#it locked its jaw around my nose and upper lip

[kitticula]

healing from brain damage is definitely the worst injury ive ever had to heal from so far 😞 this shit is so difficult yall

[hunny-beann]

Worship; Devastation

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

Synopsis: Prince Loki gets some ideas regarding worship upon witnessing his lover in the particularly ethereal lighting of his bathing quarters...

And honestly, what is worship if not laying your utterly devastating touch upon your lover just to watch them unfurl before you?

Or, alternatively:

Devotion, reverence, and veneration at the hands of a god in 3,800 words or less

Note: Welcome back to the smut fest! Similarly to my last Loki smut fic, I also wrote a great deal of this one very early in the morning, so my apologies for any errors that I didn't manage to spot and edit out. I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Semi graphic NSFW, vulgarity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

She sat, naked as the day she she had been born, upon the edge of the royal bathing pool reserved solely for her beloved, the warm water lapping gently at her ankle as she leaned back on her forearms, right knee bent so one foot rested on the rune etched lip of the younger prince's extravagant bath.

It felt very Loki indeed, to have bathing quarters that seemed far more like a swimming pool than a tub, and she relished in the energy of the space, each detail reminding her of the man who floated gracefully in the waters just beneath her.

If her eyes were not closed at that very moment, she was certain that she would be unable to help but stare at him, not with the distracting way that his hair splayed out upon the surface of the water, or that his skin all but shone in the morning sun that doused the two of them from the skylight above.

This was not her first morning bath with him, far from it in fact, but as she basked in the sunlight, she still felt herself jump when a familiar hand wrapped around the ankle that dangled within the water, her eyes flying open to find his stunning blues already awaiting her gaze.

And oh, what a sight he made.

There he was, Prince Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief, entirely bare within the warm waters of his bath, and submerged to his upper arms, revealing his strong shoulders, angular jaw, and sharp collar bones, all of which dripped almost tantalizingly with slow moving droplets of water, which clung to his skin in a manner that nearly made her jealous of them.

He looked up at her with an earnest curiosity and something that almost bordered on vulnerability, his grip loosening but not quite fading from her ankle as his thumb began to stroke the flesh just above where the water ceased to lap at her.

Eager to find out what had caught the attention of her lover, she leaned forward, placing her hand atop his own as she tilted her head in a silent question that she soon vocalized in spite of her subtle gestures.

"Is there something wrong, dear prince?"

She asked, her voice quiet and with an almost breathless quality that only seemed fitting for such a peaceful morning.

In reply, Loki simply placed his free hand on the lip of the bath and used that as leverage to pull himself ever closer to her, his other detaching from its wrapped position around her ankle so he could move it upward, fingertips craving the feeling of more of her soft skin beneath them.

Meanwhile, she watched him with a curiosity of her own, taking in with a vast gratitude unknown to the man just beneath her the details of his person, from the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose, to those that rested upon his shoulders, all the way up to the curve of his brow and the way that his black locks looked when slicked back from both the water and the way he had inevitably run his hands through them.

"Not quite."

Loki answered, his voice low and still slightly thickened by his semi-recently halted slumber, though those eyes of his swam with a subtle amusement that betrayed how much he and his lover's conjoined time in the bathing quarters had energized him.

"I simply desired to ensure that I wasn't still dreaming."

He continued, expression remaining slightly awe-filled as he looked up at her from the waters not far below, his once less occupied hand coming to rest upon her previously bent leg, which was now lowered alongside the other into the water as she continued to sit upon the bath's edge, his fingers kissing her damp flesh with a well known gentleness that had her sighing out softly, a small smile finding her lips.

He watched her with such fondness, such peace that not so long ago, she would have thought was entirely unknown to him, and he had believed he would never find nor understand.

How wrong they had been.

And how grateful they were for that fact now that they each knew the touch of the other, the love of them.

And as she looked into her darling prince's eyes she was reminded of that love, even as she could not help but smile at his familiar dramatics, her hand reaching down to curl some of his hair behind his ear, allowing her touch to linger briefly upon his jaw before she moved back once more.

"And why would you think yourself still slumbering, my dear?"

She wondered aloud, half anticipating a peaceful silence to follow, only to find herself pleased when Loki's all consuming voice filled the room shortly afterward.

"Have you ever seen your love illuminated by a halo of morning sunlight?"

He questioned gently, his hands still creeping ever upward, now resting upon her knees as he awaited her response with a patience that felt foreign to her when acted out by him, though she certainly did not complain.

As her reply to her prince's immensely endearing question, she hummed, watching the way that the sun cast its light upon him in an almost ethereal manner, reminding her once more of his nature.

She smiled,

"I believe that I have. Quite often, in fact."

Loki's expression of adoration continued as he watched her fondly, a slight smile finding his perfect lips, curving them upward in that manner his love adored so ceaselessly.

"I see."

He drawled slowly, fingers massaging slow circles into her lower thighs all the while,

"Then surely you can understand why I've been enraptured so."

He reasoned, placing a gentle kiss to the side of her knee as he watched for her reaction, noting the way that she shivered slightly beneath his touch, still not quite used to him, even after years of his hands lovingly caressing her skin at each and every opportunity.

He selfishly hoped, in that moment, that she might not ever come to be, just so he could continue to bear witness to the way that her body, mind, and soul reacted to his affections forevermore.

In response to Loki's gentle words and teasing ministrations, his love sighed contentedly, her flesh reacting as if chilled in spite of the warm water still lapping at her ankles.

She allowed herself a moment to bask in the closeness of him before reaching to cup his jaw again with a smile, tracing the now abandoned path of a droplet of water that had made its way from his hair down to the bridge of his nose, where it had spilled over the side and ran along his cheekbone before ultimately losing momentum and fading to nothingness in the warmth of sunlight, leaving only a faint shimmer of dampness in its wake.

She watched him for a few moments, eyes looking fearlessly and familiarly into those ever softening blues until finally, she spoke up once more, seemingly having gotten her fill of the peaceful silence.

"I suppose that I can, yes."

She replied to his previous statement, fingers moving from his cheek down to his jaw where they traced the sharpness of it gently, as if afraid it might truly cut, or perhaps as a woman in love might do to the object of her affections.

Perhaps so, indeed.

The younger prince hummed happily in response to her touch, something akin to a purr rumbling deep in his chest as he pushed as close as to her as he could manage, both hands moving to her knees in order to place the backs of them upon his muscular shoulders, thus allowing him to them wrap his arms around them from below, his long and lithe fingers finding firm purchase upon her thighs as he did so, pulling her ever closer to the edge of the bathing pool,

closer to him.

And though he was certain that she had noticed, his darling did not complain, simply watching Loki with an amused gleam in her eye as he leaned his head against her thigh, expression almost dreamy as he watched her, taking in the vision of beauty that she was, now doused fully in the morning sunlight.

"Perfection."

He murmured gently, fingers dancing upon her skin as he pressed kiss after kiss to the thigh on which his head rested. And though she felt his smile as he did so, growing almost imperceptibly with each individual graze of his lips, she did not know why until he pulled away from her ever so slightly.

"Although,"

He began to say upon doing just that, eyes finding hers once more, allowing her to see the familiar sparkle of mischief that shone there,

"I do believe this means we have a problem, darling."

His voice was all but a purr now, low and rumbling with a certain level of mock concern to it that made his dearest love flounder slightly, gaze locked with his own as if the two of them were in contest with one another for who could see into the other's soul first.

Not that she could ever stand a chance, not against him.

"You see,"

Loki continued, both sets of his fingers pressing into the supple skin of her thighs as he massaged his way upward, eyes never leaving hers all the while, her body having long since been memorized by his hands.

"Perfection is meant to be worshiped."

He murmured, moving his head slightly to press a kiss to her opposite thigh before he pinched at the former deftly, causing his lover to gasp and jump slightly beneath him, a blush growing evident upon her cheeks.

He chuckled at her reaction, humming low in his throat as he continued to press his soft lips to her flesh, allowing them to linger long enough that there was no question of what his touch was meant to convey.

Gentleness, affection, love, desire, and a constant and heady hunger, one that all but drove him to madness each time he laid eyes upon his beloved.

Her breaths shuddered in response to his persistent touch, and she allowed their locked gazes to break as she leaned her head back upon her shoulders, fingers gripping tightly to the lip of the pool as she did her best to find her voice once more, having lost it upon the very moment his lips had pressed against her, as she always did.

"Are you saying that you wish to worship me, Prince Loki?"

She breathed out after several long seconds of silence, chest heaving slightly as she finally allowed her eyes to open once more, finding his almost immediately as he smirked against her upper thigh, his hands having moved to massage the outsides of them soothingly, keeping them poised atop his shoulders so he could control just how spread they remained for him.

He shook his head in response to her words, tutting slightly before nipping where she had expected him to present her with a kiss, causing her to gasp yet again as he chuckled and lapped gently at her soft flesh with that typically oh so sharp tongue of his.

"Oh no, dear heart."

He purred, spreading her thighs even wider in order to gain a proper view of her arousal, knowing all too well the blush that was no doubt ravaging her cheeks just outside of his view in response.

He leaned in further, ignoring the urge to lay his gaze upon her disastrously beautiful face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her bare heat, smirking to himself as he felt her begin to tremble impatiently as he did so.

He had spoiled her throughout the years, after all, never one to make her wait when she made her desire for him so plainly known. And he was truly quite proud of what a mess he had made of her once so vast patience, because what else did that show if not how wonderfully he'd treated her? How high he'd set her standards simply by virtue of ravaging her at nearly every available opportunity?

She was all but ruined for anyone else, that was for certain.

And if the prince had his way (as he so frequently did), that would never even come close to changing.

He laughed softly against her as he continued, his tongue moving up and down the outsides of her folds as he teased her relentlessly, always so eager to see her squirm at least a little before he gave her what she wanted.

He was not, after all, known for being the kindest nor the most merciful god,

And he could never quite resist the urge to remind his lover of that fact, even if just for a moment or two.

And that he did, ignoring her increasing number of quiet pleas as he pressed onward, spreading her wider before him as he separated her glistening folds to find the treasure that lied just within, which he teased without mercy until her legs shook upon his shoulders and her hands started to scramble for purchase atop the marble adorned floors of his bathing quarters.

Then, and only then, as she so plainly became a quivering mess before him, did he finally meet her gaze once more, relishing the look of her glazed over eyes, heaving chest, and slightly parted lips with a truly immense sense of pride.

The vision of her like this all for him was always so very worth the wait, and he thanked the stars that he had been blessed with enough patience to manage it (at least on occasion).

And then finally, as he saw her eyes begin to focus and felt her body relax ever so slightly beneath the coaxing of his still massaging hands, he spoke up again, answering his darling's long since abandoned question with a taunting amount of ease.

"I do not wish to worship you,"

He began, grinning wolfishly up at her as he pinched at those supple thighs once more, dragging his fingers achingly close to where she no doubt desired them without ever even considering the idea of going easy on her just yet.

No, not when he still had so much left to say.

He let a heavy silence fill the bathing quarters for a moment, broken up only by the sounds of his love's breathing and the dripping of water from behind him, always present and typically soothing in the normal circumstances of his morning bath.

Though today, he paid them no mind,

He had no need to be calmed, after all.

And then finally, just as his dearest love started to bite her lip in an effort to keep from pleading with her prince to give her more, he continued, bringing a finger up to circle her entrance as he did so, allowing him to revel in the sight of her arching her back for him, pressing ever closer in spite of the all too real threat of tumbling into the water alongside him.

She'd had very little desire to get wet that morning according to the excuse she had given him earlier on when asked through pouting lips why she would not join her lover in the bath.

Though, Loki supposed, it seemed as if he had ruined any goal she had of staying dry long ago, so perhaps she cared far less for such trivialities now.

He did not bother to ask, and instead chose to continue his now well drawn out statement from before.

"You see, my dear,"

He started, gathering some of her wetness onto his middle finger as he continued, enjoying the sounds of her whimpering beneath him far too much for his own well-being, let along hers.

"It is much more of a need, I'm afraid."

He purred softly, a false pout finding his lips even as he pushed his finger into her slick entrance, fighting back a groan as she all but sucked him in, always so ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give her.

He chuckled as she cried out in response, her head falling back to her shoulders once more as he began to pump a single long and dexterous finger in and out of her ceaselessly, adding in a second just as she started to wiggle her hips in that silent request for more.

"What a good girl you are."

He cooed teasingly, watching while she shivered at the sound of his voice, eyes squeezed shut as she fought to stave off an embarrassingly quick orgasm in response to his ministrations.

He had only just taken her this morning, after all, so how could she ever hope to look him in the eye again if she came so quickly even just after he had taken her upon his mattress?

Still, the prince had every intention of showing her exactly how helpless she was to his every touch, and rather than letting up when seeing her obvious attempts to hold back from letting go for him, he increased the speed of his fingers instead and crooked them upward slightly until he heard her gasp and felt her thighs tighten around his head from where they still resided atop his strong shoulders.

"Oh dear,"

He murmured, feigning surprise as he watched his beloved struggle not to simply give into her pleasures.

"Close already?"

He teased, watching her expression as she whined and writhed for him, his fingers never letting up even as he stretched her further upon adding a third, the feeling of which sent her mind reeling.

He was so good at this, too good, and who was she to deny a prince of what he wanted? Could she truly hope to?

Loki evidently thought not, and remained persistent, pacing his thrusts and ensuring that he was constantly hitting just the right spots inside of her, never one to give a lackluster performance, even so very early in the morning and so soon after his last.

Speaking of which...

"Even after this morning?"

He crooned, continuing his recent thought with even more mock surprise,

"Are you truly so sensitive, my love?"

He asked curiously, just barely holding back a groan as he watched the woman he adored so achingly arch her back even further, pressing ever closer to him, body so very eager to submit, and mind evidently not too far behind.

What a darling sight she made for, laid out and bare before him.

Now all that he had to do, Loki thought with a smirk, was strip her of her pride.

And of course, the best way to do that, was to remind her of exactly who it was that she belonged to, and just how helpless she was to his touch.

"Or, perhaps, is it something else?"

He questioned, leaning down to lick teasingly at her clit as she hissed and whined pitifully in reply, thighs trembling upon his shoulders all the while.

It was a telltale sign that she was close, though he chose not to tease her for that quite yet.

"Could it be your courses?"

Loki teased, knowing all too well exactly where his lover was within her cycle in spite of his questioning,

"Or maybe a preference for my fingers?"

He continued, watching as his darling cried out for him, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure as she grew closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

He chuckled, and, after a moment of thought, decided it was high time that he ended his charade for the time being.

"Or, my dear."

He began, groaning slightly as he felt her clench around his fingers in a way that made his engorged cock envious of their position, his mind suddenly filled with thoughts of her strangling his erection with her tight heat, her body always so eager to pull him in further and keep him there, begging for both of their releases.

Still, even with such rapturous visions flooding his mind, he managed to continue speaking, determined to remind her of why it was that she could cum so very quickly even so soon after their last tryst.

"Could it simply be how weak you are to my every touch?"

He purred, his voice devastatingly low and his eyes trained on hers as he spoke,

"How desperate you are,"

He continued, thrusting his fingers harder just to hear her cry out from beneath him,

"To feel my hands upon your flesh, and to hear my voice as I fuck you with whatever I so please into oblivion. Is that what it is?"

He growled, watching with immense pride as she threw her head back one final time upon hearing his words, her walls clenching around his fingers as she came hard only minutes after he had begun, encouraging a chuckle from her lover soon afterward when he finally pulled away, bringing his hand up to his mouth to fully taste her for the first time that morning as he gazed deep into her eyes, a moan of pleasure falling eagerly off of his lips all the while.

She blushed in response to this, but did not look away, her pride still just intact enough that she refused to let him get the better of her once more.

Loki remained like that for several rather long moments, savoring the taste of her until his fingers were clean, finally prompting him to remove them from his mouth so he could speak to her once more, though his words were no less teasing then than they'd been before.

"So, my darling."

He began, smirking as he rested his hand upon her thigh again,

"Do you have any qualms with me continuing to worship my dearest love upon this fine morning?"

He purred, his eyes lighting up eagerly when she swallowed thickly, shaking her head no in response just as he tightened his grip upon her legs.

"Perfect."

Loki replied casually, a glint of mischief entering his gaze once again just as a smirk fell to his lips.

And then, with a gentle tug, his love was falling into the water alongside him, pressed not long after to the wall of the bathing pool as his aching and engorged cock rubbed against her, all too eager to finally settle the score his fingers had recently turned in their favor.

It was no matter of course, they had all morning after all.

And an eternity after that.

Tags: @mischief2sarawr @ladymischief11 @lokisgoodgirl @superficialdomina @muddyorbsblr @villainousshakespeare @redfoxwritesstuff @buttercupcookies-blog

Note: If you would like to be added to/removed from being tagged in anything please feel more than free to let me know! <3

[ilovebuckers5]

✧.*Not Friends pt 6*.✧

Paige Bueckers x reader

summary - back to how the both of us always wanted

word count- 1k

themes:

-fluff

-smut

warnings :

-sexual content

A/N - this is super short but I felt like it was an ok way to end this series off. I HOPE YOU LIKE ITTTTT

my eyes refused to peel away from Paige's gaze while her legs were up in the air, her stomach pressed again my bed with her fingers still resting on her computer. I couldn't resist from dropping my purse on the floor, locking the door, and rushing onto the bed, crawling onto Paige's body. it felt like her arms magnetically wrapped around my back. I could feel her smile against my skin while she dug her nose in the crook of my neck. she sat up quickly, readjusting us so that I was sitting on her lap while her legs were spread about the bed. I could tell that she wanted to pull me into a kiss but I stopped her. my hands were on her almost bare shoulders. I took a moment to stare into her eyes. no where else. I felt all the stress that's ever visited my mind slip away. all my brain could comprehend was Paige's eyes. and the way her hands perfectly fit around my hips and the way her index and middle finger gently tilted in the dip between my hips and upper torso. then I would think about how my hands felt around her body. her skin was always warm, even in the winter. she was like the spark of summer I needed when I was freezing. her skin felt so right in my palms. her hair fell around her back and chest and shoulders perfectly. sometimes I just wanted to feel her hair against my bare skin. even when her hair was losing its bright blonde color and her darker roots peaked through, I couldn't get enough of her hair. of course her lips. I could never rip my eyes off of her lips when she wasn't looking and when she was looking. I constantly find myself looking at how her lips turn up when she sees me or one of her teammates. and the way her perfect teeth were on display after a win. her lips were always pink twenty four seven. even if she had just woken up with her hair tangled, eyelashes just slightly stuck together. her lips were always pink as if she just finished putting on lip gloss. her hands were slender. not extremely veining but you could see the definition. the way her hands tense up when shes feeling any emotion deeper than normally sends me over the edge. she looked like a frank ocean song when sleeping. a lana del rey song when talking. daniel caesar when she was happy. bryson tiller when mad. she looked like the perfect song that made me feel like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.

i felt her hands running across my back and thighs while I was simply encapsulated in her eyes. I didn't even notice how hard I was smiling until I looked back at her entire face and saw how red she was getting. she dipped her head down to cover her reddened cheeks but I quickly used my finger to lift her chin up. I held her jaw gently while leaning in closer and placing multiple pecks on her (yes, still pink) lips. my fingers slowly moved down her neck and chest the more Paige deepened the kiss. her hands were now moving down my hips and onto my ass, I guess this wholesome moment where I'm daydreaming about how perfect her features are is over.

i quickly tore off her tank top along with her bra. without looking, I massaged her tits in both of my hands while she tried to slide of my pants without me lifting myself up. I felt her attempts on my body and pulled my lips and hands away for a split second to take off my shorts and panties. small whines left my throat at my already dripping clit dragged across the sweatpants she was wearing. "fuck Paige." I couldn't contain a single noise I made at this point. Paige quickly stuck her lips against mine again, almost muffling each moan and groan I made. my hands wandered around her stomach and hips, also teasing around the top of her sweatpants and the boxers that peeked through. our pants began to melt with each other as I quicked my pace of grinding against her clothed lap. I couldn't take it, the feeling of emptiness in my pussy. as much as I wanted to grab her hand and fuck myself, I waited for her. eventually, she inserted two of her fingers in my wet hole, not waiting to pump in and out with a fast pace. I felt pathetic how close I already was but to be honest, who gives a fuck?

"s-shit I'm so close p." I pulled away from her lips to whine.

"cmon baby." she spoke back at me.

i began to grind onto her hand at the same place that Paige was moving her fingers. I felt my legs begin to tense up tighter and I kept a stronger grip on her waist. everything felt so right as I came on her fingers. louder moans, almost screams, left my mouth as I repeated Paige's name without caring who could hear. my legs began to shake around her hips along with my fingers. I wanted to keep going but Paige slowly removed her fingers from me. as bad as that felt, I decided to rest my forehead on Paige shoulder. she scooted herself down the bed enough for her head to rest on my pillow. I removed the bottom half of my body from hers and left my head between her shoulder and chest, getting more tired as she held onto my back. her hands were under my shirt, messing around with my bra while I was asleep. the last thing I heard before actually knocking out was Paige's softer voice speaking close to my ear.

"I love you so fucking much."

i cannot believe I even denied the fact that we are not friends. never will be now.

[fayeriess]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ FIND LOVE IN

MY CIGARETTE BOX ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

theodore nott x fem!reader

summary: tonight's smoke session with theo near the black lake feels different this time around.

warning(s): mentions of smoking, cigarette consumption, mentions about ravenclaw!reader though it's not really important. not proof-read!

a/n: take a shot every time you see the word cigarette.

Spit-soaked lips were all you knew with Theodore Nott. 

Plump, wet flesh puckering around cancerous chemicals pristinely wrapped in thin, white paper.  It's the perfect circle to close your mouth around.

A distraction — a drastic calm to pair with the maddening storm brewing within you — within your lungs as they ached. slick muscled tongue skimming over rutted edges of pearly white teeth before it rested back in place.

Squished between your upper and lower jaw was your euphoria; a cigarette —  the sole thing you’re sure you have in common with the Slytherin. If you were being completely and utterly real with yourself, a part of you secretly enjoyed your recurring rendezvous with Theo. Not just because the responsibility of conjuring a box of cigarettes on your person wasn’t yours anymore, nor the fact that you no longer had to waste your money, but because he was silent. 

Unnervingly silent. With him, you had more time to wallow in your thoughts, and you can’t quite decipher if that’s a good thing or not. 

Either way, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, especially when he glances at you through his lashes with his dead, steel-gray eyes. 

Much like he was doing now, hands stuffed in the pockets of his straight-legged trousers, chapped lips thinly pressed in a tight line.

In the beginning, the scorching intensity of his gaze never penetrated your soul as deeply as it currently did in front of the frothiness of the Black Lake. Perhaps with the slight whistle of the wind that whipped past the shell of your ears, it even sent a tingle to weave itself around your spine. 

You were sure that feeling resulted in something else; something even more frigid than the rush of air seeping through the thin material of your school clothes. 

Taking another drag, you let the familiar taste of nicotine spread you resisted the temptation to lock eyes with him, fleshed heart already beating erratically. He wants to say something to you. 

That much you could tell from the one second that you took to peer at him through your peripheral, quickly taking notice of the way the right side of his mouth lifted slightly, only to fall flat promptly.  

So, why won’t he?

 Flicking your thumb lightly across the spot where your mouth had been mere seconds ago with the intent to rid the burning embers of its ashy wake, you stare at the remnants of gloss you had applied earlier in the day. 

“What?” 

“Ciggie hog.”

An unladylike snort escapes you. A sound that no move was made to stifle, extending an arm so he could grab what he so desperately desired. Theo did so, inhaling with such swiftness that if it weren’t for your lack of blinking, you would’ve convinced yourself that he had it the entire time. 

“Me?” You laugh dryly, humoring him.

The playfulness laced within his words smears a grin across your face, arms crossing over your chest as a means to warm yourself from the chilly assault of the night air. 

“Who else?” 

While you now twisted to fully stare at his hunched figure, you found that his lingering irises weren’t watching your every move like they once were; instead zeroed in on the vast valleys of land — wet and muggy. Soil freshly saturated with nature’s tears. 

With every elongated intake breath, the hairs in your nose burned. It was a pleasant transition from the smoke you were swallowing for an entire minute – or two.

If it weren’t for how handsome he looked ( and how utterly determined you were not to get distracted by it ), you would’ve joined him in his newfound admiration for Mother Earth. So, you took it as an opportunity. An opportunity to shamelessly stare at the side of his face, trace the slope of his nose with an invisible finger, the dip in the bow of his upper lip. God, you were smitten. 

