#fruity yet forbidden kisses....

[mihotose]

obviously im glad james somerton didnt make his disco elysium video but i also think its aftermath would have been extremely funny

[apostatehamster]

Me last week: Okay I got the last achievement for Disco Elysium. Guess that means I am done playing the game now :(

Disco Elysium: Hey, we’re releasing a free editor, where you can put your favorite characters together into scenes of your choice. Unleash your inner Art Cop!

Me:

Me: Oh shit, here we go again-

[cutiecusp]

Forbidden Fruit.

Ex husband! Simon Riley x reader.

A text shapes your life forever. You just don't know it yet.

TW: mentions of cheating/divorce. Smut. PnV, pining, edging, power play, dom!Simon. Probably the smuttiest I've ever written.

You text your ex on a night out. He picks you up on his motorbike, feelings, and more ensure.

You swipe on your phone, idly killing time. You were out with the girls, celebrating a birthday. You post a few snaps on social media, and flick your phone off, the glassy screen reflecting your make up you spent forever on.

Straightening up your dress, you signal to the barman for another fruity potion. You were about three deep, and the vibes were immense. You felt the weight on your shoulders, but you paid it no mind as your favourite songs thumped over the speakers.

Cocktail in hand, body moving under the fluorescent light you dance with the girls, your cares and worries begin to hide at the bottom of your glass.

Your lipstick stains the straw as you finish your drink, you saunter over to the bar on your heels as you sit back to your seat.

Your phone notifies you of a reply on your latest selfie, you take it out of your bag, frowning as you focus on the screen.

'Look good enough to eat, doll. 💀'

Simon... your ex-husband, who you could never quite cut out of your life with one of his signature comments. You type a reply.

'Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest 🍑'

You put your phone away and dance to a few more songs before heading to the bathroom. Reapplying your lipstick and fixing your hair, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You see the shadow before you hear him. The smell of cigarette smoke and the cologne you brought him for his birthday fill your senses.

'Think it's cute to tease me, sweetheart? What, not getting enough cock as a free woman?' Simon says gruffly in your ear, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, titling your head up to look in the mirror.

"How did you?-" You pause.

"The location of the club was on your photo, love. Didn't I teach you to be more careful?" He cuts you off with a rough kiss to the temple.

"Think you've had enough fun, anyway... text the girls, let them know I'm taking you home."

You can't find it in you to protest as he runs his hands down your sides. Simon was like a drug, addictive and powerful, and it was hard to get out of your system.

You take out your phone, and does what he says, before clasping your hand in his.

"One more night." You say, more to yourself than anything as he leads you out of the club.

His only response is a grunt as he takes off his long sleeve shirt and wraps it around your waist.

"No one sees you but me. Get on." He urges you onto his motorbike, clipping your old helmet on, securing the strap under you chin before pulling it so his face was close to yours.

"No more games, my mistake was signing those papers while I was deployed." He says softly.

"You want one more night with me?" He asks plainly, his onyx eyes dark with desire. You nod dumbly, mesmerised by his gaze on yours.

"Words, sweetheart. Tell. Me." He asks again.

"Y-yes, Simon. I want this." You stutter out. Your once sweet Simon had been completely taken over by *Ghost* his work alter ego who you'd heard so much about, but he never subjected you to until now.

He started the engine and lurched forward, forcing you to wrap your arms around his leather cut. Stifling a laugh, he sped off into the night.

Arriving at his flat, you set down on steady feet as you cross the road to his front door. You lean in to his shoulder, and allow him to escort you through the front door.

Your breathing heavy in your chest as you stop him from removing his helmet. You wanted the full fantasy.

"That's alright with me, love. You can look at your make up running down your pretty face in my visor as I ruin you." Simon smirks.

You blush as the effects of both his words and the fruity drinks take over your senses.

"Knees, love. Show me how much you want this." He commands, pushing your head down as you kneel in front of him.

"So pretty for me." He coos, as he steps between your parted knees.

"My boots need shining, you know what to do." His gruff voice sounds deeper through the helmet.

You look up at him, your reflection reflected in the carbon plastic, you poke your tongue out in a matter of mock defiance, before lowering yourself on his boot. Your sensitive core pressed against his laces as your rock your hips against the material, soaking your thin bikini bottoms. You let out a little whimper as the pressure feels so damn good against your needy folds.

"Good girl." Simon commends you, as he brushes your hair back from your face with his skeleton gloved hand.

You nod and rock your hips a little faster, chasing a high you know only he can give you.

"You feeling good, baby?" He asks, his hands in your hair.

With an affirming nod, you mumble out a thank you.

"Sorry, couldn't hear you. I know you could be louder than that."

"Yes, Si. Thank you... Feels good." You admit. You hate and love how he makes you feel. Your need bubbling up in your throat as you are ready to declare anything he wants, if he just lets you-

"Stop, love." He pulls your hair so you are looking up at his blank face, hidden by the helmet.

"When you come, I want it to be on my cock. Be a good girl and get it out for me." He strokes your jaw.

"Let's put this mouth to good use, eh?"

You fumble with his belt, eventually pulling it away and unzipping his jeans. You see his size, against the fabric and your mouth waters.

"Please. Si. Let me.." You beg, your eyes unable to look away as you take out his cock from his jeans.

Your mouth enclosed over the tip of his length, suckling and rolling your tongue over the sensitive flesh. You feel smug as you hear him hiss, pulling on your hair as he bucks his hips against your mouth.

"Fuck, love. I forgot how good you feel around my cock" He says, looking down at your face, your make up beginning to run down your cheeks as they hollowed in and out, as if you were putting on a show for him.

