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bluesaie · 1 day

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⋆ ໒ride me, babe g!p bada

bada stared at the whiteboard blankly, not processing whatever the teacher was saying, not because she didn’t understand the content, but because she already knew whatever she was teaching. she tried to stifle a yawn as she knew that the teacher would call her out for making even the smallest sound. she hated bada’s guts, all because she was a delinquent, a troublemaker, yet she could score the highest in their grade.she had accused her of cheating once, when she had attained full marks to a math test that she was late for, but the school hadn’t found any hint of foul play. so all she could do was pick on her during class for any of the smallest reasons as a way to vent her anger.

she didn’t know how much time had passed, but finally the school bell rang, indicating it was lunch break. as soon as the teacher dismissed the class, students sighed and groaned, getting up from their seats and stretching themselves before running towards the cafeteria to try to be first in the queue. bada , however, couldn’t care less and plopped her head onto the table, feeling tired from just the first few hours of school.

she was about to close her eyes for a nap when her phone buzzed, indicating that there was a message notification. upon checking who it was, her eyes gleamed with mischief and she wasn’t feeling tired anymore.

, the message read. It was from you - her lover? friends with benefits? you two didn’t put any label as to what your relationship was even though it had been a few months since you two had first fooled around with each other. not wanting to let you wait, she immediately stood up, the chair screeching behind her, and she headed off towards their rendezvous point.

it was a classroom located in the unutilised wing of the school, furthest from where everyone usually had their lessons. the school had stopped using that wing as the facilities were old, and they had plans on upgrading the building so they hadn’t demolished it. you two decided to carry out your fun in the furthest classroom as there was a low possibility that anyone would walk by or hear you.

the moment bada opened the classroom door, her eyes laid on a certain girl and she licked her lips, feeling herself get hard. a lone desk was in the middle of the classroom and you was sitting on it, facing the door that you knew bada would enter by. you had your skirt lifted up and legs spread, a finger playfully circling around your clit which was still covered by your panties. when you had seen bada enter, you smirked and let out a moan, knowing that your actions would turn hef on immediately.

“you were taking too long, so I decided to start the party myself.”

bada growled, as she knew that you was teasing her. with long strides, she walked over to you and claimed your lips in a bruising kiss as she positioned herself between your legs. you reciprocated with equal force and passion, wrapping your arms around her neck to bring her closer. bada bit on your lips hard enough to draw blood and you moaned as it felt so good, mixed with the pain. teeth clashed again one another as tongues explored each other’s caverns, licking every area and tasting one another’s sweetness. you two didn’t care about the mess you made - saliva dripping down from where your lips were connected. all you cared about was the pleasure that you two were feeling at the moment.

When bada pulled back, she took a moment to admire your swollen lips and flushed look, her eyes practically begging for more. her eyes travelled lower to land on your full bosoms, a part of you that she loved to play with. they were full, yet not big. they were enough to fill her palms, and for her to take whole into her mouth. you caught bada’s hungry eyes and where they were staring at, so you decided to give her what she wanted.

with nimble fingers, you unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your cleavage and the laced bra. bada’s mouth watered, wanting to suck on the mounds and so she swooped in, burying her face in your cleavage, taking a deep breath of your strawberry scent before nipping and sucking hard on the sensitive skin.

“a-ah! bada!”

you fisted bada’s hair as she continued to suck marks onto your cleavage, an unconscious action on how you wanted more. her hand creeped up and pushed the bra cups upwards, exposing the breast and the hardened nub. without warning, she took one of the nipples into her mouth and started sucking and licking on it while she rolled the other between her two fingers. your moans went higher in pitch, since your nipples were the most sensitive. after sucking on the nipple till it was erected and swollen, glistening with spit, she went on to give the other side the same treatment.

As much as you loved the attention your breasts were receiving, you felt yourself getting wet and started to thrust your hips upwards onto bada’s groin, trying to find friction to relieve herself.

“b-bada… my pussy needs you…” bada raised a brow and looked down onto the said area, and behold, the panty was soaking wet with pussy juices, almost staining the wooden desk you two were on. she pushed two fingers onto the panty, right where her throbbing pussy was.

“you’re all wet from just this? i guess you really are a slut, huh?”

you moaned at the degradation, loving how it rolled off her tongue.

“yes! a slut just for you!”

bada smirked at your begging, and pushed the soaked panties aside to thrust her fingers into the wet heat. a squelching sound could be heard from how wet you was, and bada got harder upon hearing it. she started pistoning her fingers hard into the tight pussy, while rubbing the clit with her thumb, causing you to scream at the delicious friction you was experiencing. her fingers were so thick and long, allowing your hungry pussy to stretch around them, fingers reaching deeper than when you finger yourself.

soon, two fingers were not enough and your hips canted upwards, wanting the digits to reach in deeper.

“another finger… my pussy wants more…”

And bada added another finger in, and the additional stretch burned a little but after a few thrusts, you were screaming once more. she angled her fingers upwards, knowing that her fingers would brush against your g-spot. When she heard a sob from the moaning mess beneath her, she knew that you were about to cum. bada sped up her fingers, pistoning and scissoring them into your core at a rapid speed.

“I- I’m about to cum!” you screamed out as you felt your orgasm rip through you.

Juices squirted out of your abused pussy onto bada’s hand, a few drops landing on her crotch. you felt so overwhelmed by your orgasm that you started to scrunch up into a ball, but bada’s figure prevented you from closing your legs and instead, she pushed your legs further with her free hand while her fingers showed no stopping and her thumb pressed down hard onto your swollen clit.

“bada.. Please I can’t-”

Another wave of orgasm came and you screamed as more juices started pouring out of the swollen hole. bada bent down and whispered into your ear, as she rubbed against your g-spot hard with the rough pads of her fingers.

“This is for starting without me, sweetheart.”

you sobbed as you felt more slick gush out of your hole, feeling so sensitive after cumming so many times. Finally, bada withdrew her fingers, your stretched pussy gaping at the loss.you felt so lightheaded after being stimulated so many times, breathing hard to catch your breath but you knew that it wasn’t over till bada was done.

she walked away momentarily, and returned while pulling a chair in tow. Setting the chair right in front of you, she took a seat. she unbuckled her belt, unzipped her pants and pulled her underwear to the side, only freeing her cock. It was thick in girth and was longer than any of the dildos in your collection. As it sprung free from its constraints, it rested against bada’s abdomen, hot and heavy.

you stared at it with lustful eyes, unable to wait for it to wreck you pussy.

“Ride me, babe.”

your legs felt wobbly and weak after the orgasms, but you obliged nonetheless. you was on birth control so condoms could be damn, allowing you to feel each other raw. Slowly, you positioned yourself above her, legs on either side. you pushed your panty aside and with a trembling hand, you guided the length towards your wet core, rubbing it on the slit a few times before sinking down onto it with a moan.

bada rested her hands on your hips, guiding your downwards. But it was too slow for her liking, so she slammed you down onto her cock as she thrusted upwards, making sure the whole length is buried deep inside you. you threw your head back as you let out a slutty moan, feeling so full of cock, so deep in your that you could feel it bulging out of your lower abdomen.

you continued to bounce on her cock while bada laid back and watched you do the work, occasionally grinding your hips down to feel it much deeper. But your legs started to give out on you and your rhythm started to slow down. bada knew that you weren’t able to ride her much longer, so she decided to fuck you herself.

With a bruising grip on your hips, she started to fuck your throbbing hole mercilessly, using you like a fuckdoll.

“You love this? When I’m using you like the fucktoy you are?”

you whimpered as you nodded your head, too out of it to form coherent sentences. bada gripped your long hair to pull your head backwards, allowing her space to suck hickeys onto your unmarked neck. your nipples constantly brushed against her shirt as you was forced up and down, causing you to feel so sensitive everywhere and overwhelmed with pleasure.

“bada…”

your grip on her shoulders tightened as you felt your climax nearing and a final thrust, you let the built up pressure go, as you squirted onto the fabric beneath you and bada’s dick, feeling wave after wave of pussy juices squirt out of your stretched and abused pussy. As you came, your pussy tightened around the shaft and bada came as well, releasing deep into your core.

you loved the feeling of being filled, especially with bada’s cum. When you felt her dick starting to soften, you got up with trembling legs and cum started to leak out of your gaping pussy and along your thighs.

Pecking a final kiss onto her swollen lips, you arranged your panties back in place and made sure your uniform looked neat before walking out of the door, not forgetting to send a flying kiss. bada chuckled at the scene, knowing that you was once again teasing her so that she would fuck your brains out the next round. Hearing the bell ring, she quickly tucked her slick-covered dick back into her underwear, arranged her uniform properly and headed back to class.

That day, even if anyone had seen dried cum down your thighs and bada’s groin area wet, the scent of sex lingering around the both of you, no one had dared to mention a thing.

