#hand stop drawing this mans face different every time challenge

[theamalgaverse]

Thing I did for fun: comparison between my version of Dewey and the.. mostly canon version! Mf's a blank slate okay-

lowkey, these are fun… I may do it again…

Small bonus:

[cxffecoupx]

love languages: yoon jeonghan

yoon jeonghan x gn reader comfort (a lil bit), jeonghan and reader are a menace (at the end) warnings: none word count: 503 author's notes: not my best... this could have been better🤧 but i really do hope you like it

words of affirmation:–

there are times when you doubt yourself. everyone has it too. that's how jeonghan tries to comfort you everytime. youre the light of his life. youre the one person he loves to see every morning and every night. to see someone like that so down, so blue... it breaks his heart. he always rushes to comfort you when you're miserable. he's always the first to cheer you on when you decide to do something. he's always the one who hugs you tight and congratulate you when you achieve something. jeonghan loves to use his words to express how much he cherishes you, and you wouldnt have it any other way.

jeonghan silently listens to you, rubbing your back soothingly as you mumble on and on about work exhaustion. his tshirt is wet with your tears and your nose is full of snot, but he only embraces you warmly as he says, "it may seem very difficult right now, but you'll be okay soon. i know you got it. just believe in yourself." "what if i cant?" "then, i'll do it for the two of us."

quality time:–

jeonghan comes up with different activities to do out of nowhere. going on a walk, learning pottery, cooking meals, grocery shopping, cycling,, the list goes on. the reason? he wants to spend time with you. it's very hectic with both of your works and assignments, so he plans different things to do with you instead of just staying home. this way, youre not wasting away precious time on your phone. instead, you're both giggling, laughing, gossiping, ranting. we're making memories, you know? that's what he says.

"...what is this," you ask, scanning the huge chart in jeonghan's hands. "this is our weekly chart that i prepared, about what we should do each day of the week. mondays, we go to the park. tuesdays, we go for cycling. wednesdays are for shopping. thursdays can be games, i guess. on fridays, we got out for dinner. saturdays we cook dinner. and sundays, we go grocery shopping.

small acts of violence:–

jeonghan specializes in being a menace. and you're his apprentice now. together, you're just double trouble. fret not, its nothing too bad. simple, plain pranks like drawing on a sleeping soonyoung's face with marker, scaring seungkwan, giving chan oreos filled with toothpaste. innocent, harmless stuff like that. what han likes is how you're always up for something like this. what han loves is how you're quick to stop it when you feel like its too much. but the pranks don't end with others. you're both equally evil to play with each other too. changing phone password, hiding your favourite cup. jeonghan absolutely loves that you're always up for a challenge with him.

"yoon jeonghan," you glare at the man sitting on the chair with a shit-eating grin. he starts to run as you approach. "how dare you put a moaning audio as my ringtone and then call me??!" you shout as you chase after him.

[killerbananas]

Growth

Erwin cannot resist the curvature of your slumbering form.

🔞 mdni | masterlist | 735 wc | afab!reader x Erwin

Warnings: smut; breeding, creampie, alluded oral, sleepy dubcon initiation [it's light, cautious warning just in case], masturbation, pregnant body talk, little blasphemy, touch of tears

AN: Repost from my old account. Original AN: Vino dredged feelings for your consumption. Mangiare.

His hand scales the velvet hard length of himself in languid strokes. He surveys down the bed along your body, stopping at the curve of your stomach. The sight is arousing and terrifying in oftentimes blinding ways. Your drive wanes and ebbs at times, which he respects without needing to be told. Yet, he has never found you more stunning. The glow of your skin, how the flush of color he draws being between your legs blooms vermilion, that you even taste different to his tongue. It’s a delicacy to him. What really does his mind in is the gift you’ve agreed to share with him - another life brought into this world as his own child. Something so miraculous to him, so entwining and precious.

He’s also fighting an erection every time you turn around. As if summoned by his subconscious, you turn in your sleep. He’s begun to notice the changes in your breasts, wanting to kiss, lick, and worship every marker of your development. He’s seen how upsetting the stretch marks are to you, but cannot unsee it as an earned memory of your body working overtime to accommodate a new life. He loves every uniqueness about you and that includes the new lines that your breasts tell of your growth to support an entire new life growing inside of you.

In fact, the love and care only arouses him further. He sees your dedication, sacrifices, and trials in accepting your developments as a challenge you will conquer. One he’s happy to aid you in. His hand leaves his throbbing member to caress his eyes’ focus, biting his lip at the pebbling of your nipple. Even here you’ve changed, darkening and spreading, but he adores them in a new way, contrasting in the glow of the nightlight over his shoulder.

A groggy groan slips from your lips and travels right to his cock. Eyelashes fluttering sweep from the apple of your cheek to glance mid height and glimpse the cause of your burgeoning arousal.

“Mm, hello, handsome. Come here often?”

He snorts at your sleepy humor.

“Only as many times as you’ll have me, dear.”

“Even if I’m a little lazy right now?”

“We can make it work.”

He hardly finishes the statement before he’s pulling you to his chest, facing him. He lifts your leg to rest on his hip and plays his fingers against your apex until you’re dripping. It’s as simple as respreading his precome and using the wetness you coated his digits in to lubricate his cock before he’s nudging gently inside of you.

You hike your leg a little higher while he slowly makes love to your body. The angle is stimulating and stretches your hip in a way you didn’t know you needed, pulling groans from your lungs. You curl your leg over his ass and the backs of his thighs in a bid to get him deeper. He sees the cue as a cry for what it is and obliges, delving his dick in rutting madness against a spot that nearly blinds you with electricity.

He’s been gripping the soft flesh of your backside like a man starved of life’s pleasures. He always seems to fuck you with a raw passion that elates you, as if he may lose you tomorrow. Like he may drown without you to drift afloat in life’s insanity. Like your entire corporeal anchor may dissipate under his fingertips. Like he should waste not even a single breath without loving you with his entire being.

It’s a love full of passion that permeates your being, entwines your souls in unbreakable kindred affectation. It breeds an incorruptible bond that you both believe not even a god could break. No, only the God between your legs can affect you thusly. Only he has the power to move you in unfathomable ways. Ways that blossom networks of interlacing adulation, admiration, convoluted lust, merciless attachment like durable steel of knitted devotion, fulfillment unparalleled.

Before either of you realize it, his member imparts every ounce of his unquestionable adoration in milky rivulets that slip deep inside where no other may ever touch. Droplets of emotions unnamed trickle where his fingertips catch them. Though he is lost in your physical form, he is ever mindful of every part of you, comforting, understanding, supporting, genuinely loving.

You’d choose no other with which to weather life’s miraculous challenges. You thrive.

Taglist: @aotwarriorsimp @alexpro-nwn @animediplomat @antoxsmith @armoredpotato @aviinnit @beffjurky @blondeboyfriend @casuallyck @cherrxs @dearbaji @erwinsbaby @eyesucket @fairypiku @fandomficsobsession @fujoneshi @holographicceo @hinasakuino @interfectio-mortales @kenryug @koulakoukoula2003 @kxkyuu-main @lavenderdaisyhoney   @mybadluckshouldmakemefamous @chaotic-nick @nathalunalune @notgoodforlife @arsonszn @pockcock @poursomesunaonme @scouts-stuff @seychellse @shigarakiapologist @soaringmirror @sparklekitteh @stigandr-the-cat @syrma-sensei @reiners-milkbiddies @tiffanyy-21 @tonaken @torapologist @touyyes @we-are-so-close

[cutthroatcarnival]

Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless

Tags/Warnings: Canon-typical violence, possession

Wild equips Majora’s mask, and the leftover darkness inside takes over.

Read it on AO3!

Puppet Boy

“Wild?” Twilight inched closer to the champion, brushing off Warriors’ cautious hand. He squeezed between Hyrule and Four; both took uneasy steps back.

The teen in question was frozen in place, stuck in the motion of placing a mask on his face. That mask… the eyes bore into him, giving him the sense that someone- no, something was watching.

Wild slumped forward, causing shouts of alarms to raise among the heroes. Twilight felt a hand on his shoulder pull him back. Time stepped in front of him, the slightest of tremors visible in his hands.

“I don’t-” The cook’s voice was quiet, cutting off as his body jerked up robotically, forcing him to stand. Time’s eye never left Wild, cataloging every little movement and sound.

“Get your weapons and shields.” Wild’s arms had jerked back up to the mask, hands gripping at the edges. Sharing a look, the remaining 7 heroes snapped into action, gathering what they were told.

“What’s wrong with Wild?!” The way the mentioned hero was moving was like someone was tugging on strings, forcing his arms and upper body to sharply move. Wild’s hands were forced off the mask- the way his arms hung made him look like a puppet.

That wasn’t Wild anymore. Not completely.

“I- I’m sorry.” He twitched violently before falling still.

The mask shook, as if it were taunting someone childishly. Time felt his lungs stutter, refusing to move his gaze away, locked in with whatever evil swirled inside the painted wood, whatever evil that had possessed Wild.

“Old man, he’s got a knife-“ Time was barreled over by the teen, bringing his hands up in time to catch his wrists, stopping the weapon just inches from his face. Wild did not relent. With a yell, the older hero forced the other up, using his leg to knock the teen over.

Wild broke out of the grapple and rolled away, standing up with an unnatural speed. The mask shook again, more violently this time, and it dawned on him; it was forcing him into a backwards game of cucco. If he wanted to win, Time had to rely on the possessor’s moves.

In a flash of silver, the knife was thrown at him, Wild’s body tilted to the side as the mask mocked and laughed. And Time- Time didn’t have a shield, or his armor. He was open and exposed, he couldn’t dodge or roll, that would leave the others vulnerable. So he stood there, frozen, watching the knife fly closer, almost as if it was in slow motion. He didn’t want the journey, or his life, to end like this.

A shield was brought in front of him, the knife sinking into the wood.

“How do we win this?” Warriors. The captain lowered his shield, plucking the protruding weapon out and tossing it to the side. Wild made no move towards it.

Time knew that whatever the aftermath was would leave Wild hurt. He would come out of this possessed state aware of everything that had transpired.

“We have to get that mask off,” he shifted his stance, “Wars, Twi, you two will need to help me pin him down, but we have to keep him distracted long enough.”

