#then i have to trace over it in pencil

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[twst-the-night-away]

Casual Savvy!

I was tagged a few days back by @comingyourlugubriousness in a "draw your OC in a casual outfit" game! I wanted to draw Savvy in an outfit inspired by Charlotte La Bouff from The Princess and the Frog, since that's who she (and her sister, long story) are twisted from, but it was ... not going well. I started 3 or 4 times and didn't like what I ended up with. I was about to give up until I saw @vaporvipermedia draw their OC Kei in a Tiana-inspired outfit. That gave me the push I needed to finally get Savvy done so that she and Kei could hang out together!

The dress is pink with a darker pink sash, just like Lottie's princess dress. The charms on her bracelet are an obvious reference to The Princess and the Frog, and her other bracelet has the design from Lottie's tiara. I tried to make her bag look a little ruffly like a fan. And of COURSE she needed a little powder puff dangling from it!

I'm tagging @twstinginthewind 'cause I wanna see some of her cuties in casual outfits!

[californianedgeworth]

I have so much internal conflict about coloring my sketchbook sketches. bcus if I like it I should color it. but if I go over the sketch again with paint/marker/liner then what if I ruin it and I don't have a good sketch anymore. but then all my favorite art is just in pencil and I find that a little boring

[pileofmush]

luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.

when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 

you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.

you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 

but he does. 

he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 

it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.

and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.

but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.

and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 

and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.

but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 

everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.

“what’s wrong?”

you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 

luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.

“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 

he shrugs. “wherever you want.”

and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 

you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 

[stereotypicalsanriofemme]

God, it wasn’t fair. Your two UNBELIEVABLY hot coworkers (who were roommates?!) invited you over for a few drinks, and you, the reputable horrible-liquor-holder, agreed. Three drinks later, you were sandwiched in between the two like it was a second nature, hands running all over your body and sending liquid heat scorching through your veins. Here you were, with your ass pressed up against the femme’s mini pencil skirt and your front grinding against the very-obvious-now hard packing bulge in the butch’s pants.

“Oh my god, doesn’t she look cute fucked out like this?” the femme murmured, pressing another lipstick-coated kiss to your throat that wracked a whimper out of you.

The butch grunted a little bit with a smirk, pressing her dick firmer against your dripping cunt. “Someone’s needy,” she teased, making you desperately duck away to hide your blush. It was such a perverted sight— you, completely naked, stuck between two fully-clothed women, hellbent on ruining you.

You don’t know how you got to this point now, with the butch’s cock half-lodged in your throat while your clit is gently stroked and teased, but with the way you were dripping you doubted you’d complain.

“C’mon, baby girl, you can take more in your throat,” the butch murmured, hands tangled in your hair. You couldn’t tell if the soft squelchs you heard were from your mouth as your head was guided up and down her cock or your cunt as a finger traces around your hole.

You moan quietly, trying to get more in but choking a bit at the tip. A harsh hand slaps down on your ass and makes you yelp, which gives her that perfect opportunity to fuck her cock just a bit deeper in you.

“Oh, good girl!” The femme cooed, giving you a little slap on the ass as encouragement. “You can be a good little cockslut for her, honeybun, it doesn’t take that much work.”

The butch scoffed in amusement at her words, cocking her head to the side in a challenge. “Oh yeah? Last time I checked, someone took more than a few months to throat me properly.”

This time it was the femme’s turn to blush, looking away and stammering. “Well— whatever! Besides, can’t I have my turn to feel good now? Ugh.”

“What,” the butch drawled, “someone’s pussy is all ignored from the attention not being on her for once? We can switch, honey.”

Being ignored and used as these two gorgeous women’s plaything had you throbbing and squirming, dripping wet and desperate for attention. With a gasp and some tears rolling down your face, the butch slid her cock out of her throat and tapped your mouth lightly with the tip. “Good girl. You wanna be good, right? Be good for sir and princess?”

You moaned, loud, desperate and fucking horny. “Please, please please please sir, princess— please let me make you feel good, please—“

“Aww, she’s all cute when she’s throatfucked stupid!” The femme chirped, switching spots with the butch. Her manicured nails undid each of her buttons, one by one, revealing the curves of her firm breasts. Sliding up her skirt, you were gifted with the view of up her skirt, no panties. “Now, cutie, are you gonna be good and let me sit on your face?”

Your mouth opened to respond but all thoughts were cut short at the feeling of the butch’s cock prodding open your entrance. Taking it as a green light, she pressed her dripping pussy against your mouth, making you moan at the taste. Your tongue licked frantically over her cunt, savoring every moment you had tongue-fucking her as your own hole burned deliciously with the pleasure of being stretched open.

Every strong stroke inside of you made your legs tremble as you moaned while eating her out, eyes damp from feeling so fucking good, you felt so goddamn good—

Your eyes look around her for a second. The two girls were kissing vigorously, tongue-fucking each other while using your body as a vessel for pleasure.

Oh god, you were going to come so hard.

[men LEAVE ME ALONE. I’m a dyke. commissions open on my kofi :3]

[bogleech]

Many parasites takeover the minds and bodies of insects, spiders or other creatures, making them like zombies. You’ve listed some in spider-ween and other places. Do you know any parasites that take over bees? I know wasps lay their eggs in their larva, but haven’t really found anything about those that pilot a bee’s body.

Strepsipterans! Also frequently just called "Stylops"

These are the weirdest most alien insect group in existence. What you're seeing are the head ends of the mature females; their bodies are just bags of tissue that absorb nutrients from the host, so they no longer have any trace of limbs or wings and their flat little heads no longer have mouths or eyes.

The only reason the female's heads stick out of the host at all is because the head evolved into the end they mate with. The short-lived mature male is a very tiny flying thing (whose anatomy is unlike any other insect alive today - a totally unique type of wing, unique eye arrangement, we have NO idea what these evolved from, except for some loose connections to beetles!) who mates by breaking through the female's featureless armored face with his bladed genitalia and then he dies. And Strepsiptera can be found infecting all sorts of arthropods, even apparently some arachnids, but none of those arthropods really tend to sit still when a little tiny flying man tries to land on them, so the females usually do something to their hosts (we aren't sure what exactly) to make them slower and more complacent. Social Hymenoptera like bees are especially common hosts though, and when a worker bee or wasp is infected by stylops, she actually abandons her colony and her duties for extended periods of time to just perch in one place while the parasite broadcasts its mating pheromones. This is especially eerie from the bee's perspective; a worker bee is a female bee that wasn't allowed to become a queen and isn't "supposed" to be going around mating, but now she's sitting around waiting for a male just like any other bug that wants to be a mom. It's just not a male of her species and she's not the one who gets to reproduce. Is the parasite tapping into buried queen behavior? Does the bee's little brain think it's calling for a drone to help it start a new hive? Or does the parasite just make the bee a lazy slob who stops caring about her hive and just feels like chilling out on a flower all day? We might never know.

