#based off of that one sculpture

[skiimble]

kind to men and to the deathless gods (campo and his family, in the beginning)

[smile-files]

i thought it would be nice to share two projects i made in art class this semester!

title: angel of change

this one's a fun collage/sculpture about the positive and negative changes one can go through when starting college! featuring a nervous little peg person on the road, a surge of waves, and a biblically accurate pet rock angel smoking a cigarette

title: wing surfaces of morpho didius

and this is a sculpture of a morpho butterfly! with its ventral wing surfaces (the visible side of the wings) painted realistically, and with its dorsal wing surfaces (the hidden side of the wings) covered with messily-colored butterfly coloring book pages. the idea here is that my fascination with butterflies, despite being very scientific now, is still one imbued with naïveté, playfulness, and childlike wonder :)

[fluff-and-such]

Hi I started drawing this instead of doing any of the things that I needed to today.

Inarius and Lilith are my trash-ship tho so it's okay.

[averlym]

(click for better resolution, etc.)

[zooophagous]

"Copying a photo to near perfection in a painting is a valid and true display of skill and artistic merit"

And

"Not every photo you find online is yours to be used as a stock photo however you want"

Are two takes that can and do exist together lol.

[catominor]

wait look ag julius caesar

[i-drink-soysauce]

[screampied]

໒꒱ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, sugar baby gojo, missionary, tīt play, praise kink, mdni.

sugar baby!gojo who lives off your praise,

you can buy him anything in the world—but hearing you call him a ‘good boy’ was the most expensive, priceless gift he could ever get.

anytime he’s buried between your thighs, it’s like pure heaven to him. satoru can’t help but shove his face between your soft breasts, humping sloppily against your body as you run your fingers down his hair. down his undercut, oh that spot . . it makes whimpers spew straight past his lips at the simple touch of your fingers. “f- fuck, miss,” he’d grunt, almost forgetting that his hardened cock was stilled inside of you. his bottom lip quivers as his body continues to sloppily thrust against you, his hips lazily trying to become in sync with your own. satoru almost purrs, feeling your thumb swipe down his undercut and the way you clench around him. “y- you feel so good.”

“eyes up here, ‘toru baby,” you coo in a sweet tone, almost angelic. pretty azul irises dilate, meeting yours whilst you cup his chin. he leans into your touch as his eyes shimmer in the light. “thaaaat’s it pretty boy, jus’ hold my hips,” and he shivers once you drag your tepid hands further down, grabbing ahold of his frigidly cold hands. satoru moans, continuing to drive his dick into your sopping cunt before he leans in for a kiss. “mmpf,” you let off a muffled squeal, tossing your arms over his tensing broad shoulders.

satoru’s soft lips crash onto yours, tasting the remnants of peachy moët & chandon on your tongue—you tasted sweet, rich. .

“no, call me a good boy again,” and with how whiny his voice is and how far apart his snowy white brows furrow, he’s not asking he’s begging. “please miss . . please.”

“mhm, satoru,” you breathe through gritted teeth, his sizzling hot body continuously rocking against yours. the queen-sized bed grows rickety and your nails claw a long slope down his tensed back.

he’s stupidly feral, rutting into you again and again with his hungry jittery hips plowing into you with such needy, greedy thrusts. and as he’s between your thighs—going back and forth, hearing the sloshing sounds of your pussy shriek in rapture, satoru’s got that look in his eyes awaiting for you to say it again.

those sweet sweet words, sweeter than honey.

satoru’s sloppily kissing down your neck as his hips thrust into you quicker. he huskily groans, the sweltering hot tip of his cock kissing up against that same spot. your toes curl in pleasure as you feel his pumping surge deeper into your loving core.

“good boy,” you whisper, letting off a soft whine once he goes back to sucking on your tits again. with a loud ‘pop’, one tit of yours jiggles out from his mouth with a silvery string of saliva swallowing. a sleazy grin spreads across his lips as he heard your words of approval. he’s nodding with your swollen nipple, his eyes telling you, ‘say it again, again. . ’

“ngh, good boy,” you repeat in broken breathy whimpers, feeling the shaky weight of his sculptured hips continuously buck into yours. satoru can’t get enough of you, your scent — oh, that expensive acqua di parma perfume you’d spritz all over yourself purposely just for him to smell - it drove him insane.

satoru’s whining, his face sitting up from between your chest and he’s staring dead at you. dewy hooded eyes lock onto yours before he’s starting to see nothing but white. as satoru’s weakly moving his hips against you—his eyes were staring to roll back, he was about to almost drool. all because of your sweet cunt—the epitome of pussy drunk.

his base was the fullest its ever been. it thwacks and thwacks against your sloshing wet cunt until you’re dizzy, until he’s dizzy. wrapping your legs around his slim waist, you grind yourself back into him. “fuck me, right there ‘torubaby, fuck.”

“ ‘m gonna cum just from your voice—shit,” he huffs, and he can feel your pussy slobbering all down his pace with your slick. your hands run down his waist and he moans from your touch. it was almost cute at how sensitive he was to something as simple at touch. to the outside world—he’s satoru gojo, the strongest. but between your legs, he’s weak—happily weak just for you and only you.

with how wet you were and how his cock’s just twitching and throbbing inside of your clingy gummy walls, it’s just so damn lewd. he sucks his teeth as his bare knuckles split, turning pale. “god, keep touchin’ me please, touch my body. keep t- touchin,”

cupping his cheeks, you have a sheepish expression. “baby, you’re rambling again,” you softly murmur, and he’s panting, rolling his hips faster into you. he leans into your touch, his plump cheek squishing against your palm. your arms go back to hauling themselves over his shoulders before you bring him into a kiss.

satoru’s shivering at how your lips crash onto him yet again—your hands feeling all over him. his hips grew so unapologetically sloppy that it was only a matter of time before his knees pathetically buckled.

as his tongue blissfully curls against yours, strands of sappy saliva tangling amongst each other, he whimpers right into your mouth. satoru’s hips pop against you as he tries to slow down, feeling himself finally let go.

it’s so good, his cock emits out lustrous ribbons of cum right into your cunt and your lips part, gasping. “oh, o- oh shit,” he grunts, feeling the warmth of your ankle run down his chiseled back. satoru’s panting heavily, cowardly tucking his head back between his favorite place — your tits.

“mmpf,” he tries to suppress his moans as he’s still cumming. it’s so much that he can’t help but shake. euphoria overtakes his body as he’s dumping satiny strands inside of you. his tongue swirls against each of your pretty tender nipples before he gives each of them a long three second suck. you whine, feeling him pour every dribbling drop inside of your pussy until it’s no more for him to spill.

a hand of yours runs through his unkempt ivory strands as he’s trying to silence his sweet noises by having his mouth stuffed full. “f- fuck, that’s it, ‘toru,” and he hums with his pretty lashes fluttering themselves shut, feeling butterflies once your fingers drag through his delicate scalp.

satoru’s entirely sloppy without zero shame either. with half-lidded droopy eyes, you watch as a bit of his own saliva runs from the corners of his pink crooked lips. “s- satoru,” you moan, his flaccid cock still plugged into you. it’s hot, his tip was barely even leaking anymore, and yet between your thighs—it was an entire mess he’d gifted you. you always showered him with praises and gifts so he decided he’d shower you with a gift of his own this time.

the gift in question was currently spilling down your thighs and staining the rich velvety sheets.

“say it again,” he whines, pretty eyes pleading at you. satoru’s got a pout displaying against his lips as his head presses on top of your breasts. but his pout suddenly turns smug once he playfully nips at the sheeny pearls that wrap around your neck.

“call me your good boy again, miss . .”

[midnightorchids]

i am frothing at the mouth at firefighter!Jason🤤

I’ m imagining Jason accidentally bumping into reader who so happens to be a school teacher and he can’t help but flirt just a little bit whilst the class of kids he’s educating on fire safety look at them both with wide eyes😃

I absolutely love this idea so much! I wrote something based off of this ask and low key went a little overboard with world building, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Field trip mornings always created an exciting buzz amongst your students. Their gentle chatter filled the chilly parking lot of the old school and you giggled at their enthusiasm.

The moment brought a sense of nostalgia, it engulfed your heart in a warm embrace. It reminded you of your days in elementary school. The memories of bitter autumn mornings and your teacher’s frustrated attitudes played before your eyes. You smiled thinking about your past and how those small experiences inspired you to pursue a teaching career.

This field trip was a special one as it happened to fall on Halloween Day. The children complained about having to come to school on the holiday, but as soon as you mentioned that they could come costumed, the excitement was back. Your third grade class did not disappoint, they were all dressed in bright costumes for their first ever visit to the fire station.

The bus ride was fairly normal. The children were a mix of both calm and rowdy. You intervened every once in a while when their noise level got too loud, otherwise the students were well behaved.

Entering the fire station was like entering a dream. The foyer of the building was warm and inviting. The heat radiated off of the walls and it made you slip off your coat. There were Halloween decorations coating the pale walls and you watched your children ooh and ahh with excitement.

Your eyes were still scanning the room when a tall man walked over towards you. He wore his uniform around his waist with a black compression shirt that hugged his body. You could see a sleeve of tattoos on display and a thin silver chain peaking through from under his shirt. Despite not wearing your coat anymore, you still felt your body heat up.

You stared at his name tag—Jason, it read. You recalled the name from the numerous emails and phone calls you had exchanged in order to make this tour happen. You always thought his voice was sweet, but you had never imagined him looking like this.

He was attractive—breathtakingly so. His eyes radiated a bright shade of emerald and were full of life. He had heavy bags under his eyes, which, you assumed, were from working long hours at the station. His facial features were sharp. His cheekbones stood high and his hooked nose sat perfectly poised on his face. He looked like a Roman sculpture. Your eyes trailed down to his lips and you noticed a small scar on the right side of his mouth. You felt your fingers twitch, almost as if they were itching to trace the mark.

