#fairies. 𐦍

[wherenymphsroam]

I READ DAD BOD LEON AND LIKE JDFKD imagine praising him and getting him all flustered and needy and just 😭 he is such a hottie I NEED HIM sorry im just a lil feral abt him

GRAHHHH YES !!!!

cw: leon finally in his retirement era ??? (probably not canon but we can only hope), chubby leon, older leon, body worship, very light scent thing, a messy blowjob, he’s insecure at first the poor thing, uhhhh not proofread <3

w/c: 1.5k

like, leon is sooooo relieved when he’s (somehow) allowed to retire. genuinely probably just passes out for a good couple of days, drowsy and catching up on years of sleep he missed for a month or so. takes things day by day, waning contentedly through different hobbies, interests, just trying to like…. find his personality back after basically becoming the governments dog for the most of his adult life.

and some things really like … don’t click at first.

that he’s not nearly as active without the physically demanding day to day. the mission every other month or so that sheds him of all his bodies resources, the ones that basically force upon him that consistently low body fat percentage. sure, he still works out because at this point, it’s weird Not To after putting in so much physical work for so long.

but he’s older now, his metabolism has changed. commercial gyms don’t exactly offer the same amount of intensity that his body is so used to having to work through. and naturally, parts of him grow complacent. he eats more, rightfully so. actually has the time to go out to eat on a consistent basis, and doordash is viewed as a god sent app.

he doesn’t really notice the pounds that have crept up on him until suddenly his favorite pair of jeans doesn’t need a belt to keep them up anymore. it’s when he tucks in his shirt for a more upscale night out that he realizes his button down is more fitted against him than maybe it was the last time he dug out his nicer clothes.

but once he realizes it, he shies away from it, avoids changing in front of mirrors. and when he starts refusing to change in front of you that you notice.

sure, leon was always attractive in your eyes. but it was never the muscles, the trim ‘v’ of his waistline that kept you around. you loved him, genuinely so. and to have him around more often, able to revel in some of the domestic things you couldn’t exactly soak up when he was still an agent? it’s like heaven on earth with him.

so when you notice the slight increase in his weight — the softness that begins to pad his strong biceps when he wraps his arms around you from behind, the extra bit you’re able to hold onto when you hug him — you don’t point it out. it’s welcomed, has you touching him a bit more than maybe necessary nowadays.

the first time he abruptly turns around when you walk in while he was changing, you don’t question it. it’s when he starts to dim the lights before the two of you topple onto the bed in a passionate display that you grow suspicious. your last straw is plucked when he starts coming to bed with a shirt on. an oversized one at that. he had never worn shirts to bed before, always complained about the materials feeling against him becoming irritating throughout the night.

he tries to deny when you first confront him. plays off the way the newfound pliant skin of his sides swells out over the top of his jeans waistband. shakes his head and makes a face at you, even goes so far as to roll his eyes when you reason with him, pointing out his recent ‘preference’ of keeping the lights lower when you fuck.

“I think you’re imagining this, sweetheart. I’m still sexy,” he reasons cheekily, trying to distract you with his cheesy nature.

“I didn’t say you’re not sexy,” you sigh, shaking your head. “You’re definitely still sexy. I’m just saying you look sexy with the extra bit on you,” you hum, leaning against the bedroom door.

it takes Leon a second, trying to allow ‘sexiness’ and ‘weight’ to coexist in his head. at least not in terms of himself. he loved women, all shapes and bodies and weights included. it was a no brainer to say that yes, your logic that sexiness could coexist with more weight was correct. but on him…? he’s Leon Kennedy. he’s not fat.