Here are those unique eyes of the male for anyone wondering. Not set in a fine multifaceted grid like in other insects, but clustered, still set in their own individual "sockets" like we see in much more ancient arthropods like trilobites! This suggests that Strepsipteran eyes date back to when insects were first beginning to evolve towards true compound eyes, but there still aren't many insects in the fossil record that have anything else in common with these animals. EDIT: oh yeah I forgot to include that these are in the children's book made by @revretch and I!

I did the rough pencil sketch of this page while Rev did the beautiful inks! I felt kids should know about these animals but I tried to explain it in the most kid-friendly way possible.

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned. Pt. 2

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: Azriel knew you can't read. And he knows you would never admit it. So he tricks you into taking reading lessons.

Warnings: Slight mentions of nightmares.

part one part three, Part Four Masterlist Requests are open!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You had come into your room to grab something. And had lost every train of thought as you saw the note neatly placed on top of the book you carted around for show- not quite sloppy hand writing but it was clearly male and in a rush. A...stick figure drawing of you? Clearly Feyre had not drawn this. But there is an attention to detail, your hair is colored correctly, and your eyes also the right shade- or as close as you could get in crayon. Truthfully, it could have been anyone female but since it was in your room, it was safe to assume. And then a book- the library? Is that where this mystery would be solved. You were far too curious now to just not go.

And so, you folded the note up and put in into one of your pockets. Heading down there quickly. The only sound as you enter is the clicking of your shoes. Looking around you, and making your way over to Clotho's desk. The priest doesn’t look up at you but quickly writes, 'Ah, y/n to what do we owe the pleasure?'

You smile and pull out the note to show it to her. "It seems- I was summoned." Clotho's amusement oozes off her and she simple writes.

'Go down to level five and you should find what you're looking for.' Squinting suspiciously at her for just a second you debate listening. But that is your inner Nesta speaking, and as much as you loved your oldest sister you didn't want to be completely like her. So, complying with a general order wouldn’t be an issue.

Thanking Clotho quickly you make your way down to the fifth level. And you could have throttled Azriel as he looked over at you with a set of children's books, letter sheets and pencils. He was leisurely sitting there, legs crossed, his ankle resting on his thigh. Arms crossed as he looked at you. And knowing him, while his face remained neutral- he had a feline smirk just like Rhys’s on the inside. Stomping over, crossing your arms and glaring down at the Illyrian man you hiss, "What are you doing?"

"Teaching you how to read." He answers simply, not even slightly phased by your intense gaze. The shadows that normally linger around him aren’t there, instead- as if to mock how little of a threat you are- they pool at his feet like a dog. You'd have to talk to Nesta about getting that icy glare down pat.

"You're still on about that?" You scuff, turning on your heel to leave him with his silly ideas. But before you can get far, a gentle but rough hand grabs your elbow.

"If you can read, then I'll accept I was wrong and even buy you dinner." Azriel compromises. But he knew better, he saw the way your eyes glazed over when they looked at your book and there was no rhyme or reason as to when you flipped the page. Normally people had consistency when they were reading, You had none. Even when Nesta was reading smut there was consistency to it- albeit the page turns got faster but it was still consistent.

You were convinced you could do this. You didn't need him to know this about you. Not even your sisters knew- sure Nesta and Elain probably had inklings to it but you were just six when poverty struck. They were just kids too, it wasn't there job to teach you. Sitting down at the table you looked at the page. It was easy- just trace the letters. You could do that. So you picked up the pencil and started. And once you were done you slid it over to him. "See?"

He nods, taking the sheet and looking it over. Nodding as he examines the work. Then he sets it down and meets your intense eyes, but he doesn't shy away. He takes the first book off the stack. It was a young child's book- it should be a breeze for someone of your age. Prick. You think as he slides it over and folds his hands on the table. Watching the way your eyes widen. Your breathing hitches and there's a slight tremble to your hands as you take the book. He knows that look in your eyes- it's the one Feyre gets when she's calculating a plan. And he couldn't deny that he was slightly excited to see what you'd come up with.

Flipping open the book you know what he's probably looking for is some sortive consistency, so you'd let your eyes look at each word and then flip the page. And so, that's what you did. Finding it hard to keep up your little deception with his eyes focused so intensely on you. But you got to the end of the book and closed it with a triumphant smack. Looking back up at him- before you can open your mouth to speak, Azriel looks at you and asks. "What was it about?"

Shit. Fuck. You didn't look at the pictures! You quickly look down at the book and see a dog and a young boy on the cover. "Its about a dog and his owner." You say as evenly as you can manage for how fast your heart was beating. Azriel raises an eyebrow. Silently waiting for more. "When did you get so expressive?" You ask to quickly change the subject.

"I don't have to be on guard here. There is no one else around. And the priestess won't judge me for showing an emotion." He addresses your question simply, smoothly. Damn him and his stupid sliver tongue. He was the Shadowsinger! Of course he knew how to evade topics and questions to redirect to what he wanted! He taps the book in between the two of you again. And you look at his hands, scars running all along them, and of course you had know that. But it was the first time that you saw them this clearly. And as much as you wanted to get out of this situation- you knew that question was out of the question. "What is this about?" His voice remains gentle, but slightly stern.

Azriel watches you for any signs. He had seen many of them- you were a bad liar. Your emotions written all over your face. Your eyes, they showed everything. How no one else saw it astonished him. And for a second, as he watches how you look down at the book with apprehension and sorrow, that you quickly wash away once your gazes meet again...he sees your resolve break.

"Fine." You say quietly. "I can't read." Your cheeks heat at the confession- it felt so...so...mortifying that you were now twenty, an immortal High Fae and had no idea how to read. "Please don't tell the others." The last thing you wanted was for your sisters to look at you with that pitiful look they always seemed to give you when you mentioned something. Let alone, how awful it make you feel if Nesta fell back into her vices. Granted you knew Cassian wouldn’t let that happen.

He thinks his heart might just burst for a moment. Seeing you so somber. Azriel had watched you from the second you were dumped out of that Cauldron. Shaking, crying, gasping for air. The first thing you did was try and push it over so your sisters wouldn’t bare the same fate. And for the first few weeks after, when he heard your screams in the middle of the night. He'd make sure you were alright, given you the space to talk to him if needed. You rarely took the opportunity. Pushing him away despite him reaching out. Keeping him at an arms length for reasons he didn’t understand. Time, though. Everyone kept telling him with time, you’d come around. But you pushed him right into Elain. Not that he hated your older sister. No, far from it. They were good friends, they could talk for hours about anything and everything. But she wasn't you. She wasn't his. She had her mate, and Rhys has made it clear to him that despite his feelings toward her- they could never be. Lucian wouldn't accept it until she flat out rejected him, and even then they had no idea what the other male would do. Rhys didn't want to loose his brother over a girl. And while Azriel grumbled and snarled at him, deep down. He knew that he was right.

