#pride giveaways

[kedreeva]

Friends at The Sepentry are doing a Pride month giveaway to raise money for The Trevor Project this month. I said I'd let y'all here know it was going on over on Instagram!

If you don't know, The Trevor Project is a nonprofit organization which provides help and support to the queer community through crisis services, peer support/community, research, public outreach, advocacy, and more, with a major focus on suicide prevention in LGBTQ+ youth.

From Wikipedia: "The Trevor Lifeline is a nationwide, around-the-clock crisis and suicide prevention helpline for LGBTQ youth in the United States. The lifeline is a free and confidential service from counselors trained to listen without judgement and can refer callers to supportive local organizations and groups. The number for the line in the United States is 1-866-488-7386."

The Serpentry is doing a little giveaway in an attempt to raise $1,000 for this organization. The actual giveaway post, with full rules (please read them all!), is located here on instagram. You can enter via donating $5 through their fundraiser link. Every $5 is a ticket, and there are extra ways to get tickets in the rules on their instagram- reblogging this post is NOT a way to enter, so you can safely share and spread the word without being entered. Prizes are winner's choice from the photos above!

Even if you don't want to participate in the giveaway, The Trevor Project is a great organization to support this Pride season. Stay safe out there!

[roetrolls]

huge shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned or bought an adopt from me, i am so overwhelmed rn with how happy and grateful i am that i can get extra income doing something i genuinely love

im like. at the point where im starting to think about the future for really reals and the prospect of becoming less reliant on my parents is not nearly as scary knowing there are people willing to pay for my art

I JUST REALLY APPRECIATE IT THANK YOU GUYS.... And I'm so happy with the stuff I've made for commissions too... knowing people are putting trust in me by buying my stuff, like. it makes me push myself to make stuff that I'm really really proud of... I've been trying so many new things and honing my skills and I feel so fulfilled right now and like I've reached a point that younger me dreamed of and I'm just!!!!!

you guys are awesome, drawing for people is awesome, I love this community.....

[saucingitup]

Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long

June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.

Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.

The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.

From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.

And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.

Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.

I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.

People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.

They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.

This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!

[bea-n-art]

"Simply, Love." What else can I name it? Pride Month art, and a giveaway as part of a raffle where donations go to Trevor Project. For more information go here -

This image is available as a print: https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/beanart

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/beatenossart

My free coffee community and tip jar: https://ko-fi.com/beanart

[solxamber]

ive been relistening to the villains' songs like be prepared and poor unfortunate souls and it got me wondering if i could request for the overblotted boy reacting to a reader, whos usually pretty docile and a textbook example of a "good person", singing their respective villains' songs. Except that reader's extremely expressive through their voice and movements. so much so that they look and sound so villainous that its a complete 180 from their usual self. maybe reader was just vibing to themselves and their inner theater nerd came out and was just having the time of their life and the boys just so happen to be around and heard them. how would they react? :D

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil reacting to reader singing their Villain songs

a/n; i know overblot gang was requested but evil queen, maleficent and hades don't have villain songs so i hope this is fine!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle wasn’t sure what drew him to the courtyard that afternoon. Perhaps it was the faint melody drifting through the air, or the infectious energy radiating from the sound. But when he turned the corner, what he saw rooted him to the spot.

There you were, standing on one of the stone benches with an invisible spotlight illuminating your every move. Your normally calm, good-natured demeanor was gone, replaced by a commanding presence that demanded attention.

You sang “Who’s been painting my roses red?” with a voice that was equal parts theatrical and menacing. Your gestures were grand, your expression shifting effortlessly between outrage and cruel amusement as if you were a monarch addressing trembling subjects. It was captivating. It was terrifying. It was… perfect.

Riddle’s breath hitched as he watched you embody the very spirit of the Queen of Hearts. The fervor in your movements, the intensity in your voice—it was as though you had stepped out of one of his cherished childhood storybooks. You pointed an accusatory finger at a nonexistent offender, your voice dripping with venom as you declared, “Off with their heads!”

His heart pounded against his ribcage. Was this the same person who handed out snacks to dormmates without asking for anything in return? Who was always ready with a kind word, a helping hand, or a soft laugh?

And yet… this was you too. A side of you he’d never seen. Bold, commanding, unyielding.

Riddle swallowed hard, feeling heat creep up his neck. It was almost unfair how effortlessly you seemed to channel the Queen of Hearts he revered. How could you embody such power and poise when you were usually so… so… docile? His admiration mixed with a bewildering flush of pride.