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee x fem reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee imagine #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x y/n #swf2 x reader #smut #street woman fighter 2

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voltrixz · 10 months

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hey guys

#this took so long to do for no reason (still getting used to drawing on mspaint with a mouse)#its fun but still not used to it #anyways this was silly #might do more of these with tssm characters maybe....#uhhh not sure if i tag this with my art tag or uhhhhhh #eh sure for now why not #voltrixz art dump

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buckleydiazmp4 · 3 days

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do you mind if i ramble in the tags about my weird relationship with making art in fandom for a second

#as someone who is studying art as a career one thing i have realized and also been explicitly told by various teachers #is the fact that having a 'consistent' art style is so overvalued sometimes that it ends up limiting you as an artist #literally i'd say 99 percent of the stuff we do in uni doesn't require consistency. it's actually valued when there isn't one #after all it is about learning and honing skills isn't it #so it has kind of put my personal conflicts in a different perspective #because before i started this degree i used to struggle so much with creation in non-academic spaces (which is pretty ironic. i know)#because the ppl and art i admired was mostly composed of art in fandom spaces #and the most appreciated artists in these spaces tend to be the ones who have a nice defined unique style #which isn't bad. i actually do still wish i could reach something like that #but it made me not want to create as much as i desired because i felt 'inconsistent' and i took that as a negative quality in my art #and it was so frustrating because nothing i tried seemed to 'stick'#which was also due to the fact that none of the varyingly different styles of drawings i posted seemed to reach many people #and yes i have heard time and again the whole schpiel of 'creating for yourself is better and quantity of likes/notes shouldn't mean as muc #to you as long as you're satisfied with your art blah blah blah'– c'mon. we all want our creations to be admired i'm tired of pretending #like i don't. i put it out there for a reason and it is for people to at least acknowledge it. it's the point of fandom. it's community #it's interaction. or at least it should be. that's another conversation though #so anyways since i started uni some time ago this frustration has been receding but it's very much still present #even more so when i get excited about doing/drawing something and then halfway through i get that pull in my chest of like. i'm actually #starting to hate it bc i can't reach what i want to #and so there's this disconnect that happens because i have many ideas and desires to create but i feel (even if it might not be true)#that i don't have the skillset to meet those ideas #which literally happens to almost if not everyone i know i'm not alone in this. it still sucks though #so i end up with about a dozen unfinished works monthly bc i start it/i reach halfway and hate it/i look at art and get inspired bc artists #in fandom are SO talented/i go back to it/i still can't reach the skill level i desperately want/i abandon it indefinitely #it's a horrible cycle that i really haven't been able to escape lately #it's also worse when you're at a time in your life when you don't actually have the opportunity or the time to try to achieve consistency #because you really just physically don't have the time to practice. which is the number one advice every good artist will give you #i am running out of tags but the point is. i hope we stop subconsciously putting consistent art styles in a higher pedestal bc it can be #very stressful for artists who struggle to find that in their creation #art related

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loserlvrss · 3 months

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꒰ 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ꒱ 김동현

summary : you’ve been bored of your boyfriends calm demeanor, so you decided to prank him just to see if he’d start a fight — however, it gave you something much better

genre : kinda angsty, suggestive, leehan x afab!reader tws : language, kinda toxic behavior, suggestive content author notes : sorry this took a while i’ve been supah swamped but i hope you enjoyed the direction i took your request in !! word count : 1.4k

you don’t know why you were doing this. even as you applied the black, green and blue makeup, you couldn’t think of a valid reason. yet, here you were, sat on your couch scrolling through your phone, just awaiting the opportunity to prank your sweet, unsuspecting boyfriend.

maybe he’d gotten too comfortable in your relationship. hell, you used whatever excuse to try and justify it. but, the truth is, you wanted to see if he had it in him to get mad at you. he was so damn peaceful all the time — you loved that about him, really — nonetheless, deep down, your heart raced with the thought; the anticipation when he’d finally catch a glimpse of your artwork that he’d deem someone else’s.

this was fun.

you knew it’d work. you’ve never let leehan purposefully leave marks on your skin, not because it didn’t feel good to have him kiss you, but simply because you’ve always found them tacky and a hassle to cover up. you’d wasted so much makeup in the past trying to do so, so whenever he’d come close to leaving purple patches, you’d tell him to stop. he’d even bargained with leaving them in places only he could see, but you still refused. especially if you couldn’t return the favor.

you knew this was an evil way to push his buttons, that you oh-so-desperately wanted to see pushed. it was selfish, really, however at this moment in time the plan was already set into action. you wanted to start a fight, just to see if he could.

he’s never gotten mad at you. he’s never yelled at you. he’s never dared put a hand on you. and that was a dream, but somewhere deep down, you knew it was also just as boring as it was desirable. you wanted him to yell at you — at least once — manhandle you — consensually, of course — you wanted so much, and maybe this wasn’t the right way to bring it up, but it didn’t matter anymore as his voice broke through the silenced air.

“what’s that?”

“what’s what?” you asked, acting obliviously as you scrolled through twitter and instagram in turns.

he shrugged, and you don’t know if it was the fact that he seemingly didn’t care, or if it was that maybe he just brushed it under the rug as anything else, that began to piss you off.

nonetheless, you decided you were in it for the long run. after all, you wanted to see if he’d start the fight.

and throughout the rest of the afternoon you’d catch leehan staring in your direction, shifting his gaze when you’d make eye-contact. he kept a calm demeanor, never asking again what the purple marks on your neck were. he’d even hugged you before he left for practice, getting all up close and personal with the artwork.

you were finding it hard to believe he hadn’t noticed.

maybe he was gathering his thoughts. maybe he was trying to decided why you didn’t smell like another man — why he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. maybe as much as his buttons were pushed, this was it for his stemmed anger. maybe dance practice was his way to relieve the stress you caused from time-to-time. maybe the cool, calm and collected leehan was the only version of your otherwise, smiley, boyfriend.

maybe you were beginning to feel bad because you had no idea the feelings he had towards this prank. did it upset him? you wouldn’t be none-the-wiser to it if it had. he was good at shielding emotions, and maybe that’s where you needed to draw the line. maybe that’s where your conversation should’ve began, instead of whatever the hell tiktok had inspired you to do.

you kept looking at the clock on your home screen, counting down the minutes until he’d come back to you. and just as you had decided to end the prank, opting for a civil — adult-ish — conversation, a text illuminated your dark screen.

it read: we need to talk.

yet you couldn’t decipher the hidden meaning. of course you knew what it was about, that’s the only thing that’s been wrong throughout the last few months between you two. what else could it be? and why, now that you were finally getting what you wanted, didn’t it feel good?

you didn’t answer him, partially because you didn’t know what to say; it was a prank. i just wanted to see if you’d get mad at me. i’m so bored of this. nothing seemed correct, or frankly, truthful.

you also knew that he wasn’t far. he wouldn’t have texted you otherwise, just to torcher you — though it would’ve been deserved. so, you waited by the door for your boyfriend to get back, the thought of washing away the eyeshadow long gone.

then, it finally opened with the pattern of your key code. the air became thick and you found it hard to swallow with a lump in your throat. were you sorry? yes. did you feel bad for being immature? yes. was a tiny part of you still curious to see how this would play out?

yes.

"y/n," was the first, and only, thing he muttered for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes. you watched as he put his bag down, eyed him as he took his shoes off, and almost burst when he ran a hand through his hair. maybe leehan was able to torcher you, even if unintended.

his eyes finally met yours, but then they drifted to your neck, and further to your collar bone. he knew. he's known since the first question left his lips hours and hours ago.

"what's that?" his arms snaked between each other, and you found it wrong to think it was hot, but you very much did.

almost like deja vu, the same feeling crept up from down within you. "what's what?" you reenacted. although this time, he didn't let it go. he approached you quickly, too fast to get away before you were sandwiched between the plaster and his body.

his hands were slow with movements. those oh-so-stupid-fucking-hands that had you, literally, at his fingertips. one forcing your head by your jaw to expose your neck, while the other brushed away the hair that disguised the marks from his view.

you fronted being indifferent, but truth be told, if he wasn't holding you up your knees would have buckled already, leaving you as a mess on the floor in front of him.

"you must think i don't know you," he voiced, holding eye-contact as he pushed his thumb between your lips, gathering just enough saliva to then press the digit to your neck and swipe. and it smudged with enough force, despite being labeled as waterproof. "tell me why you felt the need to paint these on. i couldn't think of one good reason all day, princess."

and the nickname he always called you — innocently and less than — had your heart in absolute shambles; the anticipation was just as good as if he'd raised his voice you thought. maybe your vanilla-scented boyfriend had finally gotten the hint that you wanted more, despite going about it in a less than thoughtful way. and maybe you realized that you didn't hate that he was always nice, no you loved that about him, but sometimes it was okay if he wanted to be a little bit meaner with you. after all, he could always say my ... anything he wanted, and that would still mean that he saw you as his forever only.

"i-i," you couldn't think straight when he attached his lips over the previously (fakely) marked spots. his breath was hot, lips gentle then firm as he sucked against the spots he knew you'd rarely let him have his way with. "i — uh, fuck. leehan,"

his voice was low against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and a whimper up your throat, "if you wanted something, you could've just asked me, baby. i'd give you anything."

the eyes that you've grown comfortable with always seemed to be there despite the firm placement he had you in. you knew he loved you more than anything, so you knew his words were true. and his demeanor broke when he kissed your lips, almost giving you whiplash.

his palms laid flat against your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweetly, "if you wanted everyone to know that you're mine, let me do it myself."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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bet-on-me-13 · 9 months

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Unknown, the Wandering Hero

So! We all know the typical Vivisection AU, right? Danny is revealed to his parents and they take it in all the wrong ways. They capture him, Vivisect him, and eventually he manages to escape with the help of his friends.