Jason cleared his throat, pulling you out of your deep trance and you felt goosebumps trailing your skin. You quickly spoke up, trying to ease the tension.

“Hello, my apologies, I completely zoned out, it’s been a long morning,” you said, desperately hoping that he believed the poor excuse you made to justify openly checking out the man.

You suddenly felt even more uncomfortable, you looked to your side only to notice all of your students staring right at you. You felt yourself getting flustered again, but quickly moved past the feeling. You extended your hand to shake Jason’s calloused ones. His eyes raked your figure and he gave you a sly smile.

“It’s okay,” he responded gently. “Shall we get started with the visit,” he changed the subject quickly and you couldn’t be happier.

Jason turned his attention towards the children and greeted them with an enthusiastic expression, his passion for his job clearly reflected in his way of speaking.

He led your tiny class towards the breakout rooms of the fire station. On the way to the rooms, Jason pointed out one of the girl’s Wonder Woman costumes and he shrieked in an endearing sort of way. He kneeled to the girl’s height and handed her a small sticker. She smiled, thanking him. Jason then locked his eyes with yours and called the girl pretty, and you knew at that moment that the comment was not only for her, but for you too. You felt a rush of heat run through your cheeks and up to your ears.

The breakout rooms were similar to the foyer of the fire station. There were little skeletons propped up against the whiteboards and small jack-o-lanterns on each desk.

Once the children had settled, Jason handed the rest of them with fun stickers and pamphlets about fire safety for them to take home. He joked with the kids, and managed to sneak in a fire pun every now and then. He was a good listener, he paid attention to everything the children had to share. You turned your head to the side and silently admired his ability to work with the kids; not everyone could handle a group of eight-year-olds first thing in the morning.

Jason quickly gave the class a presentation about the dangers of fires and the importance of protecting yourselves when dealing with hot objects. It was odd, he wasn’t even trying to hide his flirtatious comments, he’d stare right at you upon the very mention of the word “hot.”

You noticed Jason had a habit of walking around the room, maybe it was to keep the students engaged or maybe he did it for his own reasons. But it had got to the point where he’d brush past you, almost purposefully. The parts of your skin that made contact with his body were on fire.

After the presentation, Jason decided it would be best if the kids got a quick break before continuing the tour of the fire station. You happily agreed, needing a break yourself.

You sat on a chair close to the exit, when one of your students came to you on the verge of tears—the culprit being a paper cut. You cooed at the child, gently cupping their much smaller hand and guiding them to your first aid kit. Unknown to you, Jason was watching the interaction play out.

He hadn’t known you long, but he thought you were stunning. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the way your features sat against your skin, and the way you spoke with such eloquence. It was everything he found attractive, but seeing you showcase such patience with the “wounded” child, made his heart race. Not only were you beautiful, but you were kind—to Jason, in the very little time he had known you, you felt like an angel.

“Do you like them,” a small voice suddenly spoke. It was the Wonder Woman from earlier and Jason smiled.

“Ah the lovely Wonder Woman is back,” he replied, ignoring the child’s question. The little girl giggled.

“I think you have a crush on my teacher,” Jason raised his eyebrow. What did this little girl know about crushes? The child laughed again and said, “I think she might like you back.”

“What makes you say that,” Jason inquired, now suddenly interested. The little girl shrugged and made a face.

“I dunno,” and with that, she ran off, leaving Jason confused.

After the break, Jason guided the students to the main hall to show them the fire trucks. The energy was high in the room, the kids were beaming with excitement. The tension between you and Jason only seemed to rise though. With every passing flirtatious comment and every lingering look, you felt yourself getting more anxious. How inappropriate would it be if you asked for his number at the end of the field trip… you caught yourself thinking.

It was as if Jason had read your mind because at the end of the tour, he pulled you aside to thank you for bringing in the children and letting him have the opportunity to teach them. You grinned and also expressed your gratitude. You began to walk towards the students, when Jason grabbed your wrist and held onto you gently. He slipped a piece of paper into your palm and sent you a quick wink before heading out.

You stared at the small paper and slowly opened it.

Inside, the words read in messy lines, “call me,” with a string of numbers. You looked into the direction that Jason left, and smiled to yourself.

You were definitely going to call him.

[scrapplesims]

U-Haul Trailer

My own story screenshots required a U-Haul trailer and I was driven to the brink trying to find a CC equivalent to no avail, so I made one! Why did this not exist already?

Sometimes our Sims aren't fancy enough to hire a full moving van, or they need something a bit more secure than an open pickup truck, or maybe they just had a really great first date with someone and they are ready to move in ASAP, who knows, anyway here you go

Original mesh: TS3 moving truck conversion by enure-style, additional U-Haul texture edit by bunnytears96, mesh and texture further edited by me

Trailer hitch (pictured) not included, it's RV There Yet Trailer Base by Ravasheen (TSR link)

3 swatches

Located in Decorations > Sculptures

Metal texture from @myshunosun's resources

DOWNLOAD (SFS) 🧡

Disclaimer: Any issues? Makes your game explode? Hate it? Don't tell me please. I'm fucking tired

Enjoy!!

EDIT: Just realized that the file I downloaded and worked off of is an additional texture edit of enure-style's mesh done by bunnytears96 so I must give credit for her base U-Haul texture as well! Thank you!

[flemingology]

morning bliss ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: it's leah's birthday and you surprise her, in a slightly different way

warnings: smut (18+), oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), dirty talk

wc: 2.1K

a/n: based on this request. struggled to get this one over the line and not really pleased with how it turned out but hope you enjoy!

March 29th. Leah's 27th birthday. You'd mapped out this day ages ago, meticulously arranging and fitting every surprise you had for her in the plan of action for the day – making sure Leah got to soak up all the birthday love. It didn't come often that you could properly celebrate her birthday. A schedule as busy as hers wasn't very forgiving, the calendar hung on the wall in your home office always littered with Leah's appointments throughout the week. It went much further than just training sessions and games. It was media, events, shoots, and so on. To have a day off on her birthday was a wonder, and you wanted to make use of it.

The breeze of an early spring morning is what caused you to wake up today. The rising sun cast a golden glow upon your shared room, giving off some of its warmth in the process. You heard a deep exhale coming from the sleeping figure of your blonde lover, limbs entangled with yours and her back pulled flush against your chest. She was still fast asleep, remnants of a late night at the training centre because she was pulled into a few unexpected meetings.

You carded a hand through her blonde locks, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her head which caused her to stir against you, but she didn't wake up. You let your hands roam over her side, reveling in the feeling of her sculptured abdomen tensing up when your fingers roamed across them. Your fingertips ran lower down her body, brushing up and down her legs which caused goosebumps to form on her bare skin.

Spurred on by the way her warm skin felt against your fingertips, you pulled Leah's hair to the side and started pressing a couple soft, tender kisses against the nape of her neck. You could feel how tense the muscles were there, making a mental note to offer her a massage later in the day. You knew she put heaps of pressure on herself every day, not only to perform but also to be the best version of herself. You retreated your hand from her legs and pulled it back up to her upper body, sneaking it under her shirt and softly teasing one of her nipples, that hardened at the touch. A soft gasp escaped Leah's lips, her body nearing on the brink of waking up but not quite there yet.

You pulled her impossibly closer, licking a stripe from the juncture between her neck and collarbone right up to her ear, nipping on her earlobe before you pulled away. Right on cue, you heard a soft groan coming from your girlfriend who was still tightly tucked against your chest. "Good morning, baby," she groggily said. "Good morning it is," you quipped back before lowering your head. "Let me show you how much better I can make it," you whispered in Leah's ear before you carefully flipped the two of you over, not wanting to startle her too much seen as she had just woken up. She sat up against the pillows, making herself comfortable while you trailed kisses down her body.

You played with the hem of her shirt and silently asked for permission to take it off, Leah nodding and giving you a lopsided grin. You could still see the tiredness on her face but it was fading quickly, excited about what was coming her way. You immediately latched your mouth onto one of Leah's nipples and rubbed the other between your thumb and index finger, not teasing and torturing her like you normally would. It was her special day today, so you figured you should go easy on her and just give her what you knew she wanted.

Leah's hands quickly nestled themselves into your hair, tugging harshly whenever a particularly good swirl of your tongue around her nipples made a spark of arousal go down between her legs. Before long you detached your mouth from her breasts and lowered yourself, littering her stomach with kisses and leaving a mark every now and then – sucking and biting on the skin before soothing the sting with a languid lick of your tongue.

"Fuck, baby. This is surely one way to wake me," you grinned against her skin and looked up at her through your eyelashes. "Figured you'd enjoy it. Lay back and relax, Le. Today's about you," you told her before going back to the task at hand, now finally having reached the waistband of her shorts. You looked up at her in silent question and before you could even register a response, she was already lifting her hips from the bed allowing you to slip off the last two pieces of clothing that were putting a border between your bodies.

"You undress too, please," you took a look at yourself to realize you were still fully clothed, quickly getting rid of her your sleep shirt and sweatpants, leaving you in just your underwear as you turned your attention back onto your girlfriend, who was eagerly waiting to be touched. You lowered your head down between her legs which she instinctively spread, the action causing you to smile but you decided not to tease her about it.

You wet your lips and dove straight in, licking a long, slow stripe from Leah's entrance up until her sensitive bundle of nerves sitting exposed at the top, begging for attention. Your action earned you a deep groan from Leah, whose hands fisted your hair. "You taste incredible, baby," you mumbled against her. The vibrations of your voice against her core sent jolts of pleasure through her body, throwing her head back and biting her lip to conceal a near-pornographic moan.