You didn’t notice him, completely immersed in your impromptu performance. With a dramatic flourish, you ended the song, holding an invisible scepter aloft as if ruling over a kingdom of trembling subjects.

The silence that followed was deafening.

It was only then that you spotted him, his wide eyes and flushed face a dead giveaway that he’d seen the entire thing. Your mouth fell open, and you scrambled off the bench, your cheeks burning as you sputtered, “Riddle! I-I didn’t see you there!”

His lips moved as though he wanted to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, after a long moment, he managed, “That… was remarkable.”

“Remarkable?” you repeated, unsure if that was a compliment or a polite way of saying What on earth was that?

Riddle stepped closer, his expression torn between awe and embarrassment. “You—you truly embodied the spirit of the Queen of Hearts. Your intensity, your conviction…” He paused, his voice softening. “It was admirable. Inspiring, even.”

You blinked, stunned. “I was just messing around… You really think so?”

His cheeks burned brighter as he averted his gaze. “It’s… rare to see someone honor her so… naturally. I admire your passion. It’s…” He hesitated before meeting your eyes. “...beautiful.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you both stood in awkward silence, the weight of his words settling between you. Then, with a nervous laugh, you scratched the back of your head. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show, Your Honor.”

Riddle’s lips twitched, almost into a smile. “I did.” Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “I always do.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona wasn’t the type to eavesdrop. Not intentionally, anyway. But when he heard a low, familiar melody echoing from one of the quiet courtyards, his ears twitched involuntarily. Curiosity got the better of him, and he sauntered toward the sound.

What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

There you were, pacing back and forth on the edge of a stone fountain like a monarch surveying their pride. Your voice rang out—low, powerful, dripping with calculated malice—as you sang “Be prepared!” You punctuated the words with dramatic gestures, your arms sweeping through the air as if commanding an invisible army.

Leona’s tail flicked, his sharp green eyes narrowing. Where was the soft-spoken person he knew? The one who gave others the benefit of the doubt even when they didn’t deserve it? The one who, annoyingly, always had a kind smile ready for anyone in need?

No, this was someone else entirely. Someone confident. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.

“Meticulous planning, tenacity spanning, decades of denial…” Your voice grew stronger with each line, rising and falling in time with your movements. The sneer on your lips, the glint in your eyes—it was uncanny. You weren’t just singing the King of Beasts’ song. You were the King of Beasts.

Leona’s chest tightened as he watched you embody everything he admired about his ancestor. The cunning, the ambition, the audacity to demand a throne that should have been his by right. He knew those feelings well, knew the fire that came with them. And yet, seeing you channel them so effortlessly… it struck a chord he hadn’t expected.

And damn, if you didn’t look good doing it.

You reached the final verse, throwing your arms wide with a triumphant grin. “Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared—be prepared!” Your voice echoed in the empty courtyard, the last note lingering in the air as you struck a dramatic pose.

Silence followed. Then—

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Herbivore.”

You jumped, nearly toppling into the fountain. “Leona!” you yelped, whipping around to see him leaning against a pillar, arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

“How long were you standing there?” you demanded, your cheeks heating up.

“Long enough.” He pushed off the pillar and strolled toward you, his gaze sharp and appraising. “You’ve been holding out on me, huh? All this time, you’ve been playin’ the meek little herbivore act, and now I catch you out here auditioning for the role of a lifetime.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I was just goofing around! It’s not like—ugh, I can’t believe you saw that.”

He chuckled, low and deep. “Relax. I’m not complainin’. You nailed it, by the way. The whole ambition thing? Kinda suits you.”

You peeked at him from between your fingers, unsure if he was teasing or being sincere. “You’re not… weirded out?”

“Why would I be?” He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “You were channeling the King of Beasts, weren’t you? ‘Course you looked good doin’ it.”

His words made your heart skip, but before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his green eyes glinting. “Still, you’ve got guts pullin’ that off. You keep surprising me, Herbivore. I’ll give you that.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

He straightened, hands sliding into his pockets as he turned to leave. “Don’t stop on my account. You wanna belt out another song, go for it. Maybe I’ll even join in next time.”

And with that, he walked away, his tail swaying lazily behind him.

You stared after him, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand. “Join in?” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

But the thought of Leona singing Be Prepared with you? You couldn’t help but smile.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul always prided himself on keeping a calm, collected demeanor. It was part of the image he'd cultivated—smooth, sophisticated, and utterly unflappable. But today? Today, he felt his composure teetering on a knife’s edge.