“Nor am I saying you’re fat, not by a long shot,” you continue, knowing all too well what that look on his face meant. the one he wore when he was thinking too hard about something.

he tries not to flinch when your hands reach out, capturing his sides. tries to stifle the sound that wants to escape when he realizes how much more sensitive the skin there is now with the extra weight. but the pounding of his heart and heat emanating off his body tells you all you need to know. so you continue.

you’re unashamed in how you explore how pliant his sides are now, in how you trace along where the firm cut lines of his abs formerly were. gently pinching and filling your fingers with the extra skin that lies over his lower abdomen, flattening your palm over the swell there and letting it fill your palm. his breath hitches, hands twitching at his sides, itching to slide your hands off him. he yearns to step out of your grasp, but knows that’ll be too telling. so he lets you continue, let’s you have your fun.

the button of his jeans pops audibly, and it’s clear that maybe he’s gonna have to let his favorite pair go pretty soon. but that’s okay. it’s obvious how okay it is when you slide his shirt up, up, up and out of the way. when your lips finds his sternum, trailing up and down its length before moving on to his pecs. silently appreciating how they’ve swelled a bit, how the hair that scatters across his skin has seemingly spread more. you tuck your nose in, inhaling him appreciatively when you slide your fingers under the waistband of his jeans, start to shimmy the denim down.

and oh god, you’re slowly lowering yourself, letting your lips ghost over his stomach now. you’ve grown sloppier, greedier in how you lick up the salt of his skin, bite into and suck at the pliant flesh. as if a fever had overcome you.

and really, that’s not all that far fetched of an idea. it was like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again. except he’s softer, warmer… easier to paw and play with. responsive when your hands knead at his sides, his pecs. breathless and panting when he realizes his nipples are more sensitive for some reason when you drag the pads of your thumbs over them.

he could’ve gone bright pink when you ask him to strip completely. in front of the mirror no less. but he obliges, although begrudgingly. maybe a bit more hesitantly when you roll your desk chair over in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, instructing him to sit down. but that dissolves when you settle on your knees in front of it, as if sweetening the deal.

he doesn’t expect you to be so …. eager when you finally get yours hands on him. but fuck does he look good. softened thighs spread, the perfect mix between strong and soft in front of you. his soft cock, laid oh so prettily between them, ever so full balls nestled there. you really can’t help how quickly you find yourself burying your face into him, breathing him in and mouthing at his thighs.

your hands are greedy, so very greedy in how you grab at him. his thighs, the stomach that’s started to rest on them. his pecs you reach up to paw at when you realize they’ve started to create a crease between his chest and his stomach from below.

and at first, he doesn’t believe you when you tell him he looks even better like this. that if anything, you prefer him like this. doesn’t want to hear it when you try to coax him into repeating affirmations about himself, keeps his eyes off his reflection in the mirror.

but of course, he’s a weak man. you’re sat on your knees between his spread thighs, your ass practically begging to be ogled in those jeans.

and that’s what he focuses on at first. tries not to notice how you have to tilt your head slightly when you take him in your mouth, how you have to hold his tummy when you suck him off to keep it from inhabiting how far down you can get on his length. but as the heat in his body grows, as you get sloppier with spit dribbling down your chin, he has no choice but to look down at you.

and at that point, he can’t find it in him to care about the swell of his lower abdomen. he isn’t very worried about how much more space his thighs take up on the chair when you dip one of his balls into your mouth, licking and warming and soaking them in your feverish attempt to make him feel how sexy he is to you.

but by the time he’s coming ropes onto your pretty face, he finally gives in. finally obliges you fully and admits that maybe… maybe he was still sexy as fuck. maybe he did look better, healthier with the retirement weight on him.

[wherenymphsroam]

GUNDA !!!!! ty for the tag ml !! 🤍

pictured in order: euronymous (rory culkin), billy loomis (skeet ulrich), vendetta leon kennedy, n javier peña (pedro pascal) 💗 totally not seeing any common denominators !!!

tags: @ovaryacted , @rigorwhoring , @littlemissloser , @virgincels , @sqiim , nnnnn @gor3-hound 💌

MY MAN!

I was tagged by @red-orchid and @justreblogginfics to give four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !!

(That is not the only thing they have me yelling)

I'm sure this won't be at all surprising to you.