You let out an amused huff as you take him deeper, rocking your hips against his boot slowly as your mouth takes him to heaven and back.

Eventually, he pushes you down to the floor, off his boot. You moan at the lack of pressure against your clit

"Get on the bed." He orders, his body betraying his cool exterior.

"On your bloody knees, ass up for me."

You scramble on the bed, your legs jellified as you assume the position he requested.

"Gonna make you feel good, baby. You want that?" You nod, anticipation running through your body in waves.

You feel a sharp sting on your ass as he brings down his gloved hand on your flesh, wet with his own arousal.

"Words. Sweetheart." He repeats, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes, Simon. Make me feel good." You give him your permission, as he pushes your dress over your hips, tugging your bottoms down, exposing your wet folds to the air.

"Such a pretty pussy, love. She's been neglected, hasnt she?" He asks, running a finger through your sensitive flesh.

You mumble a yes, when another slap hits your ass.

"Louder, love. Hasnt she?"

"Yes. Si!" You agree, tears in your eyes at the sting of his hand on your sore skin.

"And I'm the only one that can make her feel better, isn't that right love?" He presses, his finger breaching your walls.

You rock your hips against his hand, almost chanting his name at this point, anything to relieve the pressure building in your lower stomach.

"Y-yes, only you." You slur, completely drink on emotions.

"No one like you, Si." You admit, as he pulls away from you.

"You want this?" Simon asks one last time.

You wanted to tear your own hair out. You were desperate for him to fill you up, make the ache go away for a little while, why was he hesitating?

"Fuck yes. Please, Si, please." You beg, looking into his helmet, your face wet with tears, your make up tracing lines down your face, your lipstick on your chin. To you, you've never looked messier, but to him, you've never looked more beautiful.

He lines up his hips with yours, pressing his length home, sheathing himself in your warmth. You both let out a hiss, as pleasure caresses your spine, and fleets over your body in waves.

You feel his gloved hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back onto his cock.

"You like rough, sweetheart?" He asks through clenched teeth as his hips snap into yours, knocking the breath out of you with every thrust.

You barely manage to get out a reply as he picks up the pace, pushing your head into the pillow as he pounds into you from behind.

Your moans drown out his as he hits your spot over and over again.

"Keep making those noises for me baby." He urges as you feel the wave of an orgasm approaching.

He stifles a groan as you clench around him, your walls suffocating his cock as he feels you getting close.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" He taunts, as his pace is hard against your body.

Your eyes close tight as it hits you, a white flash behind your eyes as you reach your climax, your pussy tight around him as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you, your toes curling in pleasure.

"Too much.." You gasp, trying to come down from the high.

"You have one more for me. Don't you?" He reaches over your hip and teases his hand over your puffy clit.

"Wanna come with you, baby." He insists, as you feel another orgasm rip through you, and you feel Simon stiffen, as you feel his spend inside you.

He rips off the helmet and pulls you down onto the bed, onto the bed. He removes his gloves with his teeth, and collects a little of your arousal on his fingers and licks them clean.

"You were right. It does taste sweeter."

A/N thank you all so much! This was a labour of love, totally wrote it at the bus stop, hoping no one would read over my shoulder. It's not been proof read, but I kinda love how bossy he is here.

@misshugs @frudoo @thevoiceinyourheadx @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @yesornowaitidontknow @shadowdark00

[dykells]

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐀.𝐀

𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ she hopes im cursed forever to sleep on a twin sized mattress never graduating up in size to add another 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,1k ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: religion, homophobia n’ nsfw content

abby feels owen’s hand on her waist like a brick to her chest weighting her body down, it wouldn’t take much for the drowning to begin but your face across the room was both oxygen and the final anchor of her demise. she weighed her options as their personifications stood before her, father smiling brightly at the happy couple unaware his own daughter forced her chirpiness while she yearned in the deepest aching to be swept off her feet by the girl just a few away– who now refused to face her much understandably. you cursed her for inviting you to their preppy engagement party, cursed her for multiple reasons more, yet your heels stuck to the ground like they clung for dear life anticipating a plot twist shaped by regret.

“excuse me” she finally croaked out mid conversation, the place where her fiancé’s hand once held onto now burning her skin like a rotting poison. she wished to bathe herself clean in the rain like a baptism, wished owen didn’t felt like sin tainting her body from being with you, her holiest of experiences, wished she had not known heaven between your legs so she may live on her life guiltless and not as someone who has felt blasphemously like a god herself. your fingers brush past eachother as she walks up behind you and fireworks bloom from your fingertips like lily flowers at spring. lillies, her favorite, your perfume.

you follow her to the bathroom, breath unsteady, and regardless of how long the affair has been happening no familiarity prepares you for the crash of her lips against yours as you twist the doorknob. sometimes you think these moments might make you understand her, to have abby anderson’s tongue exploring your mouth, hands by your neck to keep you still, perpetual apple cinnamon smell, was nothing short of a religious experience. perhaps that is what the church brought out in her, this same inextinguishable fire at the pit of your stomach with understanding of icarus and his hope for the sun. if all sins felt this sweet it did not seem so big of a sacrifice to die for them– you’d die for her if asked.

“abs, stop” you whisper once her lips are on your neck, long wet kisses all across the exposed skin warming up your body from the winter cold better than any cloth could have, she’s hungry, biting you down and her fruity scent doesn’t let the irony of forbidden fruit to die on you even as she hums in fake confusion allowing herself more time in her feast begging it to cloud your judgement as it almost does “abigail, we have to stop”

“don’t do this to me” she begs, voice cracking “please don’t leave me, you’ll take all the sunshine with you and it’s cold, it’s a cold winter i need your arms, your limbs, your body, my sunny girl-“

“you’re getting married, abs” you sigh with the exclamation, it seems nearly as though you’ve just reminded her of it like someone who forgot to turn off the oven before they had left the house, someone destined for burnt flames, your reality scares her into kneeling submission and you’re laughing because it looks like a proposal and it’s absurd, her hands gripping yours, her gaze doe-eyed and unconditional. you are missing a ring but you see hers, diamond, and the ache doesn’t easen.