He hadn’t meant to stumble across you in an empty classroom, where you apparently thought you were alone. The soft hum of music drew his attention as he passed by, and curiosity had compelled him to take a peek.

And there you were.

The typically sweet, mild-mannered person he knew had vanished, replaced by someone utterly commanding. You were perched on the edge of a table, one hand gesturing grandly as your voice rang out:

"Poor unfortunate souls, in pain, in need!"

Azul froze, the words sending a shiver down his spine. Your tone was rich, dripping with confidence, and paired with the way you moved—calculated, fluid, like every motion had a purpose—you were magnetic. You swept your arm out with a flourish, mimicking the sea witch herself, your voice curling around each word with wicked glee.

"This one longing to be thinner, that one wants to get the girl..."

Azul’s breath caught. You weren’t just singing the song. You were the song. The sly glances, the theatrical gestures, the sharp, knowing smile—you were embodying the Sea Witch in a way that made his heart race.

How had he never seen this side of you before?

"And do I help them? Yes, indeed!"

Your voice climbed, bold and commanding, and Azul’s mind raced. The way you seemed to channel the Sea Witch—the cunning, the control, the sheer power—it was breathtaking. You reminded him of everything he admired about the Sea Witch. The very traits that he also had.

But seeing you like this? It felt... dangerous.

"Now it’s happened once or twice, someone couldn’t pay the price...”

You leaned forward, your expression devious, and Azul’s chest tightened. He suddenly felt like one of those poor, unfortunate souls, utterly captivated and completely at your mercy.

The song ended with a flourish, and you threw your arms out, basking in your imaginary spotlight.

That’s when you noticed him.

“Azul?!” you yelped, nearly toppling off the table. “What are you doing here?”

He took a moment to collect himself, smoothing his expression into something neutral—though the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him. “I was just passing by,” he said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Your face turned red as you scrambled to stand. “Oh, I was just... uh, messing around! It’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” His voice came out sharper than he intended. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That performance was incredible.”

You blinked, startled. “You think so?”

“Without a doubt.” His voice softened, but his gaze remained intense. “You… embodied the role perfectly. The confidence, the cunning—you channeled it all flawlessly.”

You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thanks, but I was just having fun. I didn’t think anyone would actually see me.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider,” he said, his tone almost too casual. “If you ever decide to pursue a career in theater, you’d be quite formidable.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You really mean that?”

Azul’s smile was small but genuine. “Absolutely. Though, if I may… I’d suggest not showing that side of yourself to just anyone.”

“Why not?” you asked, puzzled.

He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Because power like that can be… intoxicating. And there are those who might exploit it.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond. The way he looked at you—like you were a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve—made your heart skip.

Azul cleared his throat again, stepping back as if realizing how close he’d gotten. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your… ‘messing around.’”

As he turned to leave, you called out, “Azul?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not going to, like, hold this over my head, are you?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a sly smile. “Now, would I ever do something like that?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Why did I even ask?”

His laughter echoed down the hall as he walked away, leaving you to wonder if you’d just made a mistake—or if you’d unintentionally gained his admiration. Either way, the image of Azul’s flustered expression was one you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had long mastered the art of blending into the background, observing the world from the sidelines without drawing attention to himself. It was how he kept control, how he stayed one step ahead. But today, his usually composed exterior faltered.

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to stop by the empty classroom, but when he pushed the door open, his entire world shifted.

You were there.

Gone was the gentle, kind presence he had grown used to. Instead, you were standing atop a low table, your expression sharp and commanding, your hands sweeping through the air as if conjuring storms with your words.

"Prince Ali? Yes, it is he, but not as you know him!"

Jamil froze. Your voice was rich, dripping with mockery and power, a far cry from the sweet tone you usually used. You stalked across the small space, throwing your arms out dramatically as you continued the song, your movements perfectly embodying the calculated, theatrical confidence of the Sorcerer of the Sands himself.

"Read my lips and come to grips with reality!"

Your voice curled around the words, biting and sardonic, and Jamil felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. You were into it. Every gesture, every word carried weight, as if you were performing for an audience of thousands instead of an empty room.

He had always admired the Sorcerer of the Sands—not just for his cleverness, but for his ambition, his cunning, the way he refused to settle for the scraps the world threw him. Watching you now, it was as if you’d plucked that same spirit from the pages of a storybook and breathed it into life.

"His personality flaws give me adequate cause..."

You spun dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at an imaginary audience, your expression fierce. For a moment, Jamil almost believed you were chastising him, and his heart skipped a beat.