But watching you, moving through the Night Court with a smile that didn't reach your eyes and a grace that rivaled Elain's...Hearing your laugh in a crowed room and smiling into his drink. He knew that you made yourself seem happy, chipper, played the part of the sweet younger sister for everyone. So looking at you now, as your cheeks burn red and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. He'd do anything he could to make sure you'd never look like that again. Azriel gently takes your hand, letting his thumb swipe over your knuckles as you look up at him. "I won't tell a soul."

And you believe him. The sincerity in his eyes, he's got no reason to lie to you. But you can't help the smile that creeps up. "Thank you."

And a comfortable silence falls as you both continue to look at each other and let your thoughts run free. Before Azriel clears his throat- and you were about 87% sure that there was a blush creeping in. "I can continue to teach you, if you'd like."

Looking down at the book in between you, where your hand was still in his. Tracing the lines of his scars gently, you nodded. "I think i'd like that."

Azriel didn't bother to hide his smile.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: This got very long, very fast. But I hope you all like it! Let me know if there is anything else you guys wanna see! And if y’all wanna be added to the tag list, let me know! :3

tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 

She’s never been more aroused in her life. 

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 

This is torture for him. 

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

HOPE U LOVED IT!!!! :-) CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR OTHER SNEAKIES AND BLURBS

[cultrise]

MIRROR SEX. SAL FISHER

♱ CONTENTS NSFW, mirror sex, clit rubbing, riding him, soft sex, a little praise, p in v ᵎᵎ wc 2.2k

ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !

your boyfriend might not have been as attentive all the time, and that was fine.

you understood the constant struggles sal went through, with everything going on from his nightmares to the paranormal investigation he had ongoing for years. it was his thing, but lately, he had been obsessed about it.

you sighed as you walked around the house, passing by neil who was hurrying out the front door “hey! call me or todd if you need anything, yeah?” you turned around, a smile plastered to your cheeks as you saw the way neil’s dressed “sure thing, dude. have a nice date!” you coo, bending over the kitchen counter and flashing him a smile.

the tall man makes his way out of the house before stopping and rushing back in, panicked “have you seen?–“ you raise your hand, showing him his phone “this?” he lets out a relieved breath, taking the phone away from your hands “fuck.. thanks. almost forgot my own head again” you smile, giving him a slight pat on his shoulder “go. you’ll be late” he smiles back before heading to the door “oh yeah, by the way. might wanna check on sal. dude’s been in the shed for a while now. think he didn’t sleep last night”

you bite down on your lip as the door closes. in truth, you did miss out on the weight of your boyfriend’s body next to you in bed the other night. you just hoped you were wrong. making your way through the backdoor, you step out into the yard, the sunlight blinding your sight. you take in the fresh air, the warm sun, the lively chirping of the birds. your hands hover over the passcode on the door.

the door makes a creaking noise as you push it and you’re welcomed to the sight of the rusty shed, walls filled with articles, pages, and clues regarding the cult you were all investigating. it had been a long treacherous journey that was nowhere close to being over. which is why sal sat at the table, analysing some newspapers into the lamp light. you leaned your weight onto the doorframe as two tired eyes pierced at you from behind the mask.

“damn, you look like shit” you state as sal scoffs “gee, thanks, babe. it’s why i wear a prosthetic” your lips open at his response before you roll your eyes “you know that’s not what i meant, sally” the blue-haired boy chuckles as you approach him. you move one hand to the back of his head, fingers unclasping his mask and setting it down on the table. you take his face into your hands and his head drops limp into them, letting himself be caressed.

your digits trace his scars and run over his tired eyelids “there’s my pretty boy” his eyes shoot open, lips moving upwards into a smirk “thought i looked like shit” your response comes in a second eye roll “i don’t know why you wear that mask around the house. it’s summer, sal, your face is all sweaty” you brush the hair sticking on the sides of his face away “habit” he replies as he sneaks a hand to your waist, burying his head into your tummy with a tired sigh.

“take a break” your voice drops an octave as your fingers work their way to his scalp “please” and he groans in response, pushing himself into your touch “fine.. wasn’t getting anywhere anyway” he moves his head to the right, watching the mess of papers and pencils on the table, all scattered words and underlined phrases that led to nothing in the end. it was frustrating, he felt obligated to help. yet every clue they had found seemed to either be erased by the members of the cult or led nowhere, which made them start over completely.

you back up, making room for him to get up. sal tiptoes, fingers reaching up to the ceiling as he stretches with a yawn, his hoodie rolling up to reveal his abdomen. you try not to stare at the happy trail peeking out from his boxers “after you” he so gentlemanly offers as you both step out of the shed, closing the door tightly behind you. and soon enough, the creak of the bed is heard as he throws his whole weight on the mattress with a content sigh.

you giggle at his behaviour, arms crossed over your chest. he gestures for you to join him, standing on the edge of the bed as he motions you to sit between his legs. as soon as you do, sal slouches, placing his chin on your shoulder and relaxing his sore muscles “missed you” he says quietly as his arms trap your waist into an embrace “i live with you, sal. how can you miss me?” you smile as you play with the rings on his fingers.

you look up at the mirror in front of the bed, watching sal’s expression shift. his eyes meet yours and your spine shivers at the intensity of his blue orbs “i haven’t been around these days. with the investigation and all. i’m sorry” your head cocks to the side, resting atop his “i understand why you do it, sally. it’s alright” he gently shakes his head “it isn’t. you’re the most important person in my life right now. there’s no excuse for ignoring you”

heat rushes to your cheeks at the serious manner of his speech, the sudden confidence rush hitting you like a truck “larry’s gonna be mad if he hears that” you smile as sally meets your expression with a grin “i’m serious, baby” your hand intertwines with his and you sigh, contented “you’re here now” cold lips touch the surface of your neck in chaste kisses “mhm”

“you need to take care of yourself more. you’re fucking up your sleep again” you scold him as he pouts, halting his ministrations “i mean it, sal” he nods, pulling away slightly, in defence “okay okay. i got it” you truly hope he does, since he has a habit of promising to take care of himself and not doing it “i sure hope so” and sal smiles, pressing a cheek to yours as he meets your eyes in the mirror again “i will do it. just not yet”

“what do you mean ‘not yet?’ “ you frown as he smiles, hands traveling from your waist to your hips and thighs “want to take care of you first” your eyes widen and your heart rate quickens at the implication “of me?” he smiles, gently pressing kisses to the space behind your ear “you know what i mean” and you feel yourself break into sweat. you want to be selfish. you want him to let you take care of you in a way only he can. but you also don’t want to rob the precious sleep time away from him.