No pressure tags for @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @itspdameronthings @stealfromthedevil @navybrat817 @maggiemayhemnj @ramadiiiisme @middleearthpixie @sotwk and absolutely anyone else who wants to play and proudly show off their MEN 💗

[222col]

fairy!reader x preachers son!art

summary: you were temptation personified to art, he can barely keep his purity ring on when you tell him you need to confess your sins

cw .ᐟ nsfw, religious themes / language

꒰ notes ꒱ happy easter looool <3

the cross sat pretty around his neck, purity ring around his finger, he was the object of virtue. always dressed smartly, ironed shirts and matching socks. he never missed sunday sermons, or bible study, or family dinners. art was the picture perfect christian.

he'd heard about other boys being tested, warnings from his father, or gossiping at his weekly youth club. but art never fully understood the meaning, until you.

art's father made him sit out of the sex education classes during high school, but he was shown one video by his mother from the 80s. christian propaganda mainly, warning children of the horrors of teen pregnancy and sex before marriage.

art had never even touched himself before meeting you, too scared to even try. the idea that he could see him performing lewd acts on himself was too daunting. the only orgasms he'd ever had were during wet dreams, in which art prayed and prayed for forgiveness the next morning.

everything changed when he met you. all wide eyes and exposed skin. the first time art touched himself was to the thought of your cross dangling against your skin, the curve of your throat, the freckles on your shoulders. he cried himself to sleep that night.

you were too sweet, too unaware of his perversions. art could barely meet your eyes, knowing that he'd done unspeakable things to himself in your honour. just the image in his head of your legs against the church pew made his slacks tight.

another night staying late at the church, cleaning up the aisles for his father. once finished with his chores, art takes himself to the final pew and drops to his knees. hands clasped as he speaks directly to him, all but begging to be freed from his corrupted thoughts of you. it doesn't seem to be working though, as he's growing hard at the reminder.

"hi, artie." your voice cuts him out of focus, head snapping up to you. picture perfect in your white dress, rocking back and forth on your heels, innocent smile on your face. "h-hi," he mumbles in response, climbing up from his knees to sit upon the pew. "what are you doing here?"

you shrug softly, sliding in next to him. thighs touching his, as art's breath hitches. "must have got my days mixed up," you murmur, voice like velvet as it hits his ears. "thought your dad was here for confession."

he knows he shouldn't. knows it's wrong, that if his dad heard the next words to leave his throat he'd be done for. but art couldn't stop them if he tried. "you could— i could— you can talk to me, if you wanna?"

you nod your head immediately, as though there was nothing at all wrong with his suggestion. "o-okay," he mutters, sitting up straight, in some attempt to calm himself. "whenever you're ready."

"bless me father, for i— should i still say father?" art's ready to return to his knees and beg you to. "whatever makes you more comfortable." he attempts to encourage, turning his head to watch you.

"bless me father, for i have sinned," you continue, hands clasped together in your lap, looking up to him, before turning your head to meet art's eyes. "i'm not sure if it's a sin, but— i don't think it's a sin, but i wanted to confess it anyway."

art's desperately trying to stay level headed, to not let his mind runaway with him. he's calm, encouraging you to continue, he's prepared for whatever you might—

"i've been touching myself, father."

oh, fuck.

definitely a sin. definitely concerning you don't know that. definitely made the blood run straight to art's crotch. he already had a semi before you said that.

"oh— i see— well, that's— um," don't say it. don't say it. "where have you been touching yourself?" art can barely get the words out without choking. to say that phrase, in the lord's house, his heart is beating like crazy.

"here," you murmur, as your hands unclasp and land over your panties. "oh—" art voice hitches, looking away as your hand sits gently over your heat. his lip quivers as he looks up to the ceiling, saying three hail mary's in his head before turning back to you.

your legs gently spread, hand beneath your dress, fabric hitched up around your thighs. art had been getting off to a picture of you from the picnic after easter mass for months, and now you're before his eyes with your hand below your skirt.

he knows he shouldn't take advantage, art's torn between assuming you're doing this on purpose or genuinely being unaware. he knew his parents were strict on his sex education, or lack thereof, is it possible yours were even worse. he's cursing himself out in his head for even having this internal conflict. all too aware any other boy would be jumping at the chance to see you like this.