“Am not.” Warmth rises to the apples of your cheeks, causing you to instinctively turn your head in the opposite direction, hands lifting to subtly press into the skin there to quell the heat. 

“Are too. You smoke the majority of my cigarettes.” He mumbles, kicking a small, but thick branch buried between long blades of rain-drop-ridden greenery. His leather shoes were caked at the soles with chunks of dirt so large, he’d have to scrub it off later to not arouse suspicions.

If Malfoy, Zabini — and most of all, those two twats — Crabbe and Goyle, were to ever hear about his exchanges with a sharp-tongued Ravenclaw, especially those of swapping cigarettes around seven times a day, he’d cease to exist altogether. 

“We-” You gestured between the both of you, “-smoke the majority of your cigarettes together.” 

Swaying on your feet, you toy with a loose string of fabric on the lower half of your sweater, moving to stare at him once more. 

The skin of Theo’s lower lip is sucked between his teeth as he ashes your shared cigarette, which was close to being unlit due to neglect, a quarter of a smile rising on his face. “Liar. I’ll throw you in there.” 

His threat had you scoffing, a hand to your chest in the faux offense as you took a stride back, eyes fixing toward the lake, dark and seemingly bottomless bathing in the setting sun, chilled to high hells by the wind. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought of submerging yourself even though he was joking. “You wouldn’t. You like me too much.” 

Theo hums in amusement. “Do I?”

“You do. I’m the only person who smokes with you.”

One of his bushy brows raises. His head cocking in your direction so harshly, it cracked slightly as he did so. “I could simply ask anyone else and they’d accept.”

“Like who?”

“Draco.”

You snort once again. “You’d have to threaten to transfigure him into a ferret again before he even thinks about touching one.”

An unfamiliar gleam shone where an abyssal void once was, eyes crinkling under the weight of all his teeth on display. An actual smile, not just some half grin or an upturn of a lip, but a genuine one. Just for you.

 Another gust of wind passes through, and you can’t help but shiver, gooseflesh littering the expanse of your skin through your clothes, just enough to where your bones ached. Numb all over as you were, lips paling in color, blood now drained from your stony face, you felt oddly warm.

Nonetheless, you gave him a toothy little grin in response, watching as he lit the cigarette once more with a quick mumble and a flick of his wand that was previously sticking out of his pant pocket.

“So, Nott, if you don’t mind me prying. What exactly took you so long to meet me out here?”

“Theo.”

Raising a brow, your mouth twitches at the sides. “Huh?”

“I’ve been sharing my things with you long enough to be called Theo.” 

He lets his eyes flutter to yours, which were glistening with embarrassment as you nodded meekly, accepting his words — an offer of friendship. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

You eagerly took what was in his hand, letting its toxicity decimate your insides and leave its foul taste lingering in the crevices of the warmth of your mouth. 

Theo heaves a dramatic sigh before speaking, “Got caught up with Potions.” He waves his left hand, adorned with rings, in the air. “Nothing to blab your ear off about.”

Grimacing, you inch closer to him, shoulder touching his as you take another hit, blowing what was left of the smoke out into the chill. “Not like you haven’t done it before, but it’s okay, I know you aren’t the talkative type.”

Theo rolls his eyes as you lift your free hand to ruffle his sandy-dark hair, mussing up his loose curls in the process. It was soft, a little shaggy, and a tad bit more grown out than it usually was, but nice to look at either way. 

“But you do NEWT level potions, you git, that’s something to brag about. I couldn’t properly brew something if my life depended on it.”

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans before jutting his lips. “I’d rather keep my accomplishments private. People make their envy known.” Theo knew to an extent just how hard his fellow peers bit. How they broke through thin skin and sucked the warm lifeblood of their enemies; a perfect pair to their house sigil. He’s lived in it in the form of whispers about his family, his father, his deceased mother. 

The living were monsters with sharp teeth — maybe even worse than those blasted dementors. 

Humming, you nod your head in consideration, knowing just how cut-throat some certain scholars around Hogwarts were, eager to rip someone else’s success to shreds just to put themselves ahead. “Never thought about it like that before, though I'm not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“You’re not as observant as I thought you to be.” He admits.

“Yeah, I know.” Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, you let yourself listen to the constantly moving water, the rustling of the leaves decorating thin branches, and the shuffle of Theo’s shoes as they squelched against pillowy soil. “It’s a blessing and a curse sometimes.”

Theo brought his right hand to his mouth, ridges of his teeth immediately locking onto the tip of his thumb, biting down on his already-short nailbeds. “Like the one time, you failed to notice Macmillan asking you to the Yule.” 

Your cheeks warmed once again, your neck practically folding into the cavity of your chest at the mere thought of the yule alone. He was right. “How’d you know about that?!”

He tilts his chin in your direction, facial muscles contorting into that of boredom. “Everyone knows about that.” Plucking the cigarette from between your lips, his finger lingers longer than necessary, a small tingle in its wake as he slowly backs away from you.

“You mind if I steal one of these for later?” You point to his mouth as he puffs.

“All out, ‘m afraid.” 

“Seriously?” For someone who chain-smokes on the regular, you pegged him as the type of smoker to snag at least two of them, not because he was sharing them with you, but because every time your eyes would find his figure, he’d have one loosely hanging from his lips, eyes gesturing toward the nearest exit when his grey ones met yours.

So, this — this was surprising.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not, you fucker.”

“Isn’t it about time you chipped in as well?”

“Ah, I see. This is the part where I say goodnight. Same time as always?”

Theodore merely gives a small chuckle and a nod of his head, muttering something along the lines of ‘you’re insufferable’ before turning around to seek warmth inside castle walls, much like you should be doing as you nod at his retreating figure. With the skin of your lips pulled downward in a small frown, you shove your numb hands in your sweater pocket until cool plastic is crinkling against your smooth fingers. Within it, a brand new box of fresh ciggies. 

Y’know — the ones he told you he didn’t have.

[daamri]

If you can’t see it, feel it. (JOHNSHI DRABBLE WAHGEGSGGEHD)

A/N: I love these two so much.. been brain rotting about them and my friend recommended I post this.. this is my first time posting on tumblr please be nice womp womp

(๑>◡•๑)(๑>◡•๑)(๑>◡<๑)(๑•◡<๑)(๑•◡<๑)

“I wish I could see your face.” Kenshi blurts out, arms crossed and face flushed.

“Oh, you are drunk.” Johnny huffs out with amusement, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. 

Kenshi pouts, “No – I mean it. It’s been.. I haven’t seen your face in ages, and I won’t ever be able to..!” He then shifts to further sink himself into the corner of the couch. His hands reach up to grab the blindfold, ripping it off in frustration as if it was an attempt to get his point across.

“I mean.. You are missing out on a pretty handsome face,” the other man laughs, placing an assuring hand on Kenshi’s shoulder as he looks into.. his eyeless eyes. Slowly, Johnny drags his hand down Kenshi’s bicep until his elbow, then up his forearm until it wraps around his wrist. 

“If you can’t see it…” Johnny starts, pulling Kenshi’s wrist until calloused fingers meet a chin with slight stubble, “then why not feel it?”

Kenshi swears he can feel his heart swell up and explode.

His curious fingers brush against a sharp jaw, his rough thumb coming up to feel the depression of a cupid's bow before brushing against a small slit on the upper lip.

“What is this..?” Kenshi queries with a puzzled look, thumb continuing to brush against the scarred tissue.

“Mm.. ‘S nothing, a little scratch from an old fight.” Johnny shrugs, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. He wonders silently if Kenshi can feel the gradually increasing warmth in his cheeks.

Johnny watches as Kenshi’s palm comes up to gently cup his cheek, the pad of his thumb stretching to drag down his nose bridge, feeling the arch of it. With hesitation, Kenshi experimentally brings up his other hand to the back of Johnny’s neck, combing up into soft brown locks. The hand that previously cupped his face trails down to his throat, nails grazing lightly against his adam's apple. 

“You’re.. going a bit further than my face, eh?” Johnny awkwardly laughs out, shifting slightly from the swordsman’s touch.

“Am I? Well, I couldn’t see that.” Kenshi bites back, lips twitching into a slight grin. His lips then press together into a thin line, retracting his hand before adding, “I mean, I’ll stop if you want—“

“No, no. It’s…” Johnny tightly clasps his hand around Kenshi’s wrist, pulling it back to its original position situated just below his jaw. “It feels nice.”

(๑>◡•๑)(๑>◡•๑)(๑>◡<๑)(๑•◡<๑)(๑•◡<๑)

AND THATS ALL. I mostly wrote this while being bored in Physics 😴

[delirious-donna]

A Misuse Of Magic [William Vangeance]

Oct. 24 - William Vangeance x female reader

Magic should be used to protect the Clover Kingdom and its people. It certainly shouldn't be used to try something new in the bedroom, but can you deny the way your heart races as branches twist around your thigh?

warnings: double penetration, use of world tree magic in a sexual way, insertion, anal, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Masterlist

The twist of supple, vine-like branches around your ankle sent a thrill of excitement through your heart. Small buds flowered before your eyes, and you could barely tear your gaze away from the soft off-white colours to notice your lover shifting to kneel on the bed.

William Vangeance, the Captain of the Golden Dawn was a mysterious man, but one that you had come to love dearly. Behind the gilded mask that hid his face from the world was a man that was insecure and had been lacking in confidence when you had first met him.

The scars that covered the upper half of his face had held him back, and there was no real reason for it other than the world is far crueller than it should be. Ostracised for something he had no control over, if it hadn't been for the considerate interception of the Wizard King, the power of William Vangeance might have never been known.

You admired him, reaching for his hand, and searching around the room before locking with his expressive lilac eyes. His cape was draped over the table in the far corner, his feathered helmet resting into the rich red fabric, and his boots tucked neatly beneath the chair.

The hour was early, well before you had expected his return. The book tumbled from your grasp, falling towards the side table as you sat on your knees to wrap him in the welcoming embrace of your arms.

"You're full of surprises, my love. Who do I have to thank for having you return to me early?" you murmured, nose rubbing against the length of his own and basking in the scent of him that enveloped your senses.

"Having a vice-captain that likes to show that he is willing and able to step up is a benefit at times like these. Langris is overseeing the training planned for this afternoon, and I knew where I would much rather be…"

His voice flowed like honeyed wine, caressing your bare shoulders, and spreading down your arms all whilst the branches at your ankle continued to inch higher and higher towards your knee. His soft snowy hair felt silky to your touch, fingers spreading into the depths and delighting in the small noises of appreciation from his chest.

"And where is that?"

Deft fingers curled around your biceps, manoeuvring your body until you were seated over his knees. The thin satin of your shorts moulded to your curves, snug against your butt as William shifted his hips upward and ground you gently against his awakening excitement. All this and he hadn't even kissed you yet, your face tipped towards his in an eager plea for that first meeting of your lips.

William smiled, it appeared faintly feline. His chest rumbled pleasantly, a hand caressing the leg that was not currently being covered by blooms and spreading vines from his magic. He toyed with the sensitive skin at the back of your knee, it tickled, and your lilting laughter sparked vibrant colours to dance within his lilac irises.

"Why, right here, of course. In bed, with you. I'd spend all my time right here if I was not bound by my oath of protecting the Clover Kingdom with my service and my life," he admitted.

Your lips sought his out, a hum of acknowledgement sounding from your throat as you closed the final distance between you and him. The kiss was soft, sensual and full of adoration. It painted a masterpiece behind your closed eyelids, the dance of two lovers that were destined to be as one.

Your back found its way to the mattress, pulling William with you until he was hovering over your body, holding himself up on one wrist whilst his other hand slid along your jaw and cradled your cheek as the kiss deepened - intensified.

The simmering adoration became a potent lust in the blink of an eye. Heat spread over your chest, turned your stomach into intricate knots and tingled at your scalp. You wanted him, needed him with a desperation that wasn’t new, but was alarmingly quick to spread.

You tugged at his jacket, the buttons unfastened by dexterous fingers whilst your mouth was engaged in a dance of exchanging saliva and swallowing equally needy moans.

The many layers of William’s uniform fell to the floor, the satin of your camisole top and shorts lay beside your head as his lips found the eager buds awaiting him. Rolled between tongue and teeth, he nipped until your spine arched to gift him even more purchase on your breast.

Too captivated by the ministrations of his tongue, along with the way he pressed a thumb between your parted lips, you missed how the branching vines from when he had first appeared, were slowly gaining ground towards your thighs.

William smirked, delighted that his plan to distract you was working so readily. It had been something that he wished to try for the longest time and now felt the perfect opportunity to indulge in his desire.

His cock smeared the insides of your thighs, painting them with his arousal and teasing your glistening folds. There was an urgency in his gut to be less than a gentleman, to slam himself up to the hilt in your silken walls.

Your sweet centre called to him, a siren song that he rarely could resist nor deny. Fingers from your right hand twisted at his roots and he lost that remaining fraction of his composure.

Hips snapped forward, the crown of his aching cock breached your inner sanctity on an exalted groan of delight. You were clawing at his back, the burn of nails raked against his sensitive skin and muscles rippled from the sensation.

William accelerated the growth of his supple branches, thickening them enough that you felt the press of the pliant wood at the crease of your thigh. His weight pressed against the back of your thighs, your knees tucked to your chest and toes near your ears. He was slow but forceful as he moulded you to his cock.

You sensed something press tentatively against your puckered hole and your eyes flew open. Despite how you were being pounded into the mattress, the new sensation caught all your senses at once and you went on full alert.

“It’s me - well - my magic. I wanted to try this but I can stop if you’d prefer I didn’t…”

William halted his movements, looking shyly down at you and with a very sheepish expression. It wasn’t a side you were used to seeing from him anymore and you mused over how you should answer. Did it bother you to try something a little different? It wasn’t an act you had ever considered before but it was him and he would take such tender care of you.

“We can try it, but please stop if I ask.”

“Of course, you have my word.”

His lips crashed against you, thankful and hazed with excitement. There was a renewed vigour as he pressed his thumb to your clit and you whined around his lips. Everything felt so good, your sweet spots massaged in just the right way, messy circles on your clit and even the pressure against your ass was enjoyable.

It was new and different but rather exciting. When his magic breached the tight ring of muscles you swear you mewled like a kitten. There was no pain, which you had expected there to be, and no uncomfortableness.

Instead it was a feeling of fullness that spread throughout your body. Warmth smeared your chest and you clutched at William’s arms, needing a moment to steady your breathing.

“Relax, just relax for me, my love.”

Your head tingled as the fullness increased, the wall that separated his cock from the branch that thickened and stretched your once puckered hole felt paper thin. Every stroke into your gummy walls pressed against the thick vine-like branch that pulsed in response.

He was losing his rhythm, sloppy kisses and a throaty moan crawled from his throat. Impossibly full was the only way to describe it and the way he sent jolts of his mana through your sweat soaked body made you call out for more.

“I - I can’t last any longer,” he moaned against your neck.

“Inside,” you yelled, “cum inside.”

Widened lilac eyes snapped pure majestic fire and he was shooting rope after thick rope of creamy arousal against your velvet walls. He helped you chase your own release, working against your clit furiously until you were curled around him like climbing ivy.

The pressure receded, there was a sense of relief when it dissipated fully and your thigh was once more free of the wrapping sensation of his tree magic.

“Are you okay? Was - it - okay?”

His head nuzzled into your neck, letting his weight settle against you whilst you both basked in the warm afterglow.

“Mm, different, but nice. Kinda felt like I was being stretched but it didn’t feel sore which surprised me. Was it nice for you?”

William kissed the hollow of your throat before he answered.

“It made me feel even closer to you, in a way I’ve not experienced before. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, thank you.”

Your sweet man, always so thankful for giving him love and it hurt your heart that he thought it necessary.

“I love you too, William.”

[theangstyboiblog]

Is This Betrayal? | Silco x Fem!reader

Description: The quiet moment before young Silco and Vander fight in the river.

A/N: Anon that just had to ask if I would write Arcane stories, I blame you for this.

Warnings for the entire fic (ie. parts to come): SMUT, angst, so much angst, like this will not end happily just know that now. Death. Abusive relationship (Silco is not the abuser just FYI). Pregnancy (Silco ain't the baby daddy, I'm sorry, but it'll still be fun).

Note: Silco is in his early 20's here and the reader is 18-ish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahead of you, a towering and shining city stands high, graced with blue skies and accented in gold and white. Clean air that’s never known the decay and rot of chemical runoff and fear. Far below your feet, a buried city chokes on its own death vapors. With one hand clutching the rusted metal of the rooftop railing, you peer down at the bridge connecting two very different worlds: your own and a fantasy land that pretends you don’t exist.

Your eyes cut to the side. “You’re staring again,” you murmur as you turn to the boy, a young man really, who stands next to you, dark locks shrouding his light blue eyes. A glint of gold reflects in them as he stares at the Piltover toll booth, guards exchanging passes into the upper city for whatever bits of riches the caravans can scrape together. It sets a bitter taste on your tongue.

“They’re paying to get out of destitution, to escape, only to find themselves buried deeper under fines from a city that will never accept them,” he breathes out, jaw clenching as the caravan lines begin to move before the next poor fool is pulled to pay his dues. “They’ll be lucky to find work, nevermind something worth living for,” he says and you sigh.

Stepping carefully over the broken and breaking metal platform, you set a hand on his arm, gently pulling him back. This isn’t the first time he’s said this, and it won’t be the last. But at this point in your life, you don’t have the energy or will to care anymore, much less think about how great the divide is between the surfacer’s city and yours.

“Come’on,” you say, leading him by the hand. He follows you, shoulders slumping as you walk down the ramp towards the ladder on the side of the building. “You promised me clean air and hot food, Sil, and all I’ve gotten are your philosophical musings and a shoddy view of an enforcer’s ass,” you tell him with a wry smile.

His fingers slide and intertwine with yours. “You like my musings.”

“Maybe in bed,” you shoot back, squeezing his hand as you smirk. Then you raise a hand to your mouth in a fake yawn. “They really put me to sleep.”

You loosen your hold on him as you come to the edge of the building, ready to start climbing down to the street when his hand tightens, and a tug pulls you back towards him. You raise an eyebrow in surprise as his free hand settles on your waist and his lips press against yours.

“Mmmm,” you hum as your arms wrap around his neck.

When you open your eyes, he’s already watching you with that crease between his brows as he scans your face. “I can’t decide…” he murmurs.

“Can’t decide what?” you ask, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair.

“If I like you better beneath the shadows of Zaun or in the open sunlight.”

A smirk pulls back your lips as you roll your eyes and look over his shoulder to spy the Piltover skyline. “I think white and gold suits me,” you sigh before turning back to him, your thumb grazing the pale skin of his cheek. “But you should probably stick to the shadows, much less likely to get a sunburn that way.”

He bristles. “That was one time.”

“Silco, you were redder than a crab after it’s been boiled.”

His nose scrunches up as he remembers. “It was your idea we go swimming naked in broad daylight.”

“Maybe, but you liked—” The sound of bells breaks through the air and you both turn still as you look towards the city. Your hands slide down his chest. “What time did Vander say to meet him?”

“In an hour,” Silco answers and you watch him as he turns away from the view of the city and glances at you. “What?”

“You really don’t know why he wants to see you?” you ask.

“I told you,” he answers gruffly, “he just said to meet him.”

You look down. “I know, it’s just, we haven’t seen him in weeks and the last time he showed up drunk and raging about enforcers. He isn’t himself, Sil, and I just don’t want to see him pull you into whatever mess he’s gotten himself into.”

Shaking his head, Silco steps back, though his hand still holds yours. “I’m not an easy one to pull into anything. You know that.”

“Says the man who’s let me pull him into plenty of shit before,” you answer back.

He doesn’t smile, but his gaze is steady, and you watch those blue eyes of his for any sign of them wavering. “I’ll be fine, Y/N,” he says firmly. His hand slips out of your grasp. You turn as he moves past you stepping down the ladder.

“Silco…”

He stops mid rung and peers up at you. “I’ll meet you in the Lanes afterwards,” he tells you as you cross your arms. “We’ll get dinner at Jericho’s and—”

You lean over him, setting your hands atop the ladder. He cranes his head back to look at you, your nose only an inch away from his. Your eyes narrow. “You’ve already promised me food once today, Sil, if you think doing so twice will distract me, you are going to have to promise me something better.”

“Something better?” he asks, wetting his lips as he looks up at you, the corner of his mouth pulling back into a smile. Reaching up, he climbs to the rung above and kisses you quickly. You close your eyes, focusing on the feel of him and also keeping your hands tightly wrapped around the top of the ladder, lest you fall head over heels down the side of the building.

He pulls back as your lungs begin to burn and starts to climb down once again. “I’ll see you tonight,” he calls and you stand up, crossing your arms haughtily.

“Promise?” you call after him.

“Promise,” he calls back looking up at you once again before climbing down into the dark alleyway.

As he disappears down the ladder, you have no idea that this is the last time you’ll see those bright blue eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Chapter one here

A/N: This will be at most a 6 part fic. This was like a prologue, next chapter will be ten yearsish laterish. Chapters will be Loooooooong because I don't want to do more than 6 honestly. Also clearly I can't get away from pregnancy fics gaaaaah. Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this fic!

[ladymarycrawley]

Morning together - Mason Mount

Tag list: @masonxomount

If you'd like to be tagged just ask me! 💕

_______________________________________

Sunlight filtered through your window and birds began chirping. You knew a brand new day was approaching. 

Your eyes slowly get used to the light and the sounds of nature. 

It's 7:30 meaning you still have half an hour before getting up.

Wrapped up in the duvet like a silkworm, you roll on your side facing the person sleeping next to you.

A smile creeps on your lips while watching Mason's peaceful face: listening to his calm breathing and looking at his bare chest going up and down gives you a sense of peace.

His mouth gets slightly open and makes a groan before pulling the blanket closer to his body.

It's a good moment to change your lockscreen: you grab your phone, trying not to make any noise that would wake him up and start taking pics of your sleeping beauty.

You could look at him forever and not get bored. 

When you are satisfied with the pics you've taken, the phone goes back on the night table and you close your eyes for a few minutes before getting up.

The moment you do so you feel a hand making its way to your belly, lifting your shirt up.

You smile knowing Mason's awake so you roll again on your side, closer to his body this time.

Even though his eyes are still closed he smiles. His hand travels to your lower back, grabbing your bum and squeezing it.

"Hey, good morning Mount"

He groans in response while his hand goes on touching every inch of your body. 

You turn your back to him then, as if you want to hide the smile and the relaxation his touches are giving to you.

The only thing you can do in that moment is smile: I mean, how can you not with the most handsome man you ever laid eyes on by your side, that you got lucky enough to call him your boyfriend, was there showering you with the most loving cuddles?

As soon as his left hand makes his way along your exposed arm, you feel his soft lips against the back of your neck. 

They soon move forward, since you feel his nose tickling your jaw.

His hand, now firmly planted on your butt cheek, helps him to move his face and upper body a little further, now kissing your collarbone.

His arm finally wraps around your breasts and his leg towers yours.

A final kiss on your cheek.

"Hello love" His voice still sleepy and hoarse. 

You move your free arm back so as to stroke his tensed shoulder and move it then to his messy hair.

"To what do I owe this lovely awakening?"

"I love my beautiful girlfriend, that's all"

"Mhh...spill the truth, Mount"

You quickly change position to get on top of Mason, your eyes now locking with his.

"Someone's feeling needy this morning?"

You burst out in a disbelieved laughter. "You're the one who threw himself all over me before even opening his eyes, who's the needy one now?"

Mason smiles then puckers his lips for you to kiss them. 

"Just because I haven't touched you properly in a few days"

"And I missed your touch too, babe"

You move your face forward to comply with his wish.

After this little tease you start making small talk, you make up for lost time telling each other what happened at work, about your families, everything punctuated by innocent - yet not so innocent - cuddles. 

You move your fingers in circular motions on his face while he does the same moving them between your back and your bum.

You could've been like this forever. 

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" Each one of your words is followed by a cute, little kiss on his face, starting from his forehead, through his nose and ending on his chin.

"No, show me" He answers with a cheeky smile, swiftly swapping positions so he’s on top of you, adjusting himself so as to feel you closer.

"Like so freaking much" You mix an innocent kiss to Mason's lips with a grind of your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him.

He doesn’t want to waste any time of his free day: while his hands play with your slip, his kisses reach your neck, then your collar bones.

“Mase, we have to be at your parent’s in a couple of hours…”

“Well, we still have a lot of time, babe” He pauses his kisses to emit a soft laugh.

“You know better than me that two hours fly by so quick”

“Just give me half an hour, love”

Yeah, half an hour that will turn into one hour of you two rolling in the sheets, trying to get up as late as possible. You don’t want to cancel on his parents just because their son needed to fuck their daughter-in-law.