“you should rest” you say, almost breathless as he smiles against the skin of your jaw “i’ll rest afterwards” his right hand slides up, tugging at the waistband of your pants and sneaking in between your legs. your breath hitches as his fingers find their way to your clothed clit and start rubbing gentle circles on it. you suddenly recall the first time you got intimate with him. the shy stares, the red cheeks, the stuttering. over the course of your relationship, sally had gotten way more confident, being able to keep that soft and tender heart of his intact despite the trauma he had endured.

you loved this man beyond words, he was aware of it and was sure to remind you every day that he felt the same. from small touches to telling you directly, sal was scared of making you ever think he had changed his mind in any way about you. if anything, he was probably falling in love with you more every day. and he knew the spark between you wasn’t about to die anytime soon. especially since he could feel the wetness pooling on the fabric of your panties after a few kisses and light touches.

“should’ve told me you missed me so much” sal whispers as you take ahold of his wrist, biting back a moan “you seemed tired. i didn’t.. fuck.. didn’t want to distract you from your work” you whined as he watched you in the mirror. you felt his hard-on poke your lower back “you know i’ll always make time for you” and his words go straight to your aching cunt, as he starts rubbing faster and faster. you dreaded the idea of having to clean your clothes afterwards.

your moans get louder as he settles his face in the crook of your neck again, sniffing your hair and taking your scent in “missed you so much.. fuck. how could i leave you for that stupid investigation? i’m such an idiot” he groans as his other hand sneaks under your hoodie and starts squeezing lightly at your breast. “don’t call yourself that” you scold again, before choking out a desperate moan. you were so close.

the moan makes sal’s breath hitch and his hand stops it’s movements as you look at him through the glass pane in front of you “sorry, i can’t do this anymore. need you so badly” he groans as he undoes his sweatpants, pulling them down slightly alongside his boxers. his dick springs out, tip leaking with precum as he grips your hips. you’re quick to follow his lead, removing your pants and soaked panties as you raise yourself slightly.

he guides you over him, nails digging into your hips as he points to the mirror “look at me with those pretty eyes” and you listen because it’s very rare that sal takes this kind of initiative, if any, in the bedroom. his blue eyes scan over your flushed face as he pushes your hips down, cunt swallowing his length. the friction makes you moan in unison, his cock sliding with ease between your folds.

by his stare you could tell he didn’t intend on breaking eye contact and, no matter how flustered you were by it, he looked too good to stare any other way. as your ass touches the skin of his thighs you both take a moment to adjust to the feeling, gasping softly at the way he’s feeling you up “shit.. missed this so much” sal moans as he looks down at the way you’re sitting on him “oh my god, sally, move!” you whine as he moans in approval, hands guiding your hips to ride him.

“shitshitshit you feel so good,,, fuck me” sal moans, throwing his head back slightly before he looks down once again, watching the way your wetness spreads on his dick. your hand flies to your mouth as you try to muffle your moans, failing miserably. as your eyes open you can see him staring at you once again through the mirror, cheeks red. the air in the room seems to disappear as your hip movements get quicker, needier. after all, he had unintentionally interrupted your orgasm and you were in desperate need to cum.

noticing your demeanour and reminding himself of how he stopped making you feel good a few moments ago, one of his hands trails down to your cunt, rubbing at your puffy clit again. your pussy clenches around him desperately, his name coming out from your lips like a prayer “sal, oh my god… please.. shit” and he groans in approval, muttering a string of “i know, baby, i know” as he pushes his hips up so he can reach deeper into your core.

your nails dig into his thighs and he kisses your spine lovingly as your eyes roll in the back of your head. his left hand supports your weight as your body shudders, making sure you don’t fall over “fuck, sally!” you whine as you cum all over his cock and thighs, making a mess on the sheets. his hand slides up from between your legs to your hair, caressing it gently as he praises you. you watch him in the mirror with half-closed eyes, nodding at him so he continues to move inside of you.

his lips touch the space between your shoulder and neck as he looks at you, continuing to push him on his cock, desperate to get himself off. you smile at him gently, taking in the view “i love you” you let out, earning a moan “love you too… shit… you’re so pretty” sal whines as he feels himself coming undone in return. it doesn’t take long until he’s filling you up with thick layers of cum, moaning and gripping at your hips with staggered breaths.

you both fall back on the mattress, panting softly as you try to reach for your panties to put them back on. you were way too tired to clean up. you turn your attention to your boyfriend, eyes closed as he pants softly, lips formed into a tiny ‘o’. your cheek presses against his chest, hand moving his face to the side and making him open his eyes.

you caress his features, watching his gaze soften as your eye and mouth corners turn up into a smile “hey” and he mirrors your expression, pressing a kiss to your palm, pupils almost turning into hearts “hey”

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

[thesuperiorrobin]

It’s past midnight and Damian thinks you are sound asleep in your bedroom, which is why he’s surprised to see you wide awake sitting by your desk writing away on a piece of paper. you don’t hear your window slide open and you don’t feel his presence when he steps foot into your bedroom, too engrossed in whatever you’re doing.

“You should be asleep” his voice is soft but firm, not wanting to scare you. But he does, slightly though. When you jump a bit and turn around your eyes soften, with tired eyes and a tired smile you can only reply:

“I have to study for finals” and wave the piece of paper slightly. He frowns, watching as you go back to your assignment ignoring him. He strips the mask off his face, creeping up beside you, Damian snatches the pencil from your hand, and with a huff, you send him a glare “Damian cmon” you whine “I have to finish my missing assignments and I have to study I don’t have time for this”

he doesn’t say anything as his green eyes stare back at yours, taking in the tried expression they hold and the dark circles they seem to be forming under your eyes. “From what I know, finals aren’t for another week” The pencil is placed back down on your desk and he takes your hand in his, pulling you to your feet. You whine has a protest. “Finals are important to you, I know, but cutting back on sleep won’t help you”

“You sound just like my parents”

Damian huffs, dragging you with him as he takes you to your bed. You don’t seem to fight back as he leads you in the covers, tucking you in as you turn to your side and pat the spot next to you. He complies, laying on his back with his fingers intertwined and placed on his midsection.

“Don’t overwork yourself”

“I wasn’t. Don’t worry” you leaned closer, enjoying the warmth his suit was giving. You nuzzle closer to his shoulder, finger tracing over the stitched R on his suit as your mind wanders for a bit. “You think I’ll do good”

“I think you’ll do fantastic beloved, now go to sleep” he leaned down to kiss your temple, and with one final sigh, you close your eyes, sleep taking over you quickly.

IM DONE WITH THIS SEMESTER!

did I fail my math? YEP!