"do you ever?" you murmur softly, free hand crawling up along the inside of his thigh. oh, there goes any form of conflict. "mhm," he hums, not trusting his voice in that moment. his arms spread out along the back of the pews, head falling back slightly as your hand ghosts over his crotch.

unable to stop the soft whimpers that leave his lips as you begin to palm him over his slacks, his eyes darting back down to watch your movements. gently to unbuttoning his trousers, the damp mark on his tighty whities prominent. his breathing is heavy, laboured, as your hand reaches below his boxers. "oh, my—"

the feeling of someone else's hand on him is otherworldly, incomparable to his own. the arm resting behind your head slowly moves towards your body, shaking on it's way. his mind clouded solely by desire as his hand snakes below your dress.

his fingers slip under your lace panties, exploring your slick folds, jaw slack as he does. he's too focused on the feeling of your hand moving up and down on him to realise he has no idea what he's meant to do, how he's meant to touch you. his fingers bump your clit in his exploration, eliciting a moan from you.

in assumption that was pleasure, he continues. his movements messy, rhythm off but the feeling of someone else's hands is so foreign to both of you that it doesn't matter.

art's eyes meet yours, his gaze absorbing the sinful look upon your face. engraving the vision to his memory, eyes trailing down to watch the rise and fall of the cross sitting against your skin as you breathe. the soft whimpers echoing in his ears, his own mirroring yours.

his ring is cold against your skin as his movements increase in speed, evoking more moans from your lips. art's knuckles are white, clutching the wooden pew. feeling the familiar tension in his stomach, your own orgasm quickly approaching.

"oh— hphnn— god!" incoherent mumbles are all art can muster, spilling his orgasm over your hand, pooling around the base of him, staining his boxers. his name falls from your lips as his fingers lazily push you over the edge.

sat together panting, coming back down to earth, hands both sat beneath each others underwear, not moving. his eyes half lidded as they meet yours, blush across both your cheeks.

it's minutes before art pulls his slacks back up fully, gulping down his guilt before he makes the sign of the cross and drops down to his knees in front of the pew. immediately following suit, hands still sticky as they clasp together in front of your chest.

"bless me father, for i have sinned."

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

꒰ taglist ꒱ @khartalks @bluestrd @appleaali @chrattvibe @tacobacoyeet @lexiiscorect @glassmermaids @voidsuites @donteventry-itdude @matchpointfaist @stanart4clearskin @s0ftcobra @artaussi @simmerinsauce @coolgrl111 @hrrysglitter @cinnamoncunt @elsieblogs @tennisthatcher @deeninadream (to be added)

[faeriesaint]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆  𝑨𝑳𝑻.  𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬   𐦍  𝓹𝓲𝔁𝓲𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀.

���▍▍       𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺

NAME. elaine

NICKNAME.  laine.  nay-nay.  lana.

CLUMSY  NAME.  tatiana  (  used  on  the  mainland  )

EPITHETS. the  dual-talent  fairy.

AGE. ageless  (  appears  early-twenties  ):  20-23.

AVERAGE  LIFESPAN. undisclosed.

BIRTHDAY. march  14th.

SPECIES. never  fairy.

GENDER. cisfemale

PRONOUNS.  she/her/hers

BLOOD  TYPE. O-

▍▍▍      𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬

HAIR.  shoulder/upper  back  length  bob  stylized  face  framing  layers.  (  hex  code:  ???  )

EYES. an  iridescent  and  luminescent  hazel  (  hex  code:  ???  )

HEIGHT. four  inches  /  11.7cm.

