#lately I’ve been stupid busy!

[skyafied]

I PARTICIPATED IN THE TF2 BIG BANG THIS YEAR!

I partnered with @time-to-change-away on their fic Banished to Suburbia!

[bookinit02]

i really do think there’s a huge disconnect on here w/ people who have never used tiktok as to what it actually is and who actually uses it. the number of people i’ve seen call it a “teen dancing app” is actually insane. it has not been a teen dancing app since i was in high school, around 2016 - 2020. the main communities i saw on a daily basis were 1) black history/anti-racism educators, 2) high school & college teachers sharing in-classroom strategies and frustrations with the education system, 3) local/state political leaders giving real-time updates on behind-the-scenes government decisions, & 4) community activism & leadership. like tiktok is an adult platform. almost every person i interacted with was my age or older. and yes it completely depends on your fyp and how you interact with the app, yes there’s still teenagers and dance videos and literally anything else you can think of. but these communities of adults aren’t insubstantial at all, they have literally millions of interactions on a daily basis. there’s about a million other types of communities that i could name just off the top of my head, because the range of users was SO diverse and thriving. it’s a long-distance community tool, just like any other social media—and honestly much better than any other social media, because it relies primarily on the kindness of strangers. i saw at least 5-10 videos today of queer people in rural areas panicking because they don’t have any access to queer community on any other platform or in real life. and before i end this i do want to say i think tiktok is coming back, i think this is a highly orchestrated political move, etc., but i do know it won’t ever be exactly the same. people are panicking about free speech violations because tiktok was a place where people fucking SPEAK. i have never seen mass mobilization and communication in this same way for as long as i’ve been alive. it is the people’s app, not just a silly teenage thing. if you’re not on tiktok and never have been, please stop talking about it like you know anything at all😭

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Eight

Fenrys x F!reader

Summary- The reveal of Y/n’s powers leave both her and Fenrys reeling in the aftermath

Warnings- Panic attack(this is very dramatized, not exactly like a real panic attack), angsty as hell, I’m sorry

Series Masterlist

Part Eight

You’re a healer.

Two voices blending into one. One face, dark and covered in the blood of his own father, another face, golden and staring at her with a mixture of confusion and horror.

One, her brother, the one she’d just met, the one who’d saved her from the cold grip of death, who’d tried to hold her back the moment she’d seen her parents, slaughtered in her living room. Had watched in horror as she’d crawled through their blood, screaming for them.

One, Fenrys, the male who stood there, unnaturally still, only his eyes moving between her and the reflection of his face, where a scar should have been. The one that had been on his cheek, the one she’d felt below her palm when his lips had been stealing the breath from her lungs.

The scar had been severe, made by the brutal lashings of a dead queen, had stayed because he wished it, hadn’t let any of the talented healers from the torre, not even Yrene, touch the wound. He’d done that for a reason, Fenrys hadn’t told her but she could guess, and she had taken it away, at least a majority of it.

The section above his eye remained, only just beginning to heal into the smooth skin that matched the unmarked side of his face. It looked like a scar that had been healing for years, not months.

“You’re a healer,” Fenrys breathed again, not a question but a statement, “A healer.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing she could say, choking on the words, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, Fenrys, I’m sorry.”

Fenrys finally moved then, flinching away from his reflection, away from her. He turned, on unsteady feet, as if he would make a run for the door.

She felt like collapsing, “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fenrys asked, finally finding more words, he searched her face as if he didn’t know who she was.

“I- I couldn’t,” she tripped over the words, how would she explain this to him? “She could- I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to.”

Fenrys seemed to connect his own dots, “It’s why you avoided the Torre, why you were so scared of it.”

It was the simplified reason, but yes, the tower of healers had nearly paralyzed her in fear when she’d seen it. And the idea of stepping foot in the white stone structure had her shaking with terror.

Y/n couldn’t stop the flow of tears down her face, and she almost sobbed when Fenrys lifted a hand to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried again, a broken sound tearing from her chest, a guttural moan of pain.

Fenrys looks completely torn, as if there was a raging war inside his mind, she couldn’t tell what side was winning. The horror, at what she’d done, or whatever feelings he might have had for her.

“Gods, y/n,” Fenrys said, and he took a step towards her, stopping when she cried harder, louder, “It’s okay, it’s fine.”

It was far from fine, the lie was evident in his voice no matter how much he tried to hide it. She’d taken away his scar, taken away his choice, it wasn’t alright, none of it was.

“Please, I didn’t mean too,” she sobs, “Fenrys I swear, I didn’t-“

“I know, kitten, I know. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

She could feel it now, how her whole body was trembling, violently shaking as she took a step away from him, as if she could hide from what she had done, what she’d revealed.

It’s alright, stop it, come back, they’re gone, what are you doing, stop, you’re a healer, a healer, healer.

Her brother’s voice from all those years ago slammed into her. The memories of her mother, dead in her father’s arms, his blank lifeless eyes staring at her. The way it had felt to lay her healing hands on them to find nothing left to save.

“Breathe, Y/n,” Fenrys told her, “You gotta breathe.”

You’re a healer. Stop. You can’t bring them back. Healer. You can’t use your power. Healer. She’ll take you.

“Kitten, calm down,” Fenrys ordered her, his voice sounding like a wall of glass was separating them, “You gotta breathe.”

Healer…She’ll hurt you…

Who will?

“Hey!”

Maeve…

And the world went black.

Fenrys had panicked, when he’d seen her eyes roll back, seen her body collapse to the floor before he’d been able to catch her, screaming for help despite the late hour.

A guard had rushed into the room, he hadn’t even had time to speak before Fenrys was snarling at him to grab a healer, that he didn’t care if he had to rip one out of their bed in the Torre.

Fenrys had cradled her head in his lap, off of the hard floor. She looked near lifeless, if it wasn’t for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He monitored her closely, counting the seconds between each breath, counting his own.

Fenrys was still reeling from the shock. Seeing his face, his brothers, healed again after nearly a year. He’d almost forgotten what he truly looked like without it, had resigned himself to never see himself again, was happy of it, deserving of it.

But it was gone, most of it at least, the section above his brow had remained, still carving its path towards his hairline, a the edges softer, less jagged.

It had begun to heal, the edges smoothing over, but she’d stopped before taking the whole of it away.

A healer, she was a healer, and a powerful one at that. To take scars that were already set by his fae healing, and make them disappear without a trace, without even thinking, completely on accident.

She was nearly as powerful as Yrene, maybe even stronger due to her fae heritage. And she’d hidden it away, clearly terrified of her own magic.