Am I still passing with a D ABSOLUTELY. That’s all that matters 😋

[seraphicsentences]

hiiii its you know whooo, some reader x ellie arms and hands worship would make me sooooo weak. imagining those fingers in my mouth drives me wild🤭

hi you know whooo 😚 yes i absolutely can… i’m losing it just thinking about this while writing. have fun with this one ;) hoping to drive ya wild

~

ellie tightened her arm around your waist, biceps flexing as she muttered, “stop moving,” under her breath.

you traced your finger down her arm, admiring the way you could just barely wrap your hand around half of it, squeezing and groaning silently at how rock solid it felt.

you were seated in ellie’s lap, facing her, lips tracing gently over her pulse point as she worked away busily at some astrophysics assignment. such a nerd.

you couldn’t help the way wetness pooled in your panties after straddling her for so long. ellie’s scrunch between her eyebrows reminded you too much of the way she looked when she came hard on your tongue, or when she was thrusting deep into you— splitting you wide open against the mattress.

her strong arm pressing you closer to her large(er— we know ellie’s not massive, but for the sake of this she’s more built than you.) frame overwhelmed your senses with the delirium of possession, just knowing that you were hers, and you found yourself lost in a trance as you watched her hand continue to scribble down various numbers and symbols.

ellie’s long, calloused fingers shifted as she worked; curling as she twirled her pencil, bending when she cracked her knuckles mindlessly, veins popping when she flipped through that thick textbook of hers.

you nipped at her neck, dizzy with need, and desperate to work your mouth against something.

“your wetness is seeping onto my boxers, baby,” ellie laughed lowly, “can feel you pulsing against my thighs. you that needy for me?”

you almost mewled at the sound of her voice, raspy from its lack of usage, warm chest vibrating against yours as she spoke.

“want you so bad, els,” you whispered, legs squeezing around hers as you rocked slightly to soothe the throbbing at your core.

she runs a hand up and down your back softly, stopping at the top to run her fucking fingers through your hair. “mmm, i know. gotta be patient for me, ‘kay babe?”

“ellie-“ you whine.

“shhh, shh shh shh- shut up.” (DYK WHAT AUDIO IM REFERENCING HELP.)

“open,” she taps two fingers on your lips.

she taps again. “c’mon, be good f’me.”

you let her slide them in, swirling your tongue around and between the two digits, sucking and licking at them, utterly hypnotized.

a slight metallic taste coats your mouth as you reach the base of her fingers, decorated with her thick silver rings, and you groan around them.

“god, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?” ellie teases, arm muscles straining as she reaches down to squeeze your ass harshly, “fucking slut, can’t go a couple hours without something fillin’ your holes.”

you moan in response, muffled, as you lift your head in attempt to take her fingers further into your mouth, drool spilling out the sides as you make a mess of her hand to match the one between your thighs.

“uh-huh,” she cooes, green eyes burning into yours as she says, “go grab my strap. clearly need something more to shut you up.”

[demieyesore]

Tear You Apart - Anakin Skywalker

Summary - Anakin's obsession with you is slowly taking over; He keeps hoping it'll just go away but quickly realizes that it won't.

Song inspo - "Tear you apart" by She wants revenge

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, No use of Y/n, AFAB!Reader,  ... Cannibal!Anakin ... CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE OKAY ... He doesn't literally eat the reader tho, only sexually LMFAO. Anakin is a serial killer tho. Modern AU, College AU, Stalker!Anakin, Yandere!Anakin, Smoking (I don't smoke or do drugs so idk if I wrote it correctly but whatever) Some 18+ but it's really not full on smut lmfao, more like it's just known that they're doing it

A/N - Okay finally actually deciding to write because I keep thinking about Anakin and this song...

Requested - No

Word Count - 1.5k

Anakin Skywalker, a serial killer that hides behind the name "Darth Vader". He didn't choose this name for himself, it was given to him by the media after his first 3 murders. Well known for killing and eating his victims, people began to avoid leaving the house. The FBI were investigating the deaths, trying to find any trace of him. 

They wouldn't ever find him. He knew that. He had been so careful to make sure that nothing lead the cops to him.

Or to you.

You are his everything. His world. All the murders are a symbol of his love for you. Everything he ate from his victims were something you had touched. If he didn't eat it, you didn't touch it. But that doesn't mean he didn't still take anything.

The first victim, a boy in your college class. He simply asked to barrow a pencil but when you gave him the writing utensil, Anakin immediately took notice of how your hand brushed against his.

His eyes narrowed at the frat guy's hand, his tongue poking at his inner cheek in annoyance and frustration. 

Why would you touch him? He was dirty. All men are and you should be aware of that. You should be more careful about who you touch. Anakin would think in his mind, scolding you as he makes a note of who the douchebag was.

Two weeks later, he was found dead. His left hand missing and instead resting in Anakin's stomach. Of course from just the first victim, they couldn't assume he was actually eating the victims, they couldn't even be sure that this was a serial killer when there were no other deaths.

The second victim came about a month after that. In honor of the frat boy's passing, you and your friends went to a college party. This party was only about a week after the frat boy passed. You got a little too drunk, you could barely stand upright. What was Anakin supposed to do? Especially after he saw how handsy some guy was being with you? After he saw how he tried to lead you upstairs. 

You unfortunately went with him, too drunk to fight back but that's okay! Anakin will take care of you like always. 

Anakin saw how the sober party goer kissed you, he had to figure out how to protect you without drawing attention to himself.

He picked up a half empty red solo cup, standing by the staircase as he chucked the cup at your best friend. He swiftly walked away from the stairway, leaning against a doorframe as your best friend turned around.

She was clearly pissed, already a good sign for Anakin. She was scoping out the scenery, looking for who could have thrown the cup at her when she saw you making out against a wall with a dude that definitely was not your type. She stomped up the stairs, grabbing your wrist as she pulled you back downstairs and out of the party.

Anakin smiled to himself, holding a new cup with some kind of alcohol. His eyes drifted to the moron you were kissing. God how he wanted to kiss you too. Jealously spiked in his heart, his eyes darkening already trying to form a plan. 

So three weeks later, same thing happened. Another guy found dead. He wasn't missing his hand this time, no it was something more personal. 

His tongue.

The tongue that was practically shoved down your throat. He enjoyed cutting out his tongue while he was still alive, wanting him to know that this is what happens when you try to take advantage of someone who's drunk.

This pattern continued, making sure that the murders were far away enough from when you last interacted with the fucking losers.

I mean who would suspect you? Oh yeah, you gave a guy a pencil and he never gave it back? Such good motivation to kill someone. 

Now of course, the second one could be motivation but you were so drunk that you didn't even remember it in the morning. And your best friend didn't say anything about it. Anakin would have known if she did, he has spyware installed on all your devices, recording devices in your dorm room and with how often he's watching you, he would of course know.

The other murders he committed were similar, anyone who came into contact with you that he disliked... a couple weeks or even months later, they'd end up dead.

No one put together that it was involved with you. I mean even you didn't. It wasn't like you were dating anyone, he didn't have to kill a boyfriend. Only small... inconveniences.