“Say no less.” The other heroes had come up behind him, all brandishing different items. They quickly spread out, forming a slightly misshapen circle around the possessed hero.

Wild lunged at him, the entity of the mask sensing the challenge, accepting the challenge. Time may not be as spry as the others, but he knew how to dodge and draw out a fight. He rolled out of the way, causing Wild to skid, nearly slamming headfirst into a tree. Without a chance to right himself, Wild was flipped into the air with a ball of gold magic. He landed on his front with a thud, but staggered up, the mask twitching angrily, locking on to Time. Wild rushed at him in a full-out sprint.

The force knocked Time to ground, and his head slammed against it, disorientating him enough for the possessed Wild to climb on top of him. Time was uncomfortably close to the painted wood, but with that proximity, he could hear Wild. Wild was muttering a mantra under the mask.

A familiarly colored whip wrapped around the champion’s waist, and with a faint yell, was pulled towards Sky. Time scrambled up and straddled Wild’s torso, pinning his arms with his legs. Twilight and Warriors rushed in, pinning his legs into the ground. Sky, having dropped the handle of his whip, dropped at Wild’s head and grabbed it, forcing his head to stay still.

Taking a deep breath, Time lodged his fingers under the mask, bumping against Wild’s jaw. Whispering an apology, he pulled. A scream ripped out of Wild, and he could feel him trying to thrash. He tugged harder, tearing another scream from Wild, and he felt the mask give way, ripping the rest of it from the teen’s face.

Wild screamed as the mask peeled from his face. The wooden item was tossed to the side once he was free. Tears were streaming down his face, and sobs tore out of his chest.

“I’m sorry- I couldn’t,” he hiccuped, “I couldn’t hold it back.” Time removed himself from Wild, watching the other three copy him. Twilight gathered him in a hug, holding him there as he wept.

[yuzanwraith]

Treasure

Prompt 2. Treasure for @sasukimimochi 's Drawing & Writing challenge <3

Warnings: Dark Wangji

It’s quiet, being underwater, The only noise in the dimly lit room around his tank being that of gentle bubbles within the water itself, rising to the surface and popping once they make contact with the cold surface air. Crimson eyes blink tiredly as the creature within the glass prison places its webbed hands upon the thick walls of its home, trying to peer outside.

“Did you hope to see something else today?” Someone calls out from another room nearby.

The large, beautifully coloured, fins atop Wei Ying’s head perk up upon hearing that voice. Scales covering his neck which trail down his back towards his tail, puff up slightly in anticipation, in fear. And he hates that he feels fear. Hates that it’s him, he fears…

Suddenly, the sound of metal clattering disrupts the previous silence. And despite coming from the other room, he can hear the grating noise of knives being sharpened.

Wei Ying's entire form threatens to tremble. And it takes nearly all of his willpower to stop his scales from expanding even more.

Not today, he won’t show it today, won’t show he’s afraid. He's confident, majestic, powerful… or so he tells himself, tells himself this mantra of words in his head, again and again. Until he makes himself believe it to be the truth.

By the end of this mantra, he starts to realise something. The slicing sound of the knives…stopped. That is- Too soon. He's never done sharpening his tools this soon. Confused, Wei Ying sways closer to the edge of the glass, touches it with his face to look through it and into the large room.

It is as ever, beautiful. Decorated to the brim with the most illustrious of furniture, and the shelves are packed with glass vials all varying in colour. They glisten and sparkle whenever a few rays of sunshine enter through the elaborate Victorian windows. But what’s out there, around him isn’t what matters most, what’s on the inside however… Inside those innocent looking vials... One doesn’t need to study them for long to see what’s being displayed in them.

Eyes, noses, mouths, bones, fish, vermin.

The hand of an elderly man, a foot of a child. and the teeth of one that never made it out of its mother.

Even the eye of a kraken, a beast of legend, sits proudly atop one of the shelves…

The lord of this manor, Hanguang-Jun holds many things dear to him here, in pristine condition. Every ache, disease, oddity or smile, forever preserved here inside this room. Forever encased within colourful glass containers.

And one of his greatest possessions, a creature recently only known in myths, now exists here within these walls. Its face remains pressed against the glass of its tank and the scales of its tail and fins reflect into a mesmerising rainbow of light, a beautiful display in the normally dimly lit room.

Focusing on his work Hanguang-Jun carefully and with utmost precision, a result no doubt of years of repeated practice, arranges his knives and tools on his worktable in front of him. The edge of the blade is still blunt in places, sharpened as if an amateur worked on it. Normally he would never dare deliver such sloppy work, but today is different. Today, his tools won’t require precision. Today they are allowed to be…rough… He glances at the golden metal threads on the corner of his work bench and holds one up so it glitters in the faint light that Illuminates the room. Yes, this wire will make a perfect base to work with. Decision made, and tools prepared and ready Hanguang-Jun, or Wangji, gathers his things and heads into the main space.

And no matter how many times he stands in front of it, it will never fail to amaze him. He feels his hair stand on edge, and his breath catch in his throat. His blood pumps harder, traveling to his ears and neck staining them a vibrant red. It does things to him, seeing such a marvel right before his eyes.

Oh, what beautiful things he could make from it.

But that, that is a thought for later. First he must see to it that his possession is…malleable.

Wangji tilts his head, studying the caged creature before him for a few seconds longer, noticing the way its eyes dart around the room they’re in as if looking for a way out, as if trying to spot if there’s anything different. Anything it could use. But no.

“The room is the same as it always was Wei Ying.”

He tried but failed to stop his scales from blowing up, like a cat with its fur standing on end. Wei Ying stares with wide eyes as the Lord of the manor now stands before his tank. Somehow he just knows, knows that something is different today. Normally Hanguang-Jun would come to him, open the latch to his chamber. Drag him out by pulling at the heavy chains tied around his neck and tail, and leave him on the cold floor in a constant state of suffocation. His skin suited for life underwater would become uncomfortable dry, and his scales would bristle to show his discomfort. He would be kept like that, only occasionally granted some water over his body to keep him alive, but just barely. Just enough so that he would continue to live, but also to know in who’s hands his life is held, to be made aware who is in control. At the end of this ordeal, he would be various scales poorer, have a pinch of fin missing in multiple places, and would watch as another lock of his hair is sliced off and put into a container.

But again, today seems different. There’s something unnerving about the way Hanguang-Jun looks at him, at the way his eyes travel over his body as if examining every detail in a way he hadn’t before. It sends a shiver down his spine and he wonders if this is the day he’ll break. After all, he might be important, he might be considered a prized possession to his arsenal of treasures. But he isn’t Hanguang-Jun’s most cherished one. That, that lies in front of him, and in between him and Lord Wangji.

There in the midst of the both of them, a golden metal table carries the one thing more important than him.

But before he can gaze upon it, he's distracted when from the corner of his eyes he sees sharp tools glisten as Hanguang-Jun, careful of the object in the middle, steps closer to his cage. And Wei Ying ignores the way Wangji’s words make him shudder, they’re meant to demotivate him, to make him lose any hope of ever leaving, he knows this. So he tries to respond coming from a different angle, because despite his unease he is still curious… What more could there be, he’s given him so much, done so much…

“Ah Lan Zhan, what more do you want from me?” His Lord doesn’t grant him a response, so he continues, saying the only thing he can think of that might mean something, that might stir something within Wangji.

“I already gave you my heart long ago”

Atop the gilded table lies a bowl filled with water with a reddened sheen. In it, is the one thing Hanguang-Jun treasures more above all else. Wei Wuxian's still-beating heart.

Wei Ying himself might be Hanguang-Jun’s beloved jewel, But it is the heart that allows Wangji true control over him, with that in his possession, Wei Ying can never truly leave.

[deadmomjokes]

Betwixt Christmas gift cash and Steam Family Sharing workaround shenanigans, the husband and I have finally started Baldur's Gate 3.

Went in basically blind except for knowing the names of the companions and the fact that Astarion is a vampire (couldn't miss that cultural osmosis).

We also came in on two different meta-levels as players.

He is very familiar with D&D, D&D-based games, computer games in general, and these sorts of games specifically. He's also that kind of person that plays things on Extreme Difficulty Mode for fun. He quits when something isn't challenging enough. His idea of relaxing, rewarding gameplay is ultra-hard-mode Elden Ring and Dark Souls.

I, on the other hand, am bad at games. Full stop. I have lost Wii Mario Kart to a 6 year old, repeatedly. I get hopelessly lost even when there's detailed maps, trackers, compasses, and flagged waypoints. I also panic in combat situations and have no strategic ability aside from "stand there, hit it, and hope it doesn't move." I'm more of a low-stakes visual novel sort of gamer. Stardew Valley is as intense as I get.

He is playing a Seldarine Drow warlock in a pact with an archfey. She's a noble with a ridiculously high Charisma score, a perfectly balanced spell loadout, and an even more balanced overall stat build. She's DPS without being totally squishy and helpless, and has advantage to almost everything. She also has an impeccable fashion sense and always looks put together, even when on death's door to a brain worm. Or, to put it in a way my husband would loathe, she got that drip.

I am playing a ginger himbo of a high elf fighter with -1 to Charisma and a -1000 to common sense. He's an impulsive maniac with, somehow, a +3 to intimidation despite being a truly gentle soul that believes every sob story he comes across. He's a sweaty, dusty, grubby little feral child (outlander background) with the world's messiest ponytail and greasepaint-turned-eyeliner that a 90s ex emo kid would be proud of. And that's him trying to look presentable. Despite having an impressive dexterity score, my natural disadvantage to dexterity (and Wisdom and Intelligence) as the player makes it so that this man bumbles his way into everything and only gets out by making horrifying threats he has absolutely no intention of following up on, or by being forced to stand his ground and take it on the jaw.

So this was going to be An Experience no matter what. And boy, it sure has been.

