#I always go so long between digital paintings...

[coryosbaby]

We need part 2 of that sub!coryo pls 😩😩

ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

content warning . Power dynamics, edging, bondage, use of toys (ballgag + vibrator), degradation and praise . Dom! Reader, sub! Coryo

Notes: subcoryosubcoryosubcoryo !!! <333

He comes to you at midnight.

The walk to your apartment from Coriolanus’ own is not far, a mere few blocks over. When he gets there— knocks, greets you like the polite boy he is— he begins to unbutton his shirt. It’s an immediate demand from you, something that he suspected you would want the moment he walked through the door. He slips off his shoes, his suit, his ratty overused shirt. He looks away shyly, as if he’s not one of the most gorgeous men to ever walk the earth. It’s as if every ounce of his ego leaves the moment he enters your room.

He slips his underwear down his legs. Crawls onto your silky expensive sheets. You watch with a pleased smile, peeling off your red slip to bare your body to him. He gulps, his eyes never leaving the spot in between your legs.

You straddle him, just above his knees, not quite touching his cock yet. He bites his lower lip and blushes like a schoolgirl.

“Have you been a good boy?” You ask him, with precision. With calculation. With practice. He nods, and although he’s nervous like always, he grabs your perfectly manicured hand. He brings one of your fingers up to his mouth, suckles it with his soft pink tongue.

“Yes.”

You let him taste your digits for a little while longer, let him get used to this headspace you’ve taught him to embrace so openly. When he pulls the digits out of his mouth, your hands move up to stroke his blonde curls.

“My uncle has been treating your family well, I hope?”

Your uncle is one of the men you referred Coriolanus to, as a reward for letting you use his body for his own pleasure. The boy finds that he may like this situation a lot more than he thought. Your cunt is exquisite, your way of fucking so primal and raw. He’s completely infatuated with it. And the way you treat him, the way you care for him in such a way, makes him forget. Makes him forget his responsibilities, his past, his worries. He can let go when he’s with you, in more ways than one.

With fluttering lashes, he nods. His tongue brushes over his lip as he watches your naked cunt in between your legs.

“Very well.”

“And what do we say, for someone going out of their way to get you that position?”

He playfully lifts the back of your hand up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to it with soft, plush lips.

“Thank you, mistress.”

—

It’s not long before you’ve got the boy tied up. Red rope contrasts against pale white skin as the boy’s wrists twist and turn in the restraints. It was his idea, this bondage technique that leaves him completely helpless, and you know once again that the boy is a lot darker than you anticipated.

He’s got a vibrator pressed to his swollen, aching cock, held to it by an elastic band that’s just a bit too tight around his skin. A blue ballgag sits in between his pretty lips, and it’s caked with drool and spit. You lean down to lick it up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you turn off the vibrator for a third time tonight. Tears pool on the boys crystalline lashes, a small whimper leaving him when you turn the device back on again with the remote in your hand.

“So handsome like this, Coryo,” you praise him, your nails scarping against his bare thigh. “Like a pretty painting. I’d love to keep you here forever.”

Coriolanus wouldn’t mind that, though he’s scared to admit such a thing to you. His hips thrust against the vibrator as you continue speaking to him in that sweet tone.

“You know I want to let you cum. But we need discipline. Don’t we, darling? We need to be patient, to work hard for what we want.”

He nods. He understands perfectly, and you don’t think you’ve ever had a boy in your bed so obedient. It’s not what you originally anticipated, given Coriolanus’ selfishness and greed. But you assume that his need to please has to form somewhere— and you’re so glad that it has formed in your bed.

You’re aroused to no end, watching him struggle. Your fingers move down to rub your swollen clit between your fingers. Coryo’s eyes focus only on that movement.

You can see him getting close again, can see that familiar twitch of his cock right before his release. You turn the toy off again. He cries out, his wrists pulling against the restraints vigorously. He’s like an animal, twitching and moaning. You know that if he somehow releases himself from those ropes that you won’t be able to stop him from fucking his cock into your drenched heat.

He tries to say something through the gag, but you ignore him. If he really needed to tell you something, he would knock on the wood of your headboard. You stick a finger inside yourself, swirling your release around and getting the digit nice and wet. Coriolanus can’t completely part his mouth due to the ballgag, but there is an open space on the sides that gives you access to the inside of it. You stick your finger in that space, rub your wetness on the inside of his cheek. His tongue can’t taste it due to the ballgag pushing it down, and he has no choice but to leave your slick there, untouched.

The tears fall harder now.

It goes on like this, his release being denied again and again while you spread your cunt to him and get him all desperate and hot. The tip of his cock is so red that it’s almost purple.

Until it comes to one point, when the boy can’t seem to take it anymore. His orgasm hits before you can even notice it, and his cum squirts out of his cock in thick, heavy streams. You turn the vibrator off mid orgasm, and he flails helplessly as his high is ruined. He sobs through the gag, begging you to let him cum again, to let him feel you. Your cunt has been neglected for so long that you can’t help but say yes.

You remove the vibrator from him, taking note of the faint line from the band cutting off a bit of circulation. You rub him with your palm to get him all squirmy again, let his cock sit proudly against his stomach for a second time. You straddle his thighs, grabbing his cock from underneath you and positioning it at your entrance. His head tilts back, his breathing uneven and heavy. You sink down onto him with ease.