But what about his Rouges?

Sure, we all like to think of some of the more friendly ones like Ember, or Sydney, or Johnny 13 and Kitty, but he has WAY more Evil Rouges than good ones.

Without Danny there to reign them in, the Rouges spread out across the world to fulfill their obsessions, unhampered by the Heroes and Villains of the world that have no means to fight them.

And Danny? He feels responsible. He was the one to open the Gate, he was the Sacrifice, the one to let them through. And when the going got tough he just up and left? No, that won't do.

His Obsession is Protection for a reason, and nothing has changed. All he needs to do is expand his area of focus a little.

Danny, after healing up, starts wandering the world in search of the Ghosts who have escaped into the Mortal Realm. He battles all of his old foes, as well as many new ones who he hadn't met before.

His travels take him far and wide.

He defeats Skulker in Metropolis, as he is trying to hunt down the Super Family for their pelts. They are the last of their race after all, so he is inclined to try and hunt them. Honestly dealing with Skulker was easy, dealing with the Rich Asshole who was funding him was a nightmare.

He chases down Spectra in Gotham as she tries to feed on the misery of an entire City. (Thanks to @impyssadobsessions for the idea, this Prompt specifically). She is actually a very tough fight, especially powered by both the Misery of an Entire City as well as his Own Misery, but he manages.

He defeats Technus is Central City, as he tries to Raid Star Labs for their advanced Tech. It actually took a while to beat him after he amped himself with all that Power, and he did need help from the Local Hero to deal with him. He's just thankful Technus is one of the more "Harmless" ones.

After every Victory, he sends them back to the Realms using the Banishing Spell that Sam taught him a while back (the only bit of magic he ever really managed to master).

He knows they'll eventually find their way back out, but it's all he can do anymore. It's his eternal Punishment for unleashing them out into the World in the first place. He was the Catalyst for this Situation, now he was tasked with Fixing it, no matter how long it took.

...

The Justice League is caught in a tricky situation a the moment.

In the past few months, they have been encountering more and more of these Extra Dimensional Beings known as Realms Ghosts across the World.

Justice League Dark has had some success in battling them, but even they are getting tired of having to deal with every single incident alone.

They did get approached by a Government Agency known as the Ghostly Investigation Ward that seemed to want to help, but it didn't take long to realize that their main Aim was to Genocide the entire Race. The JLA had quickly cut ties after realizing that, and took what little Tech and Information they had been able to gather.

Still, it wasn't easy to deal with these Entities.

Thankfully, they have had some outside help. An Unknown Being has been routinely showing up whenever a Realms Ghost appears and defeating them, before using a (as described by Constantine) "Rudimentary Banishing Spell held together by willpower and luck" to send them back to their home Dimension. There's honestly no way it should be functional, but he did make it work either way.

They don't know much about this Unknown, aside from the fact that he seems to be the only one able to consistently damage the Realms Ghosts. His Powerset leads them to belive he may be from the same Dimension, or at least drawing his power from the same Source, but as he actively avoids the League and takes every opportunity to not talk to them, they know they aren't getting any answers any time soon.

Over the past few months, they had affectionately started referring to him as Unknown, creative they know, because they could never get his Real Name. Sure, some of the Realms Ghosts seemed to recognize him, but they always called him stuff like "Whelp" and "Punk" and "Usurper", which were not very good names to use when referring to him. Although the last one was a bit concerning.

They had only managed to trade a few quick words with Unknown in the past few months, but it was enough to get the Gist of it. He was just doing his job, sending the Realms Ghosts back where they belonged. There was apparently a Tear in Reality letting them through, but he seemed hesitant to reveal what he knew about it.

After a few months of sparse interactions, they eventually managed to convince him to at least take an Emergency Communicator. Just in case. They even let him take it apart to look for any Tracking Devices, which earned them a small bit of trust. They took whatever wins they could.

Fortunately, it seemed he never did need it. In fact he was getting more and more efficient with every battle, defeating his foes in half the time it would have taken before.

Unfortunately, it didn't last forever. One day, the Communicator went off, a distorted voice quickly saying, "Need backup, some of them decide to Team Up" before cutting out.

They quickly rushed to his location, finding an active battlefield with no less that a dozen Ghosts battling Unknown. And he seemed to be on the ropes.

With their arrival, the combined force of the Justice League and Unknown eventually managed to defeat the Group of Ghosts. Justice League Dark volunteered to work on the Banishing Spells while the others cleaned up the damage from the Battle.

One of them approached Unknown to make sure he was ok, and froze.

During the battle, Unknown's Mask had been Torn off, and they could finally see the face of the Hero they had been working with for the past few months.

And he was a Child.

#Dp x dc #Dpxdc #Dc x dp #Dcxdp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Vivisection AU #Wandering Hero AU #Danny's Hero name is Unknown #Danny isn't in a good place right now #He has an unhealthy mix of a Savior Complex and Survivors Guilt #He believes that this is all his fault and none of this would have ever happened if he hadn't been stupid enough to step in the Portal #Danny is of course Wrong since he parents would have eventually made the Portal work whether he stepped in it or not #And in that scenario there would have been nobody who could stop the Ghosts at all and they would have run rampant #The JLA is horrified that they let a child fight their battles for this long #Of course they understand him since they are the exact same but they still feel bad for not supporting him more #(As if Danny would have let them)#Whether Danny let's himself be taken in by the League or runs away from his problems again is up to whoever picks up this post #I leave it humbly in your hands

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safetypinxtales · 4 months

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400 years | Azriel

summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.

words: 3.2k

warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description

notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍

masterlist

Thud.

The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either.

But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel.

The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks.

“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”

Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles.

That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries.

“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.

Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.

It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites.

Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.

You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy.

The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.

It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.

“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes.

“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about?

“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”

The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.

“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”

Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room.

The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic.

Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.

“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands.

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.

“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”

“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.

Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…

You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–

“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is that Rhysand?!”

At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you.

The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord.

You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics.

“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!”

The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.

And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….

“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.

The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look.

“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.

His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.

“Oh, please.”

The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.

“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”

Nothing?

From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.

“What? Like you can do better?”

Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours.

He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.

“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.”

The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa.

No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating.

You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement.

He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…

You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield.

His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours.

“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.

You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”

With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks.

“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away.

With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…

You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him.

Let me be your muse.

His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…

Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking.

The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing.

A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother.

The reality?

Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him.

Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.

Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment.

You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers.

You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.

It made it annoyingly hard to focus.

The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped.

“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his.

Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”

400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes.

“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist.

That is a very long time.

Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl.

“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before.

It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong?

You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.”

Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat.

Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye.

The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes.

It took your breath away.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head.

His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet.

“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.”

That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face.

“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.

His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.

That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.

There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you.

So dangerously close.

He was your friend.

Right?

“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.”

You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.

“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.

“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”

You froze.

The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.

Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth.

Azriel loved you?

Azriel loved you.

The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his.

The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage.

He was everywhere.

The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible.

You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air.

You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest.

“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness.

He swallowed, “It is.”

“So is mine,” you revealed.

“Yes, I can hear it.”

Oh.

“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out.

Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his.

This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.

Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.

This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.

It was claiming.

And so you let him claim you.

Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.

A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.

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tags: @missus-shadowsinger

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine

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rxmye · 5 days

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" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

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@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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beesspacedotorg · 4 months

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Third Leg?

Summary: after spending time with Minho after exams, you remember something he said in the heat of the moment about your packmate Jeongin. You decide to confront Jeongin about it, because after all, what's the worst that can happen?

Warnings: sex. uh. poly ot8 and reader. more omegaverse. continuation of Dibs but can be read on its own. breeding kink?? manhandling ??? reader is lowkey a brat, uh. Jeongin's dick is huge. I actually don't know what else to add, so let me know if there's another thing I should put in here. reader is an omega but gender and genitals are unspecified as always

notes: I got possesed by a demon when I was writing this. I don't even have a breeding kink. Also if the title is bad, no. this is my first time writing Jeongin, so if it's bad no it isn't. this is his very late birthday present. Happy Birthday, King.

to read: Dibs

In most things, you try to be reasonable. It does not come easy to you, it doesn’t come easy to most people. You wish your pack would be more understanding of this sometimes. You know that’s an unfair thing to say about, to say to, your pack, but you can’t help it. You really don’t want to, you really can’t spend Jeongin’s rut with him. It’s the middle of the semester, you’re still convinced the Luna doesn’t like you, and you’d prefer not to think too hard about your relationship with anyone else. You’re comfortable with Hyunjin and you’re comfortable with Changbin. Everyone else, you think, couldn’t care whether you were around or not.

“That’s unfair to think, dove. Of course they want you around. We want you around.” Hyunjin says, he’s holding your face in his palms in a way that he often does when he talks to you.

“I know, but I really don’t feel comfortable yet, it’s only been a couple months, and it took me so long to get used to being around you.” You huff and you can feel a heat forming behind your nose. “I just really- I don’t want to spend Innie’s rut with him. I can’t.” Hyunjin hums affirmingly and swipes a finger under your eye to cut off a tear, but otherwise makes no comment about your crying.