"Eyes on me, Le. And I want to hear you, please," you said before continuing your ministrations, focusing on making her feel as good as you possibly could. You hooked your arms under her thighs and pulled her closer to you, positioning her legs over your shoulders. You took her clit in your mouth and started expertly sucking and flicking your tongue across it, while bringing your other hand up and teasing her sopping entrance with a finger. "God, you're soaked. All for me, hmm?", you teased her. She quipped back with a grunt, while rolling her hips into your hand trying to create more friction than what you were giving her.

"I need you inside me, please," Leah whimpered, and you repositioned yourself so that you could comfortably work your arm between her legs. You gathered some arousal from her entrance and spread it through her folds, making a wet mess from her core. Not wanting her to get overly sensitive from the wetness, you trailed your fingers back down and carefully started pushing one inside of her entrance.

"Oh shit," Leah cursed as her back arched off the bed. If any tiredness was still lingering, you were certain that it'd be gone now. You felt how tight her tunnel closed around your fingers and stilled them to let her adjust, not wanting to cause her any pain. Soon enough Leah began to move her hips, looking for more friction so you filled her to the hilt, knuckles brushing against her folds. You slowly pulled out, before pushing a second finger inside of her entrance.

A particularly loud moan escaping your girlfriend's lips filled you with lust, starting to slam your fingers in and out of her. You could feel the bed move beneath you with every thrust, tightening the grip you had on one of her thighs so her body didn't move away from you at the sheer force of your thrusts.

"Oh," Leah started but got interrupted by one of her own moans. "Oh God, that's good. Fuck. You fuck me so good," her words spurred you on as you tried a third finger, feeling how her walls stretched to accommodate to another finger. "Fuck, you're so wet for me, Le. You're sucking my fingers in, it's so hot."

You got lost in a trance as you watched Leah's core suck in your fingers every time you pulled them back, walls clenching around your digits to keep hold of them. You were still pistoning your fingers in and out of Leah's core as you felt her hand tap the top of your head, immediately slowing your thrusts. You looked up at her with a concern-filled gaze, immediately relaxing when you saw a satisfied, worn out look on her face. "I want you up here with me when I cum, please."

A loving smile spread across your lips upon hearing those words, basking in the softness of the moment. "Anything for you", you quipped back before moving back up her body, making sure your fingers stayed inside of her to not rid her of any pleasure. Admittedly it wasn't the most comfortable, but you angled your body around Leah's to be as close as possible to her, but not to rest any weight on her. You held yourself up on your arm as you pressed a tender kiss against her neck while you started thrusting your fingers again in a steady pace.

One of Leah's hands tangled itself in your hair again, while the other wrapped around the back of your neck keeping you close to her. Profanities fell from her lips as you could feel – by the way she was tightening around your fingers – she was growing closer to her peak. Albeit her moans growing louder, you could feel that she needed something more to finish her off, to tip her over the edge. You leaned your head down and nipped on her earlobe before you whispered. "You feel so good around my fingers, Le. I love the feeling of being inside of you," you heard how her breath hitched before she let out another high-pitched moan.

"You wanna cum for me, baby? Wanna cum around my fingers? You look so beautiful like this, all spread out for me," you whispered further before licking a stripe up from the base of Leah's neck back up to her ear. Right on cue you could feel how her core gripped your fingers tight, muscles spasming around your fingers. Her face was overcome with pure bliss, throwing her head back into the pillows and letting out a few near pornographic moans that would surely let the neighbors know about your activities this morning.

You started to slow down your thrusts, not wanting to overstimulate your girlfriend but also wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. A tired, satisfied smile overcame her face when her muscles finally relaxed, sinking deeper into the mattress and against the pillows. You waited until she opened her eyes and looked at you to pull your fingers out of her still dripping wet core, before you brought your fingers up to your mouth. You teasingly bobbed your head up and down while sucking Leah's juices off your fingers, to which she groaned and bit her lip. You leaned forward and bit her bottom lip. "Happy birthday, my love."

"Fuck, you're so hot. And you make me feel so good. Thank you," you pushed a strand of hair out of her face and pressed a tender kiss against her lips, enjoying the sweet moment between the two of you before you inevitably had to get up and get started with your day. "If anyone is hot here, it's you. Honestly you should feel how wet I am right now, just from hearing you and from making you feel good," Leah chuckled at this and you could see a glint of mischief in her eyes. You could feel a hand that was starting to wander from your back towards your front and heading to the waistband of your underwear, but you stopped her ministrations before she could start anything.

"Nope," you started, popping the p. Leah retreated her hand with a pout. "Not right now. Today's about you, miss Williamson. To start you off I've made a reservation at that new brunch place a couple minutes from here," you said as a grateful smile spread across her face. You were not the one for big gestures, but you made her feel seen. She felt listened to.

"Well, I suppose we best get cleaned up," Leah started, a twinkle in her eye. "And we should save water, really," you cocked an eyebrow at her in fake confusion. She sighed and rolled herself out of bed, holding her arm out for you to get up too. "You, me, shower. Right now."

Safe to say you didn't make it to brunch in time.

[glittervame]

Your mine

Based off of this fanfic Billy <3

The warmth of the summer had finally given way to the briskness of early autumn as Y/n stepped off the Hogwarts Express, her eyes scanning the platform for her friends. She had returned to the castle, feeling a peculiar blend of excitement and nervousness for her sixth year. It wasn't just the thrill of new classes or the anticipation of the latest Quidditch tournaments that filled her; it was the secret she had been carrying with her all summer long. Her body was a canvas, adorned with fresh ink, each tattoo telling a story of her life or memories with her friends.

Her hair had grown out over the months, cascading in gentle waves down her back, and her skin glowed with a subtle tan from countless hours spent outdoors.

As she made her way through the throngs of students, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Mattheo. His eyes lit up with recognition and he broke into a wide smile, rushing over to envelop her in a tight embrace. He had grown a bit taller over the summer, his frame more muscular and his features more defined, but it was his kind eyes that held her attention as they searched hers.

"You're back!" he exclaimed, his voice a familiar comfort. "I've missed you so much!"

Y/n blushed, returning his smile. "Missed you too," she murmured, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers. They had been together for three years now, and every moment apart felt like an eternity.

Mattheo's eyes began to rove over her, taking in her new look. He noticed the way her robes hung differently, the hint of new ink peeking out from her collar and wrists.

The tattoos have been a part of her body since she was allowed to enter a tattoo shop with a parent's signature. New ones would pop up during their holiday breaks and they quickly became a defining feature alongside her beauty.

Mattheo's dorm room is a cozy and slightly messy haven filled with the scent of old books, faint notes of incense, and the occasional waft of takeout. The walls are adorned with posters of his favorite bands and artists, while the floor is scattered with clothes, empty soda cans, and textbooks fighting for space. The bed, a lofted wonder, hovers over a desk that is cluttered with wires, a laptop, and a half-finished sculpture. The room is dimly lit, with only a desk lamp and the glow of a lava lamp providing the ambiance.

Mattheo and Y/n are in the middle of a make-out session playing catch up because they haven't see each other all summer break due to her spending it in France with her grandmother. His arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer as their kisses deepen. Y/n's hands trace the contours of his face, her thumbs brushing over the stubble that has formed since his last shave. His hands wander, too, slipping under her shirt to feel the warmth of her skin. They're both lost in the moment, the world outside their little bubble fading into oblivion.

The sound of their laughter pierces the silence as they break apart, both slightly out of breath. "God, I've missed you," Mattheo whispers, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/n smiles, her cheeks flushed. "Me too," she says, before leaning in to kiss him again.

Mattheo playfully nudges her, pushing her backward onto the bed. They giggle as they collapse onto the mattress, which protests with a series of squeaks. He straddles her, his hands interlocking with hers, and raises their arms above her head. "Gotcha!" he declares, grinning.

Y/n tries to wriggle free, but his grip is firm. "No, no, you don't!" she squeals, her laughter bubbling up as she kicks her legs.

Mattheo leans down, his smile turning into a playful scowl. "You're not going anywhere," he says, before letting her go.

Y/n takes the opportunity to flip him over, now on top of him. "Now who's got who?" she asks, her eyes gleaming.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close. "Alright, alright," he surrenders. "But only because I like this view better."

They lay there, tangled in each other's embrace, sharing whispers and secrets from their summer apart. Y/n tells him about her adventures in Paris, the art she saw, and the food she ate. Mattheo tells her about his internship at the local music magazine, the bands he discovered, and the concerts he went to.

The conversation eventually shifts to more intimate topics, their whispers becoming softer, their touches more tender. They explore each other's bodies, reacquainting themselves with the familiar contours and curves. It's a dance they know well, yet it feels new and exciting with every encounter.

Their kisses grow urgent, their breathing heavy as they let their desires guide them. Clothes are peeled away, revealing skin that's warm and eager for contact. Their hands roam, caressing, teasing, setting each other on fire.

Y/n's heart raced as she straddled Mattheo, feeling his strong thighs tense beneath her. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow across his sculpted abs, making his skin seem almost golden. His eyes, dark with desire, searched hers, seeking confirmation. She nodded, her cheeks flushing, and he took that as his cue to lean in, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss that sent waves of heat coursing through her body.

Their tongues danced together, a delicate tango filled with the sweet promise of what was to come. His hands roamed up her back, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and it only served to make her more eager. Gently, she began to grind her hips against him, feeling his grip tighten as he moaned into her mouth.

Breaking the kiss, she whispered his name, her breath hot against his neck. He responded by nibbling her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back, giving him access to her neck, which he kissed tenderly, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands found their way to the hem of her shirt, and he began to lift it up, revealing her naked torso.

The coolness of the room contrasted with the warmth of his touch as he cupped her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her sensitive nipples. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she arched her back, encouraging him. He took the hint, his mouth following the path his hands had made, kissing and suckling each peak until she was squirming with pleasure.