“you are everything that i want…”

“then leave him, abby. don’t sit on the dirty bathroom floor of a venue for your engagement party and promise me a love you are too scared to give me, i can’t keep excusing your cowardice for the sake of sanity. take off that ring and walk out of here with me, we’ll figure it out, we’ll be happy together, your winter won’t be cold”

she pretends to take in your words, analyse them as if her nights haven’t been filled with scenarions and possibilities all of which there is pain unbearable. you’re searching her eyes with a hope unbeknownst to men and suddenly you feel the line between dream and desperation blurring itself into oblivion. abby lets go of your touch and slides the ring from her finger out onto it’s demise on the tiled floor. you think you won. you think god exists when she locks the door behind you and presses you against the wall, believe he had heard your prayers once her fingers dip between your thighs. when she’s thrusting inside you, you cry out for god instead of her name, moan louder at the sight of her wedding band far away on the ground, feel your walls clenching around her digits and her warm breath against your neck, she’s mumbling so many i love yous you barely notice how multiple sound like im sorrys.

with your hands curling around her loose hair she gets sloppy, deprived, wants you to tug on her and beg for her mouth without needing the plead to taste you and you do so eager it burns her scalp. she’s back on her knees and she thinks for a moment not admited this might be her holy repent. tugging on your jeans till their ultimate glide towards the floor, shes sucking on the wet patch of your underwear as a tease, letting her senses flood of lillies and pussy. she finally pushes it aside and dives in, godhood in the shape of your swollen clit grazing her teeth, you tilt your waist to give her further access and there are stars and angels behind your fluttered eyelids.

she calls your her sunny girl as you rain down her face in white honey, her muscles spread your legs further apart and suck it in till it has destroyed her makeup, part of her wishes to leave this bathroom and still smell of you, part of her is scared owen might kiss your heavens from her tongue and catch it all. she’s putting her ring back on at your climax, and you’re confused and heavy breathing. a sob clings to your throat.

abby tells you all she’s ever known is the cold. tells you girls like her are unworthy of the sun. tells you owen is waiting and maybe you should leave. she doesn’t tell you she thinks god isn’t real once you’ve turned your back because he would never have created something to purely magnetic to have it ripped from her hands, she does not tell you the only thing worth worshipping is the gap between your teeth, the crook of your neck and the dimple in your cheek, doesn’t tell you she thinks hell is this. but she almost does. she almost does. on your way out, you just sob and hope she’s cursed. hope god is angry. think god is her.

© dykells twentytwentythree

[thosemintcookies]

I'm still mulling over "fruity yet forbidden kisses" because like this is a world of people who like. Have gay sex? Like it's made explicitly clear that some of these people have gay sex and its not really forbidden even if machismo and heteronormativity do exist. Like the game itself is alluring to gay people because it accepts our existence as like. Normal.

The allure to gay romance isn't always the voyeuristic angsty corny romance about forbidden love and self discovery or whatever. They're adults. Other than Harry, who has amnesia, queer adults in this narrative know they're queer and aren't bothered by it. I think it really does highlight how out of touch these guys are with the fandom because people aren't looking at DE like that.

Like it's just really refreshing that the game took people seriously. There's fat people, disabled people, gender non-conforming people, old people, people who are wrinkly and saggy and balding who are all depicted as worthy of sexual consideration and even domestic romance. So the game just gives you like a genuinely diverse cast of people and gives them sexual agency, while also being realistic about how difficult intimacy is. Of course people will want to explore intimacy, sex, and romance. These are explicit themes of the game. Loneliness in particular is one of the Big Central Themes.

So it's really fucking insulting to turn this world in which queerness is inserted with so much care and acceptance into something marketable by playing into popular and sanitized versions of queer experience. Idk. Feels fucked

[ghostsontelevision]

“potentially written by a queer person” oh so we’re MAKING UP a queer to defend the corporations now? we’re INVENTING a queer person to make homophobia okay now?

like okay let’s assume it was in fact a Queer who wrote the “fruity yet forbidden” line. that still does not change the fact that a corporation - a thing that has no identity or purpose outside of making money - used that ad copy in order to advertise their game. as you pointed out, disco elysium does  contain the word faggot - would it be okay if the ad copy had said “use this to make faggots kiss”?

the usage of slurs in the game - which goes beyond just homophobic slurs, btw - is purposeful. it is meant to tell you something about the world, the people, and the themes. it is being used artistically. what is the artistic value of advertising a dollhouse mode as “fruity yet forbidden”? how does that interact with disco elysium as a story, as a piece of art? does it say anything more than “we wouldn’t let you kiss kim in the game, but we’ll give you permission now ;)” as if fans needed that permission in the first place? as if THE WRITING IN THE GAME is not the reason these “fruity” kisses were “forbidden” in the first place?

yes, disco elysium is a commercial product meant to make money. this is the unfortunate reality that artists live in, that it is very difficult to make non-commercial art and still make a living. but from that perspective, isn’t it *worse* that they would use the word “fruity” to ADVERTISE a game? isn’t it worse to use slurs for PROFIT?????