“You want them to stop pushing,” he says, and you nod at him.

“I want them to stop pushing.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, please don’t say we don’t want you around. We do. At the very least, I do. Okay?” You nod at him and smile slightly as he kisses your nose, it turns into a laugh when he gets insistent, peppering kisses all over your face until you’re shoving him off and smiling wide at him.

“So.” You have a spoonful of cereal halfway to your mouth when he comes into the kitchen. In all reality, you aren’t supposed to be here. You only stopped by for a quick snack before you went to head into work, but then there was something at the shop so your boss told you to stay home. You’d intended to detour to the campus library instead to catch up on some homework, but between your first and second bowls of cereal you had switched out of your outside clothes to sweats and an old t-shirt, and now you’re standing three feet away from Yang Jeongin.

“So?” You set the bowl down on the counter.

“You don’t want to spend my rut with me.” You draw your shoulders up to your ears defensively. You think something in your scent must turn sour because you see Jeongin wrinkle his nose.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know if you’d tell me why.” You pause, picking up your spoon and stirring the milk around the bowl, listening to the clink clink clink of metal on ceramic. Something about his question confuses you.

“If?”

“Yeah, ‘if.’ I don’t want to pressure you for information if you’re not ready to give it. If you’re uncomfortable with spending my rut with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to tell me you’re uncomfortable, that’s also fine.”

“I don’t want to tell you why.” He shrugs. You’re surprised at how easy that was.

“That’s fine. I have another question though.”

“Hmm?”

“Could we hangout, or something? Before you steer clear of the house for a week and a half, I want to spend time with you. Unfortunately,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ve come to enjoy your company and if I don’t spend some time with you I might do something drastic.” He’s slowly approaching you now, crowding you against the counter. He’s given you plenty of time to walk away or move, but you haven’t, so he continues.

“Drastic, you say.” He hums, taking your bowl and putting it in the sink, not bothering to rinse it out.

“Drastic like breaking every single door that separates the two of us just to make sure you’re safe.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, nose against your neck. His hair smells like baby powder, like his shampoo that you and Hyunjin sometimes steal. You can feel him shake with laughter when your scent changes with arousal as he gets in your space.

“You’re easy.” You hit his back slightly.

“You’re mean.”

“Will you hangout with me, though? I was mostly serious.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll hangout with you.”

“Great,” he says, and you let out a small shriek as he drags you in the direction of his room. The door is halfway closed when he yells across the house.

“I call dibs until my rut starts!” You can hear the groans and complaints through his now shut door.

So, you spend time with him, both before and after his rut, and nobody comments on how annoying it is that you’re monopolizing his time like you thought they would. There’s a point where Hyunjin interrupts you because he wants Jeongin’s dick in his mouth, and when you move to leave, they both start complaining. (You left anyway, not being ready for that just yet, but the idea made you feel warm regardless.)

You don’t get to spend much time with him after that though, because then you have Minho and exams flooding your vision and your senses, and while one of those things is enjoyable, the other isn’t and for two seconds you’d like your brain to be off. Just for two. That time comes and it’s as you’re waking up from your post-fuck nap with Minho that it hits you.

“You said Innie was talking about me during rut?”

“What? Sweetheart, we just woke up.” Minho is rubbing his eyes, smacking his mouth, and blinking cutely. You feel the urge to pinch his cheek but worry that would land you in hot water so you just poke it instead.

“Yes, I know, I know, but. You said Jeongin was talking about me during his rut.”

“Yes? Why do you sound so surprised? You’re our Omega after all.” You flush again at his casual claim on you, he keeps catching you off guard with it.

“He never mentioned it to me.” Minho yawns and slings his arm over your waist.

“You were busy, of course he didn’t mention it to you. Besides, you seemed so … hesitant to spend his rut with him in the first place that he probably didn’t want to mention it at all.” You frown, brows furrowing as you think about it. You move to get out of bed when Minho stops you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“To talk to Jeongin.”

“It’s too early for one, and for two. I have some things planned for us.” His hand wanders up your shirt.

“But-”

“I thought you had learned enough to stop arguing with me? Does your mommy need to teach you a lesson?” He says this, but he’s not holding you back. If you wanted to, you could leave this bed and camp outside of Jeongin’s door until he woke up. But you don’t. You don’t even know what you want to say to him, and Minho is tracing soft circles on your skin and you’re struck with undeniable want. You ease yourself back into bed.

“That’s my pretty Omega. So good for me, hmm?”

You don’t get to talk to Jeongin until several days later. You’re too busy sleeping like the dead for a day and a half, then Chan steals you away for a celebratory dinner date, then when you finally get the chance to talk to him, you walk into his room and find him and Yongbok making out, so you’ve had to curb the conversation for later, until now.

“Innie!” He’s slipping his shoes on.

“Yeah?” He never ties them, you notice, ties them once and then slips them on and off over and over again.

“Where are you going?”

“On a walk.”

“Great.” You walk over to him and shove his jacket off his shoulders, then kick at his feet until he takes his shoes back off, and start dragging him to his room.

“What.” He’s confused despite the fact that he’s the one who let it get this far.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Okay?” He sits down on his bed, patting the spot next to him so you can sit too.

“Minho mentioned that you talked about me during your rut.” It comes out of you in a rush. Jeongin’s face flushes red. He covers his face with his hands, his huge hands with their stupidly long fingers.

“Ah. Yes. I did. Are you upset?”

“Am I up- Am I upset?” You’re incredulous. “One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and one of my Alphas wanted me during his rut and you think I’m upset?”

“Okay, to be fair. You didn’t seem too thrilled about the idea of my rut to begin with.”

“I was new to the pack!”

“You’d been with us for three months!”

“Like I said, new!” He huffs and knocks you onto your back, laying across you in the way you’ve seen the others do to him.

“Why did you come to talk to me about it?” You flush at his question and you can hear his little chuckle. The members joke that he learned how to be mischievous from Minho and Seungmin, and you’ve never seen it more than right now.

“Oh? I see.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Minho hyung says you like when people are mean.”

“Minho said what?!”

“I’m kidding, he refused to tell us what you two got up to, but now I know that I’m not too far off.” You grab a pillow from behind your head and smack him with it. He moves himself until your noses are touching and smiles at you. You smile back and poke around his face until your finger lands in a dimple.

“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” His voice is soft, low, because of how close he is to your face and he smirks when your scent fills the room.

“You do?” You nod at him and he tuts.

“Minho’s taught you better than that.” You huff and pout at him. He laughs and kisses you.

“I’ll let you get away with it because you’re cute.” You beam at him and he smiles back.

He starts with kissing you, because of course he does. It’s soft and sweet and a little hesitant and it’s similar to the way you’ve seen him kiss Yongbok, but different from the way you’ve seen him kiss Seungmin and you’re struck with the realization that he sees you as something soft and precious. That he’ll hold you with the same amount of delicacy he uses to hold Felix and your heart stutters in your chest for a minute.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He’s pulling away, looking at you with wide eyes as your scent changes. “Did I hurt you?” You shake your head at him, pulling him close for a hug for a minute as you calm yourself down.

You’ve never had a pack before, your culture has moved away from it. You had to move from your family for school and since then you’ve been relatively alone. It’s been a while since you’ve felt loved, and when you’re faced with the sheer amount of it the eight of them have to give it overwhelms you every time. He hasn’t hurt you, it’s the opposite.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Ah, I see. Hyungs’ said you might cry a little. That’s okay. Do you want to stop?” You shake your head at him, answering with a verbal “no” after he stares at you pointedly. You lean in to kiss him again and he responds with the same gentleness he did before and you can feel yourself slicking up in your pants. You hear him take a sharp inhale and then you feel his grip tighten where his hands were resting on the side of your face and neck.

“Jesus, I can see why hyung keeps you to himself all the time. You smell so fucking good.” He stops kissing you to start making out with your neck, you can feel him starting to scent you and you tug at him, whining.

“Innie-”

“Yeah, I know, but-” he cuts himself off with a groan and you can feel his hips press into yours and dear God.

“Is that your leg?”

“No.” You whine again. There’s no fucking way his dick is that big. You tell him so.

“Well. Prepare to eat your words because it is.”

You huff at him again, and really, he should spend less time around the more sarcastic pack members because his attitude is making your eye twitch. He sees it and smiles mischievously at you before landing a soft peck right below the same eye.

“I’d like to see how you handle Hannie or Seungmin hyung. They’re worse than I am.”

“They also probably move faster than you do.” He grumbles at you at that and gets to work undressing the two of you. He’s sliding his hoodie off when you’re filled with the urge to bite his biceps. They’ve gotten bigger since you’ve been introduced to him and you think it’s crazy because you hardly ever see him work out. Suddenly, there’s a large palm against your forehead and any forward movement you had started is quickly stopped.

“What are you doing?” You can feel your teeth click together as your mouth closes and you blink a couple times.

“Nothing.” He squints at you.

“You were going to bite me, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re a liar!” You’re being manhandled now, and you refuse to go down without a fight. You grab a pillow and nail him in the face with it.

“I am not! I’ve never- don’t pull my hair- I’ve never lied!”