NOTABLE  FEATURE  𝒊. extremely  large  wings  that  always  seem  to  catch  the  sunlight,  giving  them  a  golden  hue.  no  matter  if  she  is  standing  or  flying  her  wings  are  longer  than  her  body.

NOTABLE  FEATURE  𝒊𝒊. rabbit  ears  shaped  birthmark  just  behind  her  right  ear.

▍▍▍       𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹

BIRTHPLACE. pixie  hollow

OCCUPATION.  fast  flying  and  garden  fairy.

RELATIVES. queen  clarion.  harlequin  (  her  sibling  ).

FAVORITE  FOOD. blueberry  lemon  cheesecake.

AFFILIATION. pixie  hollow.

▍▍▍         𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻   ,   𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒕-𝒇𝒍𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈.

fast-flying-talent  fairies  can  soar  faster  than  any  other  creature  or  fairy  in  pixie  hollow  —  swift  as  lightning  and  just  as  untouchable.  they  hold  dominion  over  the  element  of  air  ,  shaping  whirlwinds  with  a  flick  of  their  wings  or  coaxing  gentle  breezes  from  the  sky.  their  wings  are  larger  ,  broader  than  those  of  non-fast-fliers  —  built  for  speed  and  storms.  this  talent  ,  with  all  its  power  and  precision  ,  is  a  rare  gift  among  the  fairy  folk  of  pixie  hollow.  

to  be  a  fast-flyer  is  to  understand  windology  —  to  know  the  language  of  currents  and  the  dance  of  the  sky.  they  are  wind  elementals  in  their  own  right  ,  conjuring  small  tornadoes  ,  stirring  cool  breezes  ,  and  toppling  whatever  dares  to  stand  in  their  path.  they  can  beat  their  wings  so  quickly  that  no  one  else  can  match  the  rhythm  —  a  blur  of  motion  that  bends  the  very  air  itself.  with  this  gift  ,  they  can  dry  drenched  fairies  mid-flight  ,  so  long  as  the  soaked  ones  still  carry  enough  pixie  dust  to  rise  again.  they  can  even  call  the  rain  —  flying  fast  enough  through  the  clouds  to  stir  the  slumbering  storms  awake.

▍▍▍         𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻   ,   𝒅𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔.

filling  pots-and-pans  with  pollen  in  the  spring.

making  cool  breezes  in  the  summer.

blowing  down  leaves  in  the  autumn.

aiding  new  fairies  reach  the  pixie  dust  tree  on  their  arrival  day.

drying  up  wet  birds.

▍▍▍         𝑺𝑼𝑩  𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺   ,   𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔.

message-talent

summoning-talent

crisp-fall-breeze  talent

▍▍▍       𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺

born  of  a  lavender  seed  carried  on  the  first  giggles  of  the  younger  newborn  twin  by  twilight  winds  ,  elaine  arrived  in  pixie  hollow  with  the  scent  of  summer  still  clinging  to  her  hair.  her  wings  bloomed  seemed  to  catch  the  setting  sunlight  and  gaining  a  yellow  hue  (  but  also  holding  an  iridescent  and  luminescent  of  a  prismatic  lilac  and  pearl  ):  fluttering  like  petals  in  a  breeze  too  delicate  for  most  to  feel.  she  is  a  fast-flying  fairy  unlike  any  other  —  not  simply  quick  ,  but  impossibly  attuned  to  the  air  itself.  not  in  all  of  queen  clarion’s  four  hundred  years  has  the  wind  bowed  to  a  fairy  the  way  it  bows  to  her.  'pon  her  arrival  ,  the  wind  stilled.  the  pixie  dust  tree  shimmered.  even  the  elder  storm-callers  turned  their  heads  ,  sensing  something  ancient  woven  into  her  flight.  elaine’s  power  is  not  loud  nor  unruly  —  it  is  precise  ,  poetic.  she  coaxes  breezes  from  silence  ,  sculpts  cyclones  with  the  curve  of  her  hand.  when  she  flies  ,  the  wind  does  not  follow  —  it  listens.