[zevranunderstander]

btw anyone who owns disco elysium can go to steam, click on the news about the collage-update and dislike it, dislike ALL of their other news updates, and leave a comment expressing your thoughts about it! call them homophobic for the "fruity yet forbidden kisses" sentence, call them capitalist pigs who are cashing in on something that shouldnt belong to them, etc. just review bomb them for this bullshit

[sydmarch]

holy shit it IS real I truly am so evrartpilled that my eyes skipped right past "fruity yet forbidden kisses". I really did not actually read any of that update huh. I actually hate that so fucking much fuck whoever wrote that

[leatherdyketerror]

also the use of the phrase "fruity yet forbidden kisses" in the description for the collage mode of disco elysium makes me want to gag actually. i cant explain it but it just feels so disgusting

[klapollo]

one of them will get cute saying something like "fruity" - the disco elysium publishers did this for its latest patch this month. it was A Thing because they dropped a collage mode in which you can play with the disco elysium characters like little dolls and pose them around in little scenes. the exact quote by the publishers was "fruity yet forbidden kisses" in reference to everybody likely using this to make harry and kim do kissys

OH YEAH I FORGOT ABOUT THAT..............especially wild considering they were embroiled in controversy to begin with.

[pointless-yearning]

The sweet smell of fruity perfume; gold earrings dangling from blushed ears; books scattered across the tables; inked words and drawn portraits; wine-stained, once-white ball gowns; warm, delicate tears falling down red-tinted cheeks; love laced in both her heartbeat and her bloodflow; the forbidden urge to kiss another; cracked candlewax littering the wooden floor; a rose sitting in two small hands; tired eyes; and an excited yet fragile smile on tea-stained lips.

[gaarasgoddess]

Welcome to Suna - Part 6

Welcome to Suna. Where the lights never die and the fun never  stops. Sakura and Ino lie to their parents to spend a wild weekend in a  forbidden city. Will they regret it? Or will they both find something  worth coming for?Main pairing is GaaraxSakura and side  InoxKankuro.[Listening to 1989 album by Taylor Swift.]

Chapter summary: Sakura is too tempting for Gaara. And a picnic has surprise visitors. [this story will be unpredictably erotic from now on: warning]

[Please read previous parts first. part 1 and part 2 and part 3. And part 4. And part 5.]

.x.

Gaara woke quickly after Sakura got bored waiting for him. The cold air hit her and she was going to slide under the covers but she really need to use the bathroom. She really needed to pee. He saw her rush into the room and she felt self-conscious in the bathroom, trying not to make much noise. She’d picked up the bathrobe he had slipped off her before they’d ... done that, and finished up quickly before heading back into the bedroom.

He's still naked.

She blushed heavily, watching him cleaning himself of residue from their activities, her eyes unable to not rake over his body. When her eyes met his she froze and then looked away quickly, ashamed of how embarrassed she was.

“You can look,” he said huskily and Sakura nodded, slowly turning her head to look again.

He’s a smug bastard.

His smirk was almost as brash as his nakedness. He finished cleaning himself and walked to her slowly, so clearly turned on by how she now openly perused his body. She saw his dick twitch and felt a similar stirring in her nether region.

“As much as I’d love to fuck you again,” he cupped her face and kissed her lips softly. “I have a promise to keep.”

She was confused and it showed. “Promise?” She licked her lips wishing he would kiss her again.

Gaara obliged and Sakura wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. His skin felt hot as he attacked her mouth. The gentle nibbling turned into a fight for dominance as they wrestled each other’s tongue, moaning and grinding.

Sakura’s hand slipped down from his waist and ran over his butt brazenly. When he didn’t complain she boldly fingered his muscled six pack before slipping her hand to lightly grasp his dick. He gasped.

“You’re a vixen.” Gaara kissed her fiercely for a few seconds as she pumped him. Then he maneuvered her up against the wall next to his bed. “But two can play at that game.”

He didn’t bother grabbing another condom, slipping his cock between her folds but not inside her. He gripped her hips to stop her from sliding him in and kissed her confusion away, now thrusting but not entering her. Sakura groaned, moving her hips with his as he fucked her thigh gap instead of her pussy.

“God Gaara!”

“Yes!”

The friction was burning but she didn’t care. Sakura threw her head back, screaming his name as she came so hard. He chuckled and lavished her neck as he satiated his own desire, then pulled away before he could cum on her. She groaned, struggling to stand upright as Gaara stroked himself. She didn’t know or care why he hadn’t fucked her wholly. She was happy. A smile plastered to her face as he chuckled and grabbed a towel to clean her up.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

"Come on,” he kissed her forehead.

“What now?”

“Ready to continue that tour I promised you?” He asked, throwing on a pair of jeans and polo shirt. He looked really good whether he was wearing clothes or not.

Not sure what else to do, Sakura nodded.

“I should be able to find something better for you to wear,” he said, then waggled his eyebrows. “Not that I’m complaining about the view.”

She hugged the robe to her body more tightly. Gaara wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. He was so affectionate she still couldn’t believe it was real. This weekend was shaping up to be the best ever. The only problem would be leaving him behind.

Sakura pushed away those morose thoughts. She just wasn’t used to this and needed to keep her heart out of it. She liked boys way too easily when they didn’t give her the time of day, let alone actually wanted her. She was a sucker for a pretty face.

Gaara rummaged through his closet but didn’t find anything. "Hang on, I’ll be back.”

She waited for him by checking her phone, thinking maybe Ino would text or call. It was already ten o’clock and Sakura was surprised she’d slept for so long. She thought of sending Ino a text and decided not to. Then changed her mind thinking it would be best to be safe. But before she’d finished tapping the letters, Gaara returned. She tossed her phone back in her purse, now forgotten as Gaara strode back into the room.