Mattheo sat up, his own shirt joining hers on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, his bare chest pressing against her as he kissed her again. Their bodies were now one, skin to skin, and the sensation was electrifying. Y/n's hands found the buckle of his belt, and with trembling fingers, she undid it, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

Mattheo stood up, gently lifting her with him. He laid her down on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he removed the rest of their clothing. The sight of him, standing over her, completely naked, was almost too much to handle. She reached up, her hand tracing the line of his chest, down to his waist, and back up again. He took her hand and placed it over his heart, feeling it thump wildly against her palm.

He climbed onto the bed, his body aligning with hers, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He took a moment to appreciate her beauty, her eyes wide with anticipation, her skin flushed with desire. He positioned himself at her entrance, and with a deep, shaky breath, he pushed inside her.

The feeling was indescribable, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that had her eyes rolling back in her head. He stilled when he found a tattoo of his name in swirling black ink on the inside of her thigh. It was a secret she had been keeping from him, a declaration of her love etched into her very skin.

"S-shit," His hips stutter at the sight, and his eyes meet hers, wide with shock and arousal. "You're so fucking perfect."

He began to move, a slow, steady rhythm that had her nails digging into his back. She matched his pace, arching her hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. The friction between them grew, igniting a fire that threatened to consume them both.

Their moans filled the room, a symphony of need and want. He kissed her again, hard and possessive, as if he could brand her with his passion. She responded in kind, her tongue fighting his for dominance as their bodies moved together in a dance of pure lust.

The tension grew, coiling tighter with every stroke. Y/n could feel it building deep within her, an unstoppable force that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. She clung to him, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on.

One of Mattheo's hands had found itself around her neck, "Mine," he growled, his teeth scraping along her jawline. "You're always going to be mine."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver up her spine, and she couldn't help but moan in agreement. It was true; she belonged to him, heart and soul.

The climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with the force of a thousand suns. She cried out, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. Mattheo's own release followed, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside her.

He lays her on the bed and starts kissing up her thighs to the tattoo of his name, and she giggles. "Always," she whispers, her voice a little hoarse.

[zweetpea]

Mrs. “Wayne”

Content warning: Swears, Arranged Marriage, talks of having an heir, Mentions of Bruce’s Affairs, Nightwing x Starfire mentioned

Based on this since no one else has done it (or at least not that I've seen...)

BTW guys if you want to write something based off something I write I ask that you tag me in it. (Unless it's like a broad thing... like if you see my post about Bruce bringing home a girl that he met and married that day then write a fic around that idea I ask that you credit me, but if you see my Yandere Bruce x reader and decide to make a "baby fever! Bruce x reader" that's more general so I don't think it would be fair of me to ask for credit.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Honey I know you're angry with us but it's what’s best for you. He's the richest man in the country." Your mother fixed your veil.

"He's a whore. And what's worse is that he doesn't even consider how it even affects his kids. I just picks up orphans off the street like they're lucky pennies or a 20 dollar bill for him." You grimaced.

"You know what a..." She sounded appalled. "20 dollar bill is? Oh how I've failed you as a mother."

"Don't be so dramatic." You rolled your eyes.

"Are you ready to go?" Your father entered into the private room. "You look beautiful Princess."

"Thanks dad."

"Come on." He grabbed your hand as you grabbed the bouquet. You wrapped your arm around his as you two walked down the isle to your soon-to-be husband, Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.

You looked down through the entire ceremony, up until the Vows. Brucie's were short and sweet. "We may not know each other too well but I swear to be loyal, thoughtful, and truthful through our entire marriage." At which you heard a faint snort from the front row. You slightly glance over and see a young man a few years younger than you trying to hold laughter, his white streak bobbing as he shook with laughter. Brucie's glaring at him.

You turned back to your inevitable spouse and said your vows. "I promise to stand by your side in all your endeavors, even if that means adopting 10 more orphans you pick up from the streets like they were stray cats." You said in a monotonous voice.

You two finish off the ceremony with the standard ceremonial officiator speach.

"Do you Bruce Wayne take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

He turns to me. "Do you-"

"I do." You cut him off. Surprising everyone with how forward that was. Some whispers were heard amongst the crowd, undoubtedly calling you a gold digger for being so eager to get this ceremony over with.

"Well at least she's eager! That's almost gotta ensure this marriage lasts right?" The officiator jokes to ease the tension. "If anyone objects to this marriage please speak now or forever hold your peace." The same young man who was laughing held up his hand but it was pushed down by a man about your age sitting next to him. "Then you may now kiss the bride."

You and your new husband shared a chaste kiss before you ran down the isle and out to the limo. And after a short drive you made it to the spot where you were scheduled to take your wedding photos and have the reception.

The reception was void of life, stuffy, like all those galas your parents forced you to attend. Hopefully this didn't end up like one of the incidents of Brucie flirting with milfs, sticking his tongue down a young squeezes throat, or twerking on ice sculptures.

Eventually Brucie takes you over to the loudest table in the place. "Wifey, these are my kids and co. Dick my oldest, the trouble maker who laughed during the ceremony is Jason, my oldest daughter Cass, the middles Stephanie and Tim, and Damian my youngest. Then there's Barbara Commissioner Gordons daughter, and our newest member of our family Duke."

"I'm the only blood child." Damian points out.

"Let's hope debauchery isn't hereditary."

Jason bursts out laughing at that. "I like her already."

"Really? Cause I had to hold your hand like a toddler during the ceremony to keep you from throwing a tantrum like a toddler." Dick points out.

"Can you blame me Dickie. She's your age. If anyone should be having a hissy fit it's you. Well you and maybe Babs."

"But we're not. So can't you be mature about this."

"I think Todd's lack of manners have become more acceptable considering what she said. Now it stands out less. Congrats Todd, you're now the family's second biggest embarrassment." Damian rolled his eyes.

"Haha" You laughed sarcastically. "What are you stray cats fighting over anyway that has you so rowdy? Someone throw out a can on anchovies?"

"No we're just excited to have a new Mom." Dick smiled at you.

"Oh looks like my new Father-in-law is calling me over for some business talk. I'll be back, Wifey. You just stay here and mingle." Your husband walks away and you turn back to the Brucie bunch.

"I know you guys probably don't like me or find it weird that I'm so close to your guys ages. Do me a favor and just put up with me for say five to ten years." They looked at you confused so you elaborate. "Brucie and I signed a prenup that if I asked for a divorce I'd get nothing. But give it a few years and he'll find a new fling. They'll get caught and he'll ask for a divorce to save his image. Don't worry I'll only ask for at most a million. Standard sum for a celebrity of his caliber."

Damian glares at you. "You skank."

"I'm being realistic. As a woman in high society you get to be a man's pretty young thing till you're 40. By then you've either started your own multi-million dollar business or you're the divorced crone who can't do any better. Most relationships of this caliber are shams held together by pool boys and secretaries. Or the few lucky ones that got married for love instead of PR."

"Bruce isn't like that." Tim defends.

"Oh please. I've seen him go to a date with a woman and leave with two completely different women than the woman he arrived with." You rolled your eyes

"Maybe when he was younger, but he's changed." Duke stood up to confront you.

"It's nothing personal kids, it's just business. I don't care if that's how he chooses to live his life. I won't be around much to see it anyway, I'm going to be rather busy." You shrugged, seemingly above it all.

"Busy with what?" Cass glared.

"Trading stocks and such, preparing for the inevitable divorce. Maybe I'll go sponsor some artists or a theatre production if I'm bored. I don't know, but what I can tell you is that it's coming." You turn around to walk away and see Brucie already flirting with another woman. "And from the looks of it, it's coming sooner than we could've ever guessed." You smirked, feeling vindicated. The rest of them looked on in horror.

After the reception you two left on a rather uneventful honeymoon. The private villa was garish and gaudy. It felt like a petty excuse to flaunt his wealth especially because you two spent the entire trip sleeping in different rooms. And on top of all that half way through he up and left you with his black card and flew back to the mansion to deal with an "emergency". Your best guess was a whiny sugar baby was getting pissy.

At the end of the trip you flew back and had to catch an uber home. None of them even came to pick you up from the airport. Though with how they reacted to your statements at the reception could you really blame them?

Regardless you practically snuck into the mansion with the help of Alfred who showed you to a small guest room on the first floor. It had a single queen sized bed without even a comforter, just a white duvet, and on either side of the bed were nightstands.

"Thank you Alfred." You nodded to.

"You're welcome." He bows. "If there's anything else you need please feel free to inform me immediately."

"Brucie left this with me in his vacation home, can you give this back to him and tell him I said thank you for the take out?" You handed over the black card.

"Take out?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. And for letting me use the Wayneflix account while I was there. If I may make a slight suggestion, give your regency era shows more attention. Thank you Alfred. I'll go unpack now."

"I've already taken the liberty of unpacking your clothes into the wardrobe and dresser." He revealed.

"You didn't need to do that."

"I know you requested that I not but I felt I'd rather have your room ready for you than for you to stress when you arrived." He bowed.

"That's very sweet but I have a very particular system. My outfits all fit together in a specific way." You start to rearrange your clothes in the way you see fit.

"Might I learn how you like them so I can properly sort them next time?"

"No, it's okay. I can do my own laundry." You offered.

"Have you ever done your own laundry?" He raised an eyebrow accusingly.

"Well... no." You confessed. "But you already have like 14 other people's laundry to do. I don't want to be a bother. Besides I don't want you to waste a few weeks when it won't matter in a few years."

"So Master Damian has told me you've said. Nevertheless I'm willing to learn to do this if you are willing to learn how to do your own cooking and laundry."

"Why are you helping me?"