Thus far, we have:

Accidentally pacifism'd our way into every Goblin/Absolute aligned settlement we've encountered on the pure luck of husband's choice to play a Drow because he thought it would add an interesting dynamic. That interesting dynamic, he thought, would be difficulty. He thought being a Drow would make it harder because of the general hatred toward them. He's technically good-aligned, but, y'know, planet-of-hats racism means he was expecting it to work against him, which he likes because he likes when things are hard. Only now it's basically a free pass into all the areas we'd normally have to fight or sneak into. Great for our shared pacifist tendencies, but LOL

Lost a full hour of progress because my computer screen is tiny and bad at graphics and I hadn't learned all the controls yet, so while trying to investigate a hole in the floor of an abandoned church I tripped in face-first and got us into an unescapable, imminent-TPK situation, whereupon the game immediately autosaved for the first time since waking up on the beach. We have since learned to spam the quicksave button liberally.

Accepted a ton of mutually exclusive quests, half of which we have no intention of doing, just to try and get out of situations without combat, so now the mini map now looks like a cubist rendition of a simple sun drawing and I'm SO worried it's going to come crashing down and get us shanked in our sleep.

MET BEST BOY DOGGO I WILL DIE FOR SCRATCH 😭

Discovered husband's character is, build wise, a carbon-copy of Wyll. This was 100% unintentional and he's BIG mad about it LOL RIP

Impulsively pushed a button in a crypt without saving and woke up a bunch of skellies we weren't prepared for, but were somehow also saved by that same impulsivity because I had previously run around the entire area and looted every single skeleton no matter how useless it was to my character, so they all woke up without their weapons so HAH take that I TOLD YOU being a klepto would pay off

Immediately after this fortuitous stroke of fate, having learned exactly nothing, my impulsive maniac opened the shiny sarcophagus before consulting anyone or healing. Luckily it wasn't cursed or trapped or full of enemies (it was Withers, and I'm love), but I'm now not allowed to open or interact with anything bigger than a crate without announcing it first so husband has the chance to go NO WAIT LET ME SAVE FIRST

Sneaked into a secret underground passage, whereupon my husband sent his invisible'd familiar around to carefully scout the area, discovering the button that would turn off the overpowered guardian statue. My character then readied a crossbow shot to hit said button, but in trying to move out of the way of the other party members, stepped right into the statue's attack circle. I panicked, tried to move, but couldn't figure out how to unselect the attack I could no longer use, and tried to fix it by pausing. But all of that just resulted in me standing there, doing nothing, until I finally dropped dead. Luckily I passed my saving throws, and more luckily still, my husband managed to stop laughing long enough to eldritch blast the statue to pieces and come get me.

So anyway, we're having the best time. I know we're late to the party, but it really is so good. I may have even teared up a little during the dream sequence with the psychedelic neon light guardian warriors. This is going to consume my brain for the next few months, and I'm happy to have paid for the privilege. 10/10, absolutely deserves that GOTY and the $60 price tag both.

No spoilers please, we're only level 3 and just encountering the Goblin Camp. (We've met everyone but Karlach, I believe.) But rest assured, as we learn and discover more I will come yelling and seeking those who will screech with me. Probably mostly about my new sons that I've acquired, namely the lying purple sadsack trash wizard with some horrifying kind of chronic illness and/or addiction, and the prettiest most specialist murder machine who definitely won't admit it but is definitely gonna need a hug when I finish breaking down those obviously performative emotional walls.

Also, Lae'zel scares me. Please stop yelling at me, you cranky fish woman, I'm trying my best here 😭

[dmagedgoods]

red on white

A gift for @iwoszareba 😁❤ ~ There is a flicker of satisfaction when he hears how the breath is pressed from his lungs as his back and head slam into the wall. A choking laugh falls from the trickster’s lips. Talking must be difficult with his hand squeezing his throat, and yet his strained voice reminds of a purr: “Oh darling, you sure know how to treat a lover. C’mon,” His hands land on his waist and he pullshim closer. “Hurtme more.” He has always wondered if he enjoys the pain, experiences it in different and obscured ways, or is just too removed to care. His every muscle feels tense. Is it worth it? Can he truly claim it is? The question haunts him often these days, even more often during sleepless nights, almost as much as those yellow eyes and mocking grin. Salvadore can smell the blood seeping from the corpse of the ambassador behind him – now staining the white marble –, stabbed by the man’s own servant after a disgusting ruse against both of them, smoothly executed behind the scenes but in plain daylight. It probably has been less elegant than it seems – the boy too gullible to offer a challenge for the trickster. And now he will hang for his deed committed in rampant anger, while the one responsible will go unpunished. “Why?” he asks sharply. Hate and loathing flood his senses and ooze into a sickening need. There is no doubt, Knave can see the shame on his features. The bastard must be pleased with himself, pleased with how he dug himself into his skin, to curl between his ribs and cocoon himself inside. “Why did I save you from his upcoming betrayal? You hurt me, I thought you’d approve of my piece of art. I acted with your interests in mind. One issue less to worry about.” His face splits into another grin. Knave’s eyes dilate when his hand tenses around his throat. His own jaw is as tight as his fingers sinking into resilient flesh, his mouth a hard line. Then he lets go. He has killed him before, many times. There is no catharsis in it anymore. “Red on white, isn’t that romantic?” Knave’s voice has the slightest coarse edge, it stays his only reaction to the attack. He teases him. Red on white, he seems always to come back to that. “It starts to get boring; don’t you think?” “Decidedly so. But you keep insisting on living in a white tomb. Who but me would paint it with some color for you?” A part of him wants to close the distance again, with the smooth swiftness of a feline predator, to grip the clown’s collar and hurt him more and maybe capture his insolent lips in a hard, undeserved kiss. Instead, he straightens his posture. “Make sure this disgusting mess gets cleaned up or you will start cursing your immortality.” Salvadore already knows that Knave will do nothing of that sort when he turns around and leaves the room to deal with the aftermath of his chaos. To his discontent, the deed puts him in quite a convenient position. He despises the fact that the ambassador’s death, indeed, comes in handy. – Nothing about it justifies the provoked murder. Nothing about it justifies that he protects the one responsible. All the more, the sick feeling in his stomach grows. For a moment, he stops in his steps to find the inner calmness he will need in the upcoming conversations. His eyes wander out a window, his hands clench into fists. The winter has come early, as it often does in Drezen’s heights. The frost draws tracery across the glass, waves, ships, the arms of an octopus … He tenses further, recognizing the mental imagery as what it is: His old homesickness in a moment of despair. Unwilling and nauseous, he shakes the feeling off to the best of his abilities, still trying to regain his self-control. And yet here he is, not acting congruously, out of this weird fondness for a being too dangerous to keep ignoring his principles for him, out of a connection he doesn’t even understand and a foolish, one-sided loyalty. Is it worth it? The question follows him like the ever-present smirk. Can he truly claim it is?

[thefuzzzz]

Jasico Bingo Challenge #12!!

Prompt: Ancient Greek AU

Nico and Jason had been "friends" for years. Of course, when Hades found out they were more than just that, the two were separated.

"You are children of different realms," Hades had boomed into the echoing halls of his palace, "it can never be."

Nico tried to argue, but his sharp tongue landed him locked in his bedroom for months to come.

"I will find you a rightful suitor. Then, you will be wed," Hades said one night at the dinner table, per Nico's arguing.

"It will be a loveless courtship," Nico had muttered into his plate. What a hypocrite his father was, a man of death married to a woman who sprung up life with every step.

That night, after being locked away in his room again, Nico sat by the window and watched as the night rolled by. Cold wind whipped his hair.

At the sound of whooshing, Nico whipped his head to the side.

There, he found Jason's smiling face held up by his ability to fly. Nico ginned. "My father will kill you if he sees you here," Nico stated, letting their fingers intertwine.

"No matter, I'd die with your face as the last thing I saw."

"You have a death wish."

"You are King Death's son."

Nico laughed lightly. Then, he remembered what his father had said at dinner. Suddenly, nothing felt so funny.

Japan saw the minuscule shift in Nico's face. "What's the matter?"

"My father...he's trying to wed me away," Nico said softly.

Jason raised his eyebrows before thinking. "By what means?"

"I presume the gladiator's arena."

"I'd kill a thousand men for you, Nico.”

Nico tightened the grip on their hands. The wind was impossibly cold. He wished more than anything to drag Jason inside and hold him close in the warmth, but fear kept them at bay.

"Don't...we can find another way. I don't want to watch you be murdered at the hands of some brute over this."

"Over this?" Jason echoed. "Over the loss of my one true love? You know not the lengths I would go for you, my dear."

Nico looked at him, pained. There was no use fighting it, Jason would register as a fighter. All Nico could do was pray he won.

The following days, Nico hardly left his room. Even in the times he was permitted to by his father, he stayed in bed. He preferred to sleep than be awake in a world without Jason. At least in his dreams, he could find joy in his presence.

The first of three days of battles, Nico sat bored in his throne atop the colosseum, right beside his father. He watched as the two opponents of the first battle fought. He listened as they declared their love for him and tried to impress him with flashy moves. Still, he leaned his head on his hand until one man was declared the winner.

The second match was just as boring. Nico caught himself hoping Jason really did enroll. Then, he stopped the thought out. He couldn't bear to see Jason harmed by one of these desperate men.

The third battle of the day dragged on for too long, in everyone's opinion. Nico could've sworn he heard his one father mutter for it to be over already.

The fourth and final battle of the day came soon after, to the whole arena's relief.

Nico, however, was not relieved in the slightest.

Two warriors came out. Neither were Jason. One was a tall man with shaggy dark hair, and the other was as a man in knights armor Nico had never seen before.

He couldn't see either of them well, considering their distance, but he couldn't see the knight at all under the armor. He wished for it to be Jason, but the armor wasn't his own. Deep down, Nico knew it was futile to wish.

The man with dark hair proclaimed undying love for Nico before drawing his sword. The knight stayed silent, which Nico could appreciate.

The fight was at least interesting and quick. The armored man won with ease. His fighting style was unfamiliar, Nico had never seen it before. He wondered what far away land this man was from. He hoped he never found out.

The next day was the second round. This day only had two fights in it, but the first still dragged on for what felt like millennia.

Nico almost fell asleep, but the itchiness of his royal robes kept him well awake.

The second fight included the armored knight yet again. Nico was glad he was a good fighter, at least he'd be able to marry someone who didn't talk. Maybe he wouldn't mind Jason being around.

The armored man won, progressing to the final fight the next day.

Nico hardly slept a wink that night. He wanted more than anything for Jason to come up to his window that second and whisk him away to another work, but that didn’t happen. He just laid there, with nothing but the rattling of the wind on his window and the undying worry in his mind.