He should look away. He should leave before you noticed him. But he couldn’t. He was rooted to the spot, utterly captivated.

"To send him packing on a one-way trip, so his prospects take a terminal dip!"

You ended with a flourish, holding your arms out as if soaking in invisible applause, a self-satisfied smirk curling your lips.

And then you saw him.

“Jamil?!” you yelped, nearly losing your balance in surprise.

He stepped forward, trying to look impassive even though his heart was still racing. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever that was.”

Your face turned a deep shade of red. “I was just, uh, messing around! I didn’t think anyone was here.”

“That much was clear.” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed him. They lingered on you a moment too long, taking in the faint flush on your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath.

You fidgeted, smoothing your clothes. “It’s nothing, really. Just a silly song.”

“Silly?” He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “That performance was anything but silly.”

Your embarrassment deepened. “You don’t have to mock me, you know.”

“I’m not mocking you,” he said quickly. Too quickly. He cleared his throat, glancing away. “It was… impressive. You captured the essence of the character perfectly.”

“Really?”

Jamil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. The confidence, the control, the edge of menace—it was all there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were plotting to overthrow a kingdom.”

You laughed nervously. “Guess I just got carried away.”

“Carried away...” he murmured, his gaze softening. The truth was, watching you like that had shaken something loose in him. Seeing you embody the cunning, ambitious traits he admired so deeply—it was almost too much.

“Anyway,” you said, hopping off the table. “I’ll just pretend this never happened if you will.”

Jamil smirked faintly. “As you wish.”

But as you walked past him, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, watching the way you moved, still radiating the energy of the sorcerer you’d been channeling moments ago.

Masterlist

[monamipencil]

jealous rival! seungcheol

genre; nsfw, mdni <3 | a/n; this man is made for the enemies to lovers trope. praying for this to not flop. part 2 !

rival! seungcheol who absolutely hates your guts. he scoffs every time you counter him in class and the way you eye him with a cocky smile if you prove him wrong or win the favour of the lecturer. he also hates the fact that you get his dick hard and twitching in need.

rival! seungcheol who wants to bend you over and fuck you into oblivion. especially the times when your little, cocky side eyes to each other turn into full on eye-fucking each other. his heart swells with pride when you subtly check him out and look away when you get caught.

rival! seungcheol who's had enough of whatever the fuck is going on between you two. in an attempt to "help you be friends with each other," you're assigned as his project partner. and so, fuck-me eyes turns into subtle touches and pleasantly suffocating proximity.

seungcheol's breath hitches when you press your breasts against his bicep, leaning in to help him with something he could not give less fucks about right now. he watches as you back away, flashing him a condescending smile. "see? it's that easy." his cock throbs under his jeans, and god, would he love to bend you over the library table and fuck your brains out.

but he doesn't. seungcheol hates losing. he won't be the one to break first. he won't be the one to lose in this little game with you. he will make you break and have you on your knees.

rival! seungcheol who realises that he has met his match as he watches you grind on one of your classmates in a frat party. you continue your debauchery, knowing that he's staring. you'd usually give in, especially for guys like seungcheol, born with all that good package. but, the power that surges through your veins on getting guys on their knees is unmatched.

you yelp when a hand roughly pulls you off that guy, dragging you through the crowd. you realise that it's seungcheol as the crowds dilutes, and he's fucking mad. the vein bulging on his neck and the look on his face is more than a giveaway to that fact. you can't find it in yourself to pull away and let him do as he pleases.

jealous rival! seungcheol who enters a room, slamming it shut and pinning you to the door. he doesn't waste any time, burying his nose into your neck, smelling your scent and leaving wet kisses on your collarbone. "tell me you don't want this and i'll stop." his voice is low but sure. you gasp when his hands find your ass, kneading the flesh and he continues leaving marks on your skin.

he stops with a sigh when you don't respond and moves away. his apology is cut short when you switch places with him, now pining him to the door. you brush your lips against his and smirk as he follows your lips when you pull away. his scoff is replaced by a low moan when you grab his cock and squeeze the tip through his pants.

your triumph is cut short when he pins you again but this time with your face to the door. he grinds against your ass and you moan in unison at the feeling. but it isn't long before you're trying to overpower him. well, this is going to be a long night.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia

[librarycards]

Hey, that's my book, Failure to Comply!

Cavar's Failure to Comply is an abolitionist text concerned with trans, disabled, and Mad liberation as a speculative art.