"I've met many people whom Master Wayne has brought into his life. You are the first who's actually wanted to fend for yourself. If you are running a long con into Master Wayne's pocket it's either the smartest or the dumbest plan I've ever seen concocted. Besides, many of the Wayne's don't currently reside here full time. Master Dick lives with his wife missus Koriand'r. Master Jason lives in a renovated greenhouse studio apartment. Miss Barbara and Miss Cassandra live as roommates. And Master Wayne lives in either his WayneTech or home Office. I have more than enough time to learn."

You genuinely smiled for the first time since you heard about the engagement. The two of you spent the rest of the day organizing clothes and making cookies.

"-And that is the difference between Light Academia and Pastel Academia.”

He looked stunned. "How do you keep all this straight?"

"It's just something I got into because I wanted to disassociate from my hopeless reality. I figured fake it till you make it right? Someday I could have a different, more quiet life. And finding subtle nuances between aesthetics is honestly fun. Like a game of spot the difference."

“Oh my! Look at the time! It’s already 4 o’clock!” Alfred looks stunned at the time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spend four hours talking about this.”

"It's quite alright Missus Wayne."

"I'll go bring these to Brucie. Might as well let him know that he's not getting any inheritance from a tragic accident that happened to me."

"Master Wayne cares for you. I hope you know that. It may not be in the most... romantic measure... but I swear that he was not lying on your wedding day when he said he'd remain faithful to you." Alfred tried to reassure.

"If you say so Alfred." You gave him a small smile.

Alfred looked at her sadly as she walked away. He wished there was more he could do to help you fit in around the manor. Someone as grounded as you would be a good addition in Brice's life, he just knew it!

Later in the Batcave, Alfred confronted Bruce

"Master Wayne I have an idea on how to keep your new wife busy."

"Why should I care about what's she's doing with her life? I have more important things to do than to worry about than some nepo-baby throwing a tantrum.

"Why should you care? How about the fact that you have never had a serious relationship and making this work is crucial for your public image? How about the fact that she has given up her entire life to cater towards your brash decision after one petty comment Mr. West made about your love life?" Alfred started listing off reasons; becoming more irate as he did. "How about the fact that if she's not kept busy during the day she'll eventually stumble upon the entrance of the Batcave?"

That peaked Bruce's interest. "I'm listening." He swivels around in his chair.

"Offer her a job as the family's social media manager." Alfred proposed.

"What? Why?" Bruce looked at him, skeptically.

"She's very knowledgeable about different aesthetics and trend. She could make this family look..." He tried to find a nice word to describe them.

"Normal?" Bruce interrupts with an almost bored look on his face.

"I was going to say civil but that works too." Alfred shrugged as Bruce groaned. "Don't take it the wrong way Master Wayne. I love this Family with all my heart but you cannot deny that they can be a bit rowdy at times."

"A bit is an understatement. It would look good for your PR... fine. Go ask her... but If it is not up to Wayne Enterprise standards you're firing her for me!"

So that's what you've been doing for the past few months.

"Jason, I'm telling you, motorcycles are out! Most girls aren't going for the bad boy vibe anymore! They're into Timothée Chalamet!" You argued over the phone with Jason, Bruce's most rebellious child, even more so than the 12 year old pain in the ass! "Fine, we'll talk later. I have an unexpected visitor anyway." You looked behind you as Bruce entered.

Bruce made a habit of being loud around the house for her. You knew he was being exceptionally weird but you didn't exactly know why. You didn't really care all that much either.

He came up behind you and started to massage your shoulders. "Jason giving you trouble again."

"...yeah." You said shrinking into yourself. The one thing you hadn't quite gotten used to was Bruce's attempts to flirt with you. You knew that he wanted to keep public image favorable, but it didn't make sense why he flirted with you behind closed doors.

He leaned down and started kissing your exposed shoulders in your off the shoulder sweater dress. You wriggled out and away from him in discomfort and he looked at you puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like you touching me." You confessed. "I don't- ...I don't see us that way... I'm sorry."

He sat on the edge of your desk. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should apologize. It's just that... we haven't done anything yet and-"

"And what? You think I'm a slut that's just going to put out for you?" You interrupted.

"No! I just meant that you were probably wanting me to... be more romantic... I thought you'd want me to instigate something..." He stood there, not knowing what to do.

"Well you thought wrong." You left your office angrily. You stomped out of there and went to the library. You looked over all the books they had. Classics like the Iliad and Crime and Punishment to so many romance novels. But one book in particular caught your interest. The History of Taxes.

"Who wants to read about taxes?" You cringed. The book looked relatively untouched. 'Typical,' you thought. 'Rich people can't even be bothered to try and read the books they have in their house.' She went to pull it out and found the bookshelf moving.

On the other side was the answer to one of the greatest mysteries she's had since she came to Gotham, "Who is Batman and Co?"

There it was! The Batcave and All it's glory...

Oh... the bags under his eye of sleepless nights, the flirty persona, the stomping around trying to make his presence known to you.

"Bruce Wayne is Batman..." No sooner had you said those words did you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and the world fade into darkness...

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 1

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Your art is finally put on display at a local gallery, and Klaus has a vested interest in it.

Warnings: Klaus Being Klaus, No Personal Space, Alcohol, Flirting, Almost Kisses, Art Interpretation, Dark Themes

Word Count: 1.2k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

Your first art show in New Orleans isn’t nearly as extravagant as you thought it would be, despite the small jazz band in the corner and the free champagne being served at the door. The jubilant music seems to fade off into the distance as you stand just a few feet away from one of your pieces, silently stalking the patrons as they walk by and observe it, muttering amongst themselves. You try to hone in on what they’re saying about your work, about how it makes them feel, or if they’ve caught onto any messages you’ve hidden in your mixed medium on canvas. So far it’s just been a mixture of silence and solitary comments like “interesting” or “hmm” as the glass of champagne warms to room temperature in your hand.

“Which one’s yours?” A man’s eloquent voice pulls you from your anxious thoughts, forcing you to look over at his delicately handsome face as he walks toward you with a confidence that could rival royalty.

“Huh?” You take a sip of your lukewarm champagne in order to gain some liquid courage to engage with this gorgeous man who seemed to appear out of thin air.

“I’d recognize that look anywhere,” he starts, touching one of the sculptures he clearly wasn’t supposed to. “Will they like it? Will they understand it? But most importantly, will they buy it?”

“That obvious, huh?” You take another sip, letting the bubbles take their time to crinkle your nose as the rest of the carbonation slowly fizzles out.

“Painfully, I’m afraid.” That smirk of his warms into a coy smile as he takes a step toward you, his own glass of champagne nearly empty. “Yours isn’t the landscape with the sailboat, no… those waters look far too calm for you.” He stands next to you and continues to guess, letting his fresh clean scent surround you as hints of a bergamont settle into the air. “Not the still life either, you don’t strike me as someone who focuses on something as mundane as coffee and beignets.” He pauses and looks at you briefly, taking in your features. “No, a work of art from your hands has to contain something different, something much… darker.”

“And what makes you think that?” You chide in return, enjoying this little game he’s created for himself. “Maybe I love coffee and beignets.”

“Well, darling, who doesn’t? But that’s not why you became an artist, now is it?” He raises his eyebrows, giving you a chance to notice the hints of green and gold in his blue eyes.

He was good, you’ll give him that.

“My money’s on the portrait of the faceless woman drenched in blood.” His tone drops to the level of darkness he previously described as he steps behind you, his voice like butter as it melts down each vertebrae of your spine. “It’s beautiful, really; the way you captured the themes of the tortured and macabre while still maintaining an intimate beauty of the feminine experience. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

His change in tambre and location freezes you in place, forcing you to look at your own painting through his eyes as he hovers behind you, making you shiver with the anticipation of his intentions. The fact that you’ve allowed him to get this close so fast makes you wrestle with the idea that you may already desire this stranger based on nothing more than the words he’s chosen to speak with that velvety voice of his. Are you that subject to flattery? That desperate for validation? Longing that deeply for some level of intimate connection? Perhaps you are...

After what seems like an eternity of moral gymnastics, you no longer resist the temptation to turn toward him as he guesses correctly, noting the triumphant look on his face as your lips linger mere inches away from his. You barely notice the still breath that remains inside your lungs, expanding your rib cage for far too long as you stare at his plump lips, taking heed of the single droplet of champagne that rests on them.

“And what makes you such an expert on the feminine experience?” You manage to ask as he allows you to stare at him a little bit longer before answering your question.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m merely a curious third party who’s invested in the local artists that my charitable donations help support.” He confesses with a step back.

“You’re a benefactor?” You don’t mean to sound so judgmental, but he doesn’t exactly look like most of the ancient relics who usually pour money into the city. If you’re being honest, he looks more like one of the musicians you’d find on the street corner playing a cover of ‘Wonderwall’ on guitar for tips.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, love, we come in all shapes and sizes.” He laughs, looking you up and down while the shock of his financial status slowly begins to wear off. “Now, tell me, was I right? Is that your painting?”

“Maybe.” You cross her arms over your chest, trying your best to resist his evident charms. “But you already knew that, being a benefactor and all; that’s cheating.”

“Cheating is such a harsh word. I merely used my astute powers of observation to put two and two together.” He casually places his hand on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in order to keep you near. “Surely, you can’t fault me for that.”

“I suppose not.” Your heart races at his sudden touch, the gleam in his eyes barely hiding the raging fire behind them. He’s going to be trouble, you can already tell. “Do you flirt like this with every new artist you meet?”

“Just the morbidly disturbed ones that I find deeply enchanting.” His strange compliment is oddly personal, hinting that he might know a little bit more about you than he’s currently letting on.

“You think I’m morbidly disturbed?”

He gives you a knowing look.