And that was the strangest part. He couldn’t figure out why she would be scared of it, the gift of healing was renowned, was one of the most sought out powers in the world, but she was terrified of it, ashamed of it.

When the poor tired looking healer had arrived, he let her look over Y/n, moving the female to the bed instead of the floor. Once she was safely settled on the soft mattress he moved back just far enough for the woman to do her evaluation.

“She’s alright, a panic attack,” the healer said simply, “hit her head when she fell but she shouldn’t have much more than a headache when she wakes, I-.”

“When will she?”

The healer gave Fenrys a patient smile, like she found his fussing amusing, “she may sleep the rest of the night, she may wake in a few minutes, let her rest.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, he had to many questions, to many things he wanted to say, wanted to do. He wanted to know why she hadn’t told him, why she was so scared of her power, he wanted to tell her he didn’t blame her for taking away his scar, didn’t hate her for it despite the raging storm of emotion in him, he wanted to kiss her again and feel her soft lips on his own.

“What happened?” Sartaq’s breathless voice reached him, the prince searching the room with wide eyes, “Is she okay, what-“

And then he stopped, his eyes flaring wide as he took in Fenrys. Took in the smooth golden skin.

“Gods,” the prince breathed.

“Everything is fine,” Fenrys says, struggling to keep his chin up, to not duck his head down, to hide.

“You may go,” Sartaq turned to the healer and the guard who had brought her, “Thank you for your help.”

“It is my pleasure,” the woman bowed her head to the crown prince.

Sartaq waited till the healer and the guard had left before he spoke again, “Fenrys, what happened? Are you okay?”

Was he okay? Truly? With the scar he’d chosen for himself nearly gone? With the female who had taken it laying unconscious in his lap from the sheer panic and agony from doing it?

“No,” Fenrys said simply, “I’m not, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, my friend,” Sartaq argues, “Of course it matters.”

Fenrys shook his head, “She didn’t mean to, she didn’t know why I kept it, it’s not her fault.”

It wasn’t, how was she to know that he kept that scar as a punishment, not from Maeve, but from Connall. Kept it as if the knife he’d driven into his chest was what carved the wound into Fenrys’s face. As if his brother had spoken his final scathing thoughts and branded Fenrys with them.

“What do you mean?” Sartaq looked between them, asking again, “What happened?”

“She’s a healer,” Fenrys whispers, suddenly worried that he would wake her, and that the word would cause her to panic again, “She didn’t meant to do it, she was, we were-“

Sartaq seemed to connect the dots, “She wasn’t exactly in control of herself, was she?”

Fenrys hadn’t even been in control of himself, he’d been so caught up in her that he’d been seconds away from taking her to the bed she now laid unconscious. For months, he hadn’t been able to even think of taking someone to bed, but he’s almost done it, almost crossed that invisible line, for her.

“Did you know?” Sartaq asked.

Fenrys only shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”

Violet eyes she’d never seen before, staring at her, claiming her.

“What do we have here,” the voice, young yet ancient, wicked and enchanted.

“A little cat from the west,” she said, circling, stalking, “Hiding under my nose, beneath the wings of one of my soldiers.”

Paralyzed, unable to move, she could only watch those eyes as they trailed over her.

“Where is big brother now?” the creature asks, “No longer protecting you, hiding you beneath his wings, no one to save you now.”

Alone, she was entirely alone in this world.

“I will have you,” the queen said, “my little healer.”

“No!” She cried out, “No, no, no!”

Scrambling away from those eyes, finally free from whatever invisible chains held her down.

“Woah,” a voice, not the creatures “Hey, you’re alright, Y/n, calm down.”

A warm hand around her wrist, a shackle, a captor. He was with her, she realized, he served the queen, he would take her.

“No, no, no,” she sobs, “please, please let me go, don’t touch me, please!”

That hand ripped away from her like it had been burned, as if her skin was aflame, she wished she’d been born with fire in her veins instead of healing, she’d be able to fight her way out of this.

“Hey, you’re alright,” that voice said again, softer than before, “you’re alright, kitten, it was a dream.”

That nickname broke through some of the haze, she recognized it, felt the golden warmth that came with it.

“It was a dream,” he said again, “it’s okay, kitten, you’re okay.”

Her eyes finally took in her surroundings, the ornate room, the massive bed, the male sitting before her, another by the door.

She shied away from the second man, not quite familiar with him compared to the golden male before her. His onyx eyes were comforting, searching her own with intense curiosity.

“It’s okay, kitten,” he said, that nickname stirring her foggy mind, “you’re safe.”

“Fen?” Her mind finally supplied the name, “I- I don’t-“

“You’re okay.” Fenrys shifted closer to her, “You had a panic attack, passed out and bumped your head, you’re okay.”

Slowly, the memories started to right themselves, as if her brain had finally caught up with her. Riding with Kashin, arguing with Fenrys, kissing him, oh gods, kissing him, and healing him.

Her eyes snap to the smooth surface of his cheek, she’d taken his scar away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

His eyes shutter for only a moment, telling her all she needed to know. She’d taken away his scar, taken it without thought, and none of it was alright, she’d ruined everything.

“It’s okay,” Fenrys says, interrupting her spiraling mind, “Kitten, I swear, I know you didn’t mean to.”

“But I did it anyway,” she says softly, her voice broken.

Those onyx eyes keep searching her, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The fear wrapped around her chest, binding her, restricting her lungs. A warm hand around her wrist, a comfort, a friend, a tether to keep her from drowning.

“I was scared,” she gasps, drawing in a large breath, “I’ve been scared my whole life, since the day Vaughan rescued me from that lake.”

She realized that the crown prince was still standing by the door, his eyes averted but body still, listening. She wanted him to leave, didn’t want to share this with anyone but Fenrys.

Y/n forced herself to keep talking, “Since the day he realized I was a healer, when I’d crawled through their blood and tried to heal my parents, murdered by his own father.”

Fenrys gently squeezed her wrist, a quiet reassurance that he was there, that he was listening, that he understood that pain, that she was safe.

“Maeve was known to collect healers, keep them like pets,” Y/n says shakily, “Vaughan knew that she would take me too, he’d already been serving her for a century by that point, he knew what she did to her pets.”

The hand at her wrist shook a little, and she knew that he’d been one of hers, didn’t know exactly what she had done to him, beyond what he’d told her of his brother’s death, but she knew there was more.

“We hid my powers, hid me,” she continued, “No one in Doranelle knew I existed anyway, to keep me safe, he kept his visits short, he didn’t speak of me to anyone, and I hid in that village, in the cottage my parents died in, by the lake I’d almost drowned in, terrrified that the queen would come and take me at any moment. I never used my power, even by myself, over time, I guess my fear of Maeve turned into fear of myself, of healers.”