The day of the final battle rolled around. Nico thought his jaw would dislocate with how hard it was clenched. He sat in his throne, watching the two fighters take their places.

He wanted so badly for Jason to show up out of nowhere and convince his father they were made to be together. However, his wishing and wanting never got him anything.

When he looked up from his desolate upset, he realized the fight was almost over. His father was gripping the arms of his throne beside him so hard his knuckles were turning white.

Nico looked toward the battle field as the two gladiators fought. The opponent, a man with many scars and cropped brown hair, battled sharply with the knight. It was clear the brunet was tired, and soon enough the battle would have a predicted win.

Nico convinced himself it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could run away? He could always leave the man at the altar, change his name, and abandon his father’s kingdom. The option of poisoning his soon to be husband didn’t look so bad right now.

When he looked up again, he saw the brunet on the ground, and the knight standing above him. The brunet didn’t move, and his father’s booming voice declared the knight the winner. Nico’s veins turned to ice.

The knight looked up at them triumphantly, but didn’t put his sword away. His battle wasn’t yet won.

He tugged off his helmet, giving way to a familiar face and blonde hair. Nico grinned, jumping up and shadow traveling to the ground so fast he hardly registered Jason’s warm embrace.

Jason held him close with one arm and pointed his sword at Hades with the other. “I won.” He said simply. Nico pulled him down and kissed him softly but desperately before he could get out another bitter word at his father.

"See? You knew not the lengths I would go, my dear."

This is also on AO3:

My card:

[hendolish]

Idk if you're still taking requests but I would love stonesford first time please💖

john stones/jordan pickford | first time ♡ (smut)

The England national team is on the road again, another away game looming on the horizon. The air is buzzing with anticipation, a blend of excitement and tension, and John and Jordan, despite their camaraderie on the pitch, have shared a different kind of tension off of it as of late—one that neither has been brave enough to fully address.

It's a quiet evening in the team hotel. The corridors echo with the distant murmur of conversations, but John and Jordan find themselves alone in the quiet before the storm. The unspoken tension hangs thick between them as they navigate through the winding corridors, eventually parting with gruff, ‘Goodnight’s.

In the dimly lit hallway, John pauses outside his hotel room, key card in hand. He glances around, half expecting someone to pop out of nowhere and offer an excuse to delay the inevitable. His pulse quickens, heart thrumming in his chest, yet he remains rooted in place.

Meanwhile, a few doors down, Jordan stands in front of his own room, a similar internal battle waging within him. He takes a deep breath, hand hovering over the handle. The weight of uncertainty settles over him.

Neither man has ever been one to shy away from a challenge on the pitch, but this—this feels different. Personal. Vulnerable.

Inside John's room, a few deep breaths later, he tosses his key card onto the bed, frustration etched across his face. He knows what he wants, but the fear of misreading the signals and jeopardising their friendship holds him back. It's an internal battle he's fought for too long.

Simultaneously, Jordan takes the plunge. He turns the handle, the door creaking open, revealing the sterile yet familiar hotel room. But his mind is far from the standard décor. It's consumed by the almost magnetic pull that seems to draw him to John.

And as if guided by an unseen force, John leaves his room just as Jordan steps into the hallway. The timing is impeccable, the universe orchestrating their collision. In the narrow corridor, they find themselves face to face, the charged silence echoing louder than any words.

For a heartbeat, they simply stare, a shared understanding passing between them. It's a recognition of unspoken desires and a mutual agreement that the time for restraint has come to an end.

Without uttering a single word, John steps forward, and Jordan reciprocates. The gap between them diminishes rapidly until their lips meet in a clash of pent-up longing. It's a bruising kiss, fuelled by months of unspoken want and aching restraint. The door swings shut behind them, sealing off the rest of the world.

“Fucking finally.”

Jordan breathes against John’s lips before he’s pressing his own against them once again, and the only reason John doesn’t possess some clever retort in return this time is because the very same sentiment is the only thing currently occupying his mind.

“Bed.”

He says gruffly instead as he pulls his top over his head, Jordan’s eyes roaming shamelessly over his torso, no longer reliant on stolen glances in the dressing room.

It doesn’t take long for the both of them to be rid of their clothes; John eager for the press of hot skin against his own. And Jordan seems to make it his mission to map each and every inch of John’s skin with his lips.

“You wanna be inside me?”

John asks breathlessly as he cranes his neck downwards to get a good look at Jordan’s lips stretched around his cock. Jordan stops dead in his tracks then and shoots him a look that seems to ask whether that’s even a question he needs to ask.

He enjoys Jordan watching him as he stretches himself out.

The other had offered of course, but it’s quicker this way and John’s used to it by now. Maybe one day he’ll even tell Jordan that it’s usually his fingers he imagines pressing up inside of him instead of his own.

“How’d you wanna do this?”

Jordan asks once John pants that he’s ready, fingers already working deftly to slip the condom over Jordan’s cock.

“Want to see your face.” John tells him truthfully, and control seems to slip from Jordan altogether then, knocking John back against the bed and hitching up his legs either side of him.

“Ready?”

He has the mind to check one more time, and when John nods he begins pushing inside of him.

John’s never taken another man before.

(He maybe should’ve told Jordan this beforehand but he wants to see his face when he tells him later that he was the first man to fuck him.)

And the stretch is obscene yet simultaneously the greatest pleasure John has ever experienced in his life.

He rakes his blunt nails down Jordan’s back as he pushes further inside and whispers all the things he wants to do to John against his ear. It causes John’s cock, laying neglected against his stomach, to throb even more.

“Please Jordan,” He soon finds himself saying even though he hadn’t really meant to, but when it causes Jordan to tense up against him he does it again, “Please.”

Jordan thrusts his full length inside of him then, punching the breath out of John as he chokes on a silent moan and Jordan is already pulling out of him again to thrust his cock back inside.

The goalkeeper sits back on his knees for better purchase, hooking his arms underneath John’s legs to search for the perfect angle as he continues to drive himself home.

And John finds himself unable to do much more than lie back and take what Jordan’s giving him with quick panted breaths. Watching Jordan watching him feels like he’s being turned inside out as his cock continues to spurt feebly against his stomach. But when his hands move to satisfy the aching sensation Jordan is quick to bat them away.

“Wanna see you finish from my cock, Stonesy.”

Jordan tells him as he collects both of John’s wrists into his grasp, pinning them over his head against the pillows as he continues to thrust sharply inside of him. He’s close enough to kiss again and John does because he feels like he needs to, only to bite down on Jordan’s lip as his cock brushes up against his prostate.

“Fuck.”

Jordan curses as the taste of metal bleeds into their kiss, but he doesn’t slow his pace for one second, instead he seems reinvigorated, and is soon punishing John’s prostate on each and every thrust, keeping his arms trapped above him as he does so.

It’s John finally spilling over himself that sees Jordan reaching his own climax, thrusting sharply once or twice more before he’s burying himself in John and panting heavily against his lips and soon kissing them lazily whilst John’s unable to keep his cheeks from stretching into a grin.

♡

[skxrbrand]

prev/Chaos Wastes, Northern Polar Gate

Khorne's timing could've better.

It was the unspoken sentiment written across the face of every Blood Daemon, the massive daemonic host having strode directly in the middle of a storm at the Blood God's demand. Legions upon legions of red daemons stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a bleeding wound on the white-covered landscape. There were Bloodletters, the infernal footmen of Khorne, and Flesh Hounds, his tireless hunters. The mutated men that called the Chaos Wastes home had been drawn to the potent corruption of the daemon's coming and they too milled about in anticipation. Towering above the man-sized mutants and daemons were the Bloodthirsters of Khorne and not just any random grouping of Daemons.

These were the Skaradrim, peerless lieutenants of the Huntsmaster himself, Ka'Bandha. One of the mightiest of of Khorne's servants, the Gorelord surveyed all he held dominion over. Truly, Khorne had spared little expense to see this hunt completed successfully. The Huntsmaster rather figured he alone could neutralize the God-Strands of Khade, but Kharneth had felt differently. Mixed in with the Third Host of Murder were the artisanal killers of the Fifth Host of Murder and the Immutables, a lesser Blood Host commanded by Hish’khar’tzin. The Headsmen, Throne-Architects, and the Order of the Change-Slayers. It was very clear that Kharneth wanted this done with as much care and precision as possible for his daemons.

In his hands, and Va'rricks and Hish’khar’tzin, were special blades forged by Khorne himself. They were Bind-blades, meant to capture the god-strands and return them to Khorne's authority. The Huntsmaster weighed the furiously burning weapon in his hand. His ear flicked at the approach of hooves. Looking down, Hish’khar’tzin had walked up, keeping her head and posture low enough to be respectful but not so much that it would be obsequious.

" My Blood Host is restless, Great Huntsmaster, as am I. They hunger battle. Will we see it soon?"

The Huntsmaster simply snorted. It had been a day or two since they arrived and waiting had claimed some of their numbers. Khorne's fury couldn't be kept at bay for long and it was becoming clear this storm had no intention of abating anytime soon. Ka'Bandha wasn't put at ease by Hish'Khar'Tzin's show of submission. Even here, even now, she was a threat. Va'rrick of the Fifth Host was too; a greater one in fact. As were every single one of the Skaradrim. All it would take was one Blood Challenge. No rank in the Blood Legion could not be claimed by right of arms.

But, for the time being, the gulf between his strength and their own was vast. This stayed any ambitions they might've had. Ka'Bandha exposed a fang to her and eyeballed Va'rrick as well for good measure.

"We shall. This storm shall not stop us." He declared, flaring his wings and drawing every pair of eyes. " Take your hosts and spread fast and far! We must strike down this God-foe for the Glory of Khorne!"

"And what of the traitor?" Va'rrick spoke now, " What of Skarbrand?"

Skarbrand. The look Ka'Bandha wore was dark, but anticipatory.

" Leave the Whore-monger to me."

[yifangtheanimator]

Summer Homework: Current News Story

The story of the homework is based on a current news. It is a challenge to me because I rarely play and make animated film with news since the days people got breakdown because of COVID-19.