He couldn’t resist feeling her up as she dressed, not a moment of peace as Gaara had decided there was no need for either of them to be shy around each other naked anymore. But he didn’t take it too far since he had other plans for the rest of their morning.

“Let’s go, love.”

Sakura fumbled with her purse and followed Gaara out of the room.

.x.

“Are your parents home?”

Gaara nodded and tugged on her hand when this admission made her pause. “They’re working so we won’t be bothered. And we have this entire wing to ourselves. Come on.”

His family estate was larger than she’d thought. They moved through the hallways and into a few of the rooms as Gaara gave her the tour. The gaming room was larger than her whole living room and bedroom back home. She had never played pool before and didn’t play gaming consoles so she just hummed and smiled along with him. He had a jukebox too and admitted he loved this kind of stuff. His television took up most of the wall and the entertainment room could host every teenager in her year back home, easily.

She wondered if he ever had parties here.

A few more rooms later, he was summoning a servant and Sakura flushed at their subtle surprise to her presence. Did this mean Gaara didn’t normally bring girls home like this? It made her feel special.

“We’re heading out to the gardens,” he told the servant. “We’ll need brunch and a picnic blanket. Be sure to pack some honey.”

He ushered the servant away and Sakura was awed and impressed.

“My lady,” he said offering his arm and smirking at her.

“Thank you.” Sakura accepted his arm and allowed him to lead her outside into the bright sun. She giggled.

“Find that funny, huh?”

She just smiled. He took them to a stone path that wound through the gardens in this section of his home. She loved the flowers and bushes and sounds of birds, looking this way and that. Gaara kept her from stopping too long, wanting to get to the designated spot sometime today.

The path opened up to a grassy area with a fountain and Sakura was struck yet again by how rich Gaara’s family was. She could never compete with this.

Stop those thoughts.

She inhaled deeply to calm herself and returned his kisses when Gaara started nipping at her bottom lip, asking for entrance. They stood there, just enjoying each other before a servant arrived with the things Gaara had requested. A picnic basket, a bottle of what looked like a fruity cocktail and two glasses, and a blanket. They set it all up then bowed and left them alone.

“Is that alcohol?”

“Yes but go easy, love.”

Sakura scoffed at him then sat on the blanket as he followed and joined her. “I’m not getting drunk in the middle of the day.”

“Whatever you say.” He leaned over and kissed her softly before turning to open the basket to unload it.

Onigiri rice balls, egg sandwiches, a Karaage Bento, Wanpaku Sandwich and a squeeze bottle of honey; Sakura dug in. But Gaara put the honey aside.

“That’s for later,” he promised.

“So tell me...”

Gaara pressed a finger to her lips and she took the hint, falling silent as they ate. She didn’t realise how hungry she was and didn’t pay attention to anything but the food prepared for them. Gaara poured their drinks and held hers out to her when she was part way finished. She devoured it, rolling her eyes at him when he chuckled.

“Hungry?”

“You have no idea.”

“Oh I think I do.”

He gave her a hungry look and took the sandwich from her hand without breaking eye contact. He kissed her, hard and painfully, his hand sneaking up to pinch her nipple. She moaned just as her phone vibrated loudly, startling them and causing them to break apart.

Sakura swallowed thickly and dug into her purse to quickly pull it out. It was a text from Ino. She groaned as Gaara pulled bodily away from her.

‘Where R U 4head?‘

She glanced at Gaara, who was now unscrewing the cap on the honey bottle, then typed back 'Busy. wtf you want?’.

‘Bitchy. R U with that redhead?’

‘Yeah.’

‘U okay?’

‘Fine. Will C U later.’

‘Later, tater.’

Sakura shoved the phone back in her bag. “Sorry.”

Gaara just shrugged and shifted to sit next to her. “Lie back.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment then sighed when he just raised an eyebrow at her and did as he instructed. Gaara ran a hand over her covered breasts, his finger circling where he could feel her nipple.

“May I?”

She nodded knowing what he was about to do.

Gaara undid the buttons on the shirt he’d given her, stopping half-way down her torso, and pushed the fabric aside to expose her breasts to the warm air. He paused for a moment, leant down to suckled at one nipple before slathering the honey along both of her tits, rubbing it into her skin like he was massaging. Sakura moaned, closing her eyes and sighing with contentment.

A moment later she felt his mouth encase her left nipple and she grasped his hair knowing he loved that. He licked his way along her skin, worshipping her as he went, suckling at the honey and moving to hover over her for better access.

After a few minutes, he started on undoing the rest of her buttons, sitting up to do so. Two voices interrupted them at the same time, making GaaSaku freeze.

“Gaara?”

“Sakura?”

When they realised what they were interrupted doing, Gaara and Sakura snapped up and she was too stunned to cover up. Gaara hastily moved her shirt to cover her breasts and she blushed, turning away to do up the buttons.

“Kankuro,” Gaara growled.

“Well, well.” Ino whistled. “Looks like we interrupted something.”

“Ino-pig,” Sakura snarled. “Ever heard of decorum?”

“Is it that new sex toy that--”

“Shut up.”

Kankuro laughed as the girls stared at each other. “Well if no-one else is going to say it, I have to: Sakura has a great pair of tits.”

Ino smacked him over the back of his head.

.x.

[dangertoozmanykids101]

Tooz's Spring Challenge:

*2020 KISSING STUDY*

My challenge is a study in kissing. Choose an adverb or adjective as the title to describe a kiss that maybe you've never WRITTEN or DRAWN before. Please tag me and message me directly with a heads up. I would be devastated if I missed it.