yet  for  all  her  strength  ,  elaine  is  quiet.  soft-spoken.  she  moves  like  falling  mist  ,  lingers  in  lavender  fields  ,  and  watches  the  clouds  drift  with  a  wistful  gaze.  many  say  she  carries  a  small  sadness  in  her  (  like  the  memory  of  something  precious  lost  to  time  ):  she  hums  lullabies  no  one  taught  her  and  speaks  often  of  a  fox-boy  she  sees  only  in  dreams  ,  whose  voice  sounds  like  leaves  in  autumn.  still  ,  she  is  gentle.  she  dries  soaked  sparrows  with  a  whisper  of  wind.  she  guides  new  fairies  to  the  pixie  dust  tree  on  their  first  flight  ,  her  breeze  steady  and  sure.  flowers  bloom  when  she  passes  ,  especially  lavender  —  as  if  the  earth  remembers  her  root.  the  fast-flyers  call  her  the  whispering  gale  ,  a  name  said  with  both  awe  and  affection.  some  believe  she  was  not  born  of  seed  and  wind  alone  ,  but  of  longing  —  a  wish  carried  so  far  it  grew  wings.  whatever  the  truth  ,  pixie  hollow  has  never  known  a  fairy  quite  like  elaine  and  all  who  meet  her  feel  it  in  their  bones  :  she  is  not  just  a  flyer  —  she  is  the  wind  made  wonder.

▍▍▍       𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺

elaine  and  harlequin  are  rare  because  they  are  siblings  born  within  the  same  seasonal  home.

it  is  heavily  implied  elaine  is  a  dual-talent  fairy  because  the  white  lily  shined  extremely  brightly  during  her  arrival  day  but  there  was  no  mistaking  her  overly  large  wings  and  naturally  ease  over  wind.

she's  considered  short  ,  even  amongst  fairy-folk.

while  she  isn't  a  kitchen-talent,  she  has  a  pretty  good  knack  for  baked  goods  but  unlike  kitchen-talents  sometimes  hers  do  not  turn  out  as  well.

if  i  ever  interact  with  another  pixie  hollow  character  i  leave  it  up  to  the  other  mundane  if  they'd  like  something  pre-established  or  not!

she keeps a pouch of purple fairy dust on her to allow her to become a winter-fae if needed.

[sugarxrolls]

hi precious ⋆౨ৎ˚ welcome to my comfort corner

tags:

sweets ( ∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩)

dscore ☆

fairy garden 𐦍·˚

nostalgia ༉‧₊˚.

precious creatures ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

munchies .☘︎ ݁˖

family computer core ꒰๑'͈ ᵕ '͈๑꒱ ˚

sanriocore ୨୧

pngs ⚡︎

[itsswritten]

wings universe masterlist

This is a world for Fairy x Azriel. There will be lots of one-shots and drabbles dedicated to them <3 Listed in chronological order.

Indicates smut - 𐦍

A New Chapter

Feels Like Home

Berry Stained Lips

Tell me about it

Teeny Tiny

Shadow Violet

Butterfly Kisses 𐦍

Just Some Flowery Fun 𐦍

Wings 𐦍 - can be read first <3

Finally

Earth's Song

Wings Universe Art - Stunning fanart created by my talented friend @deemsum

Wanna know more about fairy and Az? Then follow the #wings universe tag <3

[hiijin]

𐦍 one of a kind fairy yeojin 𐦍

[jadiaashley]

proof that i’m a fairy hehe ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧𐦍

[estrelladocil]

꒰͡ enchanted  ̊ ̟𐦍  forests

𖹭f magical⎯loves ˳ ׁ 𓍊𓋼 ˑ

*.☽ ₊˙  sleeping in fairy's home

made  of ﹫porcelain ˖ ✧ ࣪⠀͡꒱

𐚁̸  perfume de gardenias,

ar𐇵ma del dulce amor ﹪𖹭

꒰ ec𝘰s - de - amor  🩰  vol.𝟸

you can hear them down the bunny hole 🐇 𝅄᮫۪ 

꒰͡  𔘘  melting, 당신은  𝘥a𝘺͡𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮, 숙박 ࿐

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤⓘ by @estrelladocil ! don't repost

[tetzoro]

˚ʚ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔﹒ 𓂃˚ ⋆

Together, they stepped forward into the unknown, not as demon or fairy, but as fated souls bound together by something stronger than the war that threatened to tear their worlds apart.