This topic aim to allow us to step out of our comfort zone on making animations. I have reviewed the works I made last year and found I made digital animations a lot. This is a kind of inertia, because it is very convinient that I use iPad to draw and I can making films everywhere.

Therefore, I decided to return to my original intention. The first step is reviewing the first animation I made in my foundation year at Middlesex, which is a flipbook animation about a fisherman and a big wave.

I made that film with markers, and I am satisfied with the colour and the way to show the film with flipbook.

I do have another blank flipbook and ready to use. Making a flipbook is more tiring than a digital animated film, which means I can no longer copy and paste an existing layer. However, I like making animation traditionally and very enjoy it, so obviously I will try flipbook this time.

Now that the medium of production has been decided, the next step is to choose the subject matter of the story. It is a recent news story, but in my expectation it needed to resonate with me and the audience.

So I started looking for interesting articles on various online news sites. Soon, I noticed the article I needed in The Guardian News Online.

First story: A homeless man suspected of shoplifting

The story is telling about a man was accused of stealing in a supermarket. It shows unfair truth to homeless people and citizens at the bottom of society. Surrounding the article I made up more contents for my film, because there are many details that were not explained clearly in the original story.

With the help of the script, I quickly designed the characters in the story. It includes the protagonist who looks haggard and has stubble on his face.

And other characters......

Also, I recorded the initial ideas of colour,especially the numbers for each markers I will use. Which help me a lot when I do colouring works. some notes about the story are also there, including teaser of the main story.

Finally I made a storyboard based on my script. Now is the time to start making the filpbook.

Outcome - Flipbook Film

I shot the film with my phone (Stop Motion Studio) and edit with Premier Pro. The film including flipbook (Traditional way), digital part (Modern way) and even I made a scene props with tea bag box and a fan with ice cream sticks. Which allow me to shot in a interesting high angle.

Second Story: Double Winner

The second story is more positive, reduced nervous and serious feeling on first story and mainly based on the sticker event that McDonald's currently doing.

Because I am currently in love with collecting the stickers of that event and I really interested on the way differently and creatively that McDonald's doing with their business.

The stickers are basically will appear on almost every food packages and you might get vouchers from the sticker that can be redeemed instantly for free food as well as grand prize vouchers will require collecting all the pieces.

People tend to be more willing to collect food rewards from the former than the latter. They are normally easier to obtain.

Back to the story. At the beginning A homeless man is begging for money from people passing by. He is starving and exhausting, and feeling dizzy. Until a young man passing by, and pulled him to help him stand up. The man begged the young man for change, and the young man offered to take him to a feast. They went direct to the McDonald's, but the homeless man looking at his dirty hands, he didn't dare to go in.

Later, the young man arranged for the homeless man to be seated inside the restaurant. The man was so hungry that he picked up the burger and ate it regardless of his dirty hands. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, and his face was filled with gratitude.

Seeing that he was engaged in eating, the young man left the restaurant. When the man realizes he is alone in a busy restaurant, he becomes uneasy and disoriented. It seemed like the people around to be whispering, looking at his dirty appearance and his shabby clothes.

After clearing away the remains of the food on the table and putting the packaging boxes into paper bags, the man just wanted to leave the place quickly. He went to the trash can and wanted to throw them away, then realized the stickers were there.

He peeled off the sticker on the package, and his expression changed.

The next moment, the perspective comes to another beggar. People walked past him indifferently, as if they didn't notice him. Afterwards, a man's figure arrived and handed the beggar a piece of hot food. Facing the beggar's thanks, the man finally smiled.

You're welcome, we all have difficult times.

StoryBoard

Sending kindness and love......

[ellwoodwrites]

PLAYING WITH FIRE

18+ content below the line🍋🔞

(Characters are Detective Gabriel Harlow and Mafia Queen Annette Luvarick)

They don’t know how they ended up like this. One minute they were at each others throats and now well they still are but differently. Clothes strewn across the room with moonlight trinkling in through the windows. The night is filled with groans, moans and other sinful sounds.

Anne chuckles darkly in the silence of the night.

“ To think that you were so hellbent on getting the mafia that you’re literally under it"

“ I still am hellbent and I’m not under the mafia", Gabe replies sighing when Anne pushes herself against him.

“Oh darling, but I AM the mafia and currently you’re under me", Anne smirks while running her finger down his chest.

Gabe groans tries to reach her but Anne grabs his hands and pins them to the bed.

“Hands off love, I don’t think we’re acquainted that well for you to touch me"

Defeated by his haze of pleasure, Gabe relents, “Whatever. Do whatever you want but do something.”

They are still half clothed in their undergarments, the bra strap of one shoulder hanging low on Anne’s arm while the waistband feels too tight to Gabe now.

“My my, getting desperate now are we?”

With a quick retort at his tongue, Gabe faces Anne to reply but halts, moon hangs low behind Anne silhoueting her frame as she leans over him, proud and powerful. A part of him thinks that she looks like a goddess like this, but he’ll never admit that to her.

“Are we fucking or not?”, he rasps voice thick with want.

“Good things come to those who wait sweetheart”, Anne then starts kissing him, his lips, his jaw down to to his neck. Marks his shoulders with rough hickeys as she makes her way down. Gabe shudders with want, pleasure and eagerness. She keeps kissing down his chest to his stomach and stops right at his waist chuckling.

“Oh you’re fucking cruel Luvarick"

At that Anne laughs out loud, “Hmmm I wonder what would it take for you to say my name Harlow”, as she bends down to pull his waistband with her teeth.

“It would require alot mo-", Gabe moans mid-sentence as Anne lets the elastic slip from her teeth smiling cheekily when the band slaps against his waist with a satisfying smack.

“Sorry were you saying something?”, asks Anne huskily.

“Hah you’re driving me crazy”, Gabe almost whines.

Anne pushes him back down to the bed with one hand while the other goes to remove his boxers completely, “Good, I like it a little crazy".

The cold night air is almost tortuous on Gabe's hot skin and the smooth calculated touch of Anne’s hands on his newly bared thighs is heaven for him.

“Ah you were hiding quite something in those pants of yours detective", Anne looks at him or rather his length admiringly,

“Not that I’d expect anything less from a man of your caliber”, says Anne as she kisses him right on his hip and as her hands draw close to his upper thigh.

“N-No fair.....You’re still dressed", Gabe manages to stutter out.

“Still observant huh detective.... let’s see if I can make you lose control", challenges Anne as she reaches to her back to undo the hooks and tug her panties down and there, she is in all her glory on top of him. Bare and dangerous.

“Fuck....”, whispers Gabe in awe of her and a little intimidated.

“I’m getting there darling and fair warning I’m not stopping till you forget your own goddamn name”, Anne says as she sits upright again hands roaming his body. He’s strong, muscle flexing at her every touch, chest broad that rises and falls with every breath, every sigh and every moan he takes, slight abs that shiver every time Anne runs her fingers over them, strong shoulders that she thinks would provide her great support, not the usual kind, the kind where you need something to grab on, something to hold on while your carnal desires take full hold of your body, hands that long to grab her and have his way with her but are obedient for her wanting more, staying right where she pinned them, neck that is deliciously marked by her and legs that are currently supporting her weight, scars running his abdomen and chest proving to her of Gabe’s strength and resilience, messy brunette hair frames his face, a good jawline, filled cheeks, long nose and swollen lips, curious hazel eyes following her every move but half lidded and gaze dark due to current circumstances. Oh, He’s handsome and positively a treat especially for her, Anne thinks but of course she wouldn’t admit it out loud either.

Gabe’s impatient groan brings Anne back to Earth,

“I thought you were going to make me forget my name but honestly a call girl might’ve been better-AH”

“Do NOT compare me with some whore Gabriel”, Anne says as she forcefully moves her hand down his shaft.

Oh, He’s in trouble now, she used his actual name.

She keeps moving her hand up and down his length, giving him just enough to moan about but nothing to reach anywhere, in fact he’s even more needy now.

Whenever his moans reach a fever pitch, she slows, never letting him fall over the edge, giving enough to keep him there as long as she wants.

Gabe raises his hands slowly and places them on Anne’s waist to stop her, he can’t take anymore of this, she has him where she wants him.

“Something the matter, love?”, asks Anne knowing full well what he wants,

“Annette please, no more…...I can’t take it anymore”, Gabe whines as he thrusts into her hand.

Her name sounds wonderful in his mouth, unholy even but that just riles Anne even more.

“Ask what you want, and you shall receive.”, Anne states as if he hasn’t been begging for more for the past hour.

“I need you……. I need you right now”, Gabe admits finally, his breathes getting deeper and blood rushing straight down.

Anne sighs finally showing how much she’s enjoying this and leans back up to kiss Gabe. Her kiss is fiery like her, bold and red like the wine, lips soft but oh so demanding. He stays steady there, like an anchor for a ship stuck in a storm, lips pliant against her and the feel of her body pressing against him making him breathless. Anne breaks the kiss and just hovers right over his face, brown eyes staring deep into open hazel ones, Gabe raises his hand to cup her face and one rests on her waist and she closes her eyes and sighs in content. His touch is different from others, its rugged but gentle, its safe and comforting, its grounding her before she’s lost to the skies. She likes his touch. A lot.

“We can stop if you’d like…”, whispers Gabe sensing Anne’s shift in demeanour. What he doesn’t know is that its this, his thoughtfulness, his gentle attitude towards her that has her weak in the knees though she’d never admit it. She’s danger beautifully wrapped in a woman and he’s still gentle, never afraid, always curious, and always rises to her games and challenges.

“No… no I want this”, Anne shifts back to her original attitude and leans back to grab something,

“As roguishly handsome as you are…. I don’t plan on having children anytime soon”, says Anne smirking while tearing protection with her teeth.

“Hold still now love”, as she makes sure he’s fit and full in the latex.

Gabe reaches up to kiss Anne moving down to her neck and staying there, he leaves no marks keeping the kisses light and gentle and that’s what she needs before she slips him inside her with half sigh, half moan. He’s perfect, she thinks, he feels perfect.

To Gabe nothing could’ve prepared him for this moment as he groans to the heavens above, the skin on skin is too much and not enough at the same time, his arms encircle Anne and stay there, Anne grabs his shoulders to keep herself steady and on begins a long night.