Below I have a bunch of suggestions, but if you have a different word or phrase that speaks to you as inspiration, RUN WITH IT!!!! Plus, if you have more suggestions to add to the list, let me know and I'll add them to the original post.

For inspiration, here is the 2014 New York Times Annual Video Essay.

"In an essay for the magazine A.O. Scott writes about the history and importance of the movie kiss. “Cinema may not have invented kissing, but I suspect that over the course of the 20th century, movies helped make it more essential,” he writes. “What is undeniable is that movies — Hollywood movies especially, but far from exclusively — made kissing more visible. They established a glamorous iconography and an elegant choreography for an experience that, in real life, is frequently sloppy, clumsy and less than perfectly graceful.” The videos also serve to prove that thesis."

Quoted from Esther Zuckerman's article in Entertainment Magazine, December 10, 2014

Fluffy, Smutty, NSFW, Steamy, Awkward, Sloppy, Chaste, Fake, Deep, Teasing, Forbidden, Venomous, Lethal, Clumsy, Painful, First, Last, Love's True Kiss, Formal, Stolen, Intimidating, Humiliating, Disgusting, Tasty, Breathtaking, Stunning, Unexpected, Disappointing, Graceful, Deadly, Undead, Life Changing, Phantom, Hallucinated, Delusional, Manipulating, Coercive, Denied, Confessional, Platonic, Sexy, Stage Kiss, Pretend, 7 Minutes In Heaven, Spin the Bottle, Drinking Game, Truth or Dare, Kissing Booth, Blindfolded, Masked, Kissing Bandit, Blind Date, Kiss of Death, Kiss of Life, Resuscitating, Obligated, Imagined, Confusing, Wedding, Betraying, Orgasmic, Swoon Worthy, Dizzying, Boring, Regretted, Death's Seal, Fruity, Sticky, Slimy, Scratchy, Dry, Violent, Consensual, Non-consensual, Surprising, Dubiously Consensual, Inhuman, Godly, Animalistic, Bloody, Scary, Loving, Tender, Sensual, Stiff, Loveless, Reverent, Anonymous, Secretive, Sealing the Deal....

I can continue adding to this list. It's just a boatload of descriptors that popped into my head, definitely not all-inclusive. I haven't even broken out a thesaurus yet!

Artwork works too!!! I would be THRILLED to have art entries!!!! I bet everyone would be thrilled with art! How exciting if you did fanart specifically of someone's kiss story. Or vice versa! If someone wrote about your kiss artwork!!!

ANYONE CAN SUBMIT AND JOIN IN!

NO RULES! (Although please tag it /preface it with appropriate warnings so readers can be responsible readers. And if explicit or not safely for work, under 18 need to stay away.)

It's not a contest. It a challenge, a creative prompt. No time line. :-) This is all just for fun! I'm going to try to pop out some drabbles or short one shots to challenge myself too.

I'm tagging a few people off the top of my head who are easily accessed via my predictive auto correct to boost the signal and coax some friends to join. And the Tumblr app only allows so many tags. Spread the word please. I am dying to read and view what everyone comes up with!!!

ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE!

@messy-insomniac-bookgirl @lokis-library-for-fanfiction @lokispettigerr @ohhhmyloki @latent-thoughts @the-haven-of-fiction @bambamwolf87 @archy3001 @caffiend-queen @devilish--doll @emeraldrosequartz @omgviolette12 @wrathkitty @realityhelixwrites @mastreworld @maniploki @boredbrooder @maevecurrywrites @devikafernando @nuggsmum @tinchentitri @pedeka @reine-sigyn @saiansha @wolfsmom1 @nildespirandum @dianamolloy @theluckykittencalvin @thewidowlaufeyson @theheartofpenelope @hallotom @finney13s @gingerwritess @ladyfluff @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @myoxisbroken @kalimav6 @annievvv7

@scorpionchild81 @vodka-and-some-sass @villainousshakespeare @lokilickedme @nonsensicalobsessions @imanuglywombat @cursedcursingviking @coppercorn-and-cauldron @latestarter58 @lolawashere @jennphoenix

@redfoxwritesstuff @winterisakiller @missinstantgratification @maiden-of-asgard @icybluepenguin @hopelessromanticspoonie @mischievousbellerina @odinsonsobsessed @missdibley @oeffsee

Sorry. I can't do a "keep reading" break on the phone app.

[maudus1]

I’m a little late but... maybe it’s still day one somewhere lol!

14 Days of DA Lovers   -   Read my series on AO3!

Day 1: Rose

Pairing: Dorian Pavus/m!Lavellan

Say You Will

          It was the scent that caught his attention first. Floral, yet almost fruity, with delicate undertones of wine, plums and berries, a hint of damask and freshly cut grass. It wafted through the rotunda door as he opened it, rolling over him like a lover’s sweet caress.

          Then, petals – a scattered few at his feet, a blend of scarlet and deep, dark pink. He took another step. More petals, a trail of them, leading past Solas’s desk and toward the stairs.

          “What in Thedas…” Dorian mused. Another prank of Sera’s, surely. Making a mess of the place, as usual.

          He shook his head and made his way up the stairs. Followed the red strewn across the cold, grey stone and the ever-strengthening aroma. What a pain this would be to clean! Although the smell was a marked, and not altogether unpleasant, improvement upon the usual bouquet of dust layering the castle’s adornments. Not to mention that of Leliana’s filthy feathered companions occupying the floor above his usual haunt.

          As he climbed to the top of the stairs beside the library, the din of hushed whispers reached his ears. The sort he knew all too well. Conspiratorial. The whispers of gossip and giddiness poorly contained, of those who cared not for actually being heard but feigned the pretense for the notion of decency. It was a common sound in the halls of Tevinter palaces, among the parties held by families of status, especially as the one being spoken of entered the room.