You roll lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow behind your head, to avoid the temptation to give in to your boyfriend's neediness. 

He doesn't have the slightest intention to give up: Mason can't stay away from your body. His fingers lift your pyjamas top up - which was an old t-shirt of his - as his touch brushes lightly against your hot skin.

His lips soon reach his fingertips. Mason plants open mouthed kisses on your bare back, on your spine to be precise, heading then to your lower back and ending on your bum, still covered in your slip.

The way he kisses and bites playfully on your glutes brings a smile to your lips that you try to hide in the softness of your pillow. 

"I know you want it too"

"Mase babe, we can do it when we come back" You pin yourself on your left elbow to look down at him, that is now facing placing his head on your thigh. 

Mason doesn't look away from your eyes, as he goes on kissing your exposed skin.

"If we don't do it now, I'll tease you all day"

You huff, rolling your eyes and biting down your lip.

"I promise you we'll do it later...I will do anything you want"

"Anything?"

"Yep, anything" 

"Mhh...a preview of what I'll get?" Mason asks, lying on his back.

You smirk and it's now your turn to settle yourself between his legs, lowering his boxers painfully slow, without looking away from his eyes.

[canmom]

Animation Notes: evolution of the anime girl, part 1

So last week we investigated ways of drawing the human head in a realistic way. Armed with this knowledge, let’s see how to stylise it...

Nowadays, when people speak about ‘anime style’, or an ‘anime girl’, they probably mean a moe design like this:

(That’s Aoi Miyamori from Shirobako, designed by Ponkan8.)

Animators learn to draw this type of design, and various standardised symbolic expressions, in books like キャラの気持ちの描き方 (kyara no kimochi no egaki kata, How to Draw the Feelings of the Characters).

Certain features you expect to see here:

the basic structure is resembles the Loomis head: spherical cranium, jaw coming down.

the cheek/jaw contour is simplifed and comes to a point (or close to it), with an outwards curve along the cheek. There is no major sharp indentation around the eye socket, but there may be a gentle concave curve.

the eyes are very large, with a lot of detail put into the shading of the pupil, specular highlights, and the shape of the eyelashes; the face is balanced around these large eyes so it doesn’t look alien.

the nose by contrast is massively deemphasised to the point of just being a dot in many cases.

the face has almost no structure or shading, so that it’s almost always a completely flat colour.

the mouth is also drawn very small, with no shading or structure applied to the lips; a small shadow under the mouth might be applied.

the neck is very narrow, and meets the head in the centre, so the cranium goes back about as far as the face goes forwards in side view.

the hair is broken up into roughly triangular locks. (the number and position of these locks of hair is actually part of the settei and the animators are expected to keep it consistent.)

the hair has typically three layers of shading: midtone, shadow, and specular highlight. the shape of the specular highlight is part of the design and won’t usually be changed based on lighting conditions. the skin rarely has a specular highlight. the eye could easily have four or more layers of shading.

lines are very thin and even, and may sometimes be broken inside the form - particularly on a closed mouth. the contours of major forms are typically outlined, while shadows and highlights are usually lineless

generally speaking, characters’ heads are much bigger than they are on real humans relative to the rest of the body.

At some point I made a little turnaround based on that book of my best attempt at the time of a moe anime head. here,

Looking back at this I can see some issues, e.g. with inbetweening the upper contour of the head, but overall this still works pretty well. Maybe soon I’ll try and do a more complex head turn with acting and like... actual hair lmao.

Anyway, this approach to stylisation could be considered something of a ‘default’ in the anime industry, but of course 1. it has evolved considerably over time, and 2. ‘anime’ encompasses a huge range of styles.

We could focus on a number of threads, but in this case, I’m going to zero in on drawings of main character girls in 3/4 view - chosen because these are some of the least diverse not the most, since, male characters tend to be more varied in general, either with more ‘realistic’ proportions or more exaggerated and stylised.

Actually, to comment a little further on that. The ‘large eyes’ stylisation is typically applied to characters intended to have a certain amount of cuteness, so in addition to the familiar genus of anime girl, it is also commonly applied to young boys. We can see this in the wildly popular ufotable adaptation of Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer), which in classic shōnen fashion has a young hot-headed boy as its protagonist:

(Tanjiro, designed by Akira Matsushima)

However, as your anime boy grows up into an anime man, his eyes will tend to get smaller, closer to a real size. It’s hard to find another example in Demon Slayer (I couldn’t find anyone scanning the first few episodes) so let’s turn to another anime.

A much stronger of dimorphism example comes in Production I.G.’s anime Psycho-Pass. Here is protagonist Akane Tsunemori, designed by Akira Amano and Kyoji Asano, who has huge eyes with a distinctive shape:

Starring alongside her is Shinya Kōgami, who’s 28 years old, and has much smaller eyes:

and for even stronger contrast, the older Nobuchika Ginoza:

You can see therefore that as a character gets older, their design often (not always) shifts further towards realism: their eyes get smaller, and a lot more lines and wrinkles are added to the face. (The strong shadow under the cheekbone is incidentally a Production I.G. staple.)

Something similar also applies to women; smaller eyes and more structure tends to indicate maturity. Let’s take a different Production I.G. work, Seirei no Moribito; here is 30-year-old Balsa designed by Gatou Asou:

and returning to Psycho-Pass, here is Jōshū Kasei, the director of the police unit, an older woman:

Although the amount of extra face detail isn’t quite so extreme as Ginoza above, we see the addition of lines to indicate the nasolabial fold, and more complex shading around the eye socket.

(Of course, not every anime takes this exact approach. In particular, there are ways of stylising old people which push into exaggeration; Hayao Miyazaki loves doing this.)

Now, this ‘look’ to anime has only been the standard for a couple of decades at most. The styles used in anime of the 1980s tended to look very differen, as you can see comparing Gunbuster (1988-9), with characters designed by Haruhiko Mikimoto...

to its sequel Diebuster (2004-6) a decade later, with characters designed by Yoshiyuki Sadamoto:

This particular shot animated by Ayumi Shiraishi might be a bit looser, simplifying shapes for comedic effect, but one of the differences is precisely the greater willingness to go off-model like this.

Part of the difference is surely the transition from physical, painted cels to digital colouring and compositing, but as you can see looking at the settei above, there is a real difference in feel from the 80s design to the 2000s one. This comes in places like: the shape of the chin, the use of hatching, the general feeling of the shapes (more rounded in the 80s), the bulk of the hair.

So, where did the ‘anime style’ come from? Let’s trace its evolution across the entire duration of anime, in a manner similar to Kimi Rito’s ‘expressionist’ approach in The History of Hentai Manga. Of course, it would be impossible to comment on every anime ever made, but I’d like to find representative examples of most of the major styles used in the industry in their respective eras.

The Very Dawn of Anime

Japanese animation (whether or not we yet consider it ‘anime’) is pretty much as old as animation itself, i.e., started in the beginning of the 20th century.

Famously, Osamu Tezuka got the ball rolling on TV anime with Astro Boy, but prior to him there was a reasonable amount of film animation, and prior to that, short film animation. I believe the oldest known Japanese animated film is Namakura Gatana (1917) by Jun’ichi Kōuichi, a short film about a samurai with a blunt sword, in a cutout animation style looked like this:

Naturally this has little resemblance to any of the future styles that became known as ‘anime style’. To me it calls to mind a little ukiyo-e artists such as Sharaku, but also presumably shows the influence of international animators like Émile Cohl. We’ll skim over those first few experiments though - please read about them here if you’re interested!

In contrast to later styles of anime we’re going to cover, here the balance of features is essentially opposite with a large jaw and mouth, reduced cranium, exaggerated forehead. I’m not going to draw a study of this one.

1930s

Unfortunately many of the films of the 1920s are lost, so it’s difficult to comment on them. So rolling the clock forward a bit, we can observe one interesting example in Benkei tai Ushiwaka (1939), a fantasy/mythological film that came in a period when animators were largely required to make propaganda films for the nationalist government.

So here’s Ushiwaka (Minamoto no Yoshitsune); there’s no credited character designer but presumably the design is due to Kenzo Masaoka, the director of the four-person team. (He and his wife also did the voice acting.)

What influences this design? It’s hard to say without a much deeper familiarity with Japanese art history at the time. We might see the influence of Fleischer; at the time Japanese animators were competing with foreign productions by working cheaply (la plus change...), but American animations were widely shown, so no doubt Fleischer and their contemporaries would prove an influence - particularly in the animation itself which uses a lot of loops in the same way as Fleischer. And, indeed, in this film, Masaoka was experimenting with pre-recorded sound to follow the American method. Regardless, we’re here to study faces.

So here’s an attempt to copy Ushiwaka; no tracing, etc. I picked this character because he seems the most similar to future anime designs.

The way I broke this down is a kind of wedge shaped head (like a Loomis head), which I indicated with dashed lines, and then cheek chub added on to make a rounder head shape overall. The overall contour has a slightly thicker line weight. The forehead seems very large here, and the eyebrows faced very high, bc he’s a historical monk etc. etc. The big difference is that the eyes are simple and haven’t been drawn very big, and the way the nose is drawn.

Looking at the designs in this film, it doesn’t look exactly like any Disney/Fleischer characters, but I do think it shares a bit of a design sensibility with Disney of this era (notably Snow White).

Beyond animation, the other major cultural presence of illustration would be kamishibai paper theatre, where performers would show illustrated cards to a accompany oral storytelling. It’s a little difficult to find examples of kamishibai boards dating back to the 1930s, but here’s one I found in this article from a kamishibai called Cry of the Andes (アンデスの叫び Andesu no Sakebi) originally sourced from Manga Kamishibai by Eric P Nash.

This has a painted style that resembles American commercial illustration in the same period, though notably the face is quite flat and without much shading away from the eyes, or the use of line weight under the nose.

1940s

After Snow White proved that an animated feature film was in fact possible, other countries jumped on in. So the first feature-length Japanese animated film - a propaganda film - came during the second world war.

(In fact, as an aside, Japan’s animators were beaten to the feature film punch by the Wan brothers in Shanghai who completed Princess Iron Fan under Japanese bombs! Animation Night 29 - that film may be watched here on the Internet Archive, though sadly it’s quite a rough print.)

In this period, the fascist government was exerting severe control on art, but also throwing a lot of money at those animators willing to play along and make propaganda films. That takes us to Momotaro: Sacred Sailors (1945), the sequel to the 37 minute Momotaro’s Sea Eagles (1943). It centres on the folk character Momotarō who had been increasingly appropriated as a nationalist symbol, portrayed as a soldier in the Imperial Japanese Army/Navy, since the First Sino-Japanese War.

This one uses mostly anthro animal characters, and features for its time extremely sophisticated animation of war machines, and generally a high drawing count. Shōchiku made a 4K print of it (complete with big disclaimer at the beginning) which can be viewed on Youtube here.

The actual character designs are very simple - perhaps even more so than Ushiwaka above. Very rounded cutesy shapes - an early instance of cuteness being used to promote imperialism and war I suppose. This character is a monkey, but we can look at them a bit like a human still. The face is very flattened: the overall head shape is two curves connected by straights. It’s kind of like a lego head.

Momotarō is mostly relevant because of the influence it had on later animation. Notably, a young Osamu Tezuka saw the film in 1945; WP unsourced writes:

He later said that he was moved to tears by the movie's hints of dreams and hopes, hidden under the appearance of war propaganda. 

The staff on the film included Kenzo Masaoka, director of the above discussed Benkei tai Ushiwaka; most of its staff (quite a small list!) had a limited career in subsequent anime.

Kamishibai also took on a militaristic tone during this period, such as Kintaro the Paratrooper seen here:

I don’t have the evidence to really document whether the difference in style from the previous example represents a general trend, but these illustrations are a lot simpler and more graphical.

In 1945 of course Japan lost the war and the country came under American occupation. US comics, films and TV flooded into Japan, and this kicked off an explosion of manga creation - indeed, the definition of manga as an art form. So this is where our history really begins.

Next time: early manga, Toei’s films, the styles of Osamu Tezuka and Go Nagai, and the first steps towards more complex designs...

[dreamerstreamer]

Into The Woods

Pairing: werewolf!Dream / Clay x human!gn!reader

Summary: [Werewolf!AU] It’s love at first sight when you move into a quaint, little house by the forest’s edge, but you soon find that there’s more waiting for you in the woods than you originally thought. 

Word Count: 10k

A/N: my third commissioned story! this work has been altered so everyone can read it, but the plot remains the same. this story was a blast to write, and i hope you all enjoy it! <3

With a step back and a firm tug, the back door slammed shut with a satisfying click. You grinned as you turned the key in the lock. Slipping the silver keyring into your pocket, you turned on your heel, your gaze sweeping over the vast open forest that stretched out before you. Viridian green leaves loomed over the earth, standing in stark contrast to the clear, cerulean blue sky that stretched across the horizon overhead. On the ground below, the occasional wildflower sprouted up and out of the earth, their soft petals shyly unfurling and fluttering in the warm summer breeze.

For such a lovely view, you never would have guessed that you would be able to afford a place like this for so cheap.

Then again, Elmwood Ridge wasn’t a particularly notable town. Best known for its countless acres of elm forests and the large lake that laid at its centre, the town had become something of a nature reserve unto itself, despite being anything but. It was a quiet, quaint region, somewhere you had always distantly dreamed of visiting, if only because of its peaceful atmosphere. You never thought that you would end up living there, though.

It had been a split second decision made on impulse, and looking back, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t regret one bit. Your new house was two stories tall and built with lovely stone bricks that looked like they came right out of a fairytale. The triangular sloping roof hung just over the sides of the house to provide some shelter from the rain, and the second floor had two balconies—one in the front and the back. Needless to say, you were sold in a heartbeat. Not only was the house pretty, but so was the price tag. You vaguely remembered hearing something about complaints of noisy wolves in the forest, but you weren't deterred. A little noise never killed anyone, and you were more than happy to share your space with nature.

Hopping down the back steps, you gently tread across the soft grass, careful not to step on any flowers as you walked. After moving in two days ago, you had planned to take the day off to hike and learn all that you could about your new backyard. You would head into town tomorrow and look for a job then—right now, all you wanted to do was explore and appreciate your new home.

Gazing up at the rustling elm leaves one last time, you smiled to yourself before stepping out of your lawn and into the forest.

In the distance, a faint howl rang out across the trees.

Between stretches of chestnut wood, a flash of tawny brown and golden fur dashed across the earth, powerful paws pushing off the ground with each leap. Landing atop a fallen log, the wolf raised his head, his muzzle raised toward the sky as he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring.

Fresh. Clean. Warm. The faintest scent of flowers.

He exhaled, emerald eyes blinking as he scanned the open forest around him.

Carrying out routine morning patrols around the pack’s territory was one of the alpha’s many duties, but Clay still wasn’t quite used to it.

Stepping down from the log, he let his tongue hang out of his mouth, his ears flicking as he took in every sound. Somewhere above him, a bird flapped its wings, chirping as it took flight. Along the breeze, he could pick up the distant scent of deer coming from the south. His eyes flashed at the smell. He would have to report that to the pack when he returned—it had been a few days since they last had a large hunt. Sniffing one last time, he began weaving between the looming trunks, his entire body rapt with focus.

He had only been appointed as alpha a little less than a month ago, and although he had technically been taught the ropes, it took more than just a few lessons for a wolf to truly become alpha. He could still remember how the former alpha had pressed his nose to his side, nudging him onto the rock peak in front of his pack with an aging howl. He had been getting older, and everyone knew it—it was only a matter of time until a new leader was selected, but Clay never would have dreamt he would be the one who was chosen.

Only a few people were as surprised as he was, though. He was one of the larger wolves in the pack, and while he wasn’t the tallest in his human form—that title belonged to the young, curious Ranboo—he was by far the strongest, having led more than his fair share of hunts before. It was only natural that he ended up in his position, and he was welcomed into the upper ranks with open arms.

A glimmer of warmth washed over him at the memory, and he would have smiled if he wasn’t shifted. He had never felt such pride before, feeling everyone’s excited gazes on him as he howled up at the gleaming, full moon. The shouts that filled the starry night sky made his heart swell in his chest, and he just knew he was going to do his best to make everyone proud. He would protect them to the ends of the earth, if he had to.

Kicking away a stray branch, his eyes quickly flicked over his surroundings. He recognized this area, and he knew that he had almost completed a full circle around the pack’s perimeter, by now. There was only a tiny stretch left before he would return to the camp and fill everyone in. Raising his head, he let his jaw fall open to catch any aromas that travelled along the breeze.

All of a sudden, a new scent wafted over his nose, an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity striking deep within his core.

There was something in the woods—something that did not belong here.

In an instant, Clay’s lips were pulled back in a snark, his sharp canines bared as he sank his paws into the soil below. His claws latched onto the dirt, his grip firm and unwavering as he pressed himself closer to the ground, careful not to let his scent travel in the air.

They weren’t common, but every now and then, hunters would venture into the woods with their heads held high and guns drawn. Most of them came hunting for game, shooting down the occasional deer or elk to bring back to their own families. Clay didn’t have a problem with those hunters, but as for the ones who came in search of wolves?

Clay wasn’t sure he could be so lenient with those ones.

Prowling forward, he kept his haunches low, his tail brushing over the shrubbery as he took step after step toward the strange, new scent. Ever so slowly, he crept closer, his pupils dilated in focus. Suddenly, he stopped, freezing in place.

He could hear footsteps.

Inhaling deeply, he let his eyelids fall shut.

One, two, three...

His eyes shot wide open, and he whipped his head up, only to go stock still as a silhouette came into view.

It was a person, a regular person.

He blinked as he lifted his head, his expression growing neutral as he watched you crouch down to examine a small pile of stones stacked beside a tree, one that he vaguely remembered being made by Tommy and Tubbo when they went exploring a few weeks ago. There was no gun strapped to your body, no pack hanging off your hips as you rose back up to your feet. You didn’t seem to be a threat at all, and from the back, he couldn’t tell if you were even carrying a weapon.

Just then, you turned to the side, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The world suddenly fell away, his surroundings melting into nothing more than a hazy blur as his eyes locked onto your face. His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

The light framing your lovely face made your cheeks seem all the more lively as you rose. He watched as you brushed your fingers delicately over the bark of a tree, your brilliant eyes meticulously tracing over the curve of every leaf as you walked past. Your feet never lingered in one place for long, constantly moving and skittering across the forest floor like a rippling stream. It was almost as though your every movement cast streaks of dappled sunlight everywhere you stepped, the marvelling spark flickering in your gaze making his head spin with wild abandon.

Clay felt something warm and tight curl against his insides, unmistakably soft and affectionate. It was almost hard to breathe with the way his lungs squeezed and shook behind his ribs. He hadn’t felt this feeling before, but he had heard enough stories to know exactly what it was.

His mate—you were his mate.

There wasn’t any one way to truly describe what a mating bond was, but the most commonly accepted one was that it was a connection that tied people’s souls together, uniting them in perfect harmony. Every werewolf had a mate, and most of the time, they would find their mate in another one of their kind. But right now, as Clay stood in the forest, his gaze glued to the most beautiful human he had ever laid eyes on, he knew that he wasn’t going to find his mate in some other shifter like everyone else had said he would.

Having a human for a mate was rare at best, and unheard of at worst. After all, not every human had a mate, and he had heard stories of shifters being rejected by their human mates. Some of the elders in the camp still refused to believe that having a human mate was even possible, but nearly all of the younger shifters had accepted it—embraced it, even. But never in his pack, at least, had someone learned that their mate was a human.

It looked like he was going to be the first.

For a few long moments, he simply stood there, watching you silently with wide eyes as you slowly made your way deeper down the path. A part of him wanted to chase after you, yearned to walk by your side for as long as his legs would let him. But as soon as he raised his paw, he quickly lowered it again, a pang of guilt shooting through him.

He couldn’t go up to you—not like this, and most certainly not now. He didn’t have nearly enough experience under his belt as an alpha yet, and bringing you to his world could just make everything even worse if he wasn’t careful about it. He swallowed, taking a single step back as you slowly slipped out of view, disappearing into the trees and carrying your lovely scent away with you.

Anxiety gnawed at the inside of his gut, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you would even return. Surely you must live around here to be hiking in these woods—maybe you would hike here again, if not even more often.

He paused, then nodded to himself before whipping around, his tail swishing behind him as he clenched his jaw.

Tomorrow. He would come back tomorrow.

A few feet deeper within the trees, the sound of a stick snapping shattered the forest’s silence.

Along the lightly-treaded path, you whirled, your head pointing toward the sharp sound. Pausing, you raised your head, your gaze darting to the forest canopy above. The sun peaked down at you between swaths of vibrant green, and you squinted, raising a hand to shield your eyes. The trees remained quiet around you, only whispering with the soft rustles of their leaves.

A moment passed in silence. A robin warbled.

You let out a long exhale and shook your head. Turning once more, you stepped over a small crack in the ground, humming as you walked further into the woods.

It was probably nothing.

Sapnap grunted as he dropped the pile of sticks onto the ground, the wood clattering at his feet in a heap. He scowled at the sight, resisting the urge to kick the pile down. He couldn’t believe Wilbur had actually tricked him into doing something as simple as collecting firewood. It wasn’t difficult or anything, but he was the beta, for crying out loud! He could have at least passed the buck to someone like Tommy, that brat.

“Sapnap.”

Sapnap blinked at the familiar voice, turning to find himself standing face to face with Clay. His dirty blond hair was disheveled atop his head, and his cheeks were flushed with heat. A smile tugged on his lips at the sight. “Oh, hey, Clay. Welcome back.” He squinted at the way Clay’s chest heaved, his breaths coming out shaky and uneven. “Um, you good, there? Did you run back here or somethi—”

“It happened,” Clay blurted.

Sapnap blinked, raising a single brow at him. “What happened?”

Clay swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I met my mate.”

Sapnap paused. “Oh. Oh.” A wide grin stretched across his face, and he reached over to clap a hand to Clay’s back. “That’s awesome, man! I’m guessing it happened on your patro—”

“My mate’s human,” Clay said suddenly.

Sapnap paused again. “Oh. Oh.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Clay’s shoulders went slack at his side as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his scalp. “I, um,” he said, his words coming out in a hazy rush. “I don’t think I’m ready to—” He stopped, feeling Sapnap’s patient gaze rest on him, then opened his mouth, again. “I can’t just reveal our world so soon. I’ve only been alpha for what?” He gestured vaguely. “A month? I’m not experienced enough, yet.” He slumped forward, a hollow, wistful look settling onto his features. “It would be too much for both of us.”

Sapnap nodded thoughtfully, understanding flooding his face. “It’s okay, Clay. Take your time.” He fell silent for a brief moment, then quietly added, “Did you reveal yourself or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was too surprised to even move.”

Sapnap’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “Then there’s no rush,” he said. “You’re allowed to build up your confidence first, dude. Your confidence as a wolf. As an alpha.” His eyes flashed with soft reassurance. “As a mate.”

Clay raised his head, blinking as Sapnap gently nudged his shoulder with his. “You can do this. Plus,” he added, his tone growing more lighthearted, “I’m your beta. You know I’ve got your back.”

The chuckle that escaped Clay’s lips was low and short, but he could already feel the tension seep out his shoulders like a leaking dam. “Thanks, Sap.”

Taking a step back, Sapnap hummed, offering him a lopsided smile. “Anytime.”

Clay turned on his heel, jerking his head toward the centre of the camp. “Well, I need to organize today’s hunt, but I’ll catch you later. I trust you’ll keep things under control while I’m gone.”

He nodded. “Of course—you know me.” With a short wave and a small grin, Clay began walking off in the opposite direction. “Oh, also,” Sapnap suddenly shouted after him, “don’t forget to grab something to eat before you go hunting today, yeah? I know you missed breakfast.”

Clay didn’t look behind him as he shot a thumbs up at Sapnap from behind his back, but Sapnap could already picture the way he would roll his eyes with a smile. Shaking his head, he turned back to the firewood scattered around his feet, a new glower creeping onto his face.

He was so getting back at Wilbur for this.

Every morning after, Clay dutifully woke up early and strolled deep into the woods, shifted into his wolf form as he scented the air and patrolled the area just as any good alpha would. But time and time again, that one sweet scent never seemed to return, almost as though it had vanished from the forest entirely. At times, he thought he caught the faintest whiff of it, but some further exploration would only reveal a small patch of flowers, never you.

Needless to say, his disappointment was palpable.

It had been a full week now, and Clay was running out of hope. Maybe he was wrong—maybe you wouldn’t ever come back. His heart ached at the thought.

He had been too hasty, wasn’t he?