“You’re doing it right- why are your nails so fucking long- right now!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Did you just fucking- ow! What the hell?” You finally manage to get your teeth on his arm and it’s just as great as you imagined it would be. Your victory is incredibly short lived because between one second and the next Jeongin has you pinned to the bed. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress and he has your arm twisted in a way that’s mildly uncomfortable, but that’s overshadowed by how you can feel him pressed against you to keep you pinned. He’s all lean muscle and you can feel where his shoulders press against yours and where his cock is pressed against your ass and if you tilt your hips just right, you can feel him brush against your slick hole.

“Oh? Does my pretty Omega want something?” You can hear the laughter in his voice. You can also hear how it’s dropped three octaves and you can feel it rumbling from his chest. You can feel how his cock is starting to leak against your skin.

“Jeongin-”

“I think,” he grabs your other arm, pinning your wrists at the small of your back, “that if you want anything you should beg for it.”

“Innie, you’re not being fair-”

“I’m not being fair? You bit me. I have you pinned. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to work for it.” You turn your head into the mattress and let out a small sob, wiggling a bit in Jeongin’s hold. His hands loosen on your wrists and he lifts his weight off of you enough that you could get out if you wanted to. Minho did this too, gave you signals with his body to let you know that it was okay to not want it, the problem is that you do. You like how Jeongin has you pinned, and you like the humiliation that’s going to come with begging for it.

He notices you haven’t moved and so his grip tightens on your wrists again. You feel the chuckle he lets out as he presses his weight down onto you again and you know your scent must be doing something because he inhales with his nose pressed straight against your neck.

“Get to begging, baby. I have all night.” You whine at that, wiggling and trying to push your hips back against his to fuck yourself onto his cock, but he pulls his hips back, readjusts until you couldn’t reach his cock unless you dislocated something and he laughs at you.

Jeongin does have all night, it turns out, because you spend a considerable amount of time with your forehead pressed into the mattress trying to will the shame that comes with wanting out of your body. At one point, he asks you if you’re alright, dropping the act for a bit and when you respond he resorts to taunting you.

He’s doing it now, taking his ridiculously large dick in his hand and gathering some of the slick that’s leaked between your legs to jerk it. You can hear the wet noises it’s making and you can’t help but think of how much louder it would be if he were actually fucking you. It turns out that your Alpha was thinking the same thing because he starts talking, and each word chips away at the lump in your throat.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby. Your slick is so warm, I bet it’d be warmer if I got it straight from the source, yeah? What do you think? You’re leaking so much you’ve made a wet spot on the bed, maybe I should fuck that instead, since you wanna be stubborn.” You whine in response.

“No? You don’t want me to do that? I think I should. Or should I just finish on your back?” Your next answering whine is more of a wail.

“Oh, I see. You’re a little cumwhore is that it? Want me to come inside of you? Hmm? Get our Omega pregnant?” You moan this time, drooling onto the sheets. Jeongin grabs your head and turns it to the side so he can see you better, or so that you can see him and how he’s about to waste his cum on you instead of in you. The drool smears onto your cheek and you can feel your eyes start to well up with tears because you know he’s close.

“Please.” It escapes from you in a pathetic whimper and the hand that was stroking his cock pauses.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” You know he did, but you also know that if you don’t repeat yourself and beg good enough he really will make good on his promise to finish on your back and leave you there.

“Innie, Jeonginnie, please. I want- I want-”

“Want what? Hmm? A slice of cake, a new Minecraft update?” You huff at his mocking, but it’s too wet to really hold any weight, and you can feel your lip wobbling, so you’re not surprised when what you say next is more of a sob than anything else.

“Your cock. Jeongin, Alpha, please. You said you wanted me during your rut, don’t you want me now?” It’s a low blow, and even through your desperation you know that, but you’ll do what it takes to get him to finally stick his huge dick in you.

“Oh, baby. I do. Don’t worry.” His fingers are searching for your entrance, stretching you out just enough for it to not burn too bad, but you’re so wet, and both of you are so needy, you know that you’ll just have to deal with the pain of not preparing for his stupid dick later because you want it now.

“Then,” he made the mistake of letting go of your wrists to grab your hip instead, and you ball your hands into fists and hit the bed in frustration, “why aren’t you fucking me?” He huffs a laugh.

“All that and you’re still giving me trouble? You’re lucky you’re cute, Omega. So lucky.” You start to kick your feet at him but you’re stopped by the fact that he’s slowly starting to push into you, making a home for himself inside your body and slowly forcing the breath from your lungs.

It burns, and you expected it to with how unprepared you were, but it feels good and you don’t care so that will have to be a later-you problem.

“Jesus, you feel so good, baby. Better than I imagined.” He starts a rough rhythm right off the bat, and you’re needy enough that it doesn’t bother you, besides, you’re pretty sure he was edging himself earlier, so he’s entitled to this.

“Felix hyung and I talked about it, you know. When I was in rut. You left.” The last part comes out as a soft growl, and he coughs to get himself in check before pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.

“You left and I thought about how warm you’d feel inside. Felix wondered too, said he wanted to know how sweet you were.” You hear him chuckle. “Y’know I got him to come untouched from just talking about you, pretty baby?”

You gasp, letting out a shuddery moan at that, and you hear Jeongin laugh above you. You were already halfway to delirious with how good he was fucking you- hard enough to shake the bed and bang the headboard against the wall- but something about knowing that the pack wants you always makes you just that much wetter, always makes your head that much lighter, so you can’t help but clench down around his cock and get everything around you soaked with more of your slick.

“Jeonginnie, Alpha, I- please- I want to-”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, baby. I won’t make you beg for this one.” He presses himself down against your back, knocking your knees out from under you so you’re flat against the bed and have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take it.

“The next one, though. I make no promises.”

The new angle has you going dumber than you were before and you can feel Jeongin’s breath in puffs of hot air against your neck. You whine at him, moaning as you’re trapped underneath his body and when you come it’s with white spots dancing across your vision. You’re just coming down when you feel him start to pull out and you surprise both yourself and him with the growl that comes out of you.

“Yang Jeongin, so help me God if you do not come inside of me-” He shuts you up by doing just that, bullying his knot into you until it pops and rolling the two of you onto your sides so you’re not laying in the multiple spots of wet that have stained his sheets.

“You’re bossy.” It’s said against your hair while his stupidly big hands come up to massage the crick in your neck that’s finally made itself present. “How do you get away with that when you’re with Minho hyung?”

“I listen to him. Mostly.” He pinches you, you pinch back. You sit in silence for a minute.

“Was it good? Or, as good as you imagined?” You try not to sound insecure as you say it, but you know that you’ve probably missed the mark.

“Better. Way better.” He kisses the spot he was just massaging and winds his arm around your middle. “Nap time. You’ll need your energy when I get you back for being a little shit.”

“I wasn’t.” He scoffs at you.

“Yeah, sure. And my name is Chan.”

“Hi, Chan, how are you?”

“Cancel what I said earlier. The second we aren’t locked together anymore I’m kicking you out.” You laugh at him.

#bee blurbs #ft.innie #a bee o #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #i.n x you #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin hard thoughs #yang jeongin smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut

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roseglazedlens · 8 months

Note

Nanami baby fever 👁👁?

The user is female and has a kid already, but he likes, Why not other kids? What could be so wrong with that since user kidcis such a sweetheart?

⦑ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⦒ ✧.*

NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER synopsis: you've been busy, so Nanami organises you a day off to help you relieve some pent up stress. content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, reader is a mom, daddy kink, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, fingerbashing, cervix penetration, mating press, overstimulation, nipple play, praise, pet name (princess). a/n: thank you for requesting dear anon!! i love writing aggressive + soft nanami sm, hope you'll enjoy this! « 1.8 k words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

You’re trying to take a relaxing afternoon nap. Nanami Kento doesn’t. His hand is running down your body as you lay, exploring and squeezing you in ways that are less than chaste in your eyes.

“Kento, w-what are you doing?” He moves closer, his front flushing against your back, and you feel the hardness of his chest muscles untense in your warmth.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.” Nanami draws out a whisper into your ear that resembles a low grunt. Something is nudging you on your thighs, and he uses this opportunity to round his arms around your body, reaching your breasts. They pert at his touch, and you let out a soft sound of relaxation. The firm pads of his fingers press against the plush, before coming together to roll them lazily against your nipple.

“Wh-Where’s all this coming from?” You whisper back even though there’s no one else in the house but you two. Nothing to hide. No reason to hold yourself back. But yet you do, especially when it comes to Nanami, he strips every remains of composure off your body. His other hand comes down to your belly, smoothing over with a gentle pressing grip until his fingertips crawl right above your underwear.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long. Since all the volunteering, the parent teacher interviews. I’m done waiting. Take these off.” Nanami hooks at your panties, pull on them and let it snap back against you.

“Oh, is that why you took my daughter to daycare? Is that what this is?”

“And? I have ulterior motives, so what.” Nanami knows what he wants, and he sure isn’t embarrassed by it. And right now, he wants nothing more than to feel himself inside of you. His fingers pick on your underwear once more, signalling you to lift your hips so he can pull them down to your ankles. “I can’t fucking wait anymore.” Nanami smirks, running two fingers up the length of your cunt that earns you a shiver. “Neither can you, it seems.”

You help him take off his glasses so you can see him clearer. When you do, his lustful eyes are still fixated on your body. Admiring the beauty you are in his life, speaking millions of promises to make you happy in the bedroom and beyond the bedroom with his gaze alone. That sincerity somehow makes your clit jump, but Nanami isn’t done preparing you yet.