That old geezer at your job that kept harassing you? Dead, his eyes gouged out.

The girl at the movie theater that was an absolute bitch? She was on a fucking phone call during the whole movie. She was interrupting the date you and Anakin were on! It didn't matter to him that you didn't know you were on a date. It was a movie you were really looking forward to but the cunt couldn't keep her mouth shut. Yeah well, it's fine because she also ended up dead, her ears missing.

Nothing would come between you and Anakin. You may have only talked to him a couple of times, mainly to work on a project but it didn't matter. He knew you thought he was cute. He was watching you even before that. 

Anakin didn't even want to like you as much as he does. When he first saw you, he felt a connection. Convinced himself that he was crazy. He would tell himself that he didn't need you. That he wouldn't give into his urges. 

It became useless after a while. He was already hooked before you ever spoke to him.

But it solidified when you were stressing yourself out over an exam. You went outside, needing a smoke break. Anakin had been working on a scheme to be able to talk to you. Wanting to make sure how he felt about you before he took it too far.

He watched as you groaned, pulling out your pack of cigarettes and realizing none were left. You swore you had one more left, you rummaged through your bag looking for the last one when he tapped your shoulder.

You turned around, confused with a dazed look on your face when you saw him.

Anakin held out a pack to you. It was your favorite brand and you thanked him as you took one of the cigarettes.

You leaned towards him when he flicked his lighter on. He lit his first, pressing it between his lips as he towered over you slightly, his left hand holding the lighter on while his right hand protected the flame from any wind. Your cigarette ignited as you happily took an inhale of it.

Anakin knew for a fact that he would obsess over this for the next two days even when he told himself that it's only just a crush. It'll go away.

When you smiled up at him he had to repeat his little affirmations to himself, not wanting to be attached. 

"It's just like all the others, it'll go away." He thought to himself.

He prayed for it to go away but his obsession just continued to grow.

I guess that's how you got here, underneath him. His obsession, his "crush" just never went away.

Anakin slowly invaded your life, not wanting to frighten you away. He may have eaten parts of people but it was just a metaphor for his love. Something he took a little too seriously.

He'd never hurt you, ever. Not unless he absolutely had to. But even then he wouldn't. He'd only just make threats.

You're too pure for him to hurt.

The only way he'd hurt you, was sexually. 

He craved to hold you close, your skin pressed against him tight.

"Lie still, close your eyes..." Anakin would mumble against your lips, pulling himself away as he lined himself up with your entrance. He didn't want this to hurt you too badly.

He'd groan as he pushes himself into you. Thrusting into you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size. 

Anakin wanted this for so long, he couldn't help but to moan your name into the crevice of your neck as he sped up. 

"So-" A whimper escaped his mouth before he finished his sentence.

"So lovely, you feel so right..." His soft breath against your collar bone, you could feel his beating heart in his chest. 

He fucked into you deeper, a whisper fleeing his esophagus and into your eardrum.

"I want to fucking tear you apart."

Your hand brushed up against his, leaving it there. You told him how you felt, how much you loved him as you were both locked in a stare. 

Anakin's movements slowed at your confession, taking a moment to process what you just said before his lips met your again.

You weren't sure of how he felt, whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last.

Either way, Anakin wanted you and this was bad. He wanted, wants, to do things to you. It was making him crazy.

A little crush turned into a like.

Anakin grabbed you by your hair, gripping it roughly and told you.

"I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight."

[teaboot]

How do you make your patches for your vest? They look so cool!

Acrylic paint or matte fabric paint

Old black jeans

Cardboard or cardstock, ideally thin cardboard from packaging waste

Xacto knife

Pencil

Computer

Old sponge or makeup dabber

I pull up the logos from the bands I love and trace them onto printer paper or wax paper wirh pencil. Then I put that paper pencil-side-down on cardboard and rub the back hard until the pencil is transferred to the surface. Then I take an xacto razor and cut out the shape of the logo. Put the newly-made stencil right-side-up on the fabric and sponge paint on.

Let the paint dry, then go over it a few times if needed with a brush. Fix errors with black paint.

Sewing the patch on, I get double-sides fusing from the fabric store to make iron-on patches, or just pin them down and sew by hand.

Highly recommend double sided fusing for all kinds of patch jobs if you have issues sewing for any reason, just know that the glue melts into the fabric and will leave marks if you try to remove them later.

Glad you like 'em! ♡♡♡♡♡ V proud 😊

Current status: ⏬ ⏬ ⏬

Addition: here is what it looked like when I originally thrifted it- tag said it was a distressed denim forever 21 jacket, size large ⏬ ⏬ ⏬

for a lil how it is/how it started ♡

[lundenloves]

THE CARD

〔 this is dedicated to all the girlies who never stopped trying. because sometimes, putting up boundaries isn’t as easy as it seems and that’s okay. if you think i’m talking to you, i am. 〕

˗ˏˋ to be flat about it, simon’s daughter stopped making him birthday cards. this one unintentionally got a bit deep but i do that with everything so don’t act surprised.

⇀ 1.1k | no warnings

masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info | taglist

Your husband often forgot about his birthday. Lost to bad memories, and lack of care but primarily his job. Even still, it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to remember — feeling comfort in letting it slip under the rug, rubbing the back of his neck in absence when you had asked him the date. He insisted it was something to be ignored, and for your three years without kids it was, aside from the one present he reluctantly let you buy. 

Of course, that was until your first born came along. 

And there were a lot of things Simon didn’t know about having children. The obvious ones like the guilty regret late at night, being out of his depth and even how to deal with them. But, also their childlike wonder and passion for random things that seemed so foreign to him. Afterall, a birthday is a birthday, it never seemed to matter whose it was — your kid would turn to incredulous sobs if it wasn’t celebrated. Especially when she had found out about her fathers, bottom lip quivering when he had gently told her how he prefers to not do anything. 

It started when she was a toddler, forgetting about his birthday until she had heard you talking about it. Small ears perked up at the mention of the word, hanging by the door to watch as you traced Simon’s arm and the tattoos, his head shaking and a few words mumbled between you. Every year you asked if he wanted to do anything, knowing his answer but hoping for another.

So, naturally, she took to her bedroom. Trashing her small desk with dozens of crayons to create a card for Simon, one that was unevenly folded yet made with her whole heart. 

She did that every following year without fail. Except, her cards folded more evenly as time passed and the crayons were exchanged for pens, then pencils. The drawings got better and better, words spelt right and the inner messages were longer all before they had stopped entirely.

In seemingly simple change for a shop bought card. See, the words were joined together nicely though the message was shorter and the lack of ten kisses in exchange for one suddenly made the card seem empty. “Why’d you stop?” You would ask one night as the pair of you lay together in the dark, your husband's place taken by your daughter near every night when he was away. “Making the cards.”

She shrugged. “Didn’t think he cared.” 