Hanging his head, he whimpered to himself in the quiet forest, sniffing absentmindedly as he ambled about almost aimlessly. He still had a duty to fulfill, he knew, but he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest.

But right then, just as he paced another few feet forward, he heard it.

A melody.

It was soft, the singing travelling down from the west in a distant murmur, or perhaps a hum. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he surely would have missed it. He didn’t know this song, didn’t recognize it one bit, but he could already tell that it was sweeter than any thrush’s song or any loon’s call. He felt his heart flip in his chest, and just like that, he knew.

In a flash, he was racing across the earth, his paws flying out beneath him in a blur as he ducked under branches and darted past deer, missing the way they startled at his sudden approach. The song was louder now, and he could smell it—smell you.

It was only a few seconds later that he came to a stop, his paws digging into the ground as his heart leapt into his throat.

Soft hair. Bright eyes. A dazzling grin.

You were back.

You had headphones on this time, he realized, and you were humming aloud to yourself, your feet most likely moving in time to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. You were a little off-key and occasionally stumbled over the refrain as it came around, but he found himself entranced nonetheless. Even when you were doing something as simple as humming, you were stunning.

Why come back today of all days? he distantly wondered to himself. What made today so different from any other day?

He wracked his mind as he felt the sun shine down on him gently, warming his back as he crouched down a little. He rarely kept track of the days—that was Sapnap’s job—but he knew that there hadn’t been any special events or holidays going on in the human world. Pressing his ears flat against his head, he scratched his paw at the ground in confusion. Just what made today so special?

That was when the realization slammed into him.

It had been a week since he last saw you.

Once a week—you must hike here once a week.

If he could smile in this form, he already knew that he would have the biggest, stupidest grin plastered to his face. He wanted to leap for joy and howl like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t want to alert you of his presence just yet. Again, it had only been a week, and he was still far from being a worthy mate for you.

Once a week, he thought once more, his eyes glued to you as you skipped further down the trail and out of his sight. I can wait another week.

The wind sang in his ears as a gentle breeze brushed over his tawny fur, the forest murmuring a silent lullaby into his ear as he whirled back around. As much as he wanted to stay with you forever, he had a patrol to finish and a pack to defend. He let his eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments, your face engraved into the rosy crevices of his heart as your humming filled his ears once more.

He couldn’t wait to see you, again.

One week later, you grumbled to yourself as you stomped through the woods, complaining about your new job under your breath. Clay wished he could comfort you, but stayed put with his claws buried in the dirt.

Two weeks later, you watched with wide eyes as a doe and her fawn drank from a nearby stream. He made sure not to hunt those two down in particular later that week.

Three weeks later, you were snapping photo after photo with the camera hanging around your neck, your eyes absolutely brimming with curiosity. He thought you were prettier than any view the forest had to offer.

As one week stumbled into the next, the months began to pass in a blur. Summer collapsed into autumn as the leaves turned gorgeous shades of crimson red and golden orange before tumbling from the sky. Shortly after that, the forest was covered in a blanket of ivory white snow, leaving the branches bare and awaiting the return of spring. The snow soon melted into rain, and puddles littered the forest floor while flowers began to bud and bloom once more. In almost a whirlwind of seasons and waiting, summer rolled around once more, marking the first anniversary of your arrival in Elmwood Ridge.

With each passing season, Clay continued to watch you from afar with a tender gaze. Some days, he would listen to you hum as you trekked along while other times, he would only manage to catch the tiniest of glimpses of you between the trees. No matter how short the instance was, every second he got was well worth the wait, and Clay could feel his affection bloom like a new spring flower. As the trees grew larger, as did his confidence. Time was the best teacher the forest had to offer, and it didn’t take much longer for Clay to grow comfortable with his duty as the alpha of his pack. But despite his newfound strength, he still didn’t feel ready enough to approach you outright, to reveal himself to you as he was. Doubt swirled in his mind like a raging storm, eating away at him like a gnat digging through mud.

He was beginning to fear he may never be ready.

Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, the now familiar scent of his mate drifting across the new summer breeze. You were taking a new path today, he noted in an instant. Perhaps you were doing some exploring.

Padding through the trees, leaves crunched beneath his feet as he leapt over logs and puddles, following after your scent as it grew stronger and stronger. It only took a few moments for him to find you standing atop an elevated rock face, your head lifted as you gazed up at the light scattered between the tree leaves. Your face almost seemed to be glowing in the pale, morning sunshine, your eyes looking like two dewdrops as they curved into tiny crescents. Clay’s heart rattled in his chest, and he resisted the urge to howl to the heavens above.

You were lovely, his mate. If only he could work up the courage to properly tell you.

Basking in the sunlight, he watched as you took a few steps forward closer to the cliff’s edge, your eyes still trained on the sky above. It wasn’t a terribly deep fall, he knew, but the fall was most certainly far enough to hurt someone if they fell at the wrong angle. He narrowed his eyes as you stopped dangerously close to the edge, halting just a few inches from the drop. Surely the stone was strong enough to support your weight, even as old as it was, right?

Apparently not.

Clay saw the cliff crumble before you did.

Terror shot through his body like a bullet as he watched the rock face collapse under your shoes, your feet tumbling out beneath you. Your hands desperately reached for the cliff face, but he could tell from the way your scream cut through the forest’s silence like a sharpened blade that you weren't going to be able to grab it in time.

There was no time for him to think—his body moved first.

In one moment, he was standing with his mouth slack and his emerald eyes blown wide with horror. In the next, he was lunging across the rock face, his jaws wide open as he reached for the lower collar of your shirt. The moment he felt his nose brush against the back of your neck, he snapped his jaws shut, careful not to pierce your skin with his sharp canines as the cloth caught between his teeth. Your weight bounced beneath him once, and the gasp that escaped your lips made his head spin dizzily.

Close—you were so close, and your scent was intoxicating.

You turned your head ever so slightly, and he felt it the moment your eyes locked onto his. You were scared, he could tell, but as you took in the sight of the wolf holding onto you, you almost seemed to relax in his grip. Planting his paws firmly against the rocky earth, he tugged his jaw up and backwards, pulling you away from the cliff face and over even ground. Your hands scrambled to latch onto the cliff edge, helping to pull yourself up until finally, he let go of you, your now torn collar resting against the back of your neck.

Heaving a sigh of relief, you let yourself collapse against the rock face, lying on your back as you gasped for breath. Your chest felt tight like a wound-up spring, and adrenaline pumped through every vein in your body, yet you felt oddly calm. After a minute or two, you slowly pushed yourself forward on your arms until you were just barely slouching forward, looking over your shoulder. A few feet away from you, the wolf stood, his eyes trained intently on your face as you swallowed.

“Um,” you breathed, your eyes desperately scanning him up and down. “Hello?”

He didn’t say anything in return, simply shuffling further away from you. He was giving you space, you realized after a brief moment, and you blinked as you scrambled to sit completely upright. His fur was a soft, golden brown, and you had half the mind to distantly think that you wanted to run your fingers through it. Something about him seemed comforting like that.

“Hi,” you whispered once you were seeing him eye-to-eye. “Ah, um, thank you for saving me.”

Maybe you were just imagining it, but you could have sworn his eyes widened in an almost human-like manner. He didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from you, and you swallowed. You thought you would be more scared than this, more terrified of the beast standing before you. But as you sat there, watching as he blinked at you, you felt as though you were anything but. An unfamiliar yet strangely comforting warmth curled around in the pit of your stomach as you tilted your head at the wolf.

He felt so... safe. So familiar, almost like you had met him before.

“Are—are you a nice wolf?” you asked after another moment, your voice faltering the tiniest bit. “I’d like to think you’re a nice wolf, since you just saved my life.”

Once again, you were greeted by silence, the only indication that he had heard you at all being the way his ears flicked. What am I doing? you suddenly thought, your mind running at a million miles a minute. I’m talking to a wolf—an animal. I’m not a Disney character.

This was weird—or at least it was supposed to be. Yet, as you stared at this wolf who simply stared back at you with these bright, stunning green eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that everything in this moment was just perfect. Like you had been waiting your entire life for this moment to happen.

“You’re really pretty,” you suddenly blurted. In an instant, you were slamming your palm over your mouth, your cheeks flooding with heat. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing,” you murmured, your voice coming out muffled. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage like a caged bird begging to be let out, and ever so slowly, you lowered your hands from your mouth, offering the wolf a shaky, sheepish smile. “Um, thank you, again,” you said gently, honestly. Leaning forward, you pressed your hands against the cool stone to balance yourself, your fingers digging into the rock as you spoke. “I don’t really know how you knew I was there or how you knew I was going to fall, but I really appreciate it.”

The wolf blinked at you once more, then took another step back, subtly dipping his head. Your smile widened at the sight. Pushing yourself upward, you rose to your feet, brushing off the dust from your frontside before standing upright, fidgeting almost nervously.

“I—I,” you stammered, suddenly feeling awkward, “I think I’m going to go home now, but...” You swallowed, raising your hand in a small wave as heat rose in your chest. “...thank you so much, again!”

Before the warmth in your heart could burst, you whipped around, sprinting away as fast as your legs could take you. You didn’t see the way the wolf practically crumbled into a ball on the ground, whimpering to himself as you disappeared out of sight.

Bolting down the hill and past the trees, branches blew past you in a blur as you dashed between the trunks and over patches of wildflowers. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears like a beating drum, and your chest felt oddly light. You couldn’t shake the memory of how intense that wolf’s gaze had been on yours, his eyes swirling with something that made your stomach churn and your mouth go dry.

He really was pretty.

Sapnap yawned as he stretched his arm behind his back and above his head, rolling his neck as the joint popped back into place with a satisfying crack. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept in like this, but he did not regret it one bit. Clay had given him the okay, after all. One late morning wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Sapnap, you are not going to believe this.”

Sapnap yelped, whipping around with eyes as wide as saucers as he stumbled back a step. The drowsiness left his body in an instant, almost as though he had never been tired to begin with. Clay’s hand shot out to grab his arm, steadying him as he swallowed, relaxing once he realized who he was looking at.

“Holy crap, Clay,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his racing heart, “you scared me! I know you’ve gotten better at this whole stealth thing, but that was just straight up terrifyi—”

Clay’s grip on his arm tightened. “I saved them today,” he whispered.

Sapnap froze, and there was a beat of silence. “You did what, now?”

Just like that, Clay had flung his arms up and around his head, his fingers buried in his hair as he began to pace, his tone frantic and rushed. “There—there was this steeper area with this cliff but it was kind of hidden, and then it was breaking and I just knew something bad was going to happen, and I couldn’t just let that happen, so I moved without thinking and I was pulling them back and—”

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Breathe,” Sapnap instructed calmly. “You need to breathe, dude.” Clay opened his mouth, but Sapnap spoke before he could. “You are talking so quickly right now, and I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

Clay closed his mouth, mulling over the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions steamrolling through his head. After a few moments, he finally spoke once more. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, suddenly sounding completely and utterly awestruck. “My mate actually stopped and thanked me. And called me pretty.”

Sapnap’s fingers loosened around Clay’s shoulders, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

Clay sighed, sounding absolutely lovestruck. “Yeah.”

Pulling his arms back to cross them over his chest, Sapnap eyed him up and down, cocking his head. “So,” he began gently, “how are you feeling?” When Clay opened his mouth, Sapnap quickly added, “Slowly, please.”

Clay groaned, teasingly rolling his eyes before leaning back on his heels, rocking back and forth as he began to speak. “I only revealed myself as a wolf,” he said softly, “so I don’t know if they know about the mating bond yet. I don’t even know if humans can feel it like we can.”

He tilted his head back, gazing up at the cerulean blue sky. “But there’s something about the way we looked at each other that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, humans can feel it,” he whispered, sounding breathless all at once. “Call it a gut feeling, I guess. I don’t know.” He cast a glance over at Sapnap, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do I sound crazy?”

A thoughtful look flickered across Sapnap’s face. Then, he grinned. “A little bit, yeah.”

Clay sighed, something he noticed he had been doing a lot more, lately. “I just…” He swallowed. “I just don’t want something like that to happen ever, ever again.”

Suddenly, he fell quiet, his lips parting as the wheels in his head began to turn. Sapnap watched as a tiny spark came to life within his focused gaze, small but oh-so vibrant.

“You got an idea there?” he prompted after a few seconds of silence.

Clay blinked once. Twice. Then, a smile stretched across his face—a smile as bright as the full moon.

“Something like that.”

It was probably a dumb idea for you to return to the forest for your weekly hike as if nothing had happened, but you couldn’t quite quench the curiosity that bubbled up inside you every time you thought about the wolf who had saved you. His gaze had been fiery, yet compassionate, and he had been purposely so gentle when tugging you away from the cliff. You weren't a fool—you knew how powerful a wolf could be. Then why did he treat you so kindly?

You had to find out.

Marching through the brush and shrubbery, you whipped your head this way and that, scanning every strip of forest you could lay your eyes on. Wolves were good at hiding, you knew that. After all, if they weren’t as stealthy as they were, they would never be able to catch a meal. But you had been hiking for almost an hour now, and you still hadn’t seen a single glimpse of the wolf. You couldn’t say you were completely surprised, since it wasn’t like you knew every inch of the forest, but you were frustrated to admit that you were at least a little disappointed. Maybe this was a lost cause.

But then, you heard it.

The sound of a stick snapping.

Freezing, you paused, turning as you glanced to the sides. Nothing out of the ordinary stood among the bushes. You stopped again, then pursed your lips.

No, something was there.

A tender curiosity sparked between your lungs, but it was coated in a thin layer of reluctance. Sucking in a deep breath, you whipped around, squinting at the seemingly empty trees around you as you opened your mouth.

“Wolf?” you called out slowly into the quiet. “Is that you?”

At first, all was quiet, and you held your breath. The leaves rustled around you almost tauntingly, and you distantly heard the caw of a crow. You were just about to give up and go home when a flash of gold caught your eye.

Standing motionless a single yard away was a wolf—your wolf.

A grin stretched across your face, joy surging through your body as you carefully took a few steps forward. Oh, this was definitely a dumb idea, but you was more than brave enough to keep going.

“Hi, there.” You shuffled your feet, a tentative look passing over your face. “You’re, um—” You gulped. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Clay’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back. No! he thought, hoping you would be able to read his expression, even as a wolf. Never. Not in a million years.

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly as you scanned his face up and down. Then, your lips quirked up into the tiniest of smiles.

“No,” you murmured in the softest of voices, and he felt his heart melt in his chest. “If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now, wouldn’t you?”

Clay nearly sank in relief, and he barked. You raised a brow at the sound, furrowing your brows slightly. “Do you want me to keep you company?” you asked, beginning to walk up to him. “Is that what you’re doing?”

You had only made it a few steps when he suddenly barked again, taking a step toward you. In an instant, you froze, watching with bated breath as he curled around to your other side and gently nudged at your leg with his nose. You shot him a curious glance, stumbling forward the tiniest bit. “Hey,” you said, “what are you...?”

You trailed off, a cut rock face suddenly catching your attention from the corner of your eye. The stony grey wall was nearly perpendicular to the ground and looked almost eerily similar to the one you had nearly fallen down the week prior. Just like that, it clicked.

There was another small cliff right there. He was trying to keep you away from it.

“Oh,” you breathed, your lips splitting into an even wider grin as you made sure to steer away from the short cliff, “you don’t want me falling again, do you?”

He snorted, and you blinked at him. That sounded far more human this time—almost too human. It almost reminded you of a dog, if anything. A triumphant smile slowly crept onto your face, and with your head held high, you turned on your heel, marching onward and away from the rock face.

“Well, wolf,” you said, a teasing arrogance seeping into your tone as you glanced over your shoulder at him, “I promise you that I’ll be much safer this time arou—woah!”

The toe of your shoe caught on a protruding stone, and with a sharp yelp, you stumbled forward, gravity pulling you downward with a harsh pull. With a flail of your arms, you only just barely caught your balance as your hand shot out to grab onto a tree and steady yourself. Your heart flipped in your chest as you planted your feet firmly against the ground, the soles of your shoes pressed flatly against the earth as your fingers curled into the bark. Your chest heaved with surprise as you stood upright, turning to look over your shoulder at the wolf. He blinked at you, and while you knew wolves couldn’t quite smile, something about his gaze almost seemed cocky—like he was laughing at you. Heat crept up your neck and onto your face, your cheeks bursting with warmth.

“Y-You did not see that,” you sputtered, coughing into your sleeve as you brushed off your pants dismissively.

Almost as if to spare you some embarrassment, he turned his head away from you, although you could see his eyes glance your way every few seconds. Pouting, you huffed, whirling on your feet as you continued to trudge down the path. Soon enough, the sound of soft footsteps trailed after you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that he would follow you even if you weren't looking.

That night, you dreamt of whispering trees and a pair of bright, viridian green eyes.

What had once been a weekly ritual of watching from afar soon turned into an amicable companionship between human and wolf. You weren't afraid as you walked into the woods to see a familiar pair of eyes waiting for you, your eagerness to see him only growing with each passing week. Clay himself could hardly contain his excitement. Actually walking beside you was so much better than simply watching from the woods, hidden by the trees. He loved your company and absolutely basked in your presence, even if you sent his heart into an absolute frenzy.

“Sometimes,” you said aloud one day, “I really do think you can understand me.”

Clay stiffened, praying you wouldn’t notice the way his ears pressed flat against his head as he turned to look at you. You sat on a tree stump while he padded atop the fallen trunk it sat beside, your gleaming gaze slowly blinking at him as he silently circled around you.

“I think it’s got something to do with the way you react to some of the things I say,” you murmured. You watched the way his tail flicked behind him, the soft fur brushing gently against the low-growing plants. A second later, you sighed, waving your hand. “Ah, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Clay nearly heaved a sigh of relief, continuing to pace. You would say surprising things like that every once in a while, and it would send his heart racing. Well, you usually only said one absurd thing per week, so you probably weren’t going to say another thing like that toda—

“Can I pet you?”

His paws came to a halt. Perhaps he thought too soon.

Before he could even properly process what you had said, You were backpedaling, shaking your head with an apologetic look. “Agh, that’s a terrible question. You’re a wolf, not a dog. There’s no way you wou—”

All of a sudden, he was crawling up to you, jutting his forehead toward your hand. His muzzle was clamped shut as his eyes bore into yours, and you gaped at him, the realization beginning to dawn on you.

“Wait,” you breathed in disbelief, “you’re actually going to let me?”

He didn’t move, lowering his eyes to the ground almost shyly as his ears curled toward you. Slowly, you raised your arm with a shaky hand and reached forward, letting your fingers gently brush over his tawny fur with a feather-light touch. You nearly gasped at the feeling, not noticing the way his legs trembled beneath him.

“Wolf,” you whispered after a few seconds, “you’re really soft.”

Clay nearly combusted on the spot. Perfect—everything about you was just perfect.

With your hand buried in his soft fur and the summer breeze ruffling your hair, You smiled, sighing with warmth lighting up your heart as the wolf at your feet melted beneath your touch.

Sapnap tapped his foot impatiently, squinting up at the glaring sun. George slept in, again. He was kind of used to it now, but even though he wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than just a little ticked off.

“My mate pet me today.”

Sapnap tensed for a split second, turning to see Clay staring at him with wide eyes. Relaxing once more, he stared at him for a long, long moment before speaking. He really needed to start giving him some sort of heads up at this point.

“Dude,” he said, “I know that the last time you asked me if you sounded crazy, I said a little bit, but I feel like I might have to change my answer.”

Clay shot him a glare, and he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement. “Sapnap,” he said bluntly, “you act like you don’t talk about Karl and Alex like this.”

Sapnap looked taken aback for a moment, raising a finger, then lowering it with a defeated look. “Touché.”

As Clay walked off with his head held high and a bounce in his step, Sapnap chuckled, watching him leave with a small smile. He recognized the gleam in his eyes, the rosy hue of his cheeks.

Love—Clay really was in love, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been thinking,” you said one day, a few months later.

Clay perked up at the sound of your voice from where he lay at your feet, soaking in the first few rays of sun. It had been well over a year since he had first laid eyes on you now, and a little over a few months since you began walking together. It was only a matter of time until the leaves would turn golden brown once more as autumn descended upon them.

“I dunno,” you murmured, knocking your legs back against the stone you sat on. “I feel like I should give you a name instead of just calling you wolf all the time.” You flashed him a shy grin, your gaze darting this way and that. “It feels kind of awkward, you know?”

He cocked his head. A name? Chances were you probably weren't going to guess his actual name. He supposed he wouldn’t mind a nickname. Then again, he didn’t think he would mind anything that you might do. Lowering himself closer to the ground, he let out a quiet bark of approval.

Your lips twitched the tiniest bit at the sound, and you hummed, drumming your fingers against your thigh. “How do you feel about... Aaron?”

His emerald eyes flashed as he took a step back, ducking his head the slightest bit. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and you leaned down to rest your chin on your hand. “Alright,” you murmured, “not Aaron, then.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a second. “Roy?”

Clay didn’t even have to think about it for more than a second before he was whimpering, pressing his head to his paws as he dropped his haunches close to the ground. You snorted at his obvious disapproval, tapping the toes of your shoes together with a pensive look.

“Okay,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel sound, “maybe we should try some less... human-sounding names.” You tilted your head, letting your gaze trail up the tree trunks and up at the sky above. The sun wasn’t shining directly into your eyes this time, and you blinked with surprise to see a puff of white fluff blocking out the light.  

“What about,” you offered with a hum, “Cloud?”

You glanced down again, only to see the wolf staring back at you blankly. You couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes, but you had a feeling he wasn’t quite satisfied with this one, either. Lowering your chin, you puffed your cheeks, glancing this way and that across the forest around you. You couldn’t just call him something like Leaf, or Sky—those would be too obvious, too plain for a wolf as lovely as him.

Sighing, you let your eyelids flutter shut, letting the sun wash over your cheeks and warming your skin. He was... special, even if you knew you were biased in your opinion. There was some special quality about him, something that made your chest swell and your heart skip a beat, almost as if he came straight out of a—

“Dream,” you whispered at last.

Clay’s ears perked up at the new name, and he lifted his head, flicking his ears at you. Maybe it was the name itself, maybe it was the way you said it, or maybe it was just you, but something about it just felt right. He barked once, lifting his tail as he stepped toward you.

You blinked at the sight, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Dream?” you repeated. “You like the sound of Dream?”

He barked again, leaping up onto his hind legs for a moment. You grinned, giggling at the sight of such a large wolf acting almost like a dog around you. “Alright,” you murmured, reaching your hand out toward him, “Dream it is.”

Leaning closer to you, he sank into your touch as you rubbed your hand over his head, scratching behind his ears as he let out a soft whine from the back of his throat. Your eyes softened, and you curled your knees a little closer to your chest, resting your chin on them.

“It probably doesn’t matter to you since you’re a wolf and all,” you said softly, your voice almost sounding shy in the quiet of the morning, “but my name is [Y/N].”

Clay felt a tender warmth blossom in the cracks beneath his chest, heat unfurling from the depths of his soul as something inside him swelled beyond belief. Your hand continued stroking his fur all the while, not at all noticing the way he pressed his head a little closer into your soothing touch, yearning and longing for more.

“[Y/N],” his heart sang, shooting from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. “[Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N].”

Had a name ever sounded as beautiful as yours?

Sapnap was going to wring Skeppy’s neck. Skipping out on a morning meeting was one thing, but skipping it to hang out with your mate? Not even he did that.

“[Y/N].”

Sapnap didn’t bother flinching as he turned to see Clay standing in front of him, panting like his life depended on it. This was far from the first time this had happened, and he was sure it most certainly would not be the last. “What?”

Clay shook his head, half-looking like he was about to collapse on the spot. “My mate’s name is [Y/N].”

Sapnap blinked, then his lips curled up into a smile. “Congrats for learning what it is, man,” he said honestly, patting Clay’s shoulder with his free hand. “That��s fantastic, really. You’re making progress.”

Clay swallowed, and he reached up to drag a hand down his face before letting it drop loosely at his side. “Sapnap,” he said slowly, his voice sounding quiet and raw, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows knit together, confusion rippling across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You can’t keep visiting?” Something uncomfortable and cold tugged at the back of his mind. “There’s no way you’re just gonna give up like that, are you?”

Clay’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I mean that...” He paused, squeezing his fist for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t think I can keep showing up in only my wolf form.”

The cogs in Sapnap’s whirred to life as he took in his friend’s clenched jaw. Then, his eyes went wide. “Are you saying...?”

Clay nodded, pursing his lips as he swallowed thickly. “I’m going to reveal who I am.”

His eyes flashed with determination.

“Who I really am.”