He runs a few lazy circles along your clit, then getting impatient, places a finger inside of you, exploring the depths of you that clenches hard in attempts to fill the gap. He revels in the fact he’s making your back arch and heart race without even trying. Imagine how you will react when he does try.

Nanami’s cock is getting impatient too, his dick cramped inside his boxers begging to see your lewd face too. With the other hand that’s not occupying you, Nanami takes off the button of his pants, unzipping it to let his dick spring free onto his blue dress shirt. His other hand is not slacking either, fingerbashing into you relentlessly to let the slick of your desire permeate the air. Your cunt is drenching his finger, sucking him in, like you are desperately trying to make Nanami’s finger come.

“Fuckin’ hell, princess… Save some for me…” He cusses, removing his fingers inside you, and you let out of groan of refusal.

Your hole wants him, wants him to fill the void inside of you. Nanami rolls over on top of you, lifting both of your legs up to put over the shoulders of his shirt, now crumpled from all the action. He takes in the sight first, letting out a whistle of delight with a devillish glint in his eyes—one that he reserves only for you to see—before he lines up against you.

You feel his tip inside of you first, pussy already grasping at whatever he can give you. Your attempts at lifting and dropping your hips in desperation for more friction leaves you unsatisfied. That is when Nanami smiles, knows, and stops the teasing to indulge in your desires.

He ruts in you, difficult at first, but your body accomodates to his size soon enough.

“God… Just because I haven’t fucked your brains out in two weeks, you’re getting tighter… So you like it when daddy’s dick is too big for you?” Somehow when Nanami refers to himself as daddy, it makes your body react, pulling back your legs closer to your body for him to fuck you deeper. And he obeys, your walls wrapping tightly around him as he fucks you closer to your cervix.

“Fuck, nnh, that's it princess. Takin' me so well. You really want daddy to force himself into your tiny fucking hole and plant his seed inside of you?” Nanami's arms presses your legs down even further now, your knees almost touching shoulders, and you are pleasantly surprised to find how flexible you can be with some dick as your motivation.

“I'm going to make you into a real daddy, Kento.” Between his deep thrusts, the words slip from the back of your throat. Perhaps it's from the adrenaline of the moment. Perhaps that's how you genuinely felt. You don't know yet.

“Ohh, princess, don't make promises you can't keep.” Nanami is grinning and isn't against the idea. “But if you ever get knocked up, I'll love you, cherish you, make you the happiest mama ever.”

“Fuck...” You groan, a buzzing sensation shakes violently in your belly. Hands weakening, breath erratic, you're so close to the edge and you have to keep going.

“Hmm, does that mean you want me to cum inside?”

You ignore him, not giving Nanami the satisfaction of you saying yes, instead focusing on your belly at the knot of pleasure.

“Come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now. You don't want me to stop now, do you?” Nanami slows his thrusts, too slow for your orgasm to reach anywhere.

“Don't stop. Please.” You meet Nanami's eyes, still playful. Still waiting for your answer. “Fine... I want you to cum inside.”

“Such an honest girl. Such a good girl for me.” And this is when he takes your breath away, plunging deep into you with newfound speed and eagerness. His dick is bumping into your cervix now, over and over and over again, until all that escapes your lips are filthy cries of your orgasm and gasping breaths of his name.

But Nanami isn't stopping yet. He's almost there, so close. Your overstimulated fluids that coat around his dick is the world's best lubricant to fuck you in till you can't walk. Then, his orgasm washes over him too, thick white ropes of his come spilling uncontrollably inside you with intention to make you his forever.

Nanami sighs, now heaving frantic breaths through the air as you both lie back onto your bed. You roll around, helping Nanami out of his sweat stained shirt that's probably a little too uncomfortable after their activity.

“Did you mean everything you said just now?”

“That I love you and want a kid with you? Of course.”

“It's a lot of work you know. Having kids. You sure you're ready for that?”

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” He brings himself forward to land a chaste kiss on your lips. His hand comes down to your belly to give it a gentle rub. “You already have experience with kids. How hard could this be?”

“Oh, you'd be very surprised.”

“Then I better start learning now.”

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @kennedyswhore @emilzke @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk season 2 #jujutsu nanami #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk nanami #nanami #꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱

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wandasfifthwife · 18 days

Text

ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ our little secret

emily engstler x fem/afab!cheerleader reader

you and emily sleep slept together. nobody knows but the two of you, and you want to keep it that way

tw: smut, bottom!reader // top!Emily, r’s cheer outfit is a bit revealing (booty shorts), exhibition (locker room), fingering & oral (r receiving), slight exhibition kink, overused American movie cheer antics (gossip, revenge), r is described to have smaller hands than Emily & have a shy (horny) personality, groping, Emily calls reader baby & pretty, not proofread

1.6k words • masterlist

Gossip took up about eighty percent of the conversations you had. Whether it be with your friends or teammates, there was always something—someone—to talk about. If these discussions had a newspaper, your teammates recent hookup with her ex would be front page. The conversations spread and the topics discussed scared you, they weren’t kind—they were anything but. It was a lesson to learn, that people who gossip with you, will gossip about you—so you kept quiet as to not give others something to talk about.

But being quiet is one thing, being suspicious is another. You didn’t want others to take note on how long you would obviously stare at one of the basketball players. People are stubborn. If they catch the slightest hint of drama, their entire attention is focused on it and they’ll do anything to draw it out of you.

Your recent drama—the one you’ve been trying to keep a secret from said people—was that you slept with Emily Engstler.

For whatever reason you met her at one of the parties thrown off campus, apparently her teammate was the one who had thrown it. You had hit it off well, and soon enough you found yourself backed against a wall of a stranger’s bedroom. Some of the night is blurred—the one drink you had and your alcohol tolerance is to blame—but you know you slept together. Flashes of her naked body on yours and the soreness between your thighs hinted at it.

You told her you were a cheerleader, you never told her where.

The thought of seeing her again at tonight’s game brought a flurry of reactions from you. Your mind was filled with nervous thoughts but at the same time your body yearned for her, craving for her touch every time you remember the way she made you feel that night. Nobody knew how down bad you were except yourself, but even then you denied it.

“I cannot fucking stand Trinity,” your teammate, one you’re particularly close to, starts, “she’s been trying everything to get on my nerves.”

“What’s she done?”

“Oh you know.”

You had an idea, but you didn’t care to learn more—eyes gravitating behind her and towards another. Your heart dropping when you find her attention on you.

The change in your expression was too obvious and your teammate caught on. She crosses her arms, looking behind her to find what’s been catching your eye. You freak out, hand resting on the shoulder that’s turning towards Emily.

“Trinity’s coming,” you lie, holding her still.

She furrows her eyebrows, looking at you for a minute, “you’re nervous.”

Her statement stills your heart, making it heart to breathe as you wonder how she’s read you so well, “what?”

“So Trinity’s gotten to you too, I swear that bitch is everywhere.”

You’re thankful she’s dumb. She explains happened earlier in the locker room, how Trinity is copying her—apparently. You really try to seem interested in her story, but it’s no use when Emily’s called onto the court. Maybe when she “saw you” earlier, she was just looking at someone in your corner of the court—but double glance just now disproves that concern.

“—I suck ass at math you know, and Trinity knows too. So she went on this whole tangent on me and totally was out to try and embarrass me.”

“That’s so rude.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I have a snapchat of her sucking off some guy from our competitive school.”

“How’d you even get that,” you ask, leaning down to set your pompoms on the floor, “someone send it to you?”

“The guy did. Did it in return for my nudes. Could I send it to you later? You have her contact, just send it to her.”

“Then she’ll know it was from me, I dont need her hating me.”

“I thought she already was? Whatever. I just want to ruin that bitch’s life, she’s annoying. Anyways, why’s that player looking over here,” she points. By following the angle it lands on Emily, surprise.

She smiles, “wait, let’s make a deal. You talk to her after the game and get her number, and I wont make you send that video to Trinity.”

You agree, just wishing to move on knowing she often forgets the bets she makes.

“I won’t forget this one. You gotta hold your end of the deal. It’s really not hard, she already seems interested.”

“I don’t know her at all, where would I even get the time to ask her for her number?”

She shrugs, “fuck if I know. Maybe just go into the locker room.”

It was messy, but it was definitively better than sending that video to your teammate. You tried to occupy yourself until Emily walked out from the locker room. Your hands shook as you put your phone in your jacket, breathing heavy.

“Emily,” you sigh, feeling more breathless when she notices you, “how are you?”

She looks a little taken aback, “I’m fine, what’s up?”

“Can I have your number?”

A smile appears, relaxing you, “yeah.”

She digs in her bag for a minute, the two of you standing in silence as she does so.

“I think I left it in the locker room, hold on.”

“Oh no worries,” you mumble, following behind her and towards her locker number.

“I’m glad you asked, I could’ve gone home without it.”

She shuts the door, handing you her phone right after. You push down the heated feeling arising seeing how her hand encompass her phone compared to yours. Again silence arises as you type your number in her phone, going ahead to type a text to yours with her name.

“Can I kiss you?”