She keeps the pace slow and steady for a while, sloppy kisses here and there as Gabe’s hands scratch her back as his mouth fits on her chest, kissing and nibbling. She can feel her pleasure rise and his too.

That’s when she begins moving fast and deep, leaning her head on his shoulder and he begins thrusting into her with the same force and passion. They are both moaning in a frenzy now, too deep into their pleasure that they can’t think anymore, whispering each other’s names like it’s a prayer.

Feeling that they both are getting close, Anne taps on Gabe’s chest whispering “shift”, and he knows, knows what she means. Grabbing her back and steadying her waist, he shifts their positions while still inside her and Anne lays on her back. Now that the moonlight hits her, Gabe can see that she’s flushed from cheeks to neck down to her chest. Her stomach is lean, and muscle is flexing right beneath some flesh. Long wavy black hair flares around her like a halo, her breasts rising and falling with her breathing creating an almost hypnotising rhythm for Gabe. If anything, she’d be the devil, he thinks. The sharp look in her brown eyes, the sinful sounds falling from her plump pink lips, cheekbones prominent and a cutting jawline that frames her face. She’s trouble, so much trouble but his favourite kind of trouble.

By now they are no longer teetering on the edge and now Gabe can move again. He thrusts into her slowly and gently as she moans in the chill night air. He’s carefully watching her reactions as he cups her breast and squeezes it and thrusts into her at the same time and she moans loudly at the sensation and to him it felt it heaven itself had opened its doors for him. He starts kissing her neck then and starts moving down to her breasts. His thrusts get fast and a little rough as he’s kissing her breasts, its when he lightly bites her while thrusting in her rough that her back rises from the bed and her mouth hangs open in a ‘o’.

When she hits the bed back again, her hands are in Gabe’s hair, and she pulls him roughly in a searing kiss while he picks up the pace. They fit perfectly with each other like two puzzle pieces, slightly crazy and reckless but puzzle pieces.

“Faster”, orders Anne in a moan, and Gabe grunts as he goes even faster to pleasure her.

Sweat rolls down sensually on Gabe’s chest as Anne’s hands scratch his scalp where she’s grabbing his head and the other one making angry red marks down his back.

She can feel him throbbing in her as he draws close, and he can feel her twitching to let him know they again are close, and this time Anne doesn’t stop them.

Gabe’s thrusts become frantic and hurried and all he wants is for Anne to be with him at the edge. Anne knows that a few more thrusts hitting her just right would be enough for her to jump right over the edge.

Gabe pushes himself deeper into her with a grunt and Anne climaxes with a high-pitched moan, her walls clenching tightly around Gabe pushing him past the edge and he finishes inside her with a groan and rests his head on top of her as they both catch their breaths.

When he finally opens his eyes, he finds Anne already looking at him and she kisses him surprisingly gentle for her. It makes Gabe chuckle and Anne breaks the kiss, “What?”, she asks with a perplexed expression.

Gabe kisses her forehead as he replies, “Nothing, I’m surprised that you didn’t bite my lip there” and ends with laughing some more oblivious that Anne has gone rigid beneath him, still processing the forehead gesture and how sweet his laughter sounds.

When he looks back at her, Anne has something soft in her eyes and a wildness in her smirk that has Gabe swallowing nothing, she looks positively radiant and wolfish.

“Keep buttering me up detective and you might not walk straight anymore”, Anne purrs in his ear and that has Gabe looking away, a blush forming on his cheeks.

Anne laughs as she asks, “Round two?”,

“Food first then…...I don’t know maybe I could be persuaded”, Gabe replies trying to slip back into his cool, calm attitude.

In reply Anne slaps his shoulder, “Oh now you want to act tough but were begging me earlier to fuck you”.

Gabe groans, “Ugh fine but zip that crude mouth of yours”, he slips out of the bed to find his phone and wallet to order takeout.

Anne shifts on the bed, posing provocatively, “Are you sure? This mouth can do wonders and have you begging for more”, she says while moving her tongue suggestively on her teeth.

Gabe shakes his head and ducks out of the room, smiling when he hears Anne’s laughter ringing in the penthouse.

[wildbornsiren]

Again | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

Again Synopsis: Just a drabble about Jake getting his face wet.  One shot 823 words AFAB/Female reader.  Warnings: Explicit. MINORS DNI. oral (f. receiving) female ejaculation, dirty talk.

Notes: Based of an anon request for Jake’s reaction to a squirting reader. I’m so sorry if this doesn’t scratch the itch you were looking for, but I tried.  Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for reading, it really means the most.    tagging in:   @writercole @evansrogerskitten @princessmisery666 because ya’lls fic sent me earlier today. 

“When do we need to be back downstairs?” Jake’s rummaging around in the mini fridge. “Javy challenged Bradshaw to a dance-off and someone needs to be there to record it.” “Am I supposed to keep you from recording, or getting in on it?” You lay back on the bed, enjoying the icy blast of the air conditioning. It was muggy and hot in the ceremony hall, and the hotel room wasn’t much better. “There’s not enough to drink in here to get me involved in that.” You can hear him open a bottle, liquid pouring into a plastic cup. “Are you staying in your whites for the reception?” He grins at you, raising the cup in your direction. “Didn’t you say something about ripping them off of me with your teeth in the elevator?” “I said a lot of things.” You roll onto your side, getting a better look at him.

Golden skin glows against the crisp white, and he carries himself differently while wearing them. Shoulders back, chest out, masculinity dripping from every pore. Fresh shaven, not a single hair out of place, the subtle hardness of his jaw, and gleam in his eye, paired with the pride of the highly decorated uniform he wore—it got you wet. You weren’t sure if you wanted to send a thank-you card to the inventor of dress whites or slap them. Another part of you was so glad they were paraded out occasionally, and this time it was for a happy celebration. “See something you like darlin?” He sets the cup down on the counter, approaching the bed. That easy grin, complete with dimples and eye crinkles beams down at you when he bumps against the mattress, and you turn over onto your back. “I do like you.” “That keeps me going. Every single day baby.” He braces over you, capturing your mouth in a slow easy kiss. One kiss turns into two, three, and you stop counting, losing your train of thought when his hands slide under your dress lifting it to your hips. “This also keeps me going,” his hands slide up between your thighs cupping the warmth between your legs. Fingers slide against the lace of your panties, teasing through the damp that had gathered. He groans against the softness of your thigh, that slow lingering touch continuing. “You get so wet for me so easily. Fucking love that.” His weight leaves your body long enough to undo the buttons of his uniform shirt, carefully hanging it on the back of the computer chair. “Jake, they’re going to notice if we’re late.” “It’s fine,” he murmurs, his warm hands returning to your body, easing your panties down. “I want to take care of my girl. Then we’ll go down and party with everyone else.” His mouth teases along your folds. “Come on baby. Let me do this for you.” He licks, dragging his tongue slowly against you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, and he nudges your legs further apart with his shoulders. Jake is on you like a man starved, licking and kissing at your pussy. His fingers rub soft circles on your hips, drawing you closer. You can feel his jaw working as his tongue slides into you. Your back arches, hands tightening ins his hair. His nose grinds against your clit as he devours you. His tongue is replaced by two fingers, expertly curling deep inside as they thrust into you. He groans softly, licking slick from your thighs. “Fuck being social, I want to watch you like this. You look so good on my fingers baby.” You laugh breathlessly, pleasure washing over you. He’s taking you higher and higher, warmth coursing through you, body on edge, trembling. Jake eases a third finger in, using the thickness to stretch you further. His name falls from your lips, and you’re coming hard as he hits that spot inside of you over and over. Tightening around his fingers, he continues to fuck them into you, coaxing moans and whimpers from you. His fingers curl again, pressing deeper, your hips rising off the bed, rocking against him. A second orgasm rages through you even as you’re whimpering and trembling from the force of the first. Everything spirals higher, tighter and you’re crying out wordlessly for him as you come again. You can feel your body clench, releasing completely and you squirt. You cover your face with your hands, panting, embarrassed at your response. “Oh baby…” he murmurs, fingers sliding from your spent pussy. You drip from his chin, the collar of his undershirt soaked. He licks his lips, bringing his fingers to his mouth sucking them clean. “I’m going to need you to do that again.” You peek up at him from between your fingers, catching sight of that wicked grin and hungry eyes. “Again?” He nods. “I need you soak my dick.” He’s reaching for his belt buckle, and you know there’s no way you’re rejoining the party any time soon. 

[leoluved]

It's my bday today 😊 can I request for headcanons or fic whichever you prefer for what the moon boys will do on readers bday? (I love coffee and desserts just lettin' you know haha) thank you so much!

birthday celebrations

summary: the boys n the way they celebrate ur birthday! warnings: established relationship, think that's it, i hope u had a very merry happy birthday, anon! ty for the request :') word count: 563

steven 𖦹

- if there’s one thing steven likes doing, is making sure you feel loved. your birthday? don’t get me started this man will go all out for you 

- balloons in the air, confetti all around the flat, gifts on the table. many gifts. 

- steven actually takes the time to learn how to bake your favorite cake, he asked you a couple months before the day to seem “unsuspecting”

- all three of them use a different wrapping paper so you can tell which gift is from who - steven’s wrapping paper is a classic brown paper bag material. he likes to sketch on his own design and make it personal  - you love every single years drawing and cut them out to save them  - he usually draws something new every year, but in a corner of the gifts box you always catch a drawing of a mini you. it’s adorable. 

marc 𖦹

- marc’s a lil trickier with birthdays, he knows what’s a celebration should look like, should feel like but he always thinks he’s the downer at the party - he wants to let steven take care of it, but he knows it would probably look bad on his part - he always asks you to write him a list of things you want, like a wishlist, any single thing you put on that list is gonna be at the flat by the end of the day. - and i mean everything, you write down whatever it is ur lil heart can desire on a post it and marc will scramble to get everything. he’ll do it in time to get flowers too.  - even though he feels like he doesn’t bring much to your birthday he loves the way your eyes lit up at the most simple things, like your reaction when he handed you your favorite coffee order that morning  - marc’s wrapping paper is a classic white with a colorful happy birthday on it, he thinks it’s cute and truthfully speaking it’s the first roll of paper he picked up

jake 𖦹

- for birthdays there’s a hispanic song called las mañanitas. it’s lively and jake’s favorite thing imaginable is waking you up and seeing your face when he walks through into your room.  - his own lil cake in hand, its tres leches. he insisted you try it. music blasting as he’s singing along and you can’t kept but beam at him the second he walks in  - of course you were expecting it. he does it every year, you even managed to snag enough words to sing along with him.  - while marc and steven prefer to do at home celebrations, jake is the one who takes you out.  - he lets you go on a shopping spree and pick whatever you like. takes you out to a beautiful classy dinner date at the end of the night.  - this man is at your beck and call, he will do anything and everything you say. even things you don’t say, if you’re looking at something too long. blink and it’ll be in ur hands i promise  you know which gifts are jake’s because after a couple years he decided to stop using wrapping paper all together.  - “i’m pretty transparent. why should my gifts be hiding anything? i want you to see them.” - he always challenges himself to get better gifts than his alters heh

[starlighthan]

[21:05] ALWAYS SAFE — hwang hyunjin

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k words

note: this is for @neo-shitty​’s collab, 24/8! i am so excited to read other’s works! i enjoyed writing this, thank you so much for this opportunity <33

tag list: @plutominho

© starlighthan - all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

“Do you have any plans on getting out of here?”