“Oh, it’s all over the canvas, love. It doesn’t take an expert to notice the hurried brush strokes in the busy background, the aggression with which you plastered the feminist news clippings together contrasted against the time you took to purposefully pour the viscous, slow drip of blood on it until it’s nearly spilling onto the floor.” He closes the gap between you, his hand now in your hair.

You swallow hard as he fishes around in your psyche for an accurate interpretation of your work, his proximity nearly turning your insides to quicksand as his cologne dizzies you on the spot. Good god, he’s beautiful.

“You know there are other ways of releasing all that pent up rage and aggression… all that passion.” He leans in so that his lips ghost over your cheek as it blushes against his stubble. “Although they aren’t quite as lucrative as this.”

“And what would those be?” You ask coyly, eagerly daring him to show you.

But instead of going in further for a demonstration, he leans back with a satisfied grin, as if he’s already gotten everything he wants from you at that moment. He grabs a pen from a nearby table and takes your hand, writing his phone number on your palm. “Find me when you feel like it gets to be too much, when all those emotions make you feel as if you’re absolutely about to burst.”

[solbaby7]

Angels Like You

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual themes, use of safe word, possible typos, some angst but plenty of fluff

summary: based off a anonymous request (not sure how to put the req on here to see but it’s literally like the second thing on my feed if u really wanna know)

—

You’d always heard that opposites attract.

It never really clicked though until you’d met Cassian.

His loud laughs and your soft giggles. His crude jokes and your blushed cheeks. His stomping steps and yours quietly following.

It just worked. Even if there were a few differences that occasionally left you feeling slightly inadequate—like his sexual experience and your naivety.

You’d overlooked it; chalking it up to the fact that Cassian had simply been alive significantly longer than you, experienced more while traveling the Courts. It was without question that he’d had his fair share of women—had probably tried things you couldn’t even dream of but a huge part of you was okay with that. Grateful that he’d gotten it out of his system because, in truth, you preferred a gentler pace. Taking the time to appreciate when your massive male of a mate left his title and the aggression that ensued at the door, presenting you with a part of him unseen by most, if any.

Cassian was a giver, always pressing sweet kisses down the slope of your nose and muttered compliments into the plush of your lips as he eased off your clothes. A thorough lover, who’d memorize the curves of your body as if you were a prized sculpture being put on display simply for him to admire. He’d croon kindness in your ear while feeding pure sin to your cunt with as much of his length as you could handle without shattering like glass in his grasp.

It had taken practice and countless hours spent building trust to pull you out of your timid nature; to quell the desire to cover your chest when he undressed you or fighting the burning of your cheeks when Cass would slap at the fat of your ass in front of his family. “Hurry back,” He commands playfully after dinner. He’s comfortable in the giant chair, soft cushions tucked behind his back and the crackling fire behind him warms at his wings while arguing over nothing with his brothers.

You oblige the request without hesitation, partially because Mor all but shoves a glass of some terrifyingly bright concoction of liquor in your grasp the second you step foot in the kitchen with a hellish grin and partially from the mating bond that seemed to throb when you were apart. She leans against the counter, fingers hovering over a display of sweet treats when you make way to go back.

“—just tell us. How is it?” The hushed tone of Rhysand’s voice stops you in your tracks, muscles tensing and ears all but pressed against the door to hear better.

“Fuck off.”

Azriel’s laugh follows, tone teasing. “Must be good. You know what they say about the quiet ones.”

You don’t even have to look to know Rhys is nodding along based off his inebriated low hum. “Filthy in bed.”

“Maybe some of them,” Cassian chuckles, ice clinking and you assume he’s still clutching at that half finished glass of whiskey he’d been nursing after his meal. “Mine is a little more…vanilla.”

It wasn’t like he was wrong and the words don’t even register as a bad thing until you hear the High Lord’s displeased groan and Azriel’s muttered comments about respecting it but personally desiring a female who was a bit more durable—adventurous.

You take a step back, stomach knotting with insecurity and you aren’t strong enough to linger any longer. Without a second thought the drink in your hand is finished in two quick gulps and the burn that settles is far less intimidating with their words replaying in your mind to distract you. “Where are you going?” Mor’s eyes catch on the bottle of wine you snag from the table, your empty glass left behind and she’s acutely aware that while she’d made it even she couldn’t stomach the contents.

“Taking my party upstairs,” You reply without even looking back, too fearful she’d see the tears beginning to glaze at our eyes. Halfway up the staircase, you all but rip the cork from the top drink deeply straight from the bottle with little care for the stray drops that drip onto the neckline of your dress. The door to your shared room is kicked closed behind you, eyes catching on the shuffled sheets left unmade after earlier—they still smelled like the both of you. A reminder of Cassian’s head between your thighs and fingers stuffed as far in your cunt as they could go. It had felt so perfect then but now you couldn’t even bring yourself to lay on the mattress.

Not even the wine can rid your brain of the self-depreciating thoughts and by time Cassian had come to check on you, the bottle had long since run empty and the few rebellious tears that had fallen dried on your cheeks. He makes an effort to make as little noise as possible when toeing off his boots, shuffling over to carry you to bed. Your subconscious betrays you, body melting into his warmth and you vaguely remember calloused hands guiding your arms through the holes of fresh nightclothes, a warm cloth dragging against your neck to clear the stickiness of spilled wine.

You mumble something unintelligible but Cassian just hums in agreement, sliding into the sheets beside you and pulling you close to his chest.

—

You aren’t there when he wakes the next morning, the sheets cool and your scent faded. He frowns as he wipes the sleep away and the lines only grow when you’re nowhere to be found at breakfast, or in the training ring a few hours after that. His agitation doesn’t go unnoticed, confusion intensifying when even the bond is blocked. All day Cassian yearns for the random tugs, the reassuring waves sent through a sacred connection but every gentle caress is met with complete silence.

He finds you much later, form covered in silk where you sat in the middle of the bed. A box sits before you, tied neatly with a bow and everything. A brow raises, relief flooding every fiber of his being when he can verify for himself that you were safe. “I haven’t seen you all day. Where’ve you been?”

“Went shopping.”

Cassian’s weight dips into the mattress, fingers eager when gripping at your hips to pull you in closer. He’s nosing at your neck when he mutters, “What’d you get?”

You shift beneath him, sliding the box carefully before him, unable to meet his eye. “Open it.”

Even filled with anxiety, he finds a way to make you laugh, doing his best to make a whole deal about opening the wrapping paper but when the lid slides open, his grin falters. “I—“ Resting inside the dark velveteen packaging was a pair of leather cuffs, padding lining the inside and a thick key tucked snug beneath it. “I thought you weren’t really ready for stuff like this yet?”

Fingers fiddle in your lap, rings twisting and silk ruffling against smooth skin when you shrug. “Changed my mind.” You don’t give him time to think too hard about it and he doesn’t resist in the slightest when you leaned forward to kiss him. It’s effortless to get lost in it—in him and those careful hands and claiming lips, pouring out just how much he’d missed you with each graze of his tongue against your own. Cassian adjusts you with ease, the kiss never breaking for even a moment as you’re caged beneath him. You can feel the press of his weapons against your knee, the drag of thick leathers against your inner thigh and the throbbing hardness of his arousal pressed against your belly. “Put them on me.”

There’s such weariness in golden eyes when they stare down at you and briefly your brows furrow— you thought he’d be more excited and less likely to ask too many questions since it was something he’d apparently desired so badly. “Are you sure?”

You pray he doesn’t notice that you don’t exactly offer an answer, instead pulling him down into another kiss; a deeper one and you know you’ve got him when you’ve guided his hands to your chest. He melts like the sweet icing Elain put on top of still steaming rolls of sugar and cinnamon; offering small groans and strained moans when you explore the rigid planes of his body.

Cassian doesn’t stray from the normal routine, using his elbow to slightly shove the box and its contents away while he got his fill. Each loving drag of his tongue down the length of your neck, over your breasts and peaked nipples. He stops just below your belly button, eyes sliding from you to the present beside you and every move is deliberate—careful, like he was handling fine china. “Do you remember your safe word?”

“I do.”

A kiss pressed along the line of your underwear. “And if you can’t speak?” He nods in approval when you snap your fingers twice. “We can stop at any time.” The leather is smooth against your wrists and you don’t miss how loose he’s fastened them, ensuring your safety before all.

A few steadying breaths as you tested the restraints, hands dangling above your head and while you can bend at the elbows and shift your weight there’s not much give for anything else. “Don’t stop,” You whisper, eyes fluttering shut as you try to focus on everything but the racing of your heart against your ribcage.

Cassian mouth was sinful, teeth biting into the flimsy fabric to tug them down, down, down. “Well, aren’t you just perfect,” He praises, nose trailing tickling lines up your inner thighs until the taunting touches leave your hips squirming for more.

“Please, Cass—want you.”

“Just be patient for me, angel. I’ve waited all day for you,” A kiss to your bare sex, tongue peeking out to press a barely there stripe up your slit. “Let me savor it.” Strong arms nudge your legs further apart, guiding your calves over his shoulders and when he really gets started there’s not a single brain cell working to begin to fixate on the restraints. It might’ve even been fun, submitting to such power when it was directed towards you with such care.

It’s not until his clothes become scattered heaps on the floor, cock lined with your entrance with his mouth slotted over yours that the anxiety spikes again. Something about the inability to move was less pleasant with so much muscle above you—with so much of his length sliding inside without the security blanket of being able to nudge his hip when you’d taken enough.

He does everything right, slowly working you open and moaning obscenities of your warmth, the tight fit and how fucking pretty you looked taking him.

And yet, still your muscles refuse to relax.