You hummed as you twisted the key in the hole, the back door locking shut with a click you had grown used to hearing every week for the past year and a half, now. Whirling around, you could already feel the smile start to spread across your face as you leapt off the porch and ran toward the well-worn path, the forest beckoning you forward with a distant howl. You didn’t remember when exactly your weekly hikes grew to become your favourite part of the week, but you couldn’t imagine life without them, anymore.

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest swelled at the fresh air rushing into your lungs, excitement flickering through your body with every step you took. You couldn’t wait to see Dream again, as strange as it may sound. He had grown to be a greater comfort than you would have ever imagined, even if he was just a wolf. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you knew your feelings were true—you couldn’t deny the warmth he made you feel.

Whipping around a tree trunk, you felt your heart skip a beat. You already knew Dream would be waiting for you at your rock—the one he had saved you from all those weeks ago. It had become a sort of meeting spot for them, and every week without fail, he would appear there, no matter how early or late you were.

As the shrubbery gave way to a clean, dirt trail, you lifted your head, squinting your eyes. You recognized this part of the forest, and you knew that you were getting closer. Just then, you saw it—the familiar streak of grey stone slanting up from the earth in a small cliff face. Usually, Dream would sit at the cliff base, his ears already pointed toward you. But today, your brows furrowed when you didn’t see a pair of ears facing you, but a head of hair.

Someone else was at your rock.

Slowing your pace to a walk, you paused for a moment, eyeing the figure sitting at your usual meeting spot. It was a man, you realized, and he was facing away from you. He wore a simple white shirt with jeans, and his hair was a shade of dirty blond with streaks of gold. Even if only from the back, it looked almost oddly familiar gleaming underneath the morning sun.

Taking a tentative step forward, you curled your fingers into your palm. “Hello?” you called hesitantly.

The man startled for a moment, then turned toward you, his face coming into view. As his gaze locked onto yours, he opened his mouth and uttered two simple words.

“Hi, [Y/N].”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

His voice was soft, gently wrapping around you like a soothing blanket. Your gaze only briefly raked over the comforting smile gracing his lips, instead focusing on the gleam in his eyes that danced with something warm and inviting.

His eyes were green—a shade of green that you had grown to know and adore.

No, you thought, your heart trembling in your chest. He couldn’t possibly be...

You took another step forward, closing the space between them by another few inches. With your eyebrows knitting together, your voice dropped to a small, curious whisper. “Dream?”

He shot you a crooked grin, chuckling softly. “That’s my name—or at least the one you gave me.” Leaning forward, he rose to his feet, the sun casting a bright streak of light across his cheeks. “My real name is Clay.”

All of a sudden, you felt as though all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. “Clay,” you repeated, your mind slowly growing murky with confusion, “but you’re also Dream. How...?”

A sheepish look skittered across his face, and he ducked his head. The way he lowered his chin was familiar, looking almost far too like a certain wolf you knew. “I—I guess you could say I live in two worlds with two forms,” he began. “Sometimes I’m a wolf, sometimes I’m a human.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders remained tense. “You already know one of them, but I didn’t want to keep hiding this form from you, so...” He gestured to himself with a bashful look. “...here I am.”

You blinked at him slowly, the muddled fog in your head slowly giving way to a strikingly warm clarity. But before the clouds could fully part, your lips began to move.

“You’re still pretty,” you blurted, your eyes going wide as soon as the words left your mouth.

In a flash, Clay’s cheeks flushed crimson, a haze of rosy pink dusting his freckles. “H-Huh?”

Waving your hands in front of you, you took a step back, embarrassment shooting up your spine. “I-I mean to say that you’re still pretty as a human! Because you’re pretty in both of your forms!” You stiffened, exasperation soaking your features as your knees buckled. “Wait, no, oh no, that’s also embarrassing... wait, please, um—”

Suddenly, he began to laugh. You fell quiet as you watched Clay clutch at his stomach, his lips split into a wide grin as peals of laughter tumbled from his lips. A familiar pit of warmth flared up in your stomach, one you had felt standing here with Dream so many times before.

He really was Dream, wasn’t he?

As his chuckles finally died down into silence, he stood upright once more, wiping a barely there tear from his eye. “I’m sorry for laughing,” he managed with an apologetic smile. “You must be confused about, well, everything.”

You offered him an honest, lopsided grin. “A little.”

His smile slowly melted from his features, and he cleared his throat as he turned to face you head-on. “Well, this is probably going to sound weird, but you and I...” He swallowed, his gaze flashing. “We’re mates.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise. Something in your chest slowly expanded. “Mates?” you repeated softly.

He nodded, his expression firm yet hesitant. “Yes, mates. It means that in one way or another, our souls are connected.” Inhaling deeply, he screwed his eyes shut before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to accept the mating bond.” His voice was trembling now, growing quieter by the second as he squeezed his hands into fists at his side. “You don’t owe me anything. I know this must be scary for you, and the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured because of m—”

“I’m not afraid.”

Clay’s eyes shot wide open, and he raised his head, shock etched into his features. “You aren’t?” he whispered.

The smile on your face was open and kind, and you shook your head. “No,” you murmured, sincerity lacing your every word. “Not at all. Dream, Clay... no matter what your name is, you’re still you, and I know you.” You took another step forward, your eyes never leaving his. There was hardly any space between them now, and Clay could feel his shoulders begin to shake with the sheer gravity of the moment. “I can’t explain it, but I just know I do.”

He swallowed, a whirlwind of anxiety and affection brewing just beneath the surface of his skin. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know I’m just a stranger to you.”

You shook your head, again. “You’re not,” you said quietly. “Not to me.”

Before he could even register what was happening, you were reaching for his hand, clasping your palms around his fingers and holding them gently. His heart flipped in his chest at the feeling of your skin against his, and something stung at the back of his eyes.

You were so warm.

“I want to do this,” you whispered, just for him to hear and him alone, “I promise. I—” You gulped, your gaze remaining steady. “I might not know anything about your world yet, but I want to learn.”

You squeezed his hand. “I want to learn more about you.”

Clay sucked in a ragged breath. With shaky fingers and a gentle touch, he pressed his other hand to the back of yours, squeezing back ever so slightly. “I want to learn more about you, too.”

The smile you flashed him easily outshone the sun and every star that scattered across the night sky, and for a moment, he thought his heart had stopped in his chest.

“I’m glad,” you said, your eyes gleaming with delight. “I think we’ll have plenty of time to do that on our hike.”

Right then, a breeze came drifting past, the distant scent of rain filling the air. The trees murmured with rustling leaves and flapping wings as two birds landed on a hanging branch above, gazing down at the two silhouettes standing at the base of the rock face. Just for a moment, or maybe even two, the entire forest went still.

And unbeknownst to you and Clay, right between your feet, a flower began to bloom.

[introloves]

— werewolf! bokuto + a/b/o + hunter / prey dynamic + knotting + ruts + slight dubcon + hurt/comfort + slight angst + fear + breeding + possessive! bokuto + overstimulation + human! & f! reader

— word count; 1.5k

he kept you warm against the harsh and bitter air from outside, chilling the apartment you both shared.

curling into his warm side, you felt the sleepy, lulled into a nice haze. but it seemed that in finding warmth and comfort, you missed the goosebumps forming against his skin, right against the places your body met his.

he should have been more careful, should have read the signs signaling the oncoming heat.

but he decided that spending time with you this close to the new moon was more worth it, he could hold himself back, contain the fever prickling under his skin.

it was stupid, in trying to prove that he could temper down the other side of him, regain hold of his humanity, he was signing a death wish.

“you okay kou?” you mumbled, sitting up against his squirming body.

the moment he felt you leave his side, he snapped up to grab you, clamping an arm around your upper arm.

he was hot, running at a temperature far too warm to be okay. it made you shake in worry for him, if he was sick he needed to get to the hospital, needed help! he needed-

“i’m so sorry.” he whimpered, or growled, you couldnt tell with the deep rumble that followed a high keen, coming straight from the center of his chest.

it took him no effort, no strength to tug you onto his lap, opening your legs to sit you comfortably over his hips.

he pressed his heated body closer, satiated at how good your smell encompassed him like this. pure instinct driving him to nuzzle in close to your pulse point, laving over it with his tongue, trying to get that sweet smell even stronger.

“sorry? for what...” you whispered, he seemed to be inching closer and closer to a higher heat, but his hands, arms closing down around your body made your head spin. in a finally attempt to reagain any control you uttered out a, “bo- stop we need to get you to the hospital you’re really hot.”

but the way you pushed, futilely, against his chest didnt sit well with him.

it was a lowly growl that made you stop, the sinking of something sharp- right where his hands gripped at your sides made you shut your mouth completely.

“you know there’s something different about me.” he began, words dripping down the side of your neck.

“but you still love me regardless.”

it was all so confusing, you’d never heard him sound like this, didnt think anyone human could produce a tremor this animalistic to their voice.

you’d never been held like this by him, he seemed to be moving, driven with pure adrenaline. shaky hands gripped at the giving flesh, leaving remnants of his heat. anywhere that there was fat, his fingers dug in tight.

“you love me-“ he choked out, his voice returning to his normal tone, tinted by an urgency.

“y/n,” he spat, crazed and rushed. “you need to run. go and lock yourself in the room. dont let me in, under any circumstances.” it wasnt going to be enough to stop him if he tried, but the growing need to do something to keep you safe overruled any other logical thinking.

he pushed you off, planting you on the floor in a hurry, stretching to his full stature, looming over you with a gaze that read; hungry.

you didnt think as you complied with his words, confused at it all. you just wanted to know what happened to your bokuto but with the way everything unfolded before you, there was truly no explanation.

as your feet pounded down the hall, the thought that you were being stalked- being chased after like a little rabbit crossed your mind briefly.

it made your legs move faster, the sound of something big, the sound of bokuto running behind you met your ears. the door of your shared room right against your fingertips.

you almost made it, the thrill of escaping let a laugh bubble in your throat. all before the floor was knocked from under your feet.

bokuto grabbed you before you crumbled down into the floor, planting your face, roughly, under the hallway carpet.

“not fast enough bunny.” he laughed.

“bokuto, whats going on, whats wrong.” you whimpered, but he wasnt listening, couldnt listen to the streams of questions leaving your mouth. all he could focus on was the growing saccharine scent wafting up from your cunt, peaking out from between your thighs. it wasn’t enough, he knew how good you could smell, at the peak of it, when he fucked you nice and hard, you smelled so divine. but it was all tainted by the sickly notes of pure fear, it wouldn’t do, he couldn’t have you smelling like that.

“its okay, i wouldn’t hurt you. have i ever hurt you?” he questioned, all the while sinking down to press his nose right to your cunt.

“n-no. you’ve never h-hurt me.” you bit back a moan when he licked over your cunt, tongue digging into the spot he knew your clit would be.

just like that he had you receptive, willing to do anything, because he was so good to you.

he let you go briefly, all to rip every peice of clothing you and him had on. once again the thought that something was wrong crossed your mind with how easy it was for him.

with clenched teeth, he wrapped his fingers around himself. letting muscle memory guide the tip of himself right into you.

spurred on by a desperate moan leaving your mouth, his name hanging off the tip of your tongue.

it was all okay, he’d fucked you so many times, this was no different?

right?

the sickly scent twisted its notes, entangling itself in your sweetness.

“its okay, my bunny. its all okay. ill fuck you good, like i always do.”

to prove it, he sinks in completely.

but he was overrun with you, completely taken over a need to have you.

throwing his head back, howling into the air, he took you with a punishing pace.

there was no noise that could leave your mouth, the familiar feeling of an orgasm looming in the distance made you melt against his hips.

strong hands holding you steady, growling with the obscene sounds your pussy made. he was going to pump you fulll, make you heavy with all the cum that he was going to give you, fucking you raw. if he was lucky, his cum would stick, breeding you like a good mate.

“you take me so good. you like it dont you?” there was no answer you could give him that would change his mind, he could smell it on you. sweat dripping down your back, pooling at the heat of his hands against your soft sides, it couldnt be more obvious.

“koutarou.” you gasped, shaking at the orgasm that finally graced your body.

it was all a reaction to you, he couldnt help the way your cunt squeezed him this tight. with a final push inside, knocking you down flat to the floor, knees shaking,

it began.

your chest burned as you took in a sharp lungful of air. his dick seemed to inflate, right at the base of your pussy, locking him tightly inside. at the peak of the swelling, his hips stuttered, bringing you along while thick ropes of cum stuffed you. pulling the stretched skin of you around his swollen dick.

“w-wh-! bo, bo it hurts!” you squealed, kicking, trying to get away. frenzied with fear, scared that he was going to rip something.

but he held you, warm hand placing right at the base of your tummy, trying to sooth your fear and shaking. he bent in close, begging for forgiveness of it all.

“i know it hurts, i’m so sorry.” he whimpered, tongue heavy with pleasure and guilt.

all fucked out and spent, you laid there, tears streaming down your face, you couldnt feel anything anymore.

it felt like it took forever for the swelling to calm down, but once it did, he quickly scrambled off you.

“angel.” he whispered, flipping you over, searching for your gaze. a sharp pang hit his gut at the sight of your wet eyes, and trembling lower lips.

“oh my baby, i’m so sorry.” he all but cried, there was already a hate, rooted deep into his being at the way he was, driven by an animal he couldnt control. after this, if you wanted him gone, he was more than willing to pack it all up to keep you safe.

your hand, trembling and sweaty, wrapped around the hand holding your face tenderly. finally he was back, there was the man that kissed you gently every morning.

“kou.” you wheezed, smiling at him.

it took a lot of effort, but you smiled.

“n-next time. you gotta prep me first.”

his eyes flittered down from your face, distracted by the clenching of your pussy, leaking everything he had worked so hard to pump you full with, smearing it down your thighs, pussy lips, and carpet.

his jaw clenched at the challenge, laughing at the thought that you’d be so weak, of course you were strong enough to take him.

you were his mate after all.

[blxxdyvalentine19xx]

Music festivals & Conception

Machine Gun Kelly x jxdn

Lollapalooza Music Fest - Argentina,  South America

Lifting his sunglasses, Colson took a good look at Jaden in a white tank top paired with red overalls, the young musician wore a geeky smile accenting the dimples in his cheeks. Admiring him, he shushed Slim who had been talking "damn, you look...." Colson licked his lips when Jaden looked at him "just a second" he strided over to his friend turned boyfriend, slid a hand under the fabric of Jaden's tank top and pulled it up just under his pecks. "God, you're just so pretty, baby."

A shiver ran through his spine as Colson's slender fingers ran up his stomach, tracing tattoo ink as they climbed. "Why are you like this?" Jaden locked a hand around the man's wrist, looking up to his boyfriend's blue eyes roaming his upper body. "Kells bab-" he swallowed when Colson leaned down to kiss his cheek, the hand on his stomach flattened out across it.

"Like what?" Colson looked down at his hand, smiling as Jaden grabbed his wrist. "Because I love you..." he lifted his head into a kiss, humming as Jaden's other hand gripped the back of his neck. "Fuck, I wish you could have my babies" Colson whispered against the man's lips, it was a shame that the very idea was impossible. "They'd be so fuckin' cute." He dropped his head to Jaden's shoulder.

"I love you too" Jaden whimpered into the kiss as Colson rubbed his stomach pulling him closer with his other hand. "Yeah? Our kids would be soo cute" he grinned when Colson's nose brushed over his neck. "My eyes, your hair" Jaden indulged his boyfriend's kink as it usually led to the man being gentle with him.

Listening, he laughed happily at the image and kissed his boyfriend's neck. "Just imagine it for a second, me running after a little one again and you with your happy smile." Colson grinned when Jaden kissed his head, a tattooed arm wrapping around his waist. "Makes me miss when Casie was little."

☀️ ☀️ ☀️ Jaden's hotel room

Fumbling with the key card, Jaden laughed when Colson's lashes tickled his neck. "You really wish I could have your babies?" He tipped his head as his boyfriend kissed over his jaw, the hand on his stomach cradling him. "Goddd, I wish I could" Jaden finally got the door open and pulled Colson in with him.

"Mhmm" Colson sucked at his boyfriend's neck as Jaden pushed up against him. "The thought of my babies in your belly...." he bit down lightly when the man rolled his hips, tightening his grip, he basked in the warmth. "You'd be so pretty and pregnant." Colson's eyes lidded when Jaden kissed him.

"Tell me all about it" he ran his fingers through Colson's hair and grinned when his boyfriend was hard against his thigh. "I'd be so damn pretty if I was pregnant." Jaden spun around so he was face to face with the man holding him. "I wanna hear your thoughts." Part of him wished he really could have kids with Colson, the thought threaded its way into his heart.

"I don't know, I see us having a future, babies, huge careers, you as a daddy" Colson's breath shook as Jaden's eyes opened a room in his heart. "You make me want it all Jaden." He kissed his boyfriend, breathing him in as Jaden's arms wrapped around his neck. "Casie, a family, you" Colson picked Jaden up and walked to the bed.

Squealing as he was picked up, Jaden hid his face in Colson's neck. "You'd support me and hold me when I get emotional and stuff?" He wrapped his legs around his boyfriend, his body curling as Colson's hands cupped his bum. "And love me when I'm telling you to fuck off and feeling like shit?" Jaden looked up when he was lowered onto the mattress and Colson hovered over him.

Humming as Jaden talked like it could be a possibly, Colson nodded "I'd kiss you and tell you how beautiful you were." He leaned down kissing the man's nose. "I would wait on you hand and foot" Colson slid the straps off Jaden's shoulders and peppered him in light kisses as they both laughed. "You'd be my baby mo-daddy, it's my job to take care of you."

"I'd be god damned honored to carry your babies" he kicked out of his over alls and smiled when Colson wore a gleeful look on his face. "Make me fat and pregnant then" Jaden pushed Colson down to his stomach, gasping as the man kissed all over it. "I love you fucking much Colson."

* * * *

Wrapping an arm around Jaden's waist, Colson groaned as he rolled his hips, rocking into his boyfriend. "You're gonna be so pretty, Jade" he laced his fingers through his boyfriend's and looked down. "You already are but you'd be gorgeous"

Gripping Colson's shoulders, Jaden moved a hand to his stomach and moaned as he could feel the man bulging inside of him. "F-uck, Colson" he shook, locking Colson in with his thighs. "You better fuckin' worship me like you are now" sex was always an event to them but this time was intense.

"I'd worship the ground you fucking walked on baby" he set a slow and gentle pace as Jaden leveraged with his feet pushing him forward after evey pull backwards. "Fuuck you're so tight Jade" Colson was close, too close to the edge this soon "mmmm" he buried his head in Jaden's neck and moved Jaden's hand further down.

"Don't you dare come yet" wrapping his hand around the base of Colson's dick, Jaden squeezed lightly and pushed him back a little. "Breathe, Colson baby, breathe for me" he bit back a moan and gripped the back of the man's head, fingers grazing the man's scalp.

* * * *

Dropping onto the bed next to Jaden, he spread his fingers across his own chest as a warmth spread through it. "Ohh my god, y-ou you're, fuck, I'm so in love with you Jaden" Colson grinned as the black haired man came back to himself, dragging a breath into his lungs.

Feeling surprisingly limber, Jaden stretched out and dragged his fingers through his hair, messy and curling at the ends. "Heyy" he was unable to stop a laugh when he found Colson admiring his flushed cheeks and hickey marked body. "I think..." Jaden flipped over onto his stomach and crossed his feet, throwing an arm over Colson's tattooed abdomen "...you fucked me good."

Moving his hand to Jaden's bum, he grabbed one cheek and squeezed it "then I did my job right" Colson grinned, licking his lips as Jaden's cheeks were pink with a blush. "There was just so much to me seeing you in that shirt." He lifted a brow as Jaden kissed his chest over his heart. "Love locked?" Colson hummed when his boyfriend looked up, nodding.

☀️ ☀️ ☀️ ☀️

9 weeks later - Los Angeles, North America

Waking up earlier than usual, Jaden scrunched his nose up as he felt nauseous, figuring it was nothing more than a flu, he thought nothing of it when he had the sudden urge to puke. "I think I'm gonna be sick"  throwing the blanket off of himself, Jaden's feet hit the floor and ran to the bathroom.

Being jarred awake, Colson groaned as the bed dipped upwards on Jaden's side. "Whatsamatter baby?" He pulled the pillow further under his head and rolled over onto his back. "Jade?" Colson pulled himself up, leaning on his when  he heard his boyfriend throwing up in the bathroom. "Aww shit, want me to make some soup or something?"

Not sure if the vomiting or the dry heaving was worse, Jaden wrapped his fingers around the toilet seat and grimaced at the arcid taste of bile in his throat. "N-no soup" he managed when he heard Colson's voice from the bedroom. "Fuck!" Throwing up again, Jaden dropped his head onto his arm and hummed when he felt his boyfriend's hands come to a rest on his shoulders.

"Toast? Crackers?" He rubbed Jaden's shoulders as the man relaxed a little "might be a good idea to take the day slow" Colson waited until his boyfriend was sure he was done throwing up before bringing him into his lap. "How about ginger ale?" He wrapped his arms around Jaden, who was whiny when he was sick.

Snaking an arm around Colson's shoulder, he buried his face in the man's chest, breath shaking as his boyfriend held him. "Just wanna sit here for a minute" Jaden pressed a hand against Colson's collarbone and pushed against him as the rocking only made him nauseous again. "No, just stay fuckin' still."

* * * * 2 weeks later

Waking up late, Colson ran through every curse word he knew and threw his jeans from the previous night on and grabbed his phone, heading to the bathroom. "Still feeling like shit?" He asked when he found Jaden layed out on the tile, hand opening and closing.

"Mhmm" he pulled himself up into a seated position and looked up as Colson knelt down. "Couldn't even handle the smell of eggs this morning" Jaden shuddered, accepting the glass of water the blonde offered him. "Was only sick the once though" he downed half the glass and pouted.

Pressing a hand to the man's cheek, Colson pursed his lips "you gonna be okay if I go out today?" He tried to resist the urge to squish Jaden's cheek and sat on the floor with his boyfriend. "I'm late as it is, I can cancel if you want" Colson smiled when Jaden grabbed his hand bringing it to his stomach.

"You know when I played into your breeding kink" Jaden smiled as Colson rubbed his stomach "I didn't think it would end up with me getting pregnant" he looked down as the man spun so his head was on his lap. "That's your baby in there." Jaden had been shocked at first but started to be okay with with it when he told Colson.

"Guess I fucked you a little too good" he laughed when Jaden flipped him off. "It is isn't it" Colson grinned up at his boyfriend, the man's eyes might as well carry the future in them. "That's our baby, ours" he leaned up, kissing Jaden's abdomen and sat up. "I miss all the baby stuff, and all the first 'n shit."

Later in the day

Sprawled out on the couch in his boxers and one of Colson's shirts, Jaden was curled up with a blanket and a Pixar movie on the TV when his boyfriend came in. "How'd it go?" He asked as the man had been in the studio most of the day and stopped at McDonalds on his way home.

"The studio or McDonald's?" Colson grinned when Jaden sat up and flipped him off. "Mm, the studio was alright, Rook threatened to shove a drum stick up my ass if I didn't stop teasing him about Travis." He handed the ginger ale to his boyfriend and settled onto the couch. "How'd your day go?"

"I would have done it for him" he pointed out as Colson kissed his cheek, the man could be an asshat at times and sweet other times. "Better, I kept lunch down today" Jaden had been surprised when Chase dropped by with burgers and pepto bismol. "Chase came over and didn't threaten me with drum sticks." He grinned as his friend and Rook had been dating for a few months now.

Raising his eyebrow, Colson acted hurt as Jaden said he'd have done it for Rook. "I don't like anything more than a finger up my ass." He wasn't much of a bottom, but took one for the team when Jaden was set on doing the fucking. "That's good, Rook said Chase planned on coming by." Colson knew jaden hadn't really told anyone other than Chase outside of Colson's own friends.

Looking to his boyfriend Jaden laughed when Colson grimaced at the thought of bottoming "there's only a select few I could ever see making you willingly bottom." He stole a few of the man's fries as his feet were brought into Colson's lap. "Mm, we played Mario kart and ate ice cream."

☀️ ☀️ ☀️ ☀️ 17 weeks pregnant

17 weeks, staring to show, Jaden opted for sweats and his make sure your friends are okay hoodie. Brushing his teeth, he grinned at the sound of  Casie, Colson, Rook and Chase downstairs along with an explosion of laughter. "Let's get to it then, baby" Jaden made his way downstairs and came up behind Colson sliding his arms around the man's neck. "Good morning" he handed his phone to the blonde.

Watching as Colson's face lit up, Rook smiled when his friend said something about pomegranate "it's crazy seeing how soft you've become lately" he spoke as the man showed him the screen "you're great with Casie, you'll do great Kells." Rook slid an arm around Chase as the younger man nuzzled up to him.