Whatever you were texting turns into nonsense as your mind melts. You type more than her name, spamming letters into the text bar to keep busy. She’s waiting, you can feel her attention on you—almost see how she’s looking at you.

“There,” you hand her phone back, growing shy, “thanks.”

She hums, taking it back. The silence comes back for the third time and you’re growing tired of it. She turns around to leave when you reach to grab her jersey, pulling her so you can connect your lips to hers.

It’s short lived, but it gives her enough confirmation to deepen it. She pushes back, dropping her stuff to hold your face gently—angling it to the side. Her kisses leave you breathless, even more than before—chest heaving in air every time she pulls back because you know she’ll come back for more. Your lips drop open in a gasp when hers press against your neck and she curses at the sound you make.

“Fuck,” her body moves yours against her locker, back hitting the cold metal, “you’re hot.”

She tears you down one notch at a time, bringing you back to how you felt that night. Mind blanking as she makes you think about each detail until you’ve been driven insane. Her hot breath on your neck, her body pressed against your front, neck making your body shiver from its touch.

Her hands slide down your back, pressing into your ass, “can I have you, baby? Please, I need you.”

“Please, yes.”

Her lips are back on yours, biting them as she slips a hand to drag your booty shorts down. She’s watching each reaction you have to her touch, especially when her fingers touch you for the first time in a while.

Each moan, gasp, whine, plea causes her to grow more wet—thighs squeezing together at the sound and sight of you.

She spreads you open, moving one of your legs around her waist. Your underwear is soaked, wet to the touch when she slides two fingers up your cunt—smiling when you shiver once they’ve reached your clit.

“Can I?”

You nod, feeling grateful that you did because after she cools the burning need for her after. Sliding your underwear to the side she pushed one in, her eyes glossing over all because of you. All because of how good it feels to see you writhe from the pleasure she brings you.

“Feel good?”

You whine, throwing your head back when she angles her fingers. There’s an attempt made to muffle your sounds realizing that the game had only just ended and there could be a janitor or another player just outside the locker room.

Adding a second finger stretches you wider, infinitely more than your own fingers. You gasp, pulling at her hair, “fuck, Em!”

She laughs, the sound airy and low. Her fingers accumulate your wetness onto them, dripping onto the concrete floor each time she pulls them out. Your body is so reactive, betraying you and showing how greedy you are for her—sucking her back in even though she’s only half an inch out.

She noses by your ear, whispering, “can I eat you out?”

You nod a hundred times, “please—oh my—please!”

The added feeling of tongue alongside the two of her fingers stretching you out felt like heaven. Embarrassingly so as you felt your orgasm creep up already upon feeling her grind her fingers up into you, tongue splayed out over your clit.

“Em, em-please don’t stop! Please, please.”

“I’m not, baby—im not. I’ll take care of you. Spread your legs wider, thank you.”

The pressure of another finger brings you back down for a second, fearful about the stretch. With how wet you are, the digit slides through easily. You let out a choked cry, grinding on them and getting dizzy on the feeling.

“How’d I luck out with such a pretty cheerleader,” she asks her self, tone teasing and playful as she smiles at you. She grinds them up, circling the three up onto your spot while her tongue presses deeper under your clit before licking upwards.

“Oh—!”

Three more times is all it took for you to come, spilling over her fingers and dripping your cum onto the floor.

@sweetmermaidlife @cryingistherepy252 @evangelinexo @jade225 @coolestgirlsworld @elliesinlove @hopeyapsalot @shreyagsn @flower479 @suckmycockerspaniel @foreingersgod @0alessia0 @tpwkrosalinda @llaarraaee @girlokwhatever @rimunagenius @joliettes @meeeerrrrraaaa @sapphicvqmpires @a111318 @kinfluenza @htttpcasti @pinkypiesblog @girlypop05 @mrsengstler @addl0vee @l1ofi @sunkissed-zegras @nareyacute101 @siutforjjmaybank @loverology @abbysbraids @luvzpaige @ilovegeorgiaamoore777 @inlovewithblondehoopers @brenw376 @vannabanana212 @pbccmyfavs @ihrtthotdads @made4myasblog @imsobabygiirl @ghostf4cee @euphternal @mih11 @iwantahugrn @nuggetchicken8 @marvelwomenarehot0 @hrtsfromjules @brisgayshit97

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kalinysu · 6 months

Note

Muzan with wife reader who failed a mission and is trying to avoid him after he yelled at her? extra fluff pls

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘. - Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None/Small angst. (?)

𝐍𝗼𝐭𝐞𝐬: LAST thing i’ll write Muzan for a while. 😭

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You had been avoiding Muzan for days. At first, he didn’t take the time to realize as he had been far too busy with other things to pay your obvious distancing any mind. He also never thought of you being upset with him for something that he did so often. Yelling? He’s yelled at practically everyone.

But you, you were his wife. That was the first time he had yelled at you, and you thought that he would treat you differently because you were his wife. But he yelled and got really angry with you, just like every other demon. It hurt you, more than he realized. And the fact that the two of you hadn’t talked in days and he didn’t notice, or rather didn’t care that something was up hurt even more.

You had been cooped up in your room for a while, and nobody had ever checked up on you or anything at all, not even your own husband.

Not that you expected it, everyone had been busy with the demon slayers and such. But still, he was your husband, and he had to have even a little free time at some point. You were sulking in bed, losing track of time, until finally, someone had opened your door.

“Get up, do something productive, like finding me that flower.”

Your husbands deep voice rang out as he rummaged through your drawing and took something before leaving without another word. The fact that he was now telling you only to find the flower stung. He most likely thought you were incapable of doing anything else.

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Days had gone by now, you had nothing, and it seemed Muzan was only growing more and more irritated as time went by. You had lost all hope of him ever coming to see you for even a split second of affection.

You were outside, somewhere. An unknown location, simply sitting on a hill in the moonlight. The flowers were pretty, but you couldn’t take the time to admire them. You were far too lost in your thoughts. You didn’t care for the flowers if they weren’t the one Muzan wanted.

Suddenly, you noticed someone sit down beside you.

Your husband.

Neither of you spoke, even though you really wanted to. It wasn’t an awkward silence, the two of you just knew it wasn’t the right time to talk. Well, you knew. Muzan didn’t talk because he didn’t want to or feel like it. He’s always been like that. He rarely showed affection through his words, but you didn’t mind to much, especially not anymore. You had grown used to the small gestures of affection from a while ago, but now you were convinced they had stopped.

“.. My lord if.. If i’ve done something to offend you—“ You started, not looking at him as you spoke.

“You’ve been distant.”

You looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, not avoiding, but simply looking across the hills. “You haven’t spoke to me in so long.. You have only uttered few words but those were orders, and weren’t frequent either.” You said, hugging your knees.

“Am I supposed to come to you? What happened to you coming to me?”

Your husband said. It sounded cold, but you knew that wasn’t his intention. You usually always came to him, showing affection and in return receiving affection back. He was right, you never went to him anymore. But..

“It seems you’ve been mad at me..”

“I was mad, but that’s no reason not to come to me. I’ve been irritable lately with all these nuisances.”

“But if your irritated.. you don’t have to take your anger out o..” You trailed off, going silent before you could even finish your sentence as you noticed him glaring at you. Looking away uncomfortably you mumbled slightly. “..Nevermind— I.. It’s fine but—“

“Sorry.”

You blinked a few times, wondering if you were hearing things. You looked back at him. “Hu—“

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

You went quiet.

“Your supposed to say you forgive me.”

“Right!!— I forgive you.” You said, still a little shocked he had actually apologized. You’d never heard that word come out of his mouth before, unless he was mocking someone but that was different.

“—‘My lord’?”

“—My lord.” You added, a small smile playing on your lips at the reminder. You leaned against his shoulder slightly, and in return, he placed a hand on your waist.

“Don’t avoid me like that again.”

His hand came up to your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, before he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. When was the last time you had kissed him. You looked up at him.

“No.”

“No? No to what?” You said, with a fake innocence, before quickly giving him a peck on the lips before he could speak.