          Dorian had long been that person. He’d grown to both hate and enjoy it, being the center of such attention. Scoffed at their ridicule, at their prattling and curious glances. But to find himself in the midst of it here, of all places? It chafed immediately. He was tempted to turn around and flee. But not he, not here, not ever. Dorian never ran. He faced it all with a smile.

          And so he did; he smiled. Straightened his spine, rounded his shoulders and stepped forward into the dimly lit circular balcony to find- 

          Roses. Roses, everywhere. 

          Petals sprinkled about the floor in and around the library, and stemmed flowers in vases, empty glass bottles, really whatever item that could hold them it seemed, placed neatly upon every table within the cramped vestibule.

          A giggle from somewhere on the opposite side reached his ears. And from another voice, a soft, longing sigh. Not… not the sounds he had expected. No outright burst of laughter, not from his fellow occupants or the raucous, boisterous guffawing of the blonde rogue he thought was the responsible culprit.

          “Dorian,” came the deep, slightly husky voice he knew so well. He turned around.

          And there stood Da’riel, leaning seductively against the wall in a familiar pose. Ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest, as he stood in wait. One hand holding another rose as he tenderly waved it beneath his straight, prominent nose. Those lips Dorian had come to cherish curved into a lopsided smile, the plump lower one bisected by elegant black vallaslin winding down his chin and neck toward a pale, sculpted chest to meet many more such markings. Ones he knew the pattern of by heart, though currently concealed by the cream linen shirt tucked into tight black leather encasing his strong, muscular legs.

          Maker, the elf was glorious even when clothed! And Dorian wanted nothing more in this moment than to remove every offending piece as Da’riel pushed off the wall and sauntered toward him.

          “Da’riel, what are… what is this?”

          “This”–he waved a long, slender hand–“Is for you, vhenan.”

          Dorian blanched. That word – he recognized it. Da’riel called everyone “love”, and infuriatingly often, but he’d never heard him use a Dalish endearment besides the special pet name he had for his sister. This… was this real? Perhaps he’d dozed off, and been caught by a demon of Desire within the Fade.

           “I do believe you’ve gotten lost on your way to the garden,” he laughed, assuming an affect of nonchalance. 

          Smirking, he shrugged one shoulder at the silver-haired elf and turned back to the library. He walked toward the plush velvet chair he usually occupied during long afternoons of sifting through Skyhold’s limited and ancient collection and casually picked up a book from the table there. Tried to ignore the littered roses beside it. Casually flipped a few pages and pretended to scan the text.

           A whisper of a touch, gentle and petal-soft, caressed the exposed part of his arm as the elf came up behind him. “I’m not lost, love. I am exactly where I want to be. With you,” he whispered, breath hot against his ear.

           Before he knew what was happening, Da’riel spun him around. The book landed with a thud on the stone at his feet, along with the rose the elf had been carrying. They were face to face, only inches apart. In front of everyone present.

          “What–” he gasped.

          “Dorian…” Da’riel said, voice carrying across the rotunda. “I am trying to show you that what we have… it’s more. More than I’ve ever known. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. This is... real.”

          Heart pounding in his chest, eyes beginning to water, he whispered, “What do you mean, real?”

          “I love you, Dorian. I am yours, if you’ll have me.”

          His breath hitched in his throat as his heart filled, near to bursting, with a swelling of emotion that rocked him to his core. In Tevinter, such relationships were forbidden. Many enjoyed the occasional dalliance, but love? Never! And yet... the sincerity in those pale green eyes – there was no denying it. He meant every word, damn him!

          He glanced behind the elf to see a score of people waiting with bated breath, lining the railing that wrapped around the balcony. Elaria stood there, dead center, on the opposite side, clutching her breast with a smile like he’d never seen before. Behind her, Cullen; cheeks flushed but a beaming grin on his lips. And beside them, all of their companions and friends. He hadn’t even noticed them before!

          Da’riel’s fingers stroked the line of Dorian’s jaw, turning his attention away from the crowd.

          “Will you?” the elf whispered, the ghost of doubt crossing his handsome face.

          With that, Dorian grabbed him. Pressed his lips to Da’riel’s in a kiss full of passion and desperation and desire.

          Drowning in the cacophony of clapping and cheers, and the drunken haze of something far more potent than mere lust, he wrapped his arms around Da’riel’s shoulders and vowed to never let go.

           When they finally parted, each of them panting and flushed, still caught within their impassioned embrace, Da’riel grinned.

           “Does that mean–”

          “Yes, you ridiculous man!” Dorian laughed, glowing inside and out. “I love you too, amatus. And I will have you…” he lowered his voice, “In my room. Immediately.”

[junghelioseok]

5 15 and 16 with tae please 🥺

so, uhhh, this went in a kind of unexpected direction, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! 

❛❛ shut up and kiss me already. ❜❜

❛❛ you aren’t alone. you’ve never been alone. ❜❜

❛❛ why are you staring at me? ❜❜

You meet Kim Taehyung for the first time at the ripe young age of seven, when you fell off your bike and scraped your knee across the hard concrete sidewalk. Two feet appeared before you like magic, and through your tears, you followed them up until you met honey brown eyes set in a kind face, lips pulled up into a genial smile.

“Come now, {Name},” he’d said, offering you a hand. “Chin up—there’s no need for any more tears.”

Warmth floods through you, golden like sunshine. And though your knee still stings, you collect yourself and wipe your eyes, accepting his proffered hand and standing up. “Thanks, mister,” you say, looking up at him shyly.