"I've done this all before but thatdon't mean I'm not scared to death of fucking up." Colson handed Jaden's phone back to the man, smiling as Jaden sat down next to him. "Its the firsts I'm excited for, Rookie" he looked over, his heart warm as Casie snapped a photo of them. "Like you when you were learning your ABC's Casie." Colson looked back over when he felt Jaden grinning against his cheek.

"Baby's staring to kick" Jaden whispered, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek as the man pulled him into a warm hug, hands on his hips. "I love you so so much" he looked up, nodding when Chase signed 'it's a good day? You feeling alright?' "Well, I'm pregnant and I'm gonna be fat, but yeah, I feel good." Jaden grinned as his friend relaxed into Rook's side.

Seeing her father happy like he was told Casie that everything was as it should be for once, the rocker was more grounded and had more to keep living for, her, Jaden, a baby. "You do alright with me, Rook's right, And that kid's lucky to be yours." She gave him a fist bump as he smiled proud.

* * * * 20 weeks pregnant

Having put off the finding out of the gender, Jaden shook his head as the nurse was about to tell him and Colson. "I don't want to know yet, you can tell him though if he wants to." He wanted it to be a surprise as gender wasn't as important to him as their baby being healthy. "He's done this all before" Jaden ran his fingers through Colson's hair as the man's head was buried in his neck.

"I wanna know" Colson looked up, grinning as Jaden gave him the option, though his boyfriend didn't want to know. "I have a girl as it is, she's over the moon about being a big sister." He laced his fingers through Jaden's as the man had his eyes covered.

Writing the gender on a green sticky note, the nurse smiled ad the blonde was so involved already. "You really seem to care, they're gonna have amazing parents with how in love you two are." She slid in in an envelope before handing it to the man with pink hair and smiled. "Don't loose that now."

"He's awesome about it already" he smiled when Colson helped him up kissing him softly. "Let's go for cheesecake, invite Chase and Rook?" Jaden returned the kiss as the man slid the envelope into his pocket. "Make sure Chase gets that, yeah?" He pulled Colson's hand to his stomach as the baby kicked.

Looking down as his hand was brought to his boyfriend's stomach, Colson's breath caught in his throat as their baby kicked again. "Ohh my god, I'm going to be a daddy again" he laughed as Jaden looked at him with love in his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure he gets it." Pulling his phone out, he sent a text to Rook telling them to meet at cheesecake factory.

* * * * Noon - cheesecake factory

Being handed a white envelope, Chase looked up "is this...can I look?" He stopped mid bite of strawberry cheesecake and set the fork down. "Yess!!" Getting the okay from Jaden, he broke the seal and out of view looked at the sticky note, a boy. "That's 20 bucks Rook, pay up drummer boy." Chase put his hand out.

"Damn it" getting his wallet out, Rook got a twenty and looked to Jaden "this smartass called it and of course he had to be right." He laughed when Jaden grinned "I seriously thought I had this in the fuckin bag" handing his boyfriend the 20 he smiled as Chase handed the envelope back to Colson.

"Don't tell me but Chase is intuitive as fuck" he winked as his friend poked proud of himself and pocketed the 20. "He thinks he's a hot piece of ass too." Jaden smirked as the man defended himself.

"My momma says I'm beautiful and boyfriend thinks I'm hot, they can't both be wrong" Chase grinned when Rook rolled his eyes "I was right fair and square, a deal is a deal." He typed it into his phone and leaned against the back of the booth.

☀️ ☀️ ☀️ ☀️ 40  weeks - week after baby is born.

Sending the photo to Chase, Jaden typed out the name and cracked a tired smile as Kellen cooed up at him from his bassinet. 'Kellen Jason Hossler-Baker.' He laid his phone on the coffee table and ran his knuckle over the boys cheek. "You're worth all of it baby" Jaden looked up when Colson asked if he could hold him. "He's yours too Kells, you don't have to ask."

"I know, but I hate taking him from you" Colson stole a kiss, humming as Jaden drooped onto the couch. "I told Kellin about the baby's name, he was over the moon about it." He leaned down, picking their son up and supported his head. "Yeah! Named after your daddies and a badass rockstar." Colson grinned as Kellen's blue eyes sparkled.

"Your not taking him from me if I'm telling you you're allowed to hold him." He smiled warmly as Colson held Kellen close to him, cooing as well as the baby smiled, only a reflex, but a smile none the less. "He texted me this morning, said he was honored." Jaden texted Chase back a 'yeah! Anytime, bring those cupcakes too.'

Sitting down, he was careful to shift so he was holding Kellen in his arms. "How'd you sleep?" Colson asked as Jaden had passed out in bed around 3 in the morning and slept till 10. "I know it wasn't much but at least it was some." He smiled as Jaden's blue eyes peeked out from black hair.

Curling up, Jaden relaxed as Colson was comfortable with Kellen "I slept alright, would have slept better if you were there" he ruffled his messy curly hair and took a sip of the iced coffee he'd been nursing on for the last hour. "He likes you, always looks at you like he needs to figure out who the pretty man holding him is." Jaden smiled as Colson blushed "that's your daddy, kellen."

* * * * Rook x Chase's place.

Getting the text, Chase hopped off the couch and stretched out. "I'm making cupcakes, go get dressed." He groaned when Rook slapped his ass. "Hey, hands off" he was still sore from the night before and gave his boyfriend a warning glare. "We're going over today." Chase pulled the older man up off the couch and smiled.

"I ain't dressing up or anything" he grabbed Chase's hips as the taller man pursed his lips. "You can but you aren't getting me in much more than jeans and a t shirt." Rook pulled Chase into a kiss, grinning when his boyfriend tugged at his bottom lip. "You're gonna spoil that kid aren't you?" He smiled, breaking away before heading for the stairs.

"Long as you have clothes on I don't care what you wear" Chase said on his way to the kitchen. "Someone's got to, and Jaden's my friend so it's going to be me" he found a cake mix and got the stuff out to make it as well as blue food colouring. "Who would have thought Jaden would be the one with a kid first."

Walking into their bedroom, Rook switched his boxers and grabbed a Motley Crüe band tee out of the dresser. "If he's anything with the kid as he is with dogs he'll have me feelin' baby fever" he found a pair of pants and wiggled into them. Running his fingers through his hair, Rook grabbed his red leather jacket and Chase's earrings.

Pouring the cake mix into a cupcake tray, he looks up when Rook came into the kitchen. "That's dressed down?" Chase lifted an eyebrow when his boyfriend slid his feet into a pair of 1460's (Doc Mertins). "You look hot though" he bit his lip when his boyfriend did up the laces, muttering something about 'I'm dressed, don't go trying to get in my pants now.' "Watch those for me, I'm gonna go get dressed." Chase put his earrings in and kissed Rook's cheek.

* * * * Jaden and Colson's place

Getting the door, Colson let go of a comfortable sigh when Rook hugged him "hey! Good to see you man" he smiled as the spitfire drummer congratulated him. "Ohh thank God" Colson groaned when Chase handed him a coffee "we ran out this morning becuase someone wanted ice coffee."

"Was Rook's idea" Chase handed Jaden an ice coffee when his friend came up behind Colson. "You're a fuckin' genius with the name" he smiled as the vocalist pulled him into a hug and looked at him. "You look good, tired, but good" Chase grinned when Rook set the cupcakes on the island.

"Like I really needed another coffee but thanks" Jaden took a sip of it and beelined for the cupcakes. "So you've figured out both his first and middle  names are a combination of mine and Colson's, moniker and legal." He grinned as Chase has gone all fancy on the icing. "Kellen's also tribute to Kellin Quinn." 

* * * *

Sitting in one of the living room chairs, Rook sucked a breath inwards as Chase was lost on the baby, a smile on his face as Jaden had let his friend bottle feed Kellen. "What?" He mumbled when Colson had been watching him, a curious look in the man's eyes.

"You getting baby fever on me are yah?" He whispered in Rook's ear, handing his friend a beer. "I saw that look in your eyes just now." Colson grinned when Jaden looked at him "Chase holding a baby has you messed up doesn't it." He went over to his boyfriend and played oblivious to Jaden's knowing glance.

"Not a shit clue what you're talking  about Kells" he bit his lip when Jaden looked last Colson at him. "Don't" Rook shook his head as the man smiled. He might be in trouble if Chase got the idea of wanting kids so soon. Taking a sip of his beer, he looked at Chase, sighing as the man caught his glance.

"I ain't saying shit" Jaden stole a sip of Colson's beer and grinned as his boyfriend pressed a hand to stomach. "Somebody's imagining a future aren't they?" He whispered into a kiss, relaxing as Chase effortlessly set Kellen back in the bassinet.

Knowing he'd end up attached to the kid, Chase shot a look to Jaden who was smiling. "You two make adorable kids" he avoided Rook's attention as a new feeling settled in his chest.

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Love Letters: The Bargain

A/N: For context, this goes between Part 7 and Part 8 of the main series 😊

Warnings: reference to torture/implied torture, slight unhealthy relationship, betrayal, humanization of utterly vile people (sorry y’all I just really don’t like Supervillain), guilt, self-doubt, reference to blood/blood mention, hostage situation, slightly suggestive??? I guess???, maybe a smidgen of codependency, possessiveness (fairly certain its mutual tbh)

My Masterlist | Love Letters masterlist | Taglist Info

Superhero spared a lingering glance down into the grim light of the basement over their shoulder. Their partner’s hard glower seared into the back of their neck as they waited for them to step over the threshold. The quake of Superhero’s hands was reduced to a tremble as they finally crested the top of the rickety basement stairs and stepped over the threshold into the upper level of Supervillain’s safe house. The master criminal shut the basement door behind them with a controlled rage.

“Thank you,” Superhero breathed, their voice barely audible over the mourning of their heart as they watched through tear-glazed eyes while their lover kept their back to them. Supervillain said nothing as they finished clicking the locks and bolts into place, their keyring jingling gaily in the otherwise choked silence of the utility room.

“Does it bother you,” Supervillain started quietly but no less terrifying as they half turned to glance at them. “That I’m like this? That I can torture someone and feel nothing?”

There was no hiding the baffled expression on their face as Supervillain moved to face them squarely. They were absolutely covered in blood. Crimson speckles dotted their face like freckles. Blood crusted around their fingernails and down their arms like tendrils of an abstract tattoo. More blood splatted their clothes like a patchy tie-dye.

When Superhero didn’t immediately answer, too confused and shocked as their body went slack at the question, Supervillain closed the gap between them.

“Does it, love?”

Staring at them with wide eyes, Superhero gathered their thoughts up as best as they could, but Hero’s shrill screams still echoed in their ears. Utterly numb, their mind provided no filter, no caution, and no tact for the answer that spilled from their lips.

“Sometimes,” they murmured, never once breaking eye contact as they continued hoarsely, “not always, but sometimes.”

Supervillain nodded once, their tongue clicking behind their teeth. Clenching their jaw, Supervillain looked away. Their body leaned as if they made to walk away, but Superhero caught their face between their hands and gently encouraged the master criminal to face them.

“They were my friend,” they said—pleaded—in the hopes that Supervillain would understand. “I-I couldn’t…” Tears choked Superhero’s throat. A hand wrapped around their each of their wrists. Supervillain’s thumb drew circles on the skin of their inner wrist slowly. Tears falling, Superhero forced themselves to finish explaining themselves. They’d never once gone down into that basement, had often opted to have Supervillain visit them if they had…‘guests’ as Supervillain now referred to their victims rather than stay with them and have to witness someone’s torture from afar, but today…

Today, they’d had no choice.

Between the threat that Hero posed to their entire plan and the fact that they knew what their lover was capable of, Superhero’s heart hadn’t been able to sever the loyalty they felt toward their friend, even if they’d tried to convince themselves otherwise.

“I couldn’t l-listen to,” they whispered, their voice cracking and failing due to their choked throat and loss of oxygen from their stuffy nose. “…to their screams.”

A soft tug on their wrist and an arm sliding around their waist had them falling into Supervillain’s arms. A careful hand caressed the back of their head as they buried their face in Supervillain’s chest, the other resting their chin on top of their head, tucking them against their body like a shield.

“I shouldn’t have let them carry on like that,” Supervillain said quietly. “I didn’t realize how hard this would be on you, that you still loved them, or that my soundproofing needed updating.”

Superhero hiccupped, shifting just a fraction to look Supervillain in the eye with a frown. “What?”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold it against you,” Supervillain offered honestly despite their drawn face. “I could see Hero’s appeal, I suppose. It was their quiet steadfastness that drew you to them, wasn’t it?”

“What?” Superhero repeated, their brow furrowing as their chest loosened with each sob that subsided, “No, Hero and I are—were—friends, good friends. I’ve never loved them like this.”

Supervillain’s head snapped to the door behind them, but not before Superhero saw that dark, wrathful look darken their face. Supervillain’s hold around their waist tightened for a moment before it eased, their jaw twitching as they stared at that padlocked door as if they could see Hero in the depths below.

Once more, Superhero took their lover’s face between their hands and forced their lover to meet their eyes, asking for their undivided attention.

“I love you, even if I can’t always understand this side of you,” they breathed. “I never loved Hero, never saw them as anything more than a friend, so please, please, leave them be. I choose you, no matter what.”

“All of me?”

Forgetting whose blood covered their lover, Superhero pressed a chaste kiss to the master criminal’s lips. “All of you.”

Supervillain dipped their head, catching Superhero’s chin with their hand but Superhero shook their head, lightly pushing against their chest. Pouting, Supervillain opened their mouth to protest, but Superhero shook their head more firmly. “You should really wash up.”

Sighing heavily, Supervillain’s hands slid from Superhero’s waist. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe…” they trailed off, turning away. Blinking, as if dazed to find themselves staring at the utility room door, Supervillain started anew. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”

“I won’t be far,” Superhero promised.

~

Showered and dressed in their finest loungewear, Supervillain joined their lover in bed. Hours passed by like that, with just the two of them, cozy and in the company of each other as they watched the shadow of the clouds traverse the mountains in the distance and the sun arc across the sky. Supervillain played with Superhero’s hand, lacing their fingers together and comparing their scars or lack thereof. Their lover was a solid warmth, a source of calm and comfort, against their chest as they sat together, relishing in the quiet for the first time in what felt like…an eternity. The sun slowly sank below the distant mountaintops, bathing the world outside their wide bedroom window in golds and rosy pink. Supervillain gently squeezed their lover’s waist and pressed a slow kiss to their shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” they mumbled against the bit of exposed skin there. “I should’ve made different arrangements.”

Superhero pressed their free hand against the hand on their waist. “It’s okay. I know you would’ve if…if we had known it would bother me so.”

“You don’t have to be like me,” the master criminal reminded them. “I don’t expect you to. And in fact, I prefer it.” Their voice turned soft like the way shafts of sunlight filter through a breeze. “You make me feel safe, safer than any other relationship I’ve ever had.”

Superhero shifted in their hold, but Supervillain didn’t falter as their lover angled themselves to see them, staring up at them with an open expression. Supervillain wouldn’t necessarily call it a naïve or innocent expression—Superhero was too knowing for such a look—but it was certainly wholesome.

Smiling against their lover’s temple, Supervillain said, “I know you’re not using me to get what you want, or that you’ll betray me when things go wrong. For some reason, you actually have it in your heart to love me, and I will never forget that.”

“I’m glad,” Superhero whispered, tilting their face up so their nose bopped against theirs. “I’ve never forgotten that day, you know. When we were rookies and you were just starting to get a reputation. You saved my life, do you remember?”

A chuckle rumbled through their chest. “In all honesty, my darling, I hadn’t meant to save you…but I’m rather glad I did.”

Even as they smiled and failed to suppress their laugh, Superhero pulled themselves away. Playfully smacking Supervillain’s chest, Superhero scrambled from between the master criminal’s legs and sat back on their calves beside them on the bed. “Oh, I forgot how loving you can be!”

“I did say I was glad, didn’t I?” Supervillain laughed, wrapping their hands around their lover’s waist to pull them back against them, savoring their warmth as they lounged back against the soft cushions behind their head.

“I’m not convinced,” Superhero sniffed, closing their eyes and turning their head away in mock pride.

Supervillain smirked. Ghosting their fingers up Superhero’s waist and along their ribcage, the high-ranking hero squirmed in their gasp. The proud line of their lips quivered. The noble jut of their chin weakened as Supervillain continued their light tickling.

“I suppose,” they started, “I should remind you then?”

Superhero’s eyes flashed open as Supervillain cupped their cheek and guided their lips to theirs. Slow, steady, reassuring, they wanted to prove to their lover where their heart was, even if they’d already done so a thousand times over.

Breaking apart for air, Supervillain nudged their nose against Superhero’s, their foreheads touching, breaths mingling. “Does that spark your memory?”

Superhero hummed, pressing impossibly closer. “Hold me?”

“I had no intentions of letting go.” Supervillain frowned as they noticed the crease form between their lover’s brow.

Sober, a dark shadow crept into Superhero’s eyes as they slowly peeled their eyes open and repositioned themselves so they were instead draped over their legs instead of sat between them with their back to the master criminal’s chest. “They’ll be looking for Hero—all of them. We’ll have to move forward with our plan sooner than we thought, if we don’t want word getting out that we have the sword and if Hero managed to put together our plans to wipe out crime for good with that power of theirs.”

“I know,” Supervillain said, holding their gaze, drawing circles into Superhero’s sides with their thumbs. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Superhero nodded, wrapping their arms around Supervillain’s neck and resting their head against Supervillain’s shoulder. “I still feel awful…about betraying them like this.”

Supervillain let their lover’s words settle for a moment before they could respond. “If it would help you… I’ll have them looked at, but nothing more. We can’t let them go free, you know that.”

“You would do that for me?” Superhero asked, a fraction of hope sounding in their voice.

“It’s the least I could do, after all you’ve done for me,” Supervillain confirmed. “But it can’t be either of us, so Henchmen will have to see to them.”

“That’s fine,” Superhero said after a moment. Their voice had shrunk and their next words were hardly audible over the utter silence of the safe house. “Aside from our promise, they probably wouldn’t want to see me anyway.”

Supervillain bit their tongue to stop the joke on the tip of their tongue. They didn’t want to upset Superhero by reminding them that Hero would probably much rather see their former friend than themselves. Instead, they only held their lover tighter and offered them what meager solace they could. “Once you wield the sword, the world will be safer than it ever has been. If Hero is as goodly as I assume them to be, then they just might find it in their heart to forgive you. And even if they can’t, you’ll always have me.”

“And you’ll always have me,” they said softly. “We’ll have each other if nothing else.”

“If that’s so, I’d rather have nothing else,” Supervillain smiled softly, “you’re everything to me now.”

Taglist: @selene-stories

Shining Armor (Spin Off Chapter that Picks Up Immediately After This One But Before Part 8; not linked because there are some SERIOUS content warnings. If you'd like to read this, it's linked on the series masterlist, though I highly recommend you read the warnings. This isn't necessary reading because the next part kind of mirrors it without all of the graphic violence)

Part 8

[miyaagis]

demon lover

+ pairing. incubus! oikawa / fem reader / incubus! kuroo

+ genre. dark, smut

+ word c. 2,378

+ warnings. snuff, dub/non con, implied somnophilia and stalking, facial, choking, fellatio, creampie

+ author n. part 2 of monster. there are some references from it, but u should be able to understand the story even if u didn’t read that one before :)

it has been around five weeks since your encounter with oikawa and you’ve felt restless ever since.

it doesn’t matter where you are —on the streets, at uni, even in your own bathroom— there’s always an unsettling feeling of being watched.

but the nights are worse.

as soon as you close your eyes, images of him smirking down at you plague your mind and dreams. he’s repeatedly having his way with you, fucking you and making you come over and over again until you wake up. leaving you sore and wide awake for the rest of the night.

the days go by and it’s as if your energy is being sucked out of you, not even coffee nor energy drinks are able to keep you awake and away from the haunting dreams.

your body feels weak, you are weak. your fragile-looking body, covered in bruises and dull, sunken eyes easily attract looks of concern from your friends and family. but what’s most concerning it’s the fact that even if you’re restless, you keep thinking about that night.

your body and soul ache for him and you wonder if it’ll take another year until you can see him again.

it’s not until you’re at your weakest, delirious, and on the verge of insanity when he shows up. or at least that’s what you hope, being unable to distinguish your dreams from reality anymore.

“you’ve been such a good girl,” he coos in your ear, stroking your hair out of your face and leaning closer, “have you been waiting for me?”

you nod frantically, whimpering when his lips touch your cheek. he shuts you up with his mouth, his thumbs grazing the skin of your cheekbones and making you melt.

the blissful state you’re in vanishes when an unknown pair of hands start removing your clothes.

your eyes widen, trying to get a look at the intruder but oikawa keeps your face fixed on him with a strong grip on your jaw.

“i brought a friend, hope you don’t mind.”

you take a peek over his shoulder, and your eyes meet a pair of menacing ones. you recognize him immediately as oikawa’s friend from the party —another demon.

“hello, kitten. don’t mind me; i just had to see with my own eyes the pretty pussy that he has been bragging about.”

the dark-haired demon’s lips curl up in a smirk when he sees the troubled look on your face. but it’s true, oikawa hasn’t shut up about you so it's reasonable kuroo asked him to share.

his hands roam over your legs, forcing them open and keeping a firm grip on them when you try resisting him. he takes his cock out of his pants with one hand and lines it up with your entrance, marveling at the sight of your folds.

“oh and you can call me master too.”

he slides in without warning nor prepping you, the burn of your walls stretching as they make room for his cock bringing tears to your eyes.

you don’t want him. it should be oikawa, not him.

“s-stop, please,” you whine, looking at oikawa when kuroo refuses to acknowledge your pleas. but his eyes harden, a dark look taking over his features.

“don’t be rude to our guest and shut up.”

his words break your heart, tears now falling freely down your cheeks as you keep being fucked by the other demon.

“shit, kitten. i can barely fit inside your pussy. let me stretch you out, yeah?” kuroo groans as he keeps forcing his way inside your walls, his girth finally sheathing in and causing him to breath out in relief, “that’s it, sweetheart.”

“isn’t she amazing?” oikawa smiles brightly at his friend, craning his neck to the side to observe your pussy being abused by kuroo’s cock, “the neediest cunt i’ve ever had.”

you clench involuntarily at oikawa’s words which make kuroo groan.

his hand slaps your thigh only to grab a handful of it and squeeze it, “i knew you’d love my cock.”

you’re about to protest when kuroo places your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, resting his upper weight on top of you.

“no! wait– please. too much! ‘s too much, please!” you try to push him away, your nails digging into the skin of his forearms but your desperate wails fall on deaf ears.

kuroo’s pace is relentless, every graze of his cock against your snug walls feels like fire.

your eyes lock with oikawa’s, he looks pleased —much to your dismay— and you feel your heart drop when he catches you staring and smiles.

“enjoying yourself?”

a cry escapes from your lips when kuroo picks up his pace, the distinctive sound of his cock thrusting inside your pussy taking over the bedroom.

“fuck, shut up. you’re getting annoying,” kuroo groans but you’re way too preoccupied with the pain to register his words.

you keep sobbing your heart out, your desperate cries getting louder as he continues his assault on you.

his large hand suddenly covers your mouth, concealing your sounds and making your eyes widen.

“i told you to shut the fuck up, stupid whore!”

“can you control yourself and not kill her before i get a turn?” oikawa’s irritated tone reaches your ears, “you always do this.”

the tears refuse to stop, kuroo’s actions plus oikawa’s words wounding you both physically and emotionally.

“i’m close, fuck– so close,” kuroo’s grunts in your ear, the snap of his hips picking up its pace as he draws to his end. 

a few thrusts later and he’s finally reaching his high, emptying himself inside of you. his cock pulses as it pumps his cum inside your raw walls, moaning in relief at the way they wrap around him.

once he lets go of you, you curl up around yourself. your soft cries are the only audible thing in your bedroom, pain tugging at your heartstrings as the weight of what just happened falls on you. you’re so lost in your own suffering that you miss the quiet sound of clothes rustling.

it’s not until oikawa’s familiar scent reaches your nose that you look up —teary-eyed and with your eyelashes wet with tears— and observe as he crawls up his way on top of you.

“will you be good to your master?” he asks while wiping your tears away, pouting at you mockingly.

“please,” you don’t even know what you’re asking for, your mind too hazy and your body too weak to comprehend what's going on around you. 

but he goes in anyway.

his hard cock enters you easily, sliding in thanks to kuroo’s cum still coating your insides and bottoms out almost instantly.