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#demon slayer #demon slayer roleplay #muzan #lord muzan #muzan imagine #yandere muzan #muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan headcanons #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba

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boxbug · 9 months

Text

A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

#trafficzine #limited life #limlife #limlife fanart #jimmy solidarity fanart #solidaritygaming #i forgot all the tags augh #curse of not posting often #mcyt fanart #mcyt #zine illustration #zines #my art

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daedelweiss · 1 year

Text

“LIFE MISSION: SAVE MY BROTHERS” 💖 The Red Knight’s Mission (Episode 1: The Buried Memory Page 28-41)

and, finally, the last set for this episode. this was actually harder to get through compared to the rest of the sets, physically and emotionally 😭 drawing leo grieving broke me and i cried like a baby sketching that panel. i wish i could add more panels in but i didn't want to drag out the comic too long and give myself too much work. it was supposed to play out similarly to "E-Turtle Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" where leo's memories pushed back against him to avoid painful memories but i feel like that would've destroyed the vibe and somberness of the softer moments. plus it'll make the episode much MUCH longer. also leo didn't actually lose the colors of his scarf. it was more for symbolic reasons. and if the last panel of page 35 looks familiar, i took inspiration from the movie and imitated the expression mikey had when he tried to open the portal for the third time to save leo. (no, i did not trace it) it may or may not be foreshadowing for later 🤭 and yeah, the comic will be taking a hiatus……. to make more of the comic 😂 dw it's not for mental health or personal life reasons… actually it's partly that because i have an upcoming VISA interview 😭 bUT i'll still be making LM stuff behind the scenes, dw >:3 next episode won't be as drama or action packed as this one but… we will meet raph for the first time 👀 i'm really rEALLY excited to work more on the comic, and that's TWO reallys! i just hope y'all will be patient with me because it is no easy feat working on this. i love it but i'm only one person, after all 😄 thank you so so much for supporting this comic again! comments and shares are very much appreciated! 💖 BEGINNING / PREV / NEXT EPISODE (coming this april) •

( 🌿 please do NOT repost, edit, trace, use, and/or sell 🌿 )

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #unpause rottmnt #unpause rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #my ert #rottmnt life mission AU #life mission AU #separated AU #rottmnt life mission comic

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hannieehaee · 7 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: minghao x virgin!reader, established relationship, afab reader, smut soft sex, fingering, penetrative sex, they're in love <//3

wc: 1943

a/n: he looked so soft and pretty with his hair like this aaahhh T^T i didnt proofread this btw but are we surprised

masterlist

he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

you were so soft and pretty. the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, really. in his eyes, you had no flaw. and you were all his. he still couldnt get over that fact.

he felt ashamed to admit it, but he'd been waiting for this since the moment he first laid eyes on you. he always thought you were the most beautiful girl in every room you walked into. your supple skin, the shape of your eyes, the brightness in your smile, the curves along your body; he was addicted to every part of you. and now he finally had you all to himself.

it had only been a few weeks since he finally made you his. he was a gentleman, so he courted you for a while, making his intentions clear but never pressuring you into a relationship. he let you know about his feelings for you early on, but wanted to be just be your friend for a bit before officially making you his. you'd lived in the limbo between friends but not quite lovers for a while. he enjoyed the buildup of your feelings. it had only made you want him more; and in turn it made his feelings for you grow even more than he thought possible. and now he found himself overwhelmed with how much he wanted you.

you'd taken it slow. having wanted each other for all those weeks but never really tying the metaphorical knot, you came into your relationship already thirsty for each other. but, once again, minghao was a gentleman. he wanted to give you space and not give into his desires immediately. he knew you were inexperienced, which was something he ashamedly relished on. however, it was even the more reason to allow you to grow used to him as your boyfriend before moving onto that much more intimate aspect of your relationship. he waited and waited (patiently), and now he was here. with an almost completely nude you under him, just waiting for him to take action.

you'd agreed on doing it today. not explicitly, but you'd nudged at each other, suggesting it wordlessly. today would be the day minghao rid you of your innocence. you both knew you were both growing impatient, which is why it wasnt surprising to either of you when tonight became this.

"hao ..." you breathed out, eyes becoming heavy as minghao softly kissed at your neck from his position above you.

he was taking it slow. he wanted to savour every moment of finally making you his in every sense of the word. he'd been slow at kissing you, preparing you for what was to come. he'd been slow at undressing you, still leaving your underwear on for him to take off later. he'd been slow at caressing your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. and even now, he took it slow as he ground his hips against yours and softly kissed at your neck.

"patience, my love. want to take my time with you," he leaned up from your neck to look into your eyes, but unable to keep his eyes on yours for long as your lips called for him, making him have to connect his lips to yours yet again.

you kissed once more. more desperate this time than before he'd carried you off to his room. minghao didn't want to lose composure, but your adorable mewls at the feeling of his tongue licking at yours and his hips sensually canting against yours was slowly breaking his resolve. he began to kiss you deeper, harder, as his hips began digging even further into yours. he knew that if he tried to dig between your bodies, he'd find a puddle in between them. the thought made him light headed.

he couldn't hold himself back anymore, reaching towards that sacred space in the middle of your legs and softly dragging his fingers up and down. he took pleasure on the gasp you let out against his lips at such a light touch, wanting nothing more than to draw even more needy sounds out of you.

"want my fingers, angel?", he questioned against your lips.

you nodded hazily at him, no words leaving you as you simply whined and fidgeted against him, clearly in want for more.

he finally slipped his fingers past the soaked panties you had worn for him, - you'd worn such a pretty set for him; pink and lacy. pure and innocent, just like you.

he slowly snuck his fingers past the resistance of your folds and began to drag them in and out at a torturously slow pace. he adored your pretty gasps in surprise at the intrusion, unable to take his eyes off of you once again. your expression of pure bliss had him on a high, feeling himself grow even harder at just the beautiful sight in front of him. there was nothing more perfect than this moment, the moment in which he'd finally bring the love of his life to completion.

he increased the movement of his fingers inside you, making sure to curl them just right in order to draw even higher-pitched mewls out of you. his thumb had also joined the equation, rubbing itself on that pretty pearl that demanded stimulation. upon beginning to play with your clit, you'd begun to grind your hips against his hand, making minghao lose his mind. his pretty girl was seeking his touch. knowing he was giving you such pleasure was making him feel lightheaded, an animalistic desire growing in him to finally get you under him and impale you as you cried his name. but no. he was a gentleman. he wanted your first time to be soft and loving. he could corrupt you some other day, but today was all about showing you his feelings for you.

"h-haao ... fuck! please ..." your cries brought him back to earth. he felt the sudden tightness of your walls against his fingers, knowing you were about to reach completion. he began to speed up, now following a rapid rhythm that had you writhing on the bed.

"cum for me. cum, beautiful. wanna see my beautiful girl cry for me," he knew the effect his words would have for you. he'd always adored how much you wanted him. he'd known his feelings had been mutual since day one, seeing the way your pretty eyes would look at him with such adoration. his effect on you was something that drove him crazy day after day, and he was afraid that he'd soon grow addicted to the way you'd react if he ever used it against you while in the throes of passion.

it didn't take you long after that to cum on his fingers, even allowing him to play with your sensitive clit for a bit afterwards before whining at him that you felt too sensitive still. he'd have to train you to take him time and time again, he made a mental note to himself. but that would come later. now he needed you.

he adjusted you on the bed, letting your pretty head lean against some pillows as he hovered over you. leaning down a bit, he pecked your lips before smiling softly at you.

"are you ready, beautiful?", he began toying with your bra a bit, hinting at wanting it off of you.

"yes, hao. i trust you."

that was all he needed to lean down once more, kissing you with all the passion that had build up inside of him. he kissed and kissed you, allowing his hands to travel up and down your body, feeling every delicious curve and crevice adorning your body. once he made contact with your bra, he unglued his lips from yours for a moment in order to remove it, immediately letting his eyes lower to your bare chest.

"you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen, angel. do you even realize how perfect you are?", he whispered the words against you, almost as if they were a secret. in the meantime he allowed his fingertips to softly run through your supple mounds, drawing circles around your nipples as you whimpered at him to touch them. he chuckled at this, enjoying how easy it was to rile you up.

"here, baby? want my hands here?", he pinched at your nipples, dragging his thumbs over them as you whined at the feeling.

he lowered his head down to eye level with your tits, looking up at you as he let his tongue kitten lick at your nipple, barely giving it any stimulation. he did this for a while, alternating between breasts as you whimpered at him. he then unglued himself from you, softly blowing at your nipples, the cold feeling making you gasp and cry.

"you're so unreal, angel. love how pretty you cry for me. will you cry more? when i finally make you mine?", he'd began to make his way back to you, cock now laying on your stomach as he whispered in your ear.

"yes. please, hao ... want it so bad."

"i'll give it to you, beautiful. i'll give you anything," it didn't take long after this for him to finally begin to push himself inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of your walls closing in on him. your cries for him weren't helping, only making him lightheaded at the feeling of you.

you'd began to scratch his back once he started moving against you, keeping a slow and sensual pace that was rhythmic enough to have your eyes rolling back. looking at you, he had no idea how he resisted you for this long. he regretted not having taken you to bed since the moment he'd met you. but that thought only lasted a few seconds, until he heard you breathlessly gasp his name again after a particularly harsh thrust.

"do you know how hard it was to resist you? to hold you and not be able to have you? you tempted me day after day, making me lose my mind. you're pure torture. but now you're mine. aren't you, angel?", he rambled as he sped up, already seeing his end coming.

"h-hao! please! nee-need you to make me cum. fuck ..." he could see tears begin to form in your eyes. it drew an animalistic side out of him. a pit in his stomach forming at the thought of you sobbing and crying over his cock. this was enough to make him push your legs into your chest and speed up, wanting nothing more than to demand another orgasm out of you.

you came almost at the same time. you a few moments before him, with your rightness forcing an intense orgasm out of you as he groaned your name in your ear.

he was gentle and caring as he cleaned you up, even helping you up so you could use the restroom before promptly walking you back to bed, dreading even a minute of separation from you. he laid you down, cocooning you in his soft sheets before rounding the bed and laying down next to you. the way you immediately nuzzled into his arms had his heart pumping out of his chest. he was feeling endearment overload. everything you did had an effect on him.

"hao?"

"yes, my love?", he looked down at you, running his hands softly up and down your bare back, pressing you even closer to his chest.

"i love you," it wasnt the first time you'd said it, but it had felt different now. like you were giving your body and soul to him.

"i love you more."

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