𐦍 . . featuring : oni demon zoro + fairy princess aims ❤︎

[222col]

Fairy!reader who’s dating pope Hayward and she is hanging out with all the pogues and she’s kissing him while jj and John b and being pervy?

fairy!reader x pope heyward (ft. jj maybank & john b routledge)

summary: a little extra attention never hurt anyone

cw .ᐟ semi-nsfw, public setting

if pope wasn’t wrapped up in his girl, he’d be beating the shit out of john b and jj.

sat together on the beaten couch, legs draped over pope’s lap, his big hands squeezing and groping at your thighs. leaning down to your lips, almost trapping you in beneath him. a couple beers in, and his tongues sliding into your mouth.

pope’s not one to shy away from pda, not when he comes to you. but he’s never usually this bad. he looks like he’s two seconds away from crawling over your body and having his way with you right there.

john b and jj can see it, feel it— how close pope is to snapping. and they’re enjoying every damn minute of it. legs spread where they sit, lazily sipping beer as they watch. eyes half lidded, smirks on their faces.

they’re paying attention to every detail, the arch of your back, the little noises that escape you, how pope’s tongue licks the inside of your cheek.

“fuckin’ hell,” jj drawls, his shorts growing tight at the sight before him. “how’d pope manage to lock her down?”

john b all but groans in response, eyes glued to the newly exposed skin as pope absentmindedly pushes your skirt higher up.

“never thought i’d be jealous of pope, man,” john b groans, his head falling onto the backrest of the couch. his body slumping as his eyes dart back to the two of you. “tell me about it.” jj agrees, readjusting himself under his shorts.

the words don’t even hit pope’s ears, he’s too focused on the tiny whimpers leaving your throat. his hands start to roam your body, barely aware that john b and jj are still in the room. his hand slides underneath your top, grabbing and massaging at your chest. swallowing the moans increasing in volume as he does.

the boys across the room look at each other, eyes widening in lust, heads falling back against the couch as the moan slips out from the kiss.

“do anythin’ to make her make them noises,” jj mumbles, eyes back on you. his hand moving onto his shorts, all but palming himself through the fabric as he adjusts again. john b notices, of course he does, but he’s too drunk and too fucking horny himself to scold jj for it.

pope’s lips start to trail down your neck, hands still groping at your chest. his lips no longer capturing the soft moans from your mouth. only making the other boys struggle in their seats even more.

your head tilts to the side, giving your boyfriend more access to the sweet skin of your neck. but only then do your eyes open, landing on the boys sat on the couch opposite you.

lip between your teeth as you smile oh too sweetly to john b and jj, and both boys can’t help the groan that escapes them both at your eyes on them.

"fuuuuck," they both drawl, both aching under their shorts at the sight of you. the way your jaw hangs open slightly, the innocent look in your eyes, how you haven't looked away from them.

they're both desperate for you, for their best friend's girlfriend. they're fucking done for.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

꒰ taglist ꒱ @khartalks @funkycoloured @bluestrd @appleaali @donteventry-itdude @gublerstylesobrien1238 @peachyparkerr @stanart4clearskin (to be added)

[b33wrldz]

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ concert photographer mood board

⤷ ❝she was a fairy❞

[iloveapples123456789]

⋆˚⊹ ⟡ ݁₊ . ⁽⁽𐦍⁾⁾.݁ ₊ ݁⟡ ⊹˚⋆

amy / apple

(a-mee)

the real life fairy

INTRO POST

𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆｡𖦹°‧

im amy and im super crazy cool!!!!! here is some important information you should know about me…….