“It’s still early!”

“Shush! We might get kicked out!” The man beside you covers your mouth right away. 

Even at this hour, the two of you spend time in the library. Hyunjin sketches random things he sees around or whatever idea pops up in his head, while you—having drawing abilities that are not on the same level as Hyunjin's—read novels and comics on these four walls.

It’s a calming atmosphere for both of you. You satisfy yourself and complete your books-to-read list by reading almost every material here, and Hyunjin gets to pour all of his creativity on paper in peace. Occasionally, you talk about what just happened in the middle of your leisure—like an exciting and breath-taking chapter that flashed right before your eyes or an amazing detail that Hyunjin got to accomplish without scrapping his first attempt on his drawing.

Hyunjin, being a nocturnal and a homebody, often asks you if it would be fine to spend the rest of the night at home. You'll be doing the same thing, except that you’re in your very comfortable apartment a few blocks away from this library. He doesn’t like staying outside way too long—the two of you might be in danger when the darkest time of the night falls. 

Yes, he’s also concerned that he’ll be in danger. Not just you. The two of you are very clumsy, so nobody’s safe.

The two of you look around. There aren’t that many people in the library compared to earlier this afternoon. Luckily, nobody held any of your shoulders and complained about the noise you made. These people are too busy with their work, all of them drowning themselves in papers and books, just like you. The only difference here is that you’re not doing it out of stress.

Your hand under his, he smoothly rubs the top of your hand. He always thought that your hands were as soft as a baby’s. It always feels like he’s in heaven with your touch.

“Shall we go?” His question makes you look at him. His eyes shining from the dim lights above you gave you a thought that maybe you’re in an indie romance film. Everything feels so secretive and full of passion. It’s just between the two of you only.

You nod, trying to hide a big smile on your face. You know that there will be a thrill later once you’re out of this library. No matter how simple or challenging your way home, something fun and absurd happens.

Pulling your bags and putting your things back in a dash, Hyunjin pulls you towards the doors. With an abrupt stop on his feet, you accidentally trip on the steps towards the cemented ground outside. Fortunately, you did not fall face first this time.

“_____! Are you okay?” He gently slips his arm on your waist, the other arm slowly caressing your face. “You’re lucky that you didn’t fall that hard. I’d be so mad at myself if you get any wound on yourself.”

“Don’t worry. It happens once a day, at least,” you chuckle. You pull down his entangled hands around you, giving yourself a chance to clean yourself and brush off any dirt from your clothes. 

You did not feel electrified by Hyunjin’s touch on your face and body—you did not. The lack of any sensation in yourself feels so unusual. But you cannot deny that his touches did something to you, aside from his immediate concern over that incident. Stop denying that happened.

“You’re getting red. We should head home.” Hyunjin slips his hoodie out of him and hands it to you. You’re blushing, nice. You cannot believe that you still get flustered because of this man.

Pushing away from the hoodie and his hands, you shake your head. “I’m all good. You didn’t have to remove that. We’ll head home soon anyways. I could heat myself after our little trip.”

His hand is on yours again, and you feel that buzz again. There it is, for another time. Is it because it’s chilly tonight? “No, we’re not going to walk home. I’m going to get a taxi.”

“Are there any cabs in this hour here?” You slowly follow his steps, his hand still entangled in yours. The street in front of the library is narrow—you’re not sure if any vehicle passes here. There isn’t even any space for parking.

Hyunjin glances at you. “Of course, there is,” the two of you walk past the library gates, pointing to the intersection nearby, “we’ll always do something to make that happen.”

With a satisfying sigh, you are impressed. Hyunjin doesn’t usually respond like this and resorts to asking you about your plan and panicking. Nodding, you respond, “Right, right. You’re correct this time. We’ll do something, yes.” 

“Finally using your brain, Hwang?” You bump your hips to him, teasing him. Do you think you’re going to take this seriously? Of course not! 

Groaning, he bumped you back with his hips, almost making you trip once again on the pavement. “I’m so sorry! _____, we shouldn’t form a streak of tripping, please.”

“Yeah, you better. It’s a miracle that you haven’t messed up tonight,” you pinch Hyunjin's cheeks, receiving a dramatic whine from him. “Maybe the skies are telling you that you’re too cute which is why you haven’t gone to any accident tonight. What an advantage.”

Your comment leaves Hyunjin a long round of giggles, swinging your hand while walking to the end of the road, meeting the intersection.

The adorable look on Hyunjin right now makes your heart leap. The jacket he took off on top of his shoulder, a big smile on his face, his cute shoulder bag hanging around, and his hand on yours. He has no idea that he affects you by simply existing. The buzzing from his touch is coming back once again.

You thought that you wouldn’t dare to walk at the pedestrian here near the intersection. The city is so alive in this area. You did not know about this, especially since you usually go in the opposite direction on your way home.

A taxi stops in front of you, Hyunjin got to hail a taxi right away? You hold on to his hand more, making you feel more flustered than ever.

“Get in! Let’s go!” Hyunjin enthusiastically says, carefully placing his head over yours. He tries not to make you hit yourself on the door frame like you always do. He often says that he wouldn’t be surprised that there would be lots of dents on your head in a few years because of this. “Lower down, don’t hit your head as usual.”

Smirking, you got to sit down comfortably in the taxi. Patting the seat next to you, your boyfriend slowly gets into the taxi.

When the driver asks where you’ll be going, Hyunjin answers for you and proceeds to put your head on his shoulder. “We’ll be going to Maya St. We’re gonna get some dinner before going home.”

“I thought we’re going straight home already?” You tilt your head to see Hyunjin above you. “What are we ordering?”

“Let’s get some noodles, baby. I don’t want you starving,” he pats your head. “The last time you ate was earlier this noon before we went to the library.”

Reaching out for his hand, you respond, “That’d be nice. You're tired of my panini?”

Chuckling, he gets your hand and traces whatever on your palm, “I don’t, _____. I just want to get something different tonight, you know?”

With his touch lulling you to sleep, you mumble, “Yeah, great idea. I’ll pay for that later.” 

Lightly shaking his head, Hyunjin whispers, “I’ll cover it, don’t think about it.”

Smiling, he glances at you and looks back to the window beside him. He seriously wouldn’t know what to do without you. You’ve been the most caring and you made him feel secure. He’s secure enough with you, and he’s very contented with that.

He hopes you wouldn’t mind the seafood noodles later, he brought some antihistamine just in case you’d get the allergies. He even thought it’d be entertaining to see you suffer from the very spicy noodles he might order for himself later. Either way, he’s gonna take care of you whether you like it or not. He’s in love with you for way too long to let you take care of yourself.

He chuckles and decides to say it to you directly, “I love you very much, _____. Thank you for being with me always.”

[introloves]

🦷: Okayy but daddy Iwa leaving his baby with mattsun while he’s gone like bo does and mattsun taking such good care of iwa’s little girl,,and if mattsun can’t Iwa will reluctantly leave her w makki who’s so much meaner 🥺🥺

— dom! matsukawa + sub space + teasing + mentions of pain + predator/prey dynamics + slight hair pulling + mentions of fear + masochist reader + size kink + dacryphilia + big dick + heavy breath play + choking + praise + creampie + petname (bunny) + f! reader

— word count: 2.6k

he looked her over, unable to stop the smirk from forming. shy eyes made his chest swell in a primal swirl of lust. already so sweet for him, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“y/n.”

“hm?” your voice answered back in a small hum, cute and shy. he couldn’t help but let a shiver crawl up his back at the thought of how you’d sound broken and whining just like that for him.

but he was being too forward, no wonder why iwaizumi had asked to leave you in his care- you were dangerously alluring.

you were here to be taken care of, and what he wanted might not match up to what you wanted, he’d test the waters first.

grabbing your hand gently, making sure to not startle you all too bad- letting you know it was okay, there was nothing to be embarrassed or shy about; the plan was set out, in detail- by hajime.

the thought of leaving you alone while he joined his team out of the country wasn't something he liked to entertain- you were supposed to be taken care of at all times, even when he couldn't. that's why this arrangement was drawn up. it was something mattsun could do.

he led you to his room, motioning to where the bathroom, kitchen- where all the necessities were. his house was small; enough for him and now for you, it was where you would be staying at… and you were grateful.

“its not much… but its comfortable.” the tone and smoothness of his voice eased you further- the slowly oscillating timbre of notes made you melt.

you nodded, smiling a little, bending your head in appreciation.

it squeezed at his heart, the way you were so polite and kind, a sweet little thing he couldn’t believe belonged to iwaizumi.

it made sense, you’d made the comment on how you liked men that could protect, men who would put you on your knees by just a look… and he so deeply hoped he fit that criteria.

in private, you knew he was- he was tall and big, taller than your hajime, maybe not as thick, not as built, but his presence still made your knees shake.

you let yourself watch him from the corner of your eyes, watching him walk forward, settling down the bag he’d taken from you on his bed… in all honesty, you’d seen his couch- and someone as big as him would not have a pleasant time sleeping on it… but you didn't know where he was going to draw the line.

you’d hope he’d stay, hope he’d cuddle you and make you feel good… sleeping alone was not familiar to you.

being alone was an ugly thought, it was exhausting and horrible. being spoiled made you greedy and needy- all in one. a pretty thing iwa was proud of, always showing you off.

you needed someone, and you wholly agreed to be pretty and good for issei.