She didn’t blame her brother for any of it, but she recognized that her fear, her lack of control, was because of him hiding her away, locked in that little village by herself for nearly a century and a half.

The last time she’d seen him, she had begged him to stay with her, to do anything to keep her from losing her mind. But he’d refused, to keep her safe, away from Maeve, and she’d told him to never come back.

And she’s spent the last twenty years by herself, hoping he’d come home, and when he didn’t, even after Maeve had been slain, she knew he never would.

“She’s gone,” Fenrys said gently, his free hand lifting to her cheek, “she can’t hurt you anymore, I swear it, kitten, I drove the sword through her chest myself.”

She wondered if he told himself those words everyday, if that’s why he kept the scars, as a reminder that no matter what she’d done to him, he was the one who survived. And the creature that haunted both of their nightmares was dead, and never coming back.

Tag List

@emma-andrea1 @mgchaser @anxious-study @lees-chaotic-brain @girl-math-aint-mathing @mali22 @nikt-wazny-y @theworthlessqueen @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lethargicluv @hannzoaks @batboygirlie @foxysouls @kiarathace

[tealconverse]

subtle foreshadowing

[mildmayfoxe]

do you guys think i should make a faire (etsy for wholesale)……. wholesaling was on my goal list for the year but in a “email local businesses” way not a “put my stuff on a marketplace” way, especially since faire takes a 15% commission & has other fees…. i don’t have the kind of inventory to list a ton of stuff on there but i could start with a few things and see how it goes…. i can stop doing it if i decide it’s not worth it… it would be easier than sending a lot of emails or making a wholesale packet….

[ghostbeam]

Dabi is my Barbie I am dressing him up in little outfits constantly in my brain I have a Pinterest board of clothes I want him to wear I am doing his hair I am dying it pink I am I am I am

[seedlessmuffins]

i thought i was bad at handling social situations but i’m questioning that one right now

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

I kinda wanna go on a rant but I honestly just think I need to sleep

[ohmuqueen]

We didn’t get sh*t for behind the scenes content for Guilty era and I’m still mad

[crybaby-chimera]

Todays my birthday! He’s the full version of my profile pic!

[galariangengar]

💭

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, drugging

fem reader

Thinking about a human collector who decides he wants a new pet to add to his collection...

The air of the animal shelter is polluted by whimpers, howls, and growling as he parades past all sorts of rareties locked up in their cages – all for him to pick and choose from. 

The warden is telling him about the new swan hybrid they wrangled a week ago, wings like an angel with the grace of royalty, a true prize jewel of any collection. 

He thinks it sounds promising before strolling past you.

Placed in one of the smaller cages on the floor, seemingly tucked away so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

You’re a sorry sight to behold – all starved and shaking – the collar around your throat too heavy for you to lift your head, having to look up at him through your lashes as he crouches down in front of you.

Your eyes are wide like two moons as he sticks a finger in through the bars.

It’s thick like a carrot, and for a moment, you seem like you’re about to scurry away into the very back of your cage – but instead, you inch closer, sniffing at the digit before suddenly snapping at him.

He backs away with a hiss, drawing the warden's attention – who rushes back and knocks his cain against the cage with a growl in his throat, “Stupid critter.” 

You’ve narrowed your eyes, nose wrinkled in anger – something akin to a snarl forming your lips. It’s a funny expression to see on such a normally docile breed.

“I’m really sorry, sir. Bunnies aren't usually aggressive, but we’ve had issues disciplining this one for weeks.” The warden rushes out the apologetic excuse, expecting to be sued.

But the collector only chuckles – a deep sound that makes your soft fur stiffen. “That’s fine.” 

He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket, all movements calm and collected as he wipes the spill of blood trickling from the small bite mark you’d left on his finger.

“It’s only a nibble, after all.” 

You spit the bitter taste left in your tongue out on his shoes with another sneer.

If it angers him, it still doesn’t show through the lofty smile he wears. His leer is just as poised and heavy as he looks down at you.

“Does she talk?”

The warden had turned to lead him towards the more desirable and tamed section but halted at the question.

He had a puzzled look on his face before he answered, almost in a question himself, “We don’t know.”

The collector scoffed out another small laugh, then pulled out his phone. “How much?”

The warden seemed appalled then. “Sir, we have exotic pets more up to your standard in the back. Are you sure-”

“I want this one.”

The warden looked snuffed at his firm tone. But straightened himself out after a moment. All business as usual. “We can’t guarantee she’ll behave. It could be dangerous-”

But he’s cut off yet again, this time with another rumbling chuckle.

“That won’t be an issue.”

And those dark eyes with that deeply dominating look within them were the last thing you remember seeing before becoming a sleepy heap on the floor of your cage – drooling with a blank stare as you’re carried to the trunk and driven off with.

The tranquilizer makes you fall asleep, waking to heat swallowing you as you’re lowered into a bathtub.

“Let’s get you groomed first.” The same man murmurs in a coo. Petting your head with a heavy hand when seeing your weary eyes try blinking off the sleep – but still left too drowsy to thrash.

Instead, you can just moan as he washes you with a tender smile on his face – his big hands coarse against your creamy skin, rubbing your plush limbs with soap and oil.

“My pets have been an awful handful lately…”

He’s talking about something, but you only catch bits and pieces of the words being said. Something about ruts and scratched furniture – someone’s been pissing in the sofa, and all the pillows are ruined.

He messages the lops of your ears, then rinses them gently.

“But it’s my fault. I’ve been neglectful.”

He cups your tits next, lathering them with the warm milky water, circling your nipples with the gritty pads of his thumbs until they perk.  

Then he delves under the water to find your puffy cunt, letting the hot water rush the sensitivity, making it swell with heat as he splits the lips and pets your clit. 

You buck your hips, and he awes with a light chuckle, crooning down at you. “It's okay, little bunny.”

His carrot-sized finger teases your hole before sinking inside you, filling you in slow and tentative pumps. Sitting next to the tub, just as composed as before, while your cunt squeezes his knuckles.

He hums, watching your body fight the tranquilizer as you seize up and ripple with release.

He retracts his hand, patting them both on the fluffy towel placed next to him. A content smile on his face. “You’re gonna do perfect.”

After he’s finished drying you, he fixes a collar around your throat and carries you out to the others.

“Gather ‘round, pets.” He announces, placing you down on the soft carpeted floors beneath.

Your limbs are still heavy, too weak to stand just yet. But that all changes with the adrenaline kick.

“Come say hi to your new rut-puppet.”

The stench in the air coats your skin with sweat.

“She’s a fragile thing, though, so make sure to play nice.”

Your big eyes skitter around. 