𖦹 °✩ i love eveerybodyyyyy no matter who or what u are i love u and the fairies love u

𖦹 °✩ im a girl (but also a fairy)

𖦹 °✩ i love ethel cain, crystals, fairy lights, shopping and cheesecake

𖦹 °✩ i love bunnies and this blog is a safe space for insane women

most my photos are taken from Pinterest!

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🧚🏻₊˚ʚ 🪷 ₊˚ my beautiful friends: @daughterofcainnnn @julia-bonkers @daughterofthesea111 @milk-dahmer

[angelspearlheart]

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧𐦍 ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧𐦍 ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧𐦍

She was a fairy

[linoscatzz]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋₊˚ʚ ₊˚ ♡₊˚・₊✧𐦍 '*.𓍢ִ໋.*'

the fairies then sleeping ︵͡ ⁺ ᰍ̠ 🏹🌷 ׅ ۫ 요정

[wherenymphsroam]

LUUUUUNNNEEEEEE :333

Got me thinking about Leon/Chris!!!

I want them 😭😭😭

MANDA !!!!

(oh my goodness this is so late we r gonna … ignore that)

but YEAH M STILL THINKING ABT THEM.

been thinking specifically abt…. like cuck leon. he will never admit it out loud, but he loves loves loves sharing his baby. loves watching and tracking every facial expression, every twitch and jump, every reaction as you acclimate to someone new.

but chris specifically? he’s squirming.

and fuck if he knows why, but there is just something about watching chris pull you onto his lap, onto his cock that pulls a whine from leon. and chris notices, of course he does — how could he not, Leon’s got you held against his chest. it’s like he’s fucking leon by extension in this position.

“try not to sound so jealous,” chris mutters under his breath, a strained groan as his pelvis settles flush against your cunt. it was no wonder why leon could never shut his mouth about you, your cunt was heaven.

“what’s that s’posed to mean?” leon forces a scoff, glaring up at chris through his lashes. it was almost cute, seeing the conflict etched over leon’s features. that furrow in his brow that begs to convey his attempt at preserving his pride. it still wasn’t easy, being honest about how much he liked watching the older man split you open on his cock. but you knew, if leons bulge rutting into your back had anything to say about it.

“come on now…” the older man chuckles as he hoists your thighs wider, thick fingers splayed firmly over your soft skin. “it’s about time we’re honest, don’t you think?”

chris’s gaze meets leon’s just as he pulls your thighs wider, wider until he’s sliding his hands to hold the backs of your knees, and he pushes. Pressing down until your feet dangle in the air, until your knees make contact with your chest, chris gives leon the best damn seat in the house. like this, leon is practically forced into seeing just how thick chris is, how much you were stretched around him. how fucking wet you are, slick glistening over the insides of your thighs.

“how long has she wanted this? huh?” Chris mutters, eyes trained on you. he’s talking to leon, sure. but everyone knows his inquiry is a double edged sword. his hips draw back, painstakingly so, ensuring you feel every damn inch as he withdrawals.

“told me all about hwo pretty she is, how fuckin- good this cunt is-“

and right back in he goes, pelvis mushing against your cunt once more. it’s obscene, the sight of the action, the way your cunt so eagerly swallows him back up. leon forces a hard swallow, doing his damn best not to audibly gasp when you keen beneath chris.

“I find it interesting you conveniently left out the part… about how greedy she is,” chris groans then, head bobbing with the effort of not letting it drop. he’s tempted to rest his forehead down on your shoulder, his body is screaming for him to smother everything you are, envelope you whole. but for the sake of leons view of you, he holds back. the satisfaction of watching leon see how you responded to him far outweighed the pleasured of taking what he wants.

“so tell me,” chris continues, biting back a growl. his voice is strained, his entire body tense. like a predator toying with its food, dragging out its eventual undoing.

“was this.. really your idea? or do we have a greedy little slut on our hands?”

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