“shit, it feels way better when you’re awake.” 

he starts a slow pace, basking in the feeling. his hands start kneading your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingers, and then running the pads of his thumbs over your nipples.

the sensation has you involuntarily gushing around his cock, wet sounds starting to echo around the room and prompting kuroo to lazily stroke his hardening cock again.

“naughty kitten, you want more don’t you?” a devious look takes over kuroo’s features, but he instantly dismisses your presence by turning to oikawa instead, “does she give good head?”

“why don’t you–hah, see for yourself,” oikawa struggles through his words, brows furrowing in pleasure as his hips collide against yours.

kuroo wastes no time, making his way next to your head while his hand keeps pumping at his now fully erect cock. the weight of it falls on your parted lips, running the leaking head over them and coating them with pre-cum.

you’re not given a warning, kuroo’s fingers get a tight hold on your jaw and force it open so he can slide in, the head poking at your inner cheek and making it bulge out in an obscene way.

“there you go, kitten. you are way better when you shut up,” he smirks down at you, thrusting up into your mouth, “all you needed was my fat cock.”

drool leaks out of your mouth but at this point, you don’t care anymore. you are drained, basically a corpse for them to fuck and fill with their semen.

you have a hard time trying to focus your vision on the demons before you, your head throbbing at the lack of energy. but it only gets worse when you feel a pair of hands fumbling around your throat.

“if only you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now,” oikawa praises you as his hands wrap a collar around your neck, almost moaning at the sight underneath him, “my good girl, do you like your master’s cock?”

the leather fabric tightens around your neck, the leash allowing oikawa to jerk your head up and making kuroo’s cock slide out of your mouth in the process.

“oi! don’t hog her!”

your groggy brain barely registers them arguing over who gets to control you.

“shut the fuck up. i found her first,” oikawa tries to get his point across by lifting your legs over his shoulders and pounding even harder, your whimpers turning louder at the new position. 

“but you’re fucking her cunt! at least give me control over her head!”

oikawa’s too busy thrusting his cock inside your plush walls that he eventually gives in. once the leash falls on kuroo’s hands, he wastes no time and pulls your face towards him, making you gag around his cock.

your muscles contract at the intrusion which only heightens the blissful feeling, transmitting waves of pleasure through his body.

“ah fuck, i can feel her trying to suck my cum out of me. such a cum-thirsty whore.”

what both demons miss, it's the way your face starts to turn purple. the tight grip of the collar plus kuroo’s tugging at the leash preventing the air from reaching your lungs.

with the last bits of energy you've left, you try to rip the collar off of you. your hands desperately claw at the material as your eyes widen in realization of what will come next if you’re unable to free yourself from their grip.

but your actions seem to anger kuroo, who growls and drops the leash only to grab you by your head and shove your face all the way down his length.

you start to choke, his thick girth taking so much space in your mouth and when you try to take a deep breath through your nose, he pushes in even more. coughs erupt from your chest, his pre-cum and your saliva reaching your lungs while dark spots start to cloud your vision. their voices sound far away, numbness taking over your body as you start growing dizzy and a violaceous hue tints the skin of your face at the lack of oxygen.

both demons pay no mind, too busy chasing their ends to notice how you’ve stopped fighting them. their moans echo freely all over the room, the lewd sounds of their cocks abusing your holes bringing a sense of hunger to them.

“shit, baby you feel so good. i’m gonna cum in your sweet, needy cunt and fill you with it m’kay?” oikawa announces, his orgasm rapidly approaching and inciting him to thrust harder, getting lost in the way your walls rub against his twitching cock.

kuroo lets out a low groan as he finally cums in your mouth, pulling out just enough to paint your face with it and smear it all over your lips. he sighs in relief, smiling at the sight of your pretty face covered in his sticky cum. the way it sticks to your eyelashes and drips down your face to your parted lips etching itself on his mind.

he can’t remember the last time he had such an erotic sight. 

but when he notices a lack of movement from you after a minute, he couldn't help but curse out loud. thankfully, it goes unnoticed by oikawa since his moans got louder, his own orgasm sending shivers down his body and causing him to lose focus on his surroundings for a while.

“ngh– fuck,” oikawa spills inside your pussy, his cock throbbing as load after load pumps out of him and fills you to the brim.

his eyes are closed, breaths ragged as he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm. it’s not until he opens them to admire your fucked out face when he finally finds out.

he’s confused for a moment before it dawns on him. he slaps your thigh gently, calling out your name in a futile attempt to get you to answer him back.

“sweetheart, this isn’t funny.”

but as he turns to face kuroo in search of an explanation, one look at him is enough to answer his question. 

“i swear i didn’t mean to!”

a nervous-looking kuroo, fully clothed by now, stands awkwardly by the door. he’s well aware he fucked up—big time.

“fucking hell!” oikawa rakes his fingers through his hair in exasperation, “did i not tell you to control yourself?!”

he can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness since he did grow a liking to you thanks to his nocturn visits. but the sentiment quickly fades away when his eyes fall on your form once again. a pleased smile appears on his handsome face as he takes in the sight of your legs spread wide open, his cum seeping out of your pussy.

“she remembered how much i like this,” he coos to himself, plunging one finger between your folds and smearing the fluids.

he’s so lost on you that he doesn’t notice kuroo disappearing from your room and leaving him behind—not like he cares. his hands reach out to smooth out your hair, traveling down the side of your face and stroking the skin of your cheeks with his long fingers. 

you look so peaceful, so pretty, covered in their fluids, and with the choker still adorning your neck.

the nostalgic feeling returns, tugging at his heart and prompting a gentle smile to take over his lips. with a kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips, oikawa finally bids his goodbyes.

“don’t worry, baby girl. i have a spot in hell saved just for you.”

[maraudersftw]

Claudia — this prompt!!!!!!! 💕✨

1. Two characters haven’t seen each other for a while, one keeps rambling about something insignificant and the other one kisses them because “Shut up you’re rambling just kiss me.”

Omg, M, so excited to receive this from you! 😂💜 And I had a blast writing it, so obviously it got long (1.5k words). Thanks for the prompt. Hope you enjoy!

Glittering Darkness

The Butterbeer is a slide of warm froth down his throat, easing up frozen insides brought on by the biting January cold. He smiles, grin stupid on face, hazel eyes bright behind glasses, and listens to Sirius yammer on about Quidditch and teams and players—

“The Canons don’t stand a fucking chance this season, mate,” Sirius repeats for the thousandth time that week, to the audience of Remus’s rolling eyes, Peter’s enraptured gaze and James’s dazed attention. “I have my bet on the Arrows. I mean, have you seen Crossby’s performance lately? Not missed a single bloody snitch so far in. That’s gotta be some kind of record, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it? Oi, Prongs!” he snaps, brows instantly furrowed at not receiving James’s immediate response, no matter that Peter’s vehement nodding probably dislodges the boy’s neck. “Someone throw a Confundus at you? That’s a dumb expression on your face, if I’ve seen one.”

James sighs, leans back, embraces the lovely chatter of his peers around The Three Broomsticks. “I’m just having a good day.”

The boys are instantly suspicious, each choosing to express such emotion with a varying degree of subtlety.

“How come?” Sirius asks, sounding almost put off at not being privy to the answer already.

“Well, I get to spend such a lovely afternoon with you lads. What more could I want?”

“To get laid,” says Sirius, a phrase that is followed immediately by Peter’s loud snort of laughter.

“By a very specific person,” Remus can’t help but add, amusement quirking his mouth in that typical way of his.

“Nonsense,” he waves off, another gulp of Butterbeer tossed back. “I’m perfectly content.”

“Okay, I take it back. It has to be a cheering charm,” Sirius ponders solemnly, just as a group of familiar Gryffindors enters The Three Broomsticks, huddling together as they brush off snow from thick robes and gloves.

Such a sight is by no means a rarity, given that the pub has already been crawling with Hogwarts students since the start of day. But James’s eyes are quick to lock onto a very specific person, a flash of red hair, pink cheeks, bright, bright laughter. No one around him seems to notice the tectonic plates shifting under their feet, nor the way that colour splashes, vibrant and sudden, painting the world afresh. No, they carry on with their conversations and snark as if air hasn’t suddenly become easier to draw in, as if her mere presence hasn’t literally lit up the room. He supposes, after a second of reflection, that she’s indeed his personal cheering charm.

Lily nods to the girls—Mary, Dorcas, Marlene—and points to a booth somewhere at the back. He can’t be arsed to check the exact location; not when it means taking his eyes off a much better alternative. But instead of moving away with them as they take their seats, Lily, curiously enough, breaks off from the group, face blank, easy grace and gait as she meanders off to the loo. Her eyes don’t travel to him, not once.

And yet, James spots that minuscule quirk of lips right before she disappears from view.

Oh.

Very well then.

He’s instantly on his feet, wooden chair scraping back with a loud groan, cutting off Remus mid-speculation as to the reason behind James’s jolly disposition. Three heads turn to him; curious, amused, perhaps even a little concerned.

“Um, you okay, mate?”

“Brilliant,” James replies, feels a thrum of excitement shiver through him, and wonders if it’s openly visible. “Perfectly brilliant. I just need to take a leak.”

“Well, alright, Mr Potter, you’re excused.” Remus laughs.

He takes the time to roll his eyes, but not the effort to dim his smile. It’s probable he looks like a complete loon on a sugar rush, but James truly has never cared about anything less. “Yeah, yeah, have your chuckles, Mr Moony. We’ll see who’s laughing by the end of the day.”

“I genuinely have no idea what you mean, and you sound completely unthreatening with that ridiculous beaming going on.”

James scoffs, walks away from another bout of laughter. “Fuck off.”

The hallway leading to the loos remains mercifully empty; luck that he doesn’t take for granted thanks to the crowd spilling inside the pub. With a quick manoeuvre honed over years of efficient marauding, he pulls out a shrunken invisibility cloak from his robes, enlarges it to its normal size, and disappears beneath the silvery material, feeling its strange softness like a second skin. And then he flattens himself against the wall, scooting around until he’s strategically placed within an alcove near the entrance to the girls’ lavatory—far away enough to give a wide berth to anyone he doesn’t want to alert, but near enough for an encounter with his target.

His target, who he presumes is not nearly as unsuspecting as she’d let on.

It takes only about ten seconds or so before he sees the swish of her robes, witnesses the easy smile on her face as Lily rounds the corner, nose teased red from cold, freckles scattered like stars, and finds the walls of his chest tighten like concrete slabs at the sight.

In a flash of movement, he’s got a hand wrapped around her wrist, sliding to her waist, yanking her firmly against his body without so much as a whispered greeting. Lily’s impulsive screech of surprise dies down the instant the cloak falls over her head, enveloping them both. The tension of her muscles melts away beneath his fingertips, and she’s quick to plant her hands on his chest, brush indelicately closer, space shrinking enough that he tastes the mint on her breath when she speaks.

“Rather indecent of you to accost me like this, Potter.”

He bends down, appreciates the excited gleam in the green of her eyes. His thumb finds her nape, massages gently. “I had something very important to discuss with you.”

“Mm,” Lily purrs. “That’s better. How may I help you?”

“You see,” he starts, chokes slightly when she grinds against him purposefully. “You see, I was just leaving the castle this morning, ready for a lovely outing with my mates, when a witch who looked remarkably like you all but shoved me into a broom closet, declared her undying love for me, and then snogged me into oblivion. And well, you’ve got to understand what that sort of thing does to a bloke’s mental state.”

“Huh,” she remarks, lets her upper lip slide over his bottom one, nothing but a ghost of touch. “I don’t know much about undying love proclamations, but do go on about this snogging into oblivion business, please.”

James drops his head, sucks on the pulse that jumps beneath the skin of her neck. “Oblivion. Abyss. A whole lot of glittering darkness,” he confesses. “And since this witch resembled you—”

“Remarkably,” she moans, soft.

“Remarkably, of course—I thought it only proper to inform you of such an occurrence, y’know, for reputation’s sake. You’ve got that Head Girl image to maintain. Can’t have imposters of you running around making out with the Head Boy. Doesn’t look too good, to be honest. And I’m saying this purely out of selflessness, of course. If, on the other hand, you were to shed some light on this act and admit to...I don’t know...a lack of an imposter, it would mean a whole other thing—”

Lily slams him back against the wall, hand shoving his chest, mouth dangerously close to his. “Shut up, you’re rambling.” She smirks. “Just kiss me.”

And almost as if unable to sustain any patience to allow him to follow the directive, her lips crush over his in a kiss that somehow burns through his every molecule, scorching the very skin he wears, rivalling even the best kiss he’s ever had in his life, which was, incidentally, shared with the same person naught but two hours ago. Lily’s hand curls over his collar, twisting the fabric, giving her purchase to devour him alive. He reciprocates with a tightening grip on her waist, tilting her jaw, slipping his tongue inside to brush over the warm wetness of hers. A mad rush of breath, of gliding mouths and hands and softly uttered moans passes between them, the air under the cloak sweltering despite the cold outside.

Eventually, James wrenches himself away long enough to get the word out; her name. “Lily.”

“Mm,” she manages, lips on his cheek.

“I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”

The breathless sincerity of his tone gives her pause, and she pulls back, eyes dark and confused. “What?”

“Do you,” he swallows past the cowardice, the thump of his heart. “Is this happening for real? You actually want...me?”

A beat passes, a long one, and Lily stares and stares and stares. Eventually, a smile spills, and he’s reminded of that abyss; glittering endlessly. “Yeah, James. I want you. Wholly. Fully.” She kisses him again, trails the honey on his lips. “I’m just letting you enjoy this outing with the boys, because once we’re back at the castle…”

She’s trailed off, left him to articulate thoughts. “What then?”

Lily grins, glint of teeth so cruelly delicious that it steals his breath, especially when accompanied by the roll of her hips. “I’ll let you fill in the blank.”

[missgeniality]

A Work Of Art (m)

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.” - Marc Chagall

➺ Banner: The lovely @dee-ehn 💕

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

➺ Genre: PWP, Smut, Slightest Angst

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 7.3k

➺ Summary: You surprise Jimin with his Filter outfit; and then some.

➺ Warnings: tongues get tired in this fic, dom!jimin, we talk about spit, some biting, jimin loves praise, lingerie n stuff, nipple play, oral sex (m&f receiving), we talk more about spit, some bondage is involved, degrading names, blindfolds, spanking (maybe too much, don’t look @ me), light choking, light face-fucking, cum eating, we talk even more about spit, hickeys galore, some edging?, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids, not even for Jimin)

➺ Author’s Note: (repost bc tags, you know how it is) huge s/o to @ilikemesometaetaes for making time to beta read this monstrosity 💜 thank youuuu! Also thanks to @honeiibeehobi, @kithtaehyung for helping me with the many many details & @ppersonna​for hyping up this idea or else it would have never seen the light of day ;_; lol i will come back to edit this cuz this didnt let me focus on my paper due tonight so if you see a spelling mistake or tense error umm no you didnt 👀

do let me know your thoughts!! the smallest feedback goes a long way! 💛💛

This is the first part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

Y/N: soooooo, I did a thing. JM: is the dishwasher flooding our kitchen again? Y/N: -_- i’ll give you two more guesses. JM: oh no. you picked up a dog from the street again.  Y/N: come onn!! JM: y/n, last time you picked one up, HE HAD AN OWNER Y/N: you’re down to your last try, or else i’m taking this off. JM: … JM: so its something you have on? 😏 Y/N: pic_210124.jpg JM: holy shit JM: wait wait fuck JM: keep the door unlocked.

“You like?”

The bob in his Adam’s apple wordlessly conveys the answer you’re looking for.

A crisp, white, button down shirt, tucked into black trousers, topped off with a panama hat that matches your top half is the view Jimin comes home to. Your dress pays homage to Jimin’s Filter outfit - actually, the exact one - the one that showcased his immaculate dance moves, the one that exposes his delicious collarbones, the one that brings the irresistible urge to bite your way up his neck - the one he eventually rids. 

If you had to pick a color, he is a flustered orange, bright and blushing, turned on by the indecent implication of your very decent outfit.

You’re on the counter, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the swell of your ass. Landing on the pads of your feet, you take a few steps towards the man with the unhinged jaw.

“Babe.” a mellow croak - Jimin can’t get a whole sentence out without saliva pooling and obstructing his speech. “You, in my clothes… fuck.” 

Chuckling at his very obvious loss of words, you give him a twirl, allowing him to fully soak in your outfit.

“Was waiting for you.”

Three long strides and you were in his arms, a pair of lips desperate to invade your space and claim you. An Angel on your shoulder tells you to give in; after all, this is the end result - what you both want. 

However, the Devil on the other side, no no no. It wants you to make him suffer. To get revenge for all the times you were taken control of. It remembers all the days he turned you on with shoot photographs and all the nights he brought you to the brink only to stop you from tipping over with a cocky smirk and a cheeky wink. 

The Devil was created from the moments when you thought you would actually erupt, begging for release, only to be shoved aside with a single growl of ‘don’t you fucking dare.’ 

Your desire to please him effectively silenced the Devil and kept it at bay. But no more. All those times built up and gave your Devil the power to force its way against your will to restrain it, causing it to rise to the surface.

You will have the upper hand. 

So you push him away, keeping him at an arm’s length for your safety to have him on his toes. Forlorn eyes meet your steely ones, and you physically stop yourself from giving in to his puppy gaze - those eyes can turn icy and sultry when nailing you into the bed like his rent depended on it. 

“Sit there. I have a-” You turn to switch on some music, “-small present for you.”

“If the small present isn’t me folding you in half and fucking you till sunrise,” He sits with visible reluctance, irises slowly transforming into magma orbs, “I don’t want it.”

“Well, we’ll see… Depends on how you behave.”

On a normal day, this comment would have lit your ass on fire, pronto.

Today isn’t a normal day at all. 

You stride on, every noiseless step you take leaving a wreckage of nerves behind, ignoring the smoldering gaze he has locked on you- you are unsure whether he is deciding your punishment or simply admiring how his clothes fit on your body.

You stand on the side, drinking him in. 

From your viewpoint, this is ridiculous. Those cursed jeans, vacuumed onto his thighs, ensure your eyes don’t miss a single ridge. His legs are spread out, beckoning you to have a seat, and the Angel once again begs for some reprieve. He knows what he’s doing; knows you inside and out- knows you couldn’t miss a chance to ride him like this. The wicked smirk flashing back at you is confirmation. 

But you stymy that thought at its root. Walking behind, you wrap your arms around him to faintly buss his cheek. 

“Sooo I was watching Filter…” 

Jimin hums against your feeble touch. He wants more. The soft wind of your breath routing through his jeweled ear sends a wave of goosebumps down his spine. From behind, you run your hands over his sinewy biceps, taut in restraint - holding themselves back against the suffering you are putting him through. 

“You do know how fucking hot you looked, right?” You playfully let your tongue toy with the hanging ornament, the briefest of flicks causing Jimin’s shoulders to push back, trying to connect with your bosom.

With a crooked finger under his jaw, you bring him to meet your eyes- eyes that are adorned with layered shadows of deep maroons, a variety of colors blending into your skin tone, eyelashes piqued up and ready to reach the clouds.

“So pretty…” He whispers out as you place your hat on its rightful throne - Jimin’s head.

A lone digit traces the lines of art you etched for him, appreciating every single stroke you put in to make a memorable time. Warm merigold rays bloom in your chest in response to his gaze, with him looking at you like you invented the sky. Pupils are dilated, and the only reason you can see each other is because of the practically nonexistent distance between you.

His eyes pick up on your tapering resolve to keep him in line. A light quiver of need passing your lips as you hopelessly vie for dominance is what most likely gives you away. 

Grabbing you by the neck, he pulls you into a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into you with reckless abandon like he was a nomad all this while and your mouth has finally claimed him home. Your neck strains at the awkward angle and surely even his is hurting, but the pressure of his hand is unrelenting.

His tongue searches and searches, desperately looking for a part in you he has not yet explored. You’d think the years of togetherness would have diminished this fiery attraction but no, he comes onto you like he has a mission to prove - to validate his love for you, to plead you to be his. You would happily accept this shower of affection, returning it with due interest.

With great difficulty you part, a string of spit still connecting your lips because he has not let you move far enough. “Uh-uh. Be good.” You pout a little, breaking character.

“You’re here. In my clothes. A walking dream. How the fuck am I to be good?” He pulls you back in to continue what you cut short but you break the line of spit and his intention with a hand wedged between your faces. 

“I asked you a question, Mister.” Back on your cocky nature, you graze your lips against oh-so-lightly, barely giving him anything to feel, but the tingling on his skin shows he can feel it all.

The adoration moves into a competition, “You tell me, sweetness - how did I look?”

It’s always the praise. He loves it when you struggle to tell him his dick was crafted by the heavens when you’re choking on it, but he still makes you do it. You stutter and stumble your words when his lips smack against your cunt, devouvering and digging for the treasure of your cum, but he forces you to tell him. When you sit on his dick, your brain has no sense of diction or direction, only chasing the high at his mercy, but he makes you scream it out loud, letting everyone beyond the pearly gates know, between moans and wails, that only he can break you down this way. 

“This shirt, sweetie.” Your nose trails the path between his collar and the ends of his hair, basking in the sweet vanilla scent, “You’re all covered. Why, pray tell,” You dig your teeth into the point where his shoulder meets his neck, “does this sole patch of skin turn me on so bad?”

He sucks in an inhale through his clenched teeth, his stunning visage devoid of any virtue. His head is thrown back, hat toppling over in the movement and giving you a larger canvas to mark, an opportunity you happily grasp. The mellifluous tones he is producing is recorded in your mind for lonelier nights to come. 

“And the red suit? Fuck, your corseted waist?” At the corner of your eye you see his fingers clenching into a fist, your lush voice making it harder and harder for him to breathe. 

You slowly stride forward, painfully slow, letting him notice every single muscle of your body curving to his unspoken command, undoing one button at a time until your torso is revealed- and shows the true purpose of your scarlet eye makeup. 

A deep burgundy camisole, ribbed at the waist to accentuate the way your hips flow has Jimin salivating to no end. The strappy number, with carmine ribbons flowing into your yet to be removed bottom half- a deed Jimin intends on rectifying very, very soon- calls to him sinfully. The lingerie twists and ties in incomprehensible ways, but the amount of cleavage it gives you is ungodly. 

If they weren’t already, Jimin’s eyes are now wide open.

Time comes to a standstill as he checks out your whole figure, taking in every embroidered pattern on the lingerie and every embellishment on your breasts. Before, you were already a five-star meal, but now? An emperor’s feast. 

The little flower right on top of your nipple has Jimin’s attention. His thumb comes up to trace the bedecked rose, following the stitched line of stem that takes him to the peak, then drawing over petal by petal. Each time he reaches close to your hardened nub, he abstains from crossing over it, making your nipple hardens imperceptibly under the presentiment of any relief and the disappointment when nothing arrives. His other hand, sitting on your waist, coaxes you to straddle him while he plays gardner on your bust.

“Jimin…” Your nipple, finally finding solace under his thumb, is not faring too well under the attention. Your plan of teasing him is slipping through your fingers like sand.

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” His finger is now tracing the seams of your lingerie cups, admiring the way they frame your ample bosom. Things are progressing too slow for your liking, and you come clean with your ignoble intentions. 

“Please, I just want to suck you off.”

A wad of spit lands directly into your cleavage, followed by two thick fingers penetrating the lubed entrance. 

“Nope.” His fingers continue to shallowly fuck your cleavage. Neither of you are being touched in the erogenous zone, but why does it feel so good? Your valley is inundated with his dribble, coating your ensemble and shifting shades to a deep cerise. Every pump of his nimble fingers between your breasts is like a promise of what your pussy is going to go through. Will he fuck you hard and fast with your voice echoing across the room, making every neighbor privy of your sexual escapedes? Will he be slow and gentle, penetrate you with utmost care, soft gasps and whines only sounded to the two of you? You can never guess.

In the aphrodisiac moment, you forgot that you were supposed to take charge. 

“Please, please, please! I did so much,” You take the guilt route. If Jimin was anything, he was a just and fair man. “Can’t I get that much?”

Jimin’s gaze has not left your wet cleavage. A flit of his eye makes contact with yours and goes back to the fucking - that is enough language for you to understand his needs. You bend low, and spit out a fat glob onto your chest to add to the mess he has already made. The groan that leaves him is ungodly, and he licks the spit you unloaded onto yourself, spreading it all over your expensive wear. He slurps like you released sweetened water to a parched traveller, your bosom holding all the sweetness to itself.

Gathering your thoughts is more difficult than you could ever imagine. The cloth over your nipples is completely soaked, bitten into and sticking to your skin thanks to the vacuum Jimin pulled on them. Your back has had a workout, every vertebrae bent to its maximum possibility. Chiropractors are so last year, you just have your boyfriend ravish your breasts.