On your left, there’s a wolf, fox, and hyena who all lick their teeth at the sight of you.

Next to them lies a bear that wakens from his slumber. He licks his snout with a huff.

Drool drips from the hang in their lips as they start panting. 

And they aren't the only ones.

On your right, there’s a panther and leopard whose eyes all blackout into nothing but a deep pool of darkness.

Their tails slowly meander behind them as they arise from their beds to stalk you.

You whimper, backing up until your back hits the legs of your new owner.

You lift your head to look up at him, only to see him smiling down at you.

“Don’t be shy now. The smell of fear only makes them wilder.”

part 2

[whosashan]

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

The LaDS men x reader

In which - you realise they've been avoiding you and you decide to confront them about it.

Lately, you had noticed a shift—subtle at first, but impossible to ignore. He had grown distant. Plans that once came effortlessly were now met with half-hearted excuses, and more often than not, you found yourself alone, wondering what had changed.

At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just busy. Maybe it was stress. But as the days stretched on, it became painfully clear—he was avoiding you.

And you had finally had enough.

Determination settled in your chest like a steady flame as you sought him out, your heart pounding with unspoken questions. Whatever was going on, you refused to let it linger in silence any longer.

Xavier

You knocked on your neighbor’s door.

Once. No answer. Twice. Silence.

By the third time, you were seconds away from kicking it down when, at last, the door creaked open.

Xavier stood there, disheveled—his light hair an untamed mess, eyes barely open, their usual sharpness dulled by sleep. He squinted at you, his brows furrowing in groggy confusion.

“Y/N?” His voice was thick with sleep, raspy and low. “What are you doing here?”

There was something in his expression—surprise, yes, but beneath it, something else. Panic?

Your gaze hardened, arms crossing over your chest in silent declaration of your resolve. You weren’t here for small talk.

“I want answers, Xavier.” Your voice was steady, unwavering. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

A tense silence settled between you. He shifted his weight, eyes darting away. The longer he hesitated, the deeper your suspicions grew.

And then, you noticed it—his cheeks. A soft flush of color dusted his skin. Was he blushing?

“I wasn't avoiding you,” he muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as though the motion would ground him. The question seemed to shake off the remnants of sleep, but it didn’t make him any more willing to meet your gaze.

“Don’t lie to me.” You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes. Your finger jabbed against his chest, and instinctively, he took a step back—giving you the perfect opportunity to slip past him and into his apartment.

“Suddenly, you’re always busy or conveniently not home everytime I want to spend time with you.” Your frustration bubbled over, arms flailing as you spoke. “I’m not stupid, Xavier.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. Maybe I have been avoiding you a little.” His voice was more controlled now, but his gaze remained fixed on the floor.

You took another step forward, closing the space between you. “Care to explain why?”

He still didn’t answer, lips parting as if he wanted to speak, yet no words came.

Your shoulders sagged, irritation giving way to something softer—concern. You sighed, tone gentler this time. “Xavier… if I did something to upset you—”

“No.” His reply was immediate, cutting off your words. “You didn’t do anything.”

He finally met your eyes, and the sincerity in his gaze made your breath hitch. “You’re… amazing. And I guess that’s the problem.”

Your pulse quickened.

“I’ve caught myself thinking about you more than I should. Feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling—not for a friend.” His voice was quieter now, laced with something unspoken, something fragile.

For once, it was you who was speechless.

Then, a slow smirk tugged at your lips. “Xavier… is that a confession?”

His eyes flickered with something between exasperation and amusement as he shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, but he didn’t deny it.

You hesitated for only a second before reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. His skin was warm, his grip hesitant but firm.

“Good thing you’ve been on my mind a lot, too.” Your voice was softer now, sincerity replacing the teasing edge.

But then, the memory of the past few days resurfaced, and you frowned, tightening your hold. “That still doesn’t mean you should’ve avoided me.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “I know… I’m sorry.” He tilted his head slightly, lips curving into a small smile. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“You better.”

And before he could respond, you pulled him into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around him like you never wanted to let go. You felt his chest rise and fall beneath your touch, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

He didn’t complain. Instead, he melted into you, arms circling around your waist, holding you just as tightly.

And just like that, the distance between you was gone.

Zayne

Of course, Zayne was never the overly affectionate type, but even then you could tell he was deliberately avoiding you.

At first, you chalked it up to his demanding schedule—after all, he was saving lives. But even that excuse couldn’t justify his abrupt change in behavior.

Whenever you did manage to catch him in passing, he kept conversations brief, his responses clipped and impersonal. The once effortless exchanges between you had turned into distant formalities, as though you were nothing more than another name on his patient roster.

And frankly, you’d had enough.

Determined, you made your way to his office, having learned from Grayson that Zayne was on break. You knocked sharply on his door, only to be met with a detached “Come in.”

As you stepped inside, you caught the briefest flicker of something in his expression—surprise? Guilt? Whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual impassive demeanor.

“It’s not time for your monthly check-up yet,” he remarked, barely sparing you a glance as he returned his attention to his computer screen.

That made your blood boil. He was acting as if you were just another patient, as if the past weeks of tension between you didn’t exist.

“I’m not here for a check-up.” You sat down across from him, eyes fixed on his face, watching for any reaction. “I want to have lunch with you.”

His fingers paused momentarily over his keyboard before resuming their rhythm.

“Grayson told me you’re on break, so don’t even try to claim you’re busy.” You crossed your arms, already anticipating whatever excuse he was about to fabricate.

Zayne exhaled slowly, as if contemplating his next move.

“I need to prepare for surgery—”

“No, you don’t.” You leaned forward, resting your elbows on his desk, dangerously close to his face.

“Tell me, Dr. Zayne… this isn’t how a gentleman treats a lady, is it?” Your voice took on a teasing lilt, though there was an unmistakable edge to it.

He sighed, removing his glasses for a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding them back into place.

“You are no lady,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You are the devil incarnate.”

You laughed, the sound light and amused.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You dropped the playful tone, cutting straight to the point.

Zayne was silent for a long moment, then finally, he lifted his gaze to meet yours. With an air of finality, he stood from his chair, rounding the desk until he was standing directly in front of you.

“So, even after all my efforts, you still insist on tormenting me at work.” His voice was its usual measured calm, but there was something else beneath it, something unreadable.

“I suppose there’s no point in attempting to hide it any longer.” His gaze darkened, intense enough to send an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Avoiding you didn’t change anything. It didn’t stop my thoughts from straying to you, didn’t stop my eyes from seeking you out the moment you enter a room. You are peculiar, infuriatingly so… and yet, I find myself drawn to you in ways I cannot ignore.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, but you weren’t the only one affected. Though his face remained unreadable, the faintest hint of color dusted the tips of his ears.