When in reality, those cards were the only thing Simon looked forward to year round. And it wasn’t like he had outwardly expressed how much they meant to him, rather giving a weak smile and a soft kiss to her temple each time. But he kept them, every single one, every drawing was stored for safekeeping in a small box filled to the brim. Sketches that ranged from family drawings, to landscapes, animals and solo drawings of him if not herself.

Time ran from small limbs clambering over your own, six in the morning to reach Simon who had stirred when she fell onto his chest, a hand instinctively placed on the back of her head in his half-conscious state. “It’s your birthday!” She used to drag out with a laugh, sitting up on his stomach and holding the card mere centimeters from his face. 

To the last birthday, handing him the shop bought card in all teenage glory, too embarrassed to write ‘I love you’ so it came as a ‘Love you’ and the once overly done x’s and o’s were now a set of one. He didn’t know the first thing about teenagers either. How past a certain age everything felt detrimental and targeted, embarrassment seeped through everything and it wasn’t cool to like your dad anymore. 

Especially not as a teenage girl. 

And it wasn’t until he was away for his birthday for the first time in years that she had missed it. Missed the softening of his eyes and the way his arm would wrap around her shoulder and pull her to his side, hand rubbing her arm in acknowledgement of her efforts. 

She took his safety for granted most of the time. Waving to him at the door with no doubt that he would be back months later, a naturally blunt text that he was safe would be sent to you and all would be well. Though, sometimes he was required to hand his phone in before the tougher trips. Designed to provide the safest atmosphere, though back home many miles away it never did feel safer. And that was when she missed him the most. 

You always wanted what you couldn’t have.

Simon was no better. He had taken the younger years for granted. The tears before bed, stalking into his bedroom after a bad dream, tired eyes in the mornings and the excitement to see him once back home. He wasn’t to know when the last time he would pick up his daughter was, or the last time she would ask for help when reaching for a cereal box. Hell, even the final she had fallen asleep on his chest or asked him to stay until she had dozed off in her own ‘big’ bed. Small hands wrapping around his fingers, giggles and toothy grins had all evaporated into nothing. 

It was tough being a dad.

But it was hell being a teenage girl. 

Sometimes it felt ike you were made purely to drink iced coffee with alternative milk, wear baggy clothes and feel bad for old people every now and then. The act of growing up isn’t something you want, though something you concede to after realising you had wished your youth away. 

And in that, 

There was something about girls and their fathers. 

The constant need for subconscious approval and love, feeling bad for the man who raised you whenever he was left to eat dinner alone or scorned by your mother in a heated argument you couldn’t help to overhear. Simon’s daughter had always been in that predicament. 

She missed her dad when he left, yet hated when she shared the kitchen with him. It felt like an itch that you weren’t able to scratch, though his rare hugs completely killed all flame she had for him and sometimes, instead, they allowed for tears to flow. Because after all, a girl is really just her dad. 

Maybe that card should've been made after all. 

˗ˏˋ university is wiping me out already. it’s the first week back do you want to fucking calm down. been set two presentations (both recorded wtf) and three literature papers.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee

as always reblogs and comments are mighty appreciated blah blah blah

[spideyhexx]

i NEED more sejanus teaching coryo how to pleasure reader!! 😭😭

don't we all! This is more just experimenting? Idk we'll see, it's still something!

mdni

am having this thought about being at the library at the academy and you're studying alone, waiting for Sej and Coryo to join you.

They're not far from you. They're almost lurking near some bookshelves, talking about whatever class and whatever final they need to work on while Sej is looking for some book.

Coryo is very focused on you though. His gaze keeps slipping from Sej to you, a determined look on your face and a small crease in your brow as you go back and forth between reading and writing.

Sejanus notices and bumps his shoulder into the taller man's. "I bet you can't get her on her knees under the table."

Coryo doesn't expect something dirty to have come out of Sej's mouth and he looks at him, his eyes wide. "I can do that."

Sej gives him a little smirk. "Good luck." And then he's shoving Coryo forward towards you.

And poor Coryo, he really does try! He sits next to you and feigns interest in what you're doing, but you know this! His hand on your thigh is a dead giveaway, but you entertain it, wanting to see what he does.

Coryo would help you, recite stuff from the book you have open so you can jot it down in your study notes, his hand still on your thigh and rubbing it gently. He'd even try to mimic the curling of his fingers.

"You want something, Coryo?" You ask him finally and he swallows. He hates losing and now that the idea of you under the table with his cock down your throat is caressing his mind, he needs to make sure he wins the little bet Sej offered.

He takes your hand that isn't holding a pencil and puts it over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. The gesture is bold for him. You squeeze him through his pants and he bites on his tongue.

"I have work to do, sorry Snow." And then you're letting go of him and turning back to the papers and books in front of you.

Coryo leans in closer, his hand rubbing higher up your thigh. "I know, but maybe you need a little break? Refresh your mind?"

You chuckle at that and shake your head, "I'm good, Coryo." He's just about to beg you instead, but he doesn't let himself. He wants you to be the one begging to take his cock right here in the library, but he lacks the right skill to convince you it seems.

"I'll be right back," he mutters and stands up, walking away and disappearing in the bookshelves to find Sej laughing to himself.

"Very funny, thank you," he snarks at Sej. "Why don't you go try?"

Sej points to himself with a humorous smile on his face and pats Coryo's shoulder. "As you wish." Coryo watches from afar as Sej sits opposite you with the book he picked out.

For a good five minutes, the both of you sitting in silence. Then he sees Sej's head turn up and he seems to ask you something but Coryo can't hear. Once you respond, Sej is moving to sit next to you and Coryo finds a closer place he can eavesdrop.

You let go of your pencil and shake your hand out. "Oh, baby, you've been writing too much, here," Sej coos at you and reaches for your hand, massaging it in his own, effectively making you move closer to him.

Coryo rolls his eyes at it.

You lean your head down against Sej's shoulder as he massages your hand and Sej kisses your head. "You've been working so hard."

"I know, it's finals kicking my ass." Sej chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle.

"You'll be okay, baby, you're so smart and pretty." You laugh, holding onto his hand and kissing his knuckles just like he did yours.

"Being pretty has nothing to do with passing my finals."

Coryo seethes from his spot and he feels like he genuinely wants to punch Sejanus.

"Perhaps, but you're still my pretty girl, hm?" You nod and look up at the boy and his big brown eyes. Sej cups the side of your face with one of his hands, his thumb tracing underneath your bottle lip.

"You want to take a little break?" All you can do it nod and he kisses your forehead. "Good girl, you deserve it." Another kiss to your forehead, followed by a trail of them down your nose until his lips are lingering right over yours.

"You want me in your mouth, pretty girl? Can suck on me nice and slow, just relax?"

No words escape your lips, your body only knowing how to nod at this point and Sej takes a quick look around the library before helping you onto your knees between his legs.