“I’m Kim Taehyung,” is his response. “But you can call me Tae, if you’d like.”

He’s gone before you can even think to question how exactly he knew your name, but you didn’t have to wait long to see him again. Taehyung shows up time and time again, comforting you when you have bumps and bruises, and pulling you out in the face of any imminent danger.

You aren’t alone, he tells you one sunny afternoon, tearing open a bandaid and applying it carefully to a papercut on your index finger. You’ve never been alone. I’m your guardian angel, and I’ll always be here for you.

And he stays true to his word. Years pass, and you find yourself in college, one semester away from graduation. Final exams have wrapped up, and your friends have convinced you to join them at one of the local clubs for a celebratory night out, dancing and drinking the stress away. Jimin’s already ordered a second round of shots for the group, and you wince at the burn of liquor as it goes down.

“Having fun yet?” he asks, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You grin. “Get me another drink, and then we’ll talk.”

Jimin lets out a delighted giggle and trots off toward the bar. Mere minutes later, he returns with a colorful concoction that he eagerly presses into your hands. It’s fruity and sweet in the best way, and you quickly polish it off before hitting the dance floor with him.

Immediately, you know you’ve had a little too much to drink. Colors and sounds whirl around you in a blur, and you quickly lose Jimin in the throng of dancing bodies. Your head spins, and you gasp when someone jostles into you, spilling the icy dregs of their drink onto your blouse. “Hey!”

Your cry goes unheard, swallowed up by the thumping music. Another person bumps into you from behind, and the impact is hard enough to nearly send you sprawling to the floor. Someone clutches at your hips, and you’re pretty sure you feel another hand graze your ass. Frantic, you glance around for an opening—any sort of escape from the wandering hands and overwhelming crowd—but you cannot find one. Your shirt is wet and your head is pounding, and you can no longer repress the rising panic in your throat.

And then a hand grabs onto yours—the warm pressure firm yet gentle. Whipping around, you find yourself staring up into Taehyung’s familiar face, his eyes aflame with something you’ve never seen before. 

Fear—and touch of anger.

“T-Tae,” you stammer, gaze flickering down to his hand before darting back up to his face again. “Why… why are you staring at me like that?”

Taehyung releases a long, low breath. “You fool,” he breathes, and you’re so finely attuned to his voice that you hear him perfectly despite the music. “You foolish, foolish girl. Why do you insist on making my job so difficult?”

You can’t find the words to answer him, so he turns and begins pulling you through the throng of people. Within the span of thirty seconds, he’s led you out the back door and into the wintry air outside, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the loud club. It’s beginning to snow, you notice, and each icy flake that lands on your skin sobers you up a little bit more. You’re standing in a narrow little alley behind the club, brick walls on both sides and a dumpster a little ways away. You should be absolutely freezing like this, without your coat or even a scarf, but when you glance back at Taehyung, the residual anger still lining his face is more than enough to send a flush of embarrassed warmth through your veins. 

“Why must you put yourself in danger like that?” he asks, taking both of your hands in his own. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? If you’d continued drinking—if you’d gotten cornered by one of those men—” His voice cracks a bit on the last syllable, and your eyes widen when you realize just how panicked he’d been.

“Tae, it’s okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands. “Nothing happened, and I’m fine.”

“You couldn’t sense their intentions,” he breathes, shaking his head. “I could feel them—what they wanted from you, and what they were willing to do to get it. I mean, goodness, you humans are constantly on the cusp of making a massive, deadly mistake, and none of you even seem to realize it. And I just—I couldn’t bear it if…”

You blink. “If what?”

Taehyung releases your hands and instead comes up to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb along the soft skin. “If I lost you,” he whispers. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

The snow is falling faster now—fat white flakes flurrying down from the dark night sky. But there’s something else too, and your jaw drops when you realize what they are. 

They’re feathers.

Soft white feathers, floating down and coalescing around Taehyung’s body until he’s standing before you with fully formed wings. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him in his true angel form, and you’re left in complete awe at the sight, rendered breathless and voiceless all at once. Taehyung has always been handsome, though you admittedly hadn’t started appreciating his looks until later in life. 

But now, with pure white wings branching out from his back, stark against his dark clothing—he’s absolutely ethereal. 

“Do you know what happens when an angel falls from heaven, {Name}?” Taehyung’s voice is a whisper in the night, soft as the snow drifting down around you. And when you shake your head, he continues, his gaze hazy and distant. “We lose our wings. It’s an excruciating process—akin to burning alive—and it only happens when an angel has gone against heaven’s will.”

You swallow, hard. “It sounds horrible.”

Taehyung nods. “It is. But for me, it’s inevitable.” 

He’s leaning closer now, both his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs tracing your features as his eyes drop down to your lips. 

“I’ve fallen in love with a human, you see,” he murmurs. “And that defies everything that the heavens have ordained. It’s strictly forbidden, and one of the worst things someone like me can do. But it doesn’t matter, because I don’t care about that anymore. I just care about you.”

By this point, he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his breath. “Tae,” you whisper. Your fingers reach out to clutch at the lapels of his jacket, fisting in the woolly material. “It doesn’t have to… you don’t have to…”

You trail off when he presses a finger to your mouth. “I do, though. I can’t hide it anymore. I’m in love with you.”

Your grip in his jacket tightens, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. “Then shut up and kiss me already,” you whisper.

So he does. He closes the distance between you in an instant, his lips every bit as warm and soft as you’d imagined them to be. Your eyes flutter shut, as do his. 

You don’t notice the white feathers at the tips of his wings crumpling into ash.

for my two-year anniversary: send me a member and a prompt and i’ll write you a drabble!