Your fingers flex, numbness settling in but each adjustment only seems to make them feel tighter until even Cassian’s hands rubbing against your skin felt uncomfortable. Each thrust of his hips jostles your body, thick padding chafing at sensitive skin. “Fuck,” He pants into your neck, arms wrapping under your shoulders for leverage. “Squeezing me so tight, angel.” It draws a whimper, one he mistakes for pleasure but you say nothing, willing yourself to breathe, repeating over and over that you were safe.

Against your will, your heart rate spikes, hands clenching into tight fists above you. “Cass,” A deep groan and his pace speeds up. Tears begin to line your vision, eyes squeezing shut as the need to please was overshadowed by panic. “Red. Please, red—I’m freaking out.”

He stops without question, quickly pulling out and slapping a hand against the bedside table for the key. “Shit angel, I’m sorry.” It unlocks with a click and instantly, you can breathe again. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I—it’s just that,” Fat tears roll down your cheeks when he scoops you into his arms. “I wasn’t ready,” There’s so much shame in the words and Cassian’s heart absolutely shatters when you bury your face in his chest. “I overheard you the other night talking with your brothers about us—about me being vanilla during sex and I guess…well, I just wanted to prove that I could be adventurous too.” He doesn’t interrupt you, allowing a small noise of disapproval to slip free but it’s followed by fingers raking through your hair and kisses on your forehead. “It wasn’t bad at first, but once you got on top and I couldn’t move my brain just wouldn’t shut off.”

“That’s fine, it was just too much too soon,” You wait for the ‘but’ because there had to be a ‘but’ when he spoke in that tone. The one where he allowed a sliver of the Night Courts Commander to shine through. Warm palms cradle your cheeks, prying you from the safety of his chest to face him and he doesn’t speak until you’re looking him in the eye. The pads of his thumbs swipe under wet lashes, smearing away tear trails and tucking stray hairs behind your ears. “What you think you heard back there with Az and Rhys? I swear it wasn’t that, angel.”

“But they sounded so disappointed,” You look away, nose scrunching to sniffle. “—I thought you were disappointed.”

Cassian speaks your name firmly, urging you to look at him. “There is nothing more I love than being able to come home and be soft with you.” He pushes the hair from your shoulders, touch ghosting over your skin and you can’t fight your body’s desire to lean into his warmth. “Centuries of being looked at as just a soldier; a weapon. There’s so much blood on my hands but when I’m with you, all of that goes away. With you, I feel safe—I feel clean.”

Your hands cling to his sides, relief flooding under the reassurance and the love that erupts through the tether tying your souls together is nearly overwhelming. Goosebumps swarm under the intensity of it all, finding no other remedy other than to kiss him, to open up your end of the bond and allow him full access.

And this—the delicate approach to such intimacy, it felt right. Like two magnets colliding. Opposites attracting. Halves fusing into a whole. “How about we try again?” Cass offers, grip sliding down to your bare hips. “Do it our way.”

“Our way?” A tug of a smile at the corner of your mouth as he begins to pepper those sweet kisses along the slope of your nose.

Cassian only nods, a content hum sounding when he feels your ease, body pliant in his touch with the offending leather long forgotten on the floor. “Angels like you,” Ever so carefully he lays you back against the pillows, carefully smoothing out your hair as if you were the sweetest treasure. “—you take your time with.”

[chlmtsdoll]

hear me out….artashi x reader based on any song from short n sweet 🤭

YESSS OMG I was already planning a fic on this 🤭 you get it !

HOLD ME AND EXPLORE ME

18 + | smut ! threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), age gap sugar!baby reader, older Art & Tashi, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl, what did you expect?) kinda kinky (praise, bondage-ish) inspo from Juno bc yes ! I am short n sweet and yes ! I am so fucking horny 🩵

With the loads of studying and catching up on your sleep you had on your schedule being at the forefront of your week — you really should have been back home tucked away in your apartment, trying not to lose yourself to the anxiety of internships you had lined up by the clock.

No hanging out with friends, parties, or boys wasting your sweet time was enough to throw you of your high achieving attitude. With your kind nature and smaller figure, you were always shoved off as an easy pass kind of girl. But that couldn’t of been farther from the truth — you just had high standards for yourself. With a devotion to your status and a deep love for your own life and future, not one of your girlfriends would of believed that instead of disregarding another study session or wine meet up, you’d been on a plane heading across the country to visit Art and Tashi.

The only ones that could put a dent in your structured little bubble. The only two who could make a girl like you go crawling on her knees at the sound of a text sent.

The wealthy couple had you wrapped around their finger at the word and it had been the one guilty pleasure you weren’t afraid to admit — you got shit done. No matter what. So when it had been the husband and wife paying for your tuition and for you to look impeccable on any resume, meeting or simply just walking into a store to buy a new dress — of course you’d been there whenever they needed.

They’d dropped however much in an instant to have you flying out to see them right then, and you couldn’t say you weren’t deserving of a little fun after you wiped the floor with every girl in your fashion marketing courses.

You had curlers in the night before just to have your locks all full and bouncy for the couple when your arrival came. Well rested and ready for the little spark of enjoyment you had paused your lifestyle back at home for, just anything for the man and woman who treated you like their own always. You really did miss the smell of Tashi’s butter like skin, and the sight of Arts sculptured body on you like paradise. You were pushing your thighs together just at the mere thought of it in your seat — not even giving way to the public around you as your eyes were closed in bliss and you hummed to the music streaming throughout your ears.

Can’t help myself, hormones are high, give me more than just some butterflies

You were landing in New Rochelle when you could finally get a signal for your cell at last, and when the ding of your phone went off you nearly knocked all of your essentials from your lap to pick up your phone in a scurry to which you were revealed a message from Tashi.

Tashi

Hey baby, you should be landing soon.

Sending Art to pick you up from the airport.

Your little rose tinted cheeks we’re heating up just at the sight of the text as you bit your finger like a love-sick school girl and you replied to Tashi with a single ‘💗’. It was then that you were first to be off the flight after gathering your things — headphones still in tacked in your ears. It was funny to see college girls your age running to grab their luggage to haul a taxi when you knew you could take your sweet time embarking the baggage claim since you knew Art would have just gotten vip parking to come meet you with your bags. When you reached the lane you’d been given, you were waiting for your suit case to show when there was no way it could of gone unnoticed. Ever. You could of bet money that you’d been the only person there with shimmery pink luggage that had your name scribbled in sweet cursive letters on the name tag and a couple pearl key chains with your initials big enough for the whole airport to be unintentionally introduced.

When your bags did finally show up, you were reaching to grab hold of them before a pair of strong, yet pretty hands came clutching them for you instead..

“You aren’t a little afraid someone will try and mug you with those in?” Art chuckled as he peered at you with his expression prettier than ever before setting down your bags with a grin on his face, just showing his gorgeous teeth a tad and you had pulled out your ear bud as your face immediately lit up — with a small squeal you stood to your toes to wrap your arms around the tall man’s neck and he hugged you with a full laughter as your legs semi-danged from the ground. And although most of the crowd of people walking around the airport could of mistaken the two of you for being the ‘dad picks his daughter up from college’ kind of meeting, you had learned things like that wouldn’t get to your head since this was something you choose anyways.

“You found me so quick!” Your excitement bubbled from within as the blonde wrap himself into you and he pulled away, eager to look into your eyes that were astonishingly out of this world to him — he just wanted to see you. Take you in, all with a tenderness to his touch as he held your face in his hands along with a simper.

“Yeah. Wasn’t too bad though I’ll admit.. it isn’t very hard to miss you, baby girl.” Arts eyes flicked over to your luggage that was just shimmering and screamed over the top but sweet twenty something year old girl.

You giggled , “I like to travel in style.” Art took your hand up to his lips as he kissed the palm of it in adoration of your bubbly attitude and helped you walk your bags to the Mercedes parked outside just nearby. You immediately attached yourself to Arts arm and your wide eyes started up at him with complete butterflies to the feeling of him finally being right beside you again — and Art has to keep his composure not to blush to hard at the sight of your pretty face and adorable figure fawning at him right then.

♡

When you eventually made it to the Donaldson estate, you briefly freshened up in the guest bathroom, the air of the space filled up with your cinnamon and sweet sugary scents and you’d been sure you were as smooth as a baby from head to toe by the time the steam lifted from the mirror.

Not too long after your shower, there was a soft knock on the door before it opened gently with the single sight of Tashi in all her grace as she entered the room with a small cheeky smile complimenting her instinctively glowing face when she saw you. Turning from the mirror to face her, your teeth sunk into your teeth almost immediately as she hadn’t just brought herself, but attire in her hands as well.

“Sweet girl, I want you to try this on for us… it’s new. Got it just for you.” The woman came up to you and pecked your cheek before propping what turned out to be lingerie in your hands. The baby blue hue was rich, and the softest cotton like taken straight from a cloud. Ruffles edging the hem of the bra part of it and around the panties. Your lips parted as you let out a small “oh..” and your face had become warm with a kind of lust for your own fit in the piece. Tashi watched you, her honey like eyes examined the way you examined it and the corners of her mouth were partially upturned in a fine smirk before she left you to it.

And when the soft garter belt had been what you slipped up your thigh lastly before you were fit in the bits that made you feel not only sexy, but feverishly sweet as well.

You’d exited from the room to find Art and Tashi waiting in the bedroom — eyes had been automatically fixed on your perfect shape in the periwinkle shade. Their dry mouths couldn’t had caught the words quick enough before you were shyly shifting your weight on your feet, you showcased yourself for the couple with a cloying little smile on your lips just by their reactions.

“So ? What do we think ?” Your hands placed gently on your hips only moved so you could turn for the two and Tashi’s eyes ran up and down your body in a buttery sense as she chuckled to herself in profile, she adjusted how she’d been sitting on the bed so she was now on her knees - of course - not wanting to give away her obvious simmering ache for you too quickly.