You'd lock eyes with Coryo while your mouth is stuffed with Sej. Coryo hates that he loves it. Loves watching you do something so dirty despite the fact he lost the bet. That regardless if he's fooling around with you two, he's basically spying right now.

Sej's fingers dip under your chin and your gaze diverts back to the man above you.

"Only look at me right now, baby, okay?"

let's chat about sejanus, coryo, or both, here :)

[jjunberry]

enhypen! when you draw hearts on them

★☆ jungwon:

the two of you had spent the majority of today lazing inside cuddling. he had a day off and wanted to spend it with you. you were laying on your stomach sketching while jungwon laid next to you on his phone. you sighed and turned towards your boyfriend. he peaked over at you.

he grinned and rolled you up in his arms. letting out a shriek as you ended up sitting on his thighs. sitting back and admiring his beauty you got an idea. “oh wonnie stay there.” you leaned over grabbing your pencil case. inside your fingers shifted through the colors. deciding on red you placed the case down and turned towards jungwon.

his smile was wide. you uncapped the marker and leaned down. jungwon blushed as you got closer to him. using the marker you started drawing small hearts across his cheeks. “y/nie what are you doing?” he giggled. “wonnie be still i’m making art on art here!” he giggled some more.

smiling and leaning back you capped the marker. “done!” you cheered. you got off his lap and pulled him up. “go look!” jungwon went to the hallway mirror. there he saw the heart freckles you gave him. standing next to him you smiled. “aren’t you just so cute.” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing them to turn pink.

★☆ heeseung:

heeseung was spread out on the couch with his arm wrapped around you, while you cuddled into his side. the two of you were at the dorm with the others. you spaced out when heeseung pulled you closer to him. his cologne filling your senses. you traced your finger down his arm. you felt the tiny bumps rise on his skin as you traced your finger up and down.

smiling to yourself you started drawing hearts on his arm with your finger. heeseung smiled realizing the shape you were drawing on his skin. he let you continue enjoying the moment of closeness with you. he felt at peace seeing his members happy and having you in his arms.

you took your finger and traced out i love you which caused him to pull you into a hug and kiss you. “i love you too.” he said. you giggled and he left kisses all over your face. in the moment it really felt like just the two of you.

“are you two done reminding us we are single?” sunoo asked. you guys started laughing. “sorry.” you blushed. heeseung smirked pulling you into his arms again. which caused the members to playfully groan.

★☆ jay:

he was packing to leave for a few shows. you spent half the day cuddling until he said it was time to pack. you laid on the bed and sadly watched him pack. “baby stop pouting, you’re to pretty to be sad.” you groaned hiding your blush. leave it to jay. he laughed before finally zipping up his suitcase. jay bounced on the bed rolling you up his arms.

“it’s only two days, then i’ll be home.” he said into your neck before leaving kisses. you giggled before pushing him back slightly. “you better hurry home to me.” he nodded. “of course my lady.” that’s how the rest of the night went. cuddles and kisses. you dreaded tomorrow morning.

when jay’s alarm went off you were already awake. jay groaned turing off his alarm. his eyes found yours. “why are you already awake?” he asked knowing you weren’t a morning person. “i wanted to make sure i seen you before you left.” he smiled giving you a kiss.

jay was dressed and ready to walk out the door but stopped hearing you yell for him to wait. you rushed around the corner with a permanent marker in your hand. you gripped his wrist turning the inside towards yourself.

using the marker you drew a small heart on the inside of his wrist. you placed a kiss over the spot. “have fun and be safe i love you.” he kissed you. “i love you too.”

on the plane he ran his finger over the heart and smiled.

★☆ jake:

the two of you were playing a game of guessing what the other was drawing by feel. drawing different shapes and different phrases. the room was full of giggles. jake had just finished drawing a flower on you. “okay okay my turn.” you managed to get through the giggles.

you and jake have only been dating for a few months but you were ready to tell him you loved him. letting out a breath you stood behind him. he giggled. “jake i haven’t even started yet focus!” you laughed. he nodded and stood still.

you traced along his back with your finger. you wrote out i. he giggled “i” he said. you drew a heart. “heart.” he added. his smile was wide. you finished by writing you. “you.” he let out a breath. “i heart you.” he said turning around. you looked up at him. “i heart you.” he repeated.

jake wrapped his arms around your waist. he rested his forehead against yours. “i love you.” he said. you smiled and placed your lips on his. “i love you too.”

★☆ sunghoon:

you and sunghoon were sitting on a blanket in a quiet park. pinterest had given you the idea of a painting date in the park. he was focused on his canvas while you were focused on him. he looked so concentrated. you watched his hand work at making his vision come to life on the canvas.

you dipped your paint brush in your pink paint and painted a heart on his arm. he stopped his actions and stared at you. with a smiled you painted another one. he smiled and used his to paint one on you.

neglecting your canvases the two of you continued to paint small hearts and different designs on each others arms. as the sun started to set the two of you gathered your belongings. taking your hand sunghoon walked with you to the car. you got a few stares for being covered in paint but you didn’t care. you loved sunghoon and loved to show it.

★☆ sunoo:

sunoo and yourself were watching videos when you got an idea. you wiggled out of his arms and ran off. he looked at you funny be returned to the video. when you came back with a marker he raised an eyebrow. “what are you up too?” he asked.

you smiled uncapping the marker. “ i want to draw on you.” he sighed. “why there’s paper.” you groaned. “sunooooo pleaseeeee.” he sighed before pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. “fine, you’re lucky there is no schedules tomorrow.” you squealed before you took his arm.

he rolled his eyes but turned and smiled. while he watched his video you doodled on his arm. after awhile his arm was covered in “i love yous” smiley faces but sunoo’s favorites was the hearts you drew.

his cheekes heated up as he looked at his arm. you capped the marker and looked towards him. “do you like it?” he smiled and kissed your cheek. “love it but i guess i love you more.” you smiled and leaned into him.

★☆ niki:

niki was sleeping when you tip toed into the bedroom. you had a permanent marker and a plan of revenge. a few days ago niki had managed to draw all over you while you slept. you had promised to get him back. today was that day.

he came home from practice, showered and fell asleep. you carefully approached him and uncapped the marker. he shifted slightly but was still fast asleep. you started drawing hearts and “love you” all over him.

the marker must have been tickling him because just as you were about to draw another heart his voice stopped you. “y/n what are you doing?” you gasped and fell back on your butt.

he looked at his arms covered in your doodles and blushed seeing your hearts. “y/n! i have practice tomorrow.” you giggled. “guess you’ll have to shower again.” he didn’t respond he jumped off the bed and you scrambled to your feet as he began chasing you. both of your giggles filled the apartment.

-

author’s note! first enhypen reaction i hope you enjoyed it as much i enjoyed writing it i really love these boys <333

love, Echo🖤

© jjunberry