Every story has its fugitives. “I,” a deviant self-hacker with three arms, two stomachs, and no name, is on the run from RSCH, a high-tech, authoritarian government that mandates wellness and carves the contours of truth itself. When I is kidnapped at axe-point to be mined for forbidden memories, they must struggle against RSCH’s medical abuse to recapture their history, reunite with their lover, and rewrite their future—or risk remaining Patient forever.

I crosses an epistolary, time-flipped dreamscape as they recollect their memories from RSCH’s hungry archive, and, in the process, write the story of their liberation.

Rivers Solomon said this about it:

Failure to Comply is a striking and fresh examination of life under boot of hegemonic corporate society lovingly and ecstatically told. With language that sings and stings, this novel disrupts the status quo with the form and poetry of its telling. This book made me feel. Each sentence excited and thrilled. I loved it.

It'll be out on August 6. A percentage of the proceeds from pre-orders of FAILURE TO COMPLY (check out the new ~official~ cover!) now-June 30 will go to Palestinian LGBTQ organization alQaws. In July, for disability pride month, a percentage will go to the anticarceral care collective/respite space Wildflower Alliance.

If you haven't pre-ordered your copy yet, now is the perfect time. Consider adding on goodreads –– where there's currently a giveaway going! –– and storygraph while you're at it, and tell your friends!

[see the original post about my book here :)]

[nezuscribe]

there is so much that miguel o’hara wants to do with you that it worries him he won’t be able to complete it all in a lifetime. 

he wants to see your face when he wakes up in the morning, the sun framing your body in such a way that he wonders if you truly are an angel on earth. he wants to spend evenings cooking with you, watching as you move around the kitchen with such grace as he helps along like a lovestruck fool as he follows all of your directions. he wants to clean the dishes and put them away only to see you using them a day later. he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. 

but miguel knows that with his lifestyle, almost all of that is impossible. he can’t possibly suck you into his dangerous world on account of his selfishness, and he can’t watch you get hurt. you’re perhaps the only good thing he has, and if he lost you, he might as well have lost his whole world. 

so instead he shows it to you in a different way (seeing how he’s not always the best with words). 

he presses hot kisses to your naked chest, eyes taking in your beauty, his ears taking in your ragged breathing. it reminds him that you’re human, and it reminds him that you’re his. 

he’s so soft with you those nights he feels like everything is crashing. his large hands ghosting over your body, not wanting to hurt you with his strength. and even though you trust him, know that he’d never harm you the way he does his enemies, he stops, eyes glancing up at you to make sure you’re alright with it. 

but on other nights, when he wants to show you just how much you mean to him, he goes animalistic. 

he fangs are showing as he cry around his cock, his claws palming at your breasts, his loud moans mixing with yours as you arch your back so he could reach even deeper. 

“fuck, just like that sweetheart,” he grunts dropping down so that he could suck on your neck, licking and biting at every inch of exposed skin he can. the necklace he bought you with his initials on it dangles across your tits, and his eyes darken with pride, “take me jus’ like that, love you so much.” 

“you’re so big!” you whine out, gripping at his large biceps, eyes shut with pleasure as little tears escape, falling own your cheeks as your mouth fall open. 

“i know,” he assures you wiping the tears away as he kisses the corner of your mouth, his hips going at such a speed that he knows is inhuman, his cock hitting the spongy part inside of you that you love so much, making your toes curl as you press your chest up to his, “you’re doing so well, y’know that right, you know that i love you?” 

you nod helplessly, being fucked dumb as his balls slap against your ass, the sounds that filled the room sinful as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers digging into his dark curls as you bring him down for a kiss. 

“fuck, you’re clenching down on me so hard, gonna’ cum babe, hm?” he sucks a harsh breath in from between his clenched teeth, his abs flexing as he tries to control himself. but he feels his release coming, knowing he can’t stop it, especially with the way you’re sucking him in. 

if anybody saw, they might have said he fucks you like he hates you. with the way his relentless pace is set, but to you, you know it’s the exact opposite. his soft kisses he gives you after he sucks harshly on your neck is a giveaway, and the way he mutters you praise after praise is another. 

“i’m gonna, mhh!” You cry out, squeezing around him as your walls spasm, coming around his length as you essence shine on his cock, a milky base surrounding around him as he hips stutter to a stop, pulling out s he finishes across your chest, his head thrown back in pure euphoria as the two of you come down from your high. 

and if they saw the way he gently cleaned you up afterwards, carrying you to the bath he set up, they’d take their words back. he may fuck you like he hates you, but damn does that man care for you because he loves you.