Art was another story. With the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips tenderly, he couldn’t take his soft blues off of you “fuck, baby,” the blonde muttered out and you only grinned wider as you inches closer to where the man sat on the bed.

Legs being spread just enough for you to take a nice little place between them. Only five foot, you stood gracefully ahead of the man with a soft giggle leaving your lips. He followed your face even as your hands rose to brace his shoulders and his eyes locked up on you — like he’d been ready to get the perfect little lace set off of you with his teeth.

“That certainly means you like it.” You spoke like the most harmonious honey. And Arts hands had already been gliding up your flush thighs to place his groping hands on your hips. “You wanna touch me, huh ?” You knew you were playing with fire. Making your push to Art with Tashi right there and not even on to to what was going to happen next just yet. But you just couldn’t help yourself — you’d been so titillated to feel them on you. And by the looks of it, to get Arts pants off as fast as possible now. And just when he had been looking at you like this. The blonde pressed his lips to the middle of your abdomen and you sunk your teeth into your lip in giddiness already as you smiled.

“Everything about you is godlike- - mmm, we missed you so much baby.” Art’s voice had been muffled into your skin. He kissed you up and his fingers dug into the plush of your ass. Your fingertips grazed over his broad arms that were rough at the first touch but got softer as you trailed farther down.

“Not so fast..” Tashi’s voice was silken as she placed her own hand on your hip from your side. Her lean, tall body hovering over you swiftly and she held up another gesture. This time, handcuffs.

Pink and traced with fur. Your eyes go wide for a moment as they stare back at you practically — and then your eyes are on the woman again with risqué written across her face liked she’d been waiting for the right moment to spring in on you so smoothly. She pulled you off of Art with a grin. When she walked you to the side of the bed, “Ooh!” You exclaimed as you fell chest first to the mattress and Tashi was pulling your gentle writs behind your back. The naughtiest smile on your face immediately as she toyed with you, unable to remove your curls falling into your face now.

“God, she looks so pretty like that” Art groaned as he faced the scene of you and Tashi.

“Were gonna take care of her sweet cunt, isn’t that right?” the woman narrowed at her husband with airiness to her words as she flipped you on your back. And just at those words you had already felt yourself soaking your panties — and with the light blue color — it was noticeable to the eyes almost instantly, Tashi let out a chuckle. “Princess we haven’t even touched you yet.. you just want it so bad, hm? Little minx.”

Art got closer to the two of you, and his presence only made you more worked up with the way Tashi took your ankles by force, apart as your legs were on display for her view. Your already soft whines echoed throughout the room just to be touched. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“She’s been workin’ so hard back at home, little thing is touch starved, Tashi.”

“I’m just giving you a little show.” You batted your lashes innocently at the blonde and he could feel his cock grow hard right then. You were pleased by the way just your voice alone could get him yearning to fuck your brains out so quickly. It was just easy to get Art between your legs — with how painfully cute you had been to him, and Tashi’s word it was like child’s play.

“Your both gonna be me a little show.” Tashi commanded after your remark towards Art, and she took her place on the bed like it was nothing — in her satin slip with a sly smile on her face, she ran her fingertips over your dainty bottoms as she coo’d to the way you squirmed at your touch. “Art’s gonna eat this pretty pussy, he’ll surely make the ache go away.” Tashi shook out her tossed curls and caressed your face calmly as Art had already lowered himself to your hips and you whimpered softly with want at the way the blonde maneuvered your legs so they’d been over his shoulder. Your dear pink polished toes hanging off his back with ease, you watched his eyes pierce your own. He graced his lips over your soaked clothed cunt. Taking in your sent just before even removing the piece of clothing to devour you.

“Fuck, fuck, please..” You whine out, he looked too gorgeous between your legs. Perfect nose brushing over your clit briefly before he hooked a finger over your panties, pulling them to the side and when his tongue came to contact with your folds — you trembled with it.

Moans escaped your lips and your restrained hands had become an enemy as you couldn’t even touch the man below you. He licked and fucked into your core with quick but careful movements, making paintings with his tongue as you writhed on your back and his own groans vibrated throughout your body. Art squeezed from your ass up to your thighs, soft as vanilla frosting, to keep you still.

Tashi had been elegantly laid back against the pillows. She observed, her own hand trailing to meet her own cunt just at the way your angelic moans and whimpers made her feel. Like she was giving her husband the truest and sweetest treat right then. Nothing could touch the feeling of watching his jaw, sharp and pretty as a knife, dive right into your tight little hole. Dragging his mouth up and down as she ate you with hunger and your screams were like a melody.

“I wanna cum!” You squealed as your toes curled and Art watched you, deeply feeding off of the way your reactions lead the flicker of his tongue to your sweet folds.

“Be good and hold it, and you’ll get fucked in whatever position you want..” Tashi echoed back to you as she watched you fight off your orgasm. Art let his fingers trail your pulsing pussy for a moment. Like straight candy to him, he licked his slick covered lips.

“You’re always good, baby doll, aren’t you? You sure taste like it.” Art chuckled lowly as he caressed your shaking figure and leaned up from his knees, eyes not missing you for a second, even as he undid his belt buckle right there in front of you. It made butterflies spread throughout your body with his careful fawning eyes taking you up in all the ways he could have you. “I wanna feel you around me, like Tashi said… your pick.”

You would of reached out and grabbed him by the hips then, watching him remove his boxers painfully slow and the way his cock sprang out was painful as you just wanted dick in you so bad. It just has been too long.

Whining at the handcuffs keeping you from him, you turn your head to glance at his wife who’s been all too amused by your writhing. “I wanna touch him, please.”

The woman crawled over to your small figure and inclined so she was face to face with you, leaving a savory kiss on your lips, you moaned into it. And before you knew it your wrists had been free from the restraints. A smile spread across your mouth as you reached up brace her incandescent seem, deepening the kiss you both sat up as saliva has been shared between you, Tashi pulled away unannounced and eyed her husband with a grin.

“He’s all yours.”

You giggled openly before you took it upon yourself, to lay on to your side with your now free restraint — eyes meeting the other tennis player as his glorious chest had been exposed and smirk came back playfully as he climbed in bed next to you. Art’s hands go straight to your sides, he not only held you close, but explored every part of your skin with some close kisses to your neck and you breathed out in a soft moan. That made your hands reach straight for his short locks, you closed you eyes in pleasure just before whispering, “Take me just like this. I need you, Art..” your long sigh that turned into moans afterwards was all he needed before his hips were aligning with your ass as he kept your back flush to his chest, lips directly embarked your shoulder to pepper his kisses of adoration.

Arts hand went to lift up your thigh, and you sucked in your breath as you felt the tip of his cock rub against your slippery entrance. “You’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, pretty girl. I know it.” Art huffed out as a murmur into your skin and it made you titter gently at the tickle of his face that had now grown a stubble just in his short off season. And as he took his time to feel the out the luxury of your cunt already drooling over his pre-gushing slit, Tashi crawled to be aside where you both lay, propping herself up on her palm to watch your eyebrows knit and lips go curved with how her husband teased you needy little body.

“Be gracious baby, Art missed his little play thing so much while you were away. Take all of him, okay?” Her voice was laced with sex as she caressed your cheek and observed her husband stretching your cunt wide with the push of his dick into you slow but effectively making your jaw fall agape and you let out a crisps cry-like moan as Art held your hips in place.

“Ooh- - fuck.. yeah,” you cursed as you reached to grip the pillows surrounding you quick. Art watched the way you slid right down his member and thrusting up into you from the side was so easy at this angel, he groaned with the way your pussy clenched him and his nails dig into the skin of your curves. You’d been a stuttering and moaning mess as he started to fuck into you at a faster pace. So soft from the inside, not only was he going dizzy by the way you looked —pure in the ruffle of your lingerie all while whimpering on his dick for more.

“Fuck, you let us do the dirtiest things to you, princess. So much of a naughty, dirty girl- - you can’t help wanting to act like a little whore. Shit.” the blonde grunted as he rutted into you. Surely your ass would be red by the time he was done with you — and by the noises coming between the two of you vile and pornographic, Tashi reached to stroke and fondle with your breast in contrast, as she got off just on watching you get fucked like a pathetic slut by her husband. Taking it so saccharine like she asked.

You feel your cunt throbbing the more Art pounded into you. Your mouth was unable to stay shut to keep in your loud moans, you reached for the blonde as your nails ran down the skin of his shoulder blade and you locked eyes with the beautiful man who even was towering your petite figure from this angle, “yes- - yes, mmh ! Fucking cum inside me. Give it to me, baby…” your voice breathy and high pitched. It made the man absolutely loose it.

You felt his dick twitch inside your cunt as he held your ribcage to fuck up into you before coating your walls at once. He pumped his load into your pussy. Marking his territory inside you with a deep groan, you released your head into him as you cried out till ropes of his cum filled you to the brim. “Good girl, baby.” Tashi ran a hand down your puffy hole as she rubbed at your clit before Art could even pull out of you. Fast and without mercy she worked on you straight into cumming on her husbands cock with a long whimper as you shook uncontrollably.

“Mmm, fuck !” You screamed out as fireworks escalated throughout. Your heat along with the rest of your body an absolute mess — and your dainty lingerie had been covered in the little masterpiece you and Art made. When Tashi pulled him out of you — the two of you moan in unison as more cum just gushed from your entrance.

“Fuck, I’m falling in love with your tight little body. You’re just perfect, angel.” Art panted out as she kissed you all over again and once you finally caught your breath a little bit of tender laughter was released from you. And Tashi as rare as it was, couldn’t help but smile at the way you brought her husband and her own frolicsomeness to light with how much they missed and needed your youthfulness. Not only your touch, they could have it forever. You for life even. “We fucking adore you.”