“okay bunny.” he sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, looking at you.

the petname sent little prickles of heat down your back, making you dizzy and complaint, it triggered a nice and comfy haze clouding your mind.

“time for bed?” he asked, watching the slow blink of your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly- slipping into that sweet headspace.

oh…

iwaizumi really had you trained well.

he was going to have so much fun with you.

“what do you want, pretty girl.” issei questioned, leaning forwards elbows on his thighs; looking at you like a good meal, something he was very eagerly waiting to take a bite out of- lower lip glistening with saliva as he passed his thick tongue over it.

it made you take a step forward, a pretty bunny falling right into the claws of something big and mean- being devoured came easiest for you.

“take care of me.” you whispered, placing two shaky hands on his shoulders. broad frame, nice and sturdy, warm and strong. everything a little bunny like you needed for security.

his lips curled into a pleasant smile, canines glistening under the light of his room, smirking at your sweet words.

“ah- you want me to take care of you?” mattsun’s voice was laced with inquisition, wanting to hear another note of confirmation.

“yes please. haji said you would.” you responded, pouting at the slight teasing, but quickly warming up when those hands of his wrapped around your sides. it felt real easy, tugging you onto his lap.

“oh, bunny i will.” he assured, thinking over his next words.

“i just… you know the difference between me and iwaizumi… right?” there was small apprehension, felt like he was trying to piece together words that wouldn’t scare you off. shaking your head slightly, they did everything but that- luring you in with the promise of something dangerous, something exciting.

it was really cute- he could hear your heart pound from where he was, watching your face scrunch up, leaning into him.

“if you want me to take care of you, i need to let you know- i’m a lot bigger than him.” matsukawa huffed, sliding the hold on your sides down to your hips, groaning at the warmth and softness molding under his palms.

“and i dont fuck like he does.”

the smooth timbre of his voice turned gravely, growling out those last few words, bringing your body to his- entrapping you in all of him. he let himself grace your neck, lips just barely touching- letting you back away at the challenge.

but you were a greedy thing, the small hint of danger electrifying every nerve in your body. thighs jumping around his lap, squirming.

he says it like a warning, but all it does is excite you. the promise of him fucking you doenst let you focus on anything else.

mattsun feels your squirming, sees the way you bite at your lips, pupils dilating as you watch him, wide eyes roaming his face.

he's the one who starts the grind, tightening the hold, shifting to sit back slightly; pushing you against the length already hard and heavy in his pants.

this is his favorite part, seeing the surprise- eagerly watching for the look of pure shock. maybe you're finally feeling the heavy severity of the situation, maybe it's a jolt of arousal that makes your eyes shake, lips parting in amazement at being sat on his big cock.

whichever one it is, it makes your head tip back, huffing out a tiny noise of surprise and want.

it feels so big, even now, just sat on his cock through his. pants and your bottoms and it's all just so-

“oh!”

throbbing cunt passing over a ridge, catching over your puffy clit, knowing it's the swell of his cockhead. it makes you weak, tipping forward, tugging at his shirt.

issei chuckles in response, warm hand traveling up your back, curling against your head. there's a tiny moment of reprieve- sits there, watching your shoulders tense up before he tugs.

it's gentle at first, admiring how you shape yourself perfectly for him, going limp as soon as he does, but just like you- he's a greedy man and pulls- back bowing against him. with clenched teeth at how you squirm, he hisses;

“what is it bunny?” what's got you makin’ those pretty sounds?”

there's already tears forming against your lashes, the feeling of your cunt freely gliding against the pool of arousal lying wetly right on your panties makes everything that more… exciting. if he's able to bring you to this state by just tugging at your hair… the thought makes you desperate or what else he could do to you.

“you! it's you ‘sei! don't want you to tease- take. care. of. me.” you mewl, exasperated at his actions.

he's so close- you can feel his cock pulse under him, and you want nothing more than to be split open.

but your sweet little tantrum simply makes him laugh, bringing your throat to his mouth, teeth grazing sweetly against the thrum of your pulse.

“little bunny… you’ve got some fight, hm?” he whispers, letting you go with a quick little bite- a reminder, something to let you know to calm yourself.

usually he’d take his time- reduce you into a mess of cum and tears and spit until you’re crying out for him, and even then he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. however, issei would play nice for now, knowing your little outburst was all due to the want for him. it made his heart thump loudly against his ribs.

“it’s okay- i’ll fuck it out of you.” mattsun groans.

you tense up at his words- the throbbing against the spot where he nipped keeping a heavy reminder, impatience didn't look pretty on you.

he lets a hand leave the warmth of your hips, thumb digging into the side of your cheek impatiently, keeping your head tilted to look at him- the tension in your scalp lessens and you're aware of the direction his other hand is traveling.

the sound of his belt clinking, button popping open, and zipper falling makes you squeak. whole body lighting up, pressing your cunt right against the hand working to release him from his pants.

“please!”

the word slips from your lips involuntarily, and once again, he lets the slip up go. there would be time to teach you to wait, to earn what he gives you.

using the grip he already has on your face, he picks you up, a show of strength tugging you up by your face to give his cock room to be released. your knees shakily hit either side of the bed around his body, hips tipping forward- giving him space, but even then, you feel the tip of his cock brush against your pussy.

a high, shaky sound of air leaving your lungs in a shocked whimper makes his cock jump heavily- your hands landing by your face as you stare, chest heaving- weight of his hand falls from your face, down to your neck, pressing you deep into the bed.

the thrum of fear peaks once more, exaggerating another gush of arousal, this time running down your ass- no longer caught by your panties.

“pretty.” is all he says, squeezing once, watching your legs jump. his thumb swipes up against your cheek to catch a stray tear. he wants to make a remark about your skittish muscles, working against you to tense up with every movement he makes, but the heavy lust burning in his stomach doesn't let him.

“breathe in for me- it’ll hurt less if you do.”

there’s sick pleasure watching you nod, so eager to do what he says just to be hurt in order to take him all. he wastes no time in order to tug your bottoms off, impatiently working with only one hand, all while he keeps his eyes on your face. its all a frenzy of want.

he wanted to take you like an animal, wanted to make it hurt- wanted to break your soft mind, but he resists. it’ll be fine for now, the time to play how he wants could happen at a later time.

the head of his cock meets heavy resistance, slickened by the never ending stream of arousal leaking out of your wanting hole- it makes it a little more bearable. you such in a breath, just like he says, tongue heavy with the weight of it playing against your cunt.

he was right, he was right and now your heart beat loudly in your chest at the feeling of him pressing in more and more- he was bigger than your hajime, and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

“m-more!” you gasp, impatiently waiting with the slow pace he's taking you. hands clawing at the hand still wrapped firmly around your throat, legs thumping over and over on either side of him.

it takes him back, gasping at the slight tilt of your hips seeking more of him, his eyebrows pinch together in amusement and surprise.

you were proving to be more of a challenge than he thought- but he did as he was told for now, shifting down to really pin you.

“pretty girl, so dirty- you keep surprisin’ me.” he grunts, watching your body lie pliant, mouth hanging open in a desperate and now silent plea.

he counts to three before lessening up, blinking at the way you shoot up to take a heavy gulp of air.

“good bunny.” he seethes, trying to keep up with your greedy cunt, fluttering around him as he pushes in and in and in.

its so good, nails digging into the arm still trapping your upper body down onto the bed, drooling as your tongue lulls out.

you’re hot and wound up, pooling sweat dripping down against your clothes, smushed against his mattress.

the first slam of his hips inside makes you sob, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of all the tension leaving your body, a reaction to being fucked so hard. you can feel him make a noise of appreciation at that, pushing his weight- using it to fuck you down onto the bed.

“so good- such a greedy pussy, only satisfied when it's being pounded like this- hm?”

issei emphasizes his words with an increasing tempo, barely giving himself time to breathe, drunk on your cunt- the pretty sounds you're making, the way your eyes have rolled to the back of your head, small hands no longer grabbing at his wrist.

you're creaming around him, already cuming at just mintues of being given what you so desperately begged for.

“issei! ‘sei!”

it sounds so pretty leaving your mouth in this breathy pitch and it's getting to him, the building orgasm crawling towards him at a rapid pace.

he releases the hold on your neck to grab desperately at your hips, arching your back against him while you jolt, body receiving the shock of his pistoning hips- slapping heavily onto your thighs, mixing with the loud squelch and squeal singing from your body.

you can’t will your muscles to contract any longer, already cuming once more at the change in position, weakly crying out his name- sweet and fucked out, babbling the consonants of his name over and over again.

“good girl- c-cuming so pretty for me.” he pants, teeth clashing together as he pushes past the resistance of your walls once more, sheathing his cock inside in a final attempt to make it hurt. he knows he’s successful when you lift up off the bed, choking out a warbling scream.

his body seizes, matching the feverish way you’re spasming around his body.

the heated, spurt of cum inside your cunt comes in thick ropes and you exhale in response, turning your head left to right as you receive it all- take it all in your battered, swollen walls.

he stays right where he stops, head hooked down, eyes looking at the cream of cum splattered on the stretched out lips of your cunt.

“fuck.” he gasps, slowly coming back from the overwhelming burst of pleasure.

“are you okay?” matsukawa asks, eyes softening at the way you slowly open your eyes, blinking hot tears from your lashes.

you cant respond verbally just yet, giving him a nod, a small tilt of your head before dropping your legs- finally relaxing.

he sees why you need this every night, you're glowing- covered in sweat and a sweet smile playing at your lips.

“so good- thank you issei.” you sing, already ready to sleep- and with the almost devious curl of your lips, he swears you- the sweet bunny he brought into his home was more predator than prey.

“play with me some more... later- please.” you hum, shivering at the globs of cum cooling against your stretched cunt, all before you sigh and close your eyes, looking for that sweet sleep.

matsukawa stays up a bit later, giving iwaizumi a quick text- asking if you would ever truly be satisfied, and the response he gets sends a prickle of heat curling against his neck-

fuck her unconscious or else she’ll keep wanting more.

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