“Do you…” You hesitated, swallowing the sudden nervousness rising in your throat. “Do you really feel that way about me?”

Zayne regarded you for a moment before giving a single, deliberate nod.

A slow smile crept onto your lips, the boldness you’d arrived with now tinged with a shy excitement. “Well then… how about we have lunch and talk about this?”

Something in his expression softened, and though he didn’t say it outright, his silence was answer enough.

Rafayel

There had always been a game between you and Rafayel—a never-ending dance of teasing and flirtation that neither of you ever seemed to tire of. It was effortless, a constant, something you had come to expect from him.

So when he suddenly became quiet, retreating from that familiar dynamic, it took you by surprise. It was unlike him—so unlike him. Instead of returning your playful remarks with an even more shamelessly flirtatious response, he simply looked away. Instead of seeking you out like he always had, he started keeping his distance. At first, you thought maybe he had met someone, that perhaps the easy banter had lost its charm for him. But then he didn’t just stop flirting—he started avoiding you altogether.

That was what finally pushed you to action.

The party was buzzing with music and laughter, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and expensive cologne. The warm glow of string lights cast flickering shadows across the walls, but you only had eyes for one person—the man who had been actively dodging you. Fueled by a mix of frustration and liquid courage, you found him lingering near the balcony, his back turned to you. Without hesitation, you strode over and cornered him against the wall, planting both hands beside him, effectively caging him in.

"Tell me, Raf," you demanded, voice slightly slurred but unwavering. "What have I done to make you avoid me?"

He blinked, clearly startled by your sudden boldness. For a moment, he was speechless, his gaze flickering across your face as if searching for something. Then, in a desperate attempt to regain his composure, he let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, cutie," he drawled, tilting his head with feigned nonchalance, "why would you think I’m avoiding you?"

You narrowed your eyes, unwilling to let him weasel his way out of this. "Is it because you met someone?" you pressed, frustration laced with something dangerously close to vulnerability. "You don’t have to avoid me, Raf. We don’t have to ‘joke around’ anymore, just… don’t act like I don’t exist."

The words felt heavier as they left your mouth, laced with an ache you hadn't meant to reveal.

Rafayel’s smirk faded. A quiet sigh escaped him before he reached up, his fingers grazing your cheek with uncharacteristic tenderness. The usual mischief in his eyes was gone, replaced by something softer—something real.

"You really are dense," he murmured, thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin. "I tried to put space between us because it stopped being just flirting for me. It wasn’t just a game anymore." His voice was quieter now, steadier. "I was falling for you."

Your breath hitched. For a moment, all you could do was stare, his words settling over you, sinking in, unraveling everything you had assumed.

And then you acted on instinct.

Without a word, you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It was brief, but it said everything—everything you hadn't been able to say before. When you pulled away, his expression was unreadable for half a second, and then a slow, almost disbelieving smile curved his lips.

"You’re a big, big dummy," you murmured, grinning up at him, finally feeling like you had him back.

And this time, he didn’t pull away.

Sylus

Oh, you were furious.

You had always known the kind of man Sylus was—disappearing without a word, leaving messages unanswered, slipping in and out of your life as if bound by no one’s rules but his own. But never, not once, had his absence stretched beyond two days.

Now, an entire week had passed.

You had called, concern gnawing at your chest, only to be met with silence. But when you saw the twins posting nonchalantly on moments, realization settled over you like a cold weight.

You were being ignored.

And you hated how much it affected you.

Was his absence truly taking such a toll on you? Was the lack of his attention enough to make your world feel unsteady? The thought alone was infuriating.

Enough was enough.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you were already standing in front of his house, storming inside like you belonged there, your every step heavy with emotion.

"Where’s Sylus?" you demanded the moment you entered the kitchen, finding Luke and Kieran lost in quiet laughter over some inside joke.

They startled at your sudden entrance, but it was the scowl on your face that wiped the amusement from their expressions. Without hesitation, they told you exactly where to find their boss.

You didn’t bother knocking.

The door to Sylus’ study swung open, revealing him lounging in a chair, a glass of red wine in hand, his robe—also red, because of course it was—hanging loosely off his frame, exposing far too much skin. The dim lighting cast golden shadows across the sharp angles of his face, only adding to the effortless air of danger that always seemed to follow him.

But you refused to be distracted.

"You moron," you spat, striding toward him.

Sylus arched a dark brow, his lips curling in amusement.

"It’s wonderful to see you too, sweet thing," he drawled, his voice smooth and indulgent, like honeyed wine. He took another unbothered sip.

The nonchalance of it all only fueled your anger. You grabbed the glass from his hand and set it down—none too gently—on the nearby table.

"Don’t ‘sweet thing’ me right now. I thought you were dead!" Your voice wavered between frustration and something dangerously close to hurt.

He exhaled a soft chuckle, entirely unfazed. "Is it my fault you assume I can be taken down so easily?" His tone was rich with amusement, a teasing lilt behind every syllable.

"Oh, you’re about to be taken down if you don’t start explaining yourself," you shot back, eyes burning with a challenge.

That, at least, seemed to amuse him less.

"Explain what, exactly?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, though his gaze remained sharp. "Be specific, darling."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Explain why you’ve been ignoring me all week."

Silence.

It lasted only a moment, but in that pause, something in the air shifted.

When he finally spoke, his voice had lost its teasing edge. "What do you expect me to say? That every time I was near you, I was overwhelmed by emotions I have no business feeling? That you make me reckless? That I—" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. "I shouldn’t let myself feel this way. It makes me weak."

Your breath hitched.

His voice, once laced with quiet amusement, now carried something else entirely—something raw, something unguarded.

"And now," he continued, stepping closer, his voice quieter but no less intense, "I’ve said it out loud. There’s no going back. You have the upper hand, sweet thing. You’ve wrapped me around your little finger."

His proximity made heat rise to your cheeks, but you held your ground.

"So, what now?" His voice was softer now, laced with the barest hint of vulnerability. "Is your curiosity satisfied?"

You glanced away, unsure of how to answer, but he was quick to lift your chin with a single finger, forcing your eyes to meet his.

There, in the depths of his gaze, was something undeniable—something entirely, devastatingly real.

"Instead of a weakness," you murmured, your hand covering his, "why not let it be your strength?"

For a moment, Sylus said nothing. Then, slowly, his fingers curled around yours.

And for the first time in his life, love didn’t feel like a liability. It felt like power.

Caleb

Your normally talkative, bubbly best friend had become a shadow of himself—distant, reserved, and frustratingly unreadable.