“Once I’m done, you can do whatever you want.”

All of your five brain cells had to be put in action to form that sentence. The moment the words left your lips, the pressure your breasts were on had been released, but you could still feel lips against you, stretching into a snarky smirk.

“Whatever?” His grip on your waist tightens, seating you more firmly onto his taut thighs. 

Whatever. That stupidly amazing word. 

“Saying ‘whatever’ always lands you in trouble. Have you forgotten?” His damp lips are tracing your collarbones, nibbles whenever he felt appropriate. How does he expect you to form a damned sentence like this, the Devil on your shoulder indignantly asks. The Angel on the other has gone back in time to fetch memories filed under the term ‘whatever’, strictly saved for your quality alone-time. 

The first time you told him to do ‘whatever he wants’ was fairly early into your relationship. Sex was as vanilla as the ice cream tastebud-less people liked, and none of you ever pushed it too far. A happy, drunken night with a loose-lipped confession from him. 

“God, the things I want to do to you…” he had muffled into your hair, maybe not even intended for your ears to pick up. 

A cheeky giggle had bubbled out of your tipsy self. “Like what, tie me up?”

If Jimin then were a color, he was a pantone pink. Blushed cheeks from the alcohol and the realization that you had caught him, airbrushed with a depth you weren’t able to put in place that early in the relationship. Wide-eyed horror was shown in its place, possibly exaggerated to add to the denial he had landed himself in. 

“No no, of course, I don’t mean it like that, what ar-”

“Why not?”

The animal that awoke after confirming with you fifteen times was a force to be reckoned with. Your bra had turned into rope, wrists bound behind as he roughly squished your helpless cheeks. 

“You will tell me when to stop, right?” His tongue peeked lightly, brushing your top lip, taking the perspiration away.

“Uhmf-yufh!” 

“God, you’re gonna regret this baby.” 

But it was exactly the opposite. You got the railing of a lifetime, heard the filthiest words that could leave the lips of such a courteous man - a side you had not expected at all. You couldn’t possibly recollect every single move he made, but what you can recollect with excruciating detail is every feeling you felt that night. It was filled with lust, with revelations of the new ways your body could bend, a night of puppetry where Jimin played you like the master your body craved. The following day was Jimin taking care of you, big puppy eyes wondering whether he took it too far. In his daze of letting go of control, he couldn’t take in your lidded stare, heaving with satisfaction - so you made sure he could witness them when he took you the next time that morning.

The other time the wretched word was mentioned was during an argument. You’re not jealous of Jimin on stage - it’s his career and you were one of the girls offering one of their kidneys to be able to catch a glimpse of him. 

But your workspace? That’s where you draw the line. 

She was a random worker. Some third-floor low-lying soul. You were eighth-floor premium material (the floors didn’t decide shit, but no one can tell you what skyscraper semantics you can craft in your brain). A lifeless party that even Jimin’s colorful locks couldn’t color up. 

This random worker was very enamored by Jimin (as she should, the man is a whole nine-course meal). Supportive fans are not what get you jealous either. 

But the limit is when placed her scrawny fingers on Jimin’s hand, drawing the glass in his grip to her lips and took a sip from it. If her lashes were fanned they could blow a man away (which is probably more than what her puny mouth could possibly do). The fume exiting your ears could have been in bright red for all you care, because every office member had been rightfully annoyed. 

The whole car ride back was filled with your drunken blabbers about the different ways you could skin her. The actual victim beside you was not making a nearly big enough deal out of it, intending to let you get rid of your temper.

“She fucking knew!” Your normally clean disposition had taken its leave after the fuming temper took real estate in your brain, and you aimlessly threw your heel at some corner of the house - hungover self shall have to deal with this angry mess you’ve made. Wait, you’re an angry mess too.. “The gall she had, I should jus-”

You march towards the door, in hopes of what, you don’t know. But if you didn’t take action you’ll probably explode. Any action, just anything. You never find out though, because a strong arm slithered around your waist and halted your expedition. 

“Calm down, feisty. Where are you going now?” His soothing voice, punctuated with a mocking chuckle almost quelled the fire in you. Almost. 

But you’re not done being an idiot. 

“To go find her for you. You’d fuck the living daylights out of her, right?”

The loudest silence you have ever encountered. Jimin’s grip on your waist tightened to the point where it could have hurt. Like he was trying to push every iota of that thought out of your body. From behind, you can hear a deep breath dragging, and somewhere in your irate head you knew you had struck a nerve, a bad one. Jimin is forced to expel any anger bubbling in him, trying to use reason with an unreasonable recipient. 

“Princess, you don’t actually think I’d do that right?”

“I don’t know!” Your misplaced anger had reached the rooftops. Jimin had done nothing wrong here except try to calm an increasingly livid girlfriend. “Maybe you’d love that. Her itty-bitty waist, that whore’s outfit she had on. You call me a whore right? Maybe she’s more worthy of you!” 

“Y/N.”

The timbre of his voice had completely changed. The breathy, airy aura had completely departed from your name he had just called. The lack of nicknames raised some hair at the nape of your neck, but you’re a stubborn one. 

“Ugh, I don’t care.”

You tried to walk back to your room, head still reeling in a palace of inferno, burning everything that dares to intrude your path - but somehow, you had been pushed to a wall, and the eyes of the man you loved had turned feral. 

If Jimin was a color, he was green - igniting with fury, anger repressed in dark shadows that never made the light of the day until pushed - but you pushed all right. And now released from its shackles, it has surrounded you and slammed you against the wall - and you have nowhere to go. 

“You’re my whore. Is that a complaint from my stupid, stupid whore?”

The only joint you’re free to move is your neck, and your gratuitous self decided to rebel with whatever degree of freedom you have. Turning your face away to not meet his seething eyes, you continue your rebel-without-a-cause tantrum.

“Whatever.” you carped out.

Again, with that stupid word, you had signed your fate for the night. 

Usually, you can express your feelings. Be it pain or pleasure (sometimes the two packed in one), you could wail it out to the heavens and respite would follow. 

Usually, you can see the torments laid out on you. Jimin’s lithe body performing every obscene spell he invoked is a treat for your eyes. He treats your body like an artisan, using any medium to paint his art on you.

But that day, you were stripped of them both, and made to realize what a privilege they were.

Mouth stuffed with your bunched up panties, eyes blinded by his tie of the evening, you could only rely on the sensors on your skin to somehow predict what was going to be done to you. And you failed. Every single time. Every thwack fell on a new area. Every teasing touch tickled you at a new place. Nothing could begin to prepare you for his next move and you couldn’t keep up with his tameless pace.

He made you beg through the makeshift gag, beg to let you come, then beg to stop coming, beg for every orifice of yours to be filled by his seed and then beg to get cleaned by him. With the first rays of morning sunlight, language was an illusion, time was an out-of-reach concept, and all you knew was the worshipping of last night.

Whatever is a word. Whatever is mean. Whatever is filthy. Whatever is nailing you into the bed and rendering you immobile for the entire day. Whatever may just be a word to anyone, but to you it is what has you losing sense of reality, giving in to a phantasm of your wildest dreams. 

A wet tap on your cheek brings you back from you imagining the past - the fingers that were fucking your cleavage are squishing your cheeks, bringing your attention back from all your dirty memories to the present - to create another memory to add to your folder. 

If Jimin is a color, he is the darkest of all blacks. This is where everything pious comes to meet its sordid end. His sultry gaze is reading your eyes, searching for where you got lost, which shared memories of passed time made you melt into the puddle that you are right now. 

“I said, don’t you remember? ‘Whatever’?”

Let’s see. You don’t have work tomorrow. You don’t have any commitments. You don’t have to meet anyone. 

So there is no reason for you to be able to move. 

“Hmmmmn, I don’t seem to recall - you could remind me.”

Dark, dark chuckles from such a cherubic face. You flounder off his lap to shuck your (his) pants away, revealing the matching maroon garter belt set. The whole outfit is an ode to Jimin’s mid performance transformation, the one that made many people’s hearts skip a quick beat. His slim, cinched waist, the flared pants flowing down his frame were one for the books, and you’d like to think your rendition has its place too. 

Giving him a quick spin, you attempt to get down to business - but Jimin pulls you back on his lap. Without the pants, you can feel it - his hard, thick cock straining against the tough jean fabric and still making its presence known. 

“Tell me more, baby. What did you like?”

The man was a sucker for your praise. 

You were a sucker for the whole man. 

But the sucking will probably have to wait. 

“I loved your expressions. You’re so sexy on stage, fuck. Going around and giving bedroom eyes to the world.” 

His hand gripping you ass gives it a quick pinch, but voice just let out a lazy hum to get you to continue.

“The choreography,”, your whisper is strained, “you dance like you fuck baby. So sensual, so sexy.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, from his artistic collarbones to the back of his ear, the sensitive spot that makes him hiss is arousal. You stay there, wanting to whisper the next few lines. The world didn’t need to know your thirst for this. 

“You know my favorite part?” 

“Oh, tell me.” His voice is hitting lower and lower in pitch, much like it’s hitting you lower and lower in your body. 

You place the hand framing his face on his neck - the same one you want to cover in blooms of purple and red, lightly squeezing, letting him preen under the pressure. The tightness has Jimin’s head falling back on the headrest, and you can feel his pulse hastening to accommodate for the lacking oxygen in his stream. 

Letting go of his throat, and pleased to see the lightest indentation on his beautiful pale skin, you snake your hands downward. 

“Na, na, na,” Inching slowly towards your end goal, you whisper the tune into his ear, “na na na, na, na na”, covering every part with an indulgent languish, “pick your filter”.

Your hand finally reaches its destination - you grab his bulge and squeeze the hardness, making Jimin buck his hips against your palm. 

“Namaneul damabwa.”

It’s a low whisper from his lips, but even in the gravelly sound you can hear how melodious he is, how the song rolls off of his tongue and was made for his vocal color. The whisper is laced with lust, with want, with desire, all the feelings you portrayed for him in his performance.

That, and in life in general. 

You shuffle and sit to the side, simultaneously unbuttoning his jeans to get him some relief for the ache he had going on. Finally, you acquiesce and free his dick from its cages.

Every time you see him is a wonder to you. Hard, ridged, the right amount of veins to stimulate the walls of your cunt. Head leaking from the eons of teasing you’ve been doing, right from the text you sent to seconds ago. You bend down to clean him up, tasting the saltiness of his seed that has coated the head. Jimin’s lips are facing the brunt of your deeds - his teeth have found near permanent residence in its plushness, digging deep to keep from moaning too early, from giving you the pleasure. He is going to make you work. 

Well, you must get to work. 

Slowly, slowly, you dip your head in further, sucking lightly with each move, tongue tracing every vein on his dick. As you move your head back up, Jimin’s hand pushes into your back, making it arch further, and then you go down on his dick. His finger lightly follows the curve of your back, from your upper back all the way to the band of your lace panties. 

Hooking a finger underneath the lace fabric of your panty that had disappeared in between your mounds of flesh, he pulls at it - hard.  Your throat revolts against the intrusion as you gag, and the fabric presses into your clit. The concentrated abrasion turns into pleasure - he uses it to arch your back further, and bring your ass closer so that he can-

Smack! 

The spank sends you forward and you choke on his dick further, throat giving in to his hardness. 

“So good for me baby. Look at that ass.” He grabs one cheek, bubbled with the way your panties are now, squeezing and testing the firmness of your glutes. 

Your plans of torturing him are shot; the Devil on your shoulder is strangely mute. Awakening the brat, you slip a hand under and toy with his balls, pulling back to provide your throat some recess. Your saliva mixed with his precum is an gushing mess, glistening on his balls and now coating your palms as you play with light squeezes - the existing stiffness caused by your teasing arousal mixed with your playful fingers make Jimin buck into your mouth, releasing a delicious groan in the process.

A second spank is a warning, either you increase your pace or reap some serious consequences. You consider the consequences; they are very compelling. You could end with delicious marks of ownership from this delicious man. But he deserves the best suck of his life, and you’re going to do just that.

Hollowing your mouth, you go further down, till his head is poking an uninvaded point in your throat, and Jimin lets out a surprising note. A groan, no, a roar, but a tinge of whine mixed in it, like the pleasure is too much for him. 

You continue to swallow around, hand pumping the length you couldn’t take in, interlarded with swipes on his tight balls, leaving Jimin to be a heaving mess. Your ass is not faring better, bearing the brunt of his replies. You’re positive his fingerprints are imprinted on your asscheek, and one sit on his phone can unlock it. The line of your panties is drenched with your sopping wetness and lodged between the lips. 

“God, I’m so close baby, just a little more.” 

You would fervently nod in acceptance to whatever demand he places; in this position, he could ask you for the world and you would have it at his disposal. But what stops you are his ringed fingers lodged in your hair, pushing you in further, determined to spill deep in your throat, to the point where you don’t even have to swallow to get everything down. 

“Fuck, such a good girl for me.” Jimin appraises how deep he is going, how your throat is accommodating him and quivering around his length. Bunching your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, he stops them from obstructing his vision - the view of you struggling to take him in, toiling to keep the need to breathe at bay while you tend to his needs, worshipping his dick like its the last meal you’ll ever get - your desperate adulation takes him over the brink.

Jimin erupts into your mouth; an ungodly amount at that. It is the hardest he’s come in a while, and given your lifestyle, that’s saying something. Even a cum-hungry whore like you can’t possibly swallow that much in one go, and you are forced to let the globs dribble down his now-softening member. The two of you are heaving, catching a breath - completely different circumstances but the same result. 

The way you’re looking at him right now; his dick is already twitching to go for a second lap. Dilated pupils staring back, like you were at the receiving end of the orgasm - you are staring at him like he hung every star in the sky. Strings of cum are leaking out of the corners of your lips, ones he really wants to lap up with his tongue. Instead, you daintily dab it away - as innocent as pecking stray drops of ice cream off your mouth. 

You look at him with teasing eyes. “Want a taste baby?”

Running your tongue along the mess you (or he) made, you gather the remnant cum that didn’t go into you, and instead flooded his groin. Straddling back onto his lap, you go in for a kiss but stop halfway.

Jimin is looking, waiting with lust hungry eyes. Slightly pained by the pause, he whines. 

“What?”

“Open your mouth.”

From a height, you let his cum and your spit drop into his mouth, a groan of satisfaction emanating as Jimin’s tongue accepts it with great delight. He tastes his juices, they somehow feel sweeter coming from your mouth. He pushes the glob you dropped on his tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting every taste bud bathe in relish. When he’s sucked all flavor out of the globule he swallows it. On opening his eyes and landing back from heaven to earth, he sees you admiring his adam’s apple, the way it bobbed when he swallowed your offering. 

Jimin’s eyes trace your current state; you look beautiful. The strappy red lingerie wet from Jimin’s treatment perfectly showcases your peaked nipples, ready for another round of torture. His shirt, through all this has managed to stay hanging on your shoulders. The curves of your sinful waist accentuated by the ribbons of the wear, like roads down a windy path, every ribbon vanishing into their destination, between your curvaceous thighs. 

Slipping his fingers under the band, he decides he has not played with the lingerie enough, tugging it up once again - a sharp inhale and you’re moving along with it, upward to balance between the point of pain and pleasure. Jimin makes sure you don’t tip in favor of one. Grabbing you by the neck, Jimin harshly pulls you down into a deep kiss.

He’s done waiting, done watching you take the reins. His tongue tells you that you now can only react to his doings. Deepening the kiss, you let your mind walk places. Back to his performance, his stage presence, the aura he exudes when he is in his element. His sinful body melding to the flow of the beat, like the music was made to his movement - his piercing gaze that could leave an insentient camera with blushed cheeks - but a sharp bite pulls you right back to the present to remind you that this is also Jimin in his complete element. Pillowy lips, incandescent with every brush, sucked and nipped with fervor. But it still didn’t satisfy. It wasn’t nearly enough. Starved, you wanted to scream at every imperceptible air pocket between the two of you - as if you knew in your soul they were guilty of keeping you away. 

Jimin pulls away, and his words shut you down before the whine leaves you. 

“About that ‘whatever’…” his sinister eyes are a window to his brain churning something unimaginable to close the night - sinister in uppercase. Make it bold. Underline that shit. That’s him. 

In the bat of an eye, you are face down on the sofa - Jimin’s rock hard thighs are straddling you, making sure you can handle his weight. In all the coarseness, he takes care of the smallest of things. An untimely smile creeps up on your face at the thought, the tender show of affection amidst the rough push and pull affecting your immersion, but you can’t say you don’t like it.

Feeling a rough jerk on your shoulder, you try to look back, just in time to receive Jimin’s ravenous gaze; he looks at you like he will eat you alive, and by the end of the night you plan on having just that. Pulling back your now-unbuttoned shirt and bunching its ends, he anchors you to the position of his choice by tying your hands behind.

Smelling a line up your neck all the way up to your hair, he briefly pauses to ask “Okay?”

Your tiny nod is enough for Jimin to carry on with whatever godless plan he has chalked out for you. 

“I hope you had your fun. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Light banter could cause no trouble. Atleast, not more than you already have. “When have you ever?”

Flashbacks of the blossoming days of your relationship flicker in Jimin’s mind, their fugacious presence a telling sign of how long it has been. Looking downward, he can only thank his alcohol-induced blabbering of that night as that is the reason he can enjoy the view he has right now. 

“Maybe I should take it easy?” His tongue flits across your neck, too soft for your liking, torturous like his liking.

His fingers are playing with the straps and your now exposed upper back. It’s always been a favorite place of his. The whole expanse looks resplendent when he is done tasting you. Maroon and purple florets on your beautiful, glowing skin. And then you purposely wear dresses to show it all off, to show who your heart belongs to. He loves that about you. 

You gyrate lightly, snapping him out of his daze, begging him to take you hard and fast. “Jimin, please.” a low drawl leaves you as you try to not slobber all over the cushion. 

Jimin shifts lower to straddle your thighs. Snaking his hand between your legs, he finds your clit and plays with it, every press releasing a different sound from different depths of your throat. A particularly low grunt appears when he slips two fingers into your channel with smooth ease, and pushes you up from the inside. 

“Ass up for me.”

His fingers stay lodged inside as you raise your hips to obey him, pulling you up further and further till he is satisfied with your position. God, your pussy looks wrecked. With every pump of his fingers you gush our more liquid, and Jimin gathers the escaping drops on this tongue. 

“So perfect for me, this hole.” You can feel the cold metal of his rings drawing circles inside you as he prepares you to take his cock. His tongue, drawing completely different characters is too slow for your liking - he seems to be more satisfied in drinking your cum dripping from his fingers instead of paying attention to your throbbing clit. Seconds go by, several hinting moans of dissatisfaction go by, but the Devil on your shoulder seems to have returned and is asking for more. A hip raise, that’s all. His tongue will be right where you want. 

What you got instead was a sharp bite on your already battered ass - Devil, hey, where did you go? “Behave.” He grunts against your pussy, and a fresh wave of arousal escapes you with a third finger making its way in. “Don’t like it? Too,” Smack! “Fucking.” Smack! “Bad.”

The last spank hit you hard, leaving your cunt soaked to the core. He is trying to get a rise out of you, and you are falling for it. Your smarting skin is at its breaking point, but let’s not pretend like you don’t want this either. 

“Baby please, I’m so close.” You’re close to tears with how long you’ve been this turned on. Maybe Jimin will have a change of heart seeing you like this.

“Don’t.”

Well maybe not.

He’s using your hole like playdough - for his fancy, with no end goal in sight. He doesn’t seem to want you to come anytime soon and it is bothering you to no end. The tightening coil in your belly is almost painful at this point - but he doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon. 

“You taste so sweet baby, almost don’t want to let you come, so you keep dripping like this.” 

His fingers curl into you to hit that spot, and God, you’re seeing stars right now. Curling up your fists into a ball and trying to keep the threatening tsunami at bay, you jerk into his mouth and continue to sway to the tune his fingers play inside you. If desperation had a poster girl, they could take your photo right now.

“If you let me come I -ohhh- I will- I will give you more.” Your words are broken, every push into your cunt halting your flow of speech. 

A split second later you are empty. He’s pulled away from you, and you think the finger-fucking torture you were going through was almost better than this. Your walls flutter in empty anguish. 

“Better keep your promise then.” Finally, you hear Jimin shuffling behind, but your muscles feel too alive and too dead at the same time. At crossroads, you are unable to get yourself to move, to twist or turn and witness the glory of him, the scrunch of his features, the grit of his pronounced jaw, his lips heaving a sigh as he pushes his girthy self into your leaking hole. 

Jimin’s forehead is lined with sweat, jaws hurting from the tight clench he had trying to not nut into you too soon. Now they revolt in pain, ready to pass on their trouble to his dick and release into you the moment he fits himself in. But he held off; he had plans for you - long plans. 

As he slowly pulls himself out, you can’t help but mewl at the pleasure your walls are feeling, with every ridge of his cock pressing all the right spots inside you, the snug fit when he’s pulled out all the way only leaving the head inside you. Then, you can’t help but yell, expressing a mixture of anguish and pleasure when his hips snap to push into you in one swoop, hitting deep inside you. With your ass high up in the air, his balls smack your engorged bud, sending shockwaves throughout your body and clenching the hold you have on his dick.

“Fuck baby, you feel fucking tight. You’re so close?” Jimin’s voice is strained as well; the lack of mocking in his tone tells you he is close as well. 

“Ki-Kiss me, please.” The voice that leaves you is so foreign, so unknown. The fucked out woman speaking in your stance has no spatial or temporal comprehension. You don’t even realize how you are put on your back, now a lucky witness to Jimin’s nimble figure pushing back into you as he leaned over to slot his lips on yours. 

The kiss was explicit, it was rough, it would put to any kiss you’ve shared before to shame. Deep in throes of pleasure, his mouth is chasing yours. Your hands are still bound; a light fight against the restrain tells you you don’t have a chance. Instead, you suck his plush lip in, swiping your tongue across his cherry petals that are rushing with blood because of you. Dormant volcanoes across the world could erupt with the blaze of your merging lips, it is scorching hot. 

If Jimin is a color, he is a rich wine - deep and passionate. He puts his one hundred percent into whatever he does, be it skilled singing, adept dancing or simply fervent kissing. He gives it his all.

Jimin’s skillful hips move in every way he wishes - and your pussy is thankful for that. Rolling in deep, he tests the stretch of your walls, before pistoning into you with zeroed-in precision, sole focus to get you to come with him. The effort he was putting in could be seen in his abs - they have tightened with exertion, and with a light sheen on sweat, look absolutely delectable. 

Letting your hands roam, you bring Jimin’s face into your neck where you can hear every single breath, every hiss, every groan - that you could record and keep in your memory. With one hand tugging his tresses, and the other hand drawing paths on his back with your nails, you hear the sounds you want to. Jimin sharply bites your ear, and the shockwaves of pleasure send you tipping. 

There’s layers to the pleasure you are experiencing right now, your orgasm hitting you in ebbs and flows. Right when you think you can finally return back to ground, the high tide pulls you back into the water for another stream of pleasure. It feels like eternity when you finally hit the land, and even then the loose sand makes you falter, threatens to send you back into the ocean.

Jimin’s pace is faltering, and he spills soon after. Hot, heavy breaths tickle under your ear, as both of you feel the sheer intensity of the orgasm. Him on you, your hearts are aligned, and you can feel the beats fighting each other for dominance until they soften down. 

Ripples of energy flow out of the both of you, elevating the temperature around the two of you. If you didn’t have your eyes closed you’d say literal rolls of steam are emanating from the way you both are heaving. You slowly regain your senses, twitching hands trying to remember what it is that hands even do. 

A shiver runs through your spine when you hear a grunt so close to your ear, only to realize Jimin is in the same position as you are in. Even without looking, you can guess what his expression is. Void of any edge, the softness of his facial features must have made their return, with crinkled eyes and a light frown on his beautiful pouty lips, he probably looks like an innocent caricature of the man that stood behind you moments ago. Letting your palm rest on his head, you beckon him to get up.

If Jimin is a color, he is the pinkness best portrayed by his puffy cheeks at this moment. A childlike glow, a guileless visage. He looks at you with such adoration, like you are the only desire in his world, and everything else can be damned.

You don’t want to break this silence but you cheekily add, “You didn’t even get me naked. Like this a bit too much eh?”

Dark clouds mar the pink and turn it into a deep, sultry carmine - the shift in his color noticeably brings your temperature down by a few degrees.

“Cute. You think I’m done with you.”

He is the whole palette, and you can pick your filter.

Thank you for making it to the end! Let me know what you think! And you can find more of my writing at my masterlist here!