At first, you tried to ignore it, convincing yourself that maybe he just needed space. Everyone had their moments, after all. But when he started canceling plans—your plans—that was what truly hurt. He shut you out without explanation, leaving you to wonder what had changed.

And you hated not knowing.

So when you finally managed to get him alone, seated beside you on the couch in the familiar comfort of your living room, you weren’t about to waste the opportunity. You wanted answers, and this time, you weren’t leaving without them.

The air was thick with unspoken words as you turned to face him. The dim glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across his features, highlighting the tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows. He had been unusually quiet all evening, and you had reached your limit.

"What’s with the long face, Caleb?" you asked, your voice softer than you intended, laced with quiet concern. "Tell me what’s wrong."

Your eyes searched his, willing him to let you in. His moods always affected you, but this… this silence was unbearable.

Caleb looked momentarily caught off guard, as if he hadn’t expected you to confront him so directly. He parted his lips to speak—probably to brush it off, to tell you it was nothing—but then he hesitated.

And instead of words, he took your hand.

Gently, he pressed your palm against his chest, right over his heart. You could feel it, the rapid beat beneath your fingertips.

"Did I do something wrong?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You've been so distant lately…"

His grip on your hand tightened slightly. "Pipsqueak," he murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue with quiet fondness. "You could never upset me."

There was something unreadable in his gaze—something raw.

"I've just been… confused," he admitted, his voice lower now, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say the words aloud.

"Confused about what?" You instinctively moved closer, barely noticing the way your knees touched.

Caleb exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "It’s becoming harder to hide," he finally said. "To pretend I don’t feel something I’ve been trying to ignore for far longer than I should have."

Then, in a move so tender it sent a shiver down your spine, he lifted your hand to his cheek, closing his eyes for just a moment as he nuzzled against your palm.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"Caleb…" Your voice wavered, warmth creeping up your face. His touch was intoxicating, his puppy-eyed gaze making your heart weak. "What are you saying?"

His lips curled into the faintest smile, as if the answer had been obvious all along.

"What I’m saying," he murmured, eyes locked onto yours, "is that I’m hopelessly in love with you."

Your heart stuttered, warmth blooming in your chest like sunlight breaking through a storm.

And in that moment, nothing had ever felt more right.

You wrapped your arms tightly around Caleb, burying your face against his shoulder—partly to conceal the heat rising to your cheeks, partly to soak in the warmth of his embrace. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips felt grounding, reassuring, like an unspoken promise.

In that moment, you felt whole. As if a missing piece you hadn't even realized was absent had finally fallen into place, completing a puzzle you hadn't known you were solving.

[nodoubtily]

Sunghoon fucking you in mating press after going to the gym.

Choke me.

TW:// smut so MDNI! Breeding kink, choking but not actually choking, y’know? Unprotected sex (DONT BE SILLY, WRAP YOUR WILLY), orgasming inside, lmk if I missed something!

SORRY THIS CAME OUT SO LATE IVE BEEN SO BUSY 🙏🙏

Fuck me, Muscle Man!!

You always felt a different feeling when Sunghoon, your fiancé, returned from the gym. Admiring his muscles, scoping out his abs when he’d raise his arms and his shirt would lift. He’s hot, and you always have the feeling he knows he is too.

“Baby?” He snaps you out of your trance, and you didn’t realise until now just how close he is to you, towering over you like it’s nothing, while you’re sat on your shared couch. You look up at him.

“Hey, how was your afternoon?” You ask, referring to the gym.

“It was great! I’ve finally moved to the next weight now!…” you don’t hear the rest of what he’s saying, eyes falling to his abdomen, his abs showing under his black top as he runs his hands through his soft hair. You zone out, staring at them, until Sunghoon’s soft hands grab your chin, lifting your head to face his again. “You didn’t get any of what I just said, did you?”

“Not really…” you admit, ashamed of your shameless eye fucking.

“You seem…distracted. What’s on your pretty mind, baby?” He asks you, eyes boring into yours expectantly. How are you going to get yourself out of this one.

“You just look..really good right now.” You answer truthfully, exasperated due to the shortness in breathing.

“I need specifics.”

“Your muscles have become really big and I just want you to-“ you stop yourself from the embarrassment, but Sunghoon isn’t having it. His hand lowers to your neck, wrapping his fingers around like your special choker.

“Don’t stop now. You want me to what?” He teases, fingers tapping your skin around your neck.

“Manhandle me and- fuck me, please.” You sigh, giving up completely. You grab his hand around your neck, squeezing it while staring up at him. He swears you couldn’t get more prettier.

Sunghoon takes that back. You could get prettier, like right now. His body finds balance, his hands placed on your under thighs, pressing them hard against your chest to support his body weight, folding you like a fucking lawn chair. You’re stuck in this position, having this tall, strong man depend his body weight on your thighs as he pistons inside you, pulling you to your orgasm in quick, sharp strokes. Tears boil at your eyes, stinging your eye beds as you fight to keep your eyes open. Loud moans leave from your chest, escaping through your throat as your cunt throbs, sucking his cock so deep inside.

“Fuck, baby. Squeezing around me so good- shit.” He pants like a dog, dick pulsating as his orgasm edges closer too. He can tell your seconds away from cumming, so he positions his whole arm under your knees as he hold you there, bringing his other hand between your bodies, toying with your clit with fast figure eights, bringing you to a hard orgasm, a moan only heard in the hottest porn videos piercing through the room.

“Fuck! God, cum inside me, hoonie, please.” You beg, your hands clawing at his biceps, needing to hold something to fight the sensitivity that overwhelmingly jolts through your whole frame.

“Yeah? Want me to breed you? Make you a mama, make you mine?” He asks you, so close himself.

“Yes! Yesyesyesyesyesyes-“ you beg like a mantra, wanting nothing more then his hot cum soaking your insides, as you lay, fucking out and embarrassingly stupid, full to the brim.

“Oh, fuckkkkkk-“ Sunghoon’s pace comes to a halt, as he spills inside you, painting your walls white and warm.

“Fuck, yes..!” You say again.

[emchante]

girlieeee you know I have to drop by and request a danny fic 🤭 you wrote a fic about his thighs, which I absolutely loved, so similarly, can you write a fic that shows some love to his nose? You know what they say about big noses…🥵

no flaw in sight

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: daniel voices his insecurities about his nose one night when you’re both in bed together. little does he know his nose is one of the things you find most attractive about him, and you’re determined to make him see that.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, established relationship, light self-esteem issues (daniel’s insecurities), comfort, fluff and smut, oral (f! receiving), face sitting, praise kink, hair pulling, body worship.

wc: 3k

a/n - DIII thank you so much for requesting!! i absolutely DO know what they say about big noses 👀 i had a great time writing this, it was super enjoyable, i hope you enjoy this as much as the last fic!

currently, you’re situated in yours and daniel's shared bedroom. daniel was on his back, his arms lazily wrapped around your waist as you lay on top of him. your head is nestled against his chest, listening to his steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the two of you were enjoying the comfortable silence that surrounded you.

it didn’t take you long to realise it was a little too quiet, considering who your boyfriend was. lifting your head off his chest, you focused on his face and studied his expression. the soft glow of the bedside lamp bathes his features, and you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly handsome he was. however, you noticed the pensive expression that was painted upon his face, and how he was looking hopelessly into the distance. it wasn’t like daniel to be like this, and it worried you.

you patted his chest trying to get his attention, and he shook lightly, clearly getting a fright as you interrupted his train of thought. he turned to look at you, and let a soft smile lay on his face as he moved one of his hands from your waist, cupping your face.

“sorry, did you say something?” he asked you, leaning into place a kiss on your forehead. you smiled at the affection, before shaking your head at him.

“no, but i noticed how unusually quiet you are. where’s the nagging my ear off i usually get?” you teased him with a smirk, and he only let out a soft breath in return, allowing his hand to drop back to your waist.

“too busy nagging to myself, up here,” he told you, tilting his chin upwards to indicate he was talking about his thoughts. you frowned at that, and questioned why he wasn’t talking to you about it. “it’s nothing, honestly. just being stupid,” he told you, and your frown only deepened at that.

“hey, if it’s bothering you it’s not stupid,” you started, patting his chest once again as you situated yourself to sit up, now straddling him. “talk to me, danny,” and as you let those words out, you gently grabbed his hands and squeezed them.

daniel only sighed, and patted your hips as he signaled for you to shift momentarily as he moved himself to sit up. when he was situated properly, he pulled you back to your previous position; allowing you to continue straddling him.

“i’ve– look, it’s just my nose. it’s been bothering me lately,” he huffed, with an almost childlike pout paired with it, making you tilt your eyebrows sympathetically. you asked him why it was bothering him, and he just loosely shrugged his shoulders. “i don’t know, it’s just too.. big?” he questioned, and you gave him a look, which he noticed instantly. “what? it’s the truth,” he told you, and before you could interrupt, he was already starting to ramble. “when i look at photos of myself, it’s just.. right there. and the more i look at the photos, i feel like it’s just too big– too prominent,”

you moved your hands to cup his face, your thumbs gently rubbing at the apple of his cheeks. he looked up at you with those beautiful doe eyes, and a small, sad pout still upon his lips. you cooed a “danny” before he shook his head at you.

“no no, i don’t want your sympathy,” he told you as he looked away, and you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at his actions. he snapped his head back round, small frown upon his face as he looked at you, and asked “what’s so funny?” there were two reasons you found the situation funny, one; well, daniel did want your sympathy, and you knew he did. but that wasn’t the main reason.

“the fact you think your nose is too big, is what’s funny. i mean, you pretending you don’t want sympathy is too, but the first reason is the main cause,” you explained to him, lightly pinching his left cheek as he screwed his face up at the sudden action, a small yelp escaping his mouth.

“but it is big, there’s no denying that. i just know it’s the first thing people notice.. and it’s not in a good way,” he fought back, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“your first point was it was too big, not that it was just big,” you started, and daniel went to interrupt but you put a finger to his lips, causing his eyes to widen as he looked up at you. “ah ah ah, you didn’t let me interrupt you, so you’re getting the same treatment back,” you told him sternly, and he meekly nodded under your gaze. “as i was saying– your nose is big, daniel. but that’s not a bad thing at all,” you continued, tone gentle yet firm. “your nose is one of my favourite things about you. it makes you look so good, you suit it so well. it’s a work of art, dan,” you finished, stretching your thumb to gently stroke down the bridge of his nose.

daniel blinked up at you, processing your words. it took him a moment, but a soft smile appeared on his face, as he raised a brow. “you really think that?” he mumbled, voice tinged with slight disbelief. as you gave him a nod of reassurance, his smile grew slightly, as if he was starting to believe your words a little more. "you know, i’m starting to think you’re maybe a little biased,” he teased with a small smirk on his face. “but if you really like it so much, who am i to argue?”

you grinned widely at daniel coming around to a more positive light on his nose, and you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his lips, before leaning back with your forehead against his own. "can i show you how much i love it, danny?” you asked innocently, not wanting to unveil your full plan of action yet. daniel was slightly shocked at the proposition, but nodded nonetheless.

leaning in, you kissed the tip of his nose gently before moving your lips up to the bridge of his nose, and leaving a few kisses there. you littered kisses all over his face, letting out reassurances on how much you loved all of him. “you have no idea how much i adore everything about you, inside and out,” “you’re so incredibly handsome, dan,” “i wouldn’t change a thing about you– not your nose, not anything,” were some of the many that you muttered against his tan skin.

daniel was beginning to relax under your soft kisses and kind reassurances, a small smile appearing on his face at hearing you talk so lovingly about him. he squeezed your hips gently to get your attention, and you pulled back so you could see him properly.

“you’re always so good to me, even when i’m feeling down about silly things like this,” he murmured, moving a hand to your face, as he gently pushed your hair back so he could see your full face. you smiled at his comment, but shook your head.

“it’s not silly if it was bothering you dan, honestly,” you reassure him once more, with the uttermost sincerity in your voice, determined look in your eyes. daniel chuckled and shook his head, jokingly grumbling about how he didn’t know how you always managed to make him feel better. before you could answer him though, he pulled your head towards him, and placed his lips against yours.

you pulled back after a few seconds, but daniel wasn’t letting you stay away for long as he drew you back in, his lips meeting yours with a newfound hunger. as his hand gripped into your hair, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, you couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped your mouth. daniel’s response was immediate, a low “fuck” slipping from his lips between kisses.

as the kisses deepened and became more passionate than the initial one, daniel’s other hand on your waist tightened its grip, while your hands found their way into his thick, messy curls, tugging lightly. the atmosphere shifted completely, taking a full 180-degree turn.

daniel’s teeth nipped at your lower lip, the brief sting making your breath catch before he ran his tongue across the tiny wound he created, before taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. you couldn’t help but moan at the move, his tongue dancing with your own as you felt the heat continue to grow down below.

daniel’s hand moved back down to join the other, both of them gently tracing a path down your back, which made you shiver. as they moved to their original position on your hips, his grip tightened as he held you right against him, and you knew daniel was in a similar mindset to you, as you felt how hard he was underneath you.

you rolled your hips against his, making daniel pull back from the kiss with a shaky moan as he snapped his hips upwards, continuing to create friction between you both. his lips didn’t move back to your own, and rather, he rested his head against your neck. his breath was hot and uneven against your skin, and his moans were a testament to the pleasure he was feeling.

you were in a pleasure-driven state, and really wanted to show daniel how much you loved his nose, and you couldn’t think of a better way to do it. you pulled back from him, stopping your movements as daniel let out a whine, gripping your hips even tighter as he tried to get you to move against him. all he could choke out was a “please–”, and you cooed at him. he moved his gaze up towards you, and you could see the need in daniel’s eyes.

you moved your hands down to rest upon his own, and squeezed them as a signal to let go, and he done just that. you entwined your fingers with his own, and brought your conjoined hands up to your mouth, leaving soft kisses over his knuckles.

“i’m not stopping, but how about we switch it up tonight, dan? i have an idea that’ll let me show how much i love your nose,” you told him, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his own momentarily, before placing a kiss on his lips. you whispered “what do you say?” against his lips, and his eyes widened slightly before nodding enthusiastically.

you squeezed his hands once more before letting them go, resting your own hands on his shoulders as you patted them gently. “just let me relax and take the lead,” you muttered reassuringly, your voice low and sultry, and you could see his eyes flicker with excitement.

slowly, you lifted yourself off him as you moved to his inside, and instructed him to lay down on the bed. with a nod, daniel listened and began to shift down the bed so he was laying in a comfortable position. you were beginning to have second thoughts, but when you seen his eyes were glued to your face, body twitching in anticipation for your next move, you just smiled at him, sending a wink his way. the heat of the moment and the intimate connection between you both made your heart race with excitement.

you guided yourself with deliberate slowness, your hands gripping onto his thighs for balance as you prepared to settle in place. you could feel daniel’s hot breath against your inner thighs, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. the intimacy of the moment made your pulse quicken, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. as you continued to correct your positioning, daniel’s arms came to wrap around your thighs and tightened his grip, pulling you closer and helping guide you down onto his face.

the warmth of his mouth was immediately enveloping, heightening your senses as you let out a sharp gasp. his tongue was gentle yet firm against you, starting to taste every inch of you. in the midst of this intense pleasure, you could feel daniel’s large hands gripping your thighs even tighter, the pressure both pleasurable and reassuring. the sensation was so intense that you were certain his grip would leave marks, and the thought only heightened your arousal.

your moans grew louder, and you started to encourage him, telling him how good he was making you feel. each praise you gave elicited a tighter squeeze from his hands, a silent testament to how much he was enjoying making you feel this way. you threw your head back in bliss, losing yourself in the waves of pleasure that crashed over you, each touch and lick starting to push you closer to the edge.

in midst of the intense pleasure, your mind begun to refocus on what you were originally thinking about, which was making sure daniel knew how much you loved his nose.

as your pleasure began to reach a peak, you allowed yourself to gently ease off him, not entirely withdrawing but adjusting your position slightly to give him a brief respite. Your breaths were heavy, mingled with soft, contented sighs.

you looked down, admiring the way he looked. hungry eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips that he couldn’t stop licking and his pants could’ve made you cum on the spot. but you needed to show him how amazing his nose was before you could do that.

“you’re amazing, dan,” you praised gently, voice still breathy with pleasure. daniel gave you one of his signature grins in return, trying to pull you down again but you fought against his grip, making him furrow his brows. “but i told you i wanted to show you how much i love your nose, and i’m going to do that.”

you began to guide yourself back onto his face again, this time shifting your position ever so slightly. you could hear his breath starten to quicken, and you let out a whine when you felt his nose nestle perfectly against you. the rough bump of his nose pressed against your clit, creating a unique sensation you craved to feel.

daniel’s hands moved up to your hips, helping stabilize you as you started to rock against his face both faster and harder than you were doing before changing your position up slightly.

“your nose is fucking amazing, danny,” you whispered, breath hitching with each movement. “i love how every part of you can make me feel so good– fuck” you continued on, but cut yourself off at the sudden streak of pleasure that shot up your back.

as you continued to grind, you focused on just how much pleasure his nose was providing. each motion provoked a series of soft, appreciative moans from you. this wasn’t an entirely new concept to either of you, but the fact your centre of attention tonight was his strong nose, it just felt so much better.

your moans grew louder, more frantic, as you felt yourself get near the edge. the pleasure was so intense that it felt like you were on the brink of losing control, each grind against his nose sent shivers of ecstasy through you.

“you’re so amazing, danny,” you gasped out, voice trembling and eyes screwed shut as you continued to focus on your movements. “i’m so close, please, dan.”

hearing the urgency in your voice and feeling your movements start to speed up though grow heavier, daniel responded perfectly. he shifted slightly, positioning his nose with precision, so that the bump of it was firmly pressed against your clit. the slight adjustment created delicious pressure that sent a new wave of pleasure crashing over you, unbearable in the best way possible.

with a final, desperate push, you surrendered completely to the pleasure. your body tensed, and your climax surged through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. your moans were loud and unrestrained as you came, your clit grinding against his nose rhythmically, matching the intense pleasure you were feeling.

as the waves of your climax began to ebb, you felt daniel’s mouth continue its attentive work, savoring the taste of your release. each flick of his tongue was both soothing and stimulating, as he lapped up every drop, ensuring he left no trace behind.

his mouth was warm and insistent, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that extended the pleasure lingering from your orgasm. you could feel the soft pressure of his lips, and his hands remained firmly on your hips, holding you steady while he relished the taste of you, making sure to offer you comfort as you came down from the high.

the sensation of his tongue, combined with the gentle suction of his lips, brought a new layer of intimacy to the experience. his careful attention and the occasional soft, appreciative hum made it clear how much he was enjoying the moment. you lazily smiled to yourself at his actions, always appreciating how good he was with you.

as you felt daniel’s movements slow down, you lifted yourself off him, and falling beside him on the bed, letting out a breathless puff as you did so. you snuggled yourself back into daniel’s chest, almost reminiscent of your position when you first initiated the conversation earlier that night. you felt daniel wrap his arms around you, shifting you so you were laying back on top of him.

kissing the crown of your head, daniel muttered how appreciative he was of you and all your reassurances that you had given him that night. you returned the appreciation, telling him how much you loved him too, and that you meant it when you told him you loved every part of him.

daniel chuckled softly as he gave you a teasing squeeze, “well, if you keep loving me this much, i might just start thinking i really am a roman god with this nose,” he said with a smirk, making you smack his chest playfully as he let out a small laugh, kissing your head once more.