His cock is so thick, so long, and it fills up your cunt perfectly. Your thighs bounce up and down on him, your wetness leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and the boy can’t do anything but take it. He wants to touch you so badly, to feel your tits that are practically bouncing in his face. But he knows that the feeling of being helpless, of not being able to move, makes the restraints all worthwhile.

Your ass slaps against his thighs as you ride him, the feeling of his heavy balls hitting you making you quiver with arousal.

“So good,” you moan out to him, as you watch his pretty, blushing face. “Oh, coryo. Your mistress is so proud of you.”

He whimpers, and wants to say thank you, but to no avail. You pull him in for a kiss. It’s an odd one, because of his lips being spread apart by the gag, but you do it anyway. You bury your face into his neck and reach down to rub your own clit. Coryo watches with a glazed, fucked out expression. You can feel yourself getting close, your cunt clenching down on him. Coryo desperately tries to hump against your pussy, tries to aid in getting you there, to that special peak that only he can bring you. His thrusts are weak, however; he’s close himself, the overstimulation now giving way to something incredible. He knows he’s going to fill your cunt to the brim.

“Coryo,” you groan out, desperate. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum around your fat cock. Do you want that, sweet boy? Do you want your mistress’ cum?”

He nods, fucking his hips up eagerly, as if to say “give it to me. Give it to me now.”

And you do. That coil in your belly snaps, white hot heat coursing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm. Coryo’s cock kicks at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, and he practically screams as his second orgasm washes over him. Your cunt milks him with everything it has, his warm spend kissing your cervix and leaving you satiated.

When you slow, the boy’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing shallowly. He must be tired, so incredibly tired.

His used, softening cock slips out of your hole when you move off of him. His cum drips sticky strings onto the bedsheets below you, and your filled hole gives you content.

Your fingers gently undo the ropes around Coryo’s wrists. He groans as his sore arms are finally able to relax, his eyes still shut as he moves in and out of a post orgasm sleep. Your hands remove the ballgag, too. You move the objects off the bed and watch as the boy curls up on his side. You find it quite endearing, and you smile.

After you clean up, pee, and find a new pair of pajamas to sleep in, you slip into bed. Coriolanus has never stayed the night before, but there’s always a time for firsts, right?

Soft snores leave his mouth, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. His body turns over, and his head rests gently on your tummy. He sleepily mumbles, something almost incoherent but you understand anyway.

“Thank you, mistress.”

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #sub! Coriolanus snow #sub! Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games tbosas #Tom blyth #dom! reader

[bandgie]

question, what would skz do to make you squeal? what where when how, go all out~

chan!

likes hearing how happy he makes you! doesn't always have to be sexual. maybe he buys you something you've always wanted and you do a little happy squeak omfg makes his heart explode! but sexually? he likes hearing it when he drives his cock real deep in you. feeling your walls twitch and squeeze onto him when his tip is pushing past your cervix. you have to push on his tummy because he's just sooooo deeeepp but he likes hearing you squeak! he can see your swollen lips trying to form words but ugh! all you can do is mewl and squeal :(

minho!

grabs your butt outta no where to hear you chirp. sometimes it's in the comfort of your own home but most of the time it's in public. all you do is give him the 'did u just really do that here?' look and he's just smirking at back you like 'fuck yeah I did' in the bedroom I think it's pretty similar! but he's a lot more rough. his soft hand feels not-so-soft on your ass when he smacks it from behind. the force makes you lurch forward, gripping the pillow under you to muffle your squeals. and sometimes!! if he's eating you out from behind, he'll spread your cheeks to lick up your ass and watch your feet kick all cute

changbin!

anything! bin would do anything to hear you make little happy sounds. like chan, it just makes his heart melt and he's got that cute little smile when you're just so happy that you squeal but by far, eating you out while you make those cute noises are the best. there's just something about being buried between your legs with your fingers in his curls while you mewl and squeal that's just beautiful. honestly, changbin would be the one squealing the most (in and out of the bedroom) so he makes those sounds with you in your cunt tbh

hyunjin!

my lover boy! his fav is when he makes something for you or maybe he's just showing you his latest work in progress and you clap your hands and squeal cuz he's just so talented. really gives him motivation. not only are you his motivation but his muse. he loves painting your body in different ways: clothed, nude, standing, sitting, with your legs open. I've written before how hyunjin loves painting your pussy and I stand by that!! it's only natural that you squeal from embarrassment from the poses he puts you in, but he has a vision! he likes to paint the flush on your cheeks and the pinkness of your pussy, ugh defo fucks it when he's done BUT the whole process of drawing you while you whine about how shy you are is the best

han!

him making you squeal? it should be the other way around but I do think he likes hearing you make those cute little noises when he makes them too! it happens when you're both super desperate to fuck, like maybe you've been teasing each other all day or he's been on tour for a while and when you two get together it's just bunnies fucking BUTBUTBUTBUT let me say just say...sex pills. no idea the actual word for it but it's those pills/foods that get you super horny and makes you all sensitive. those are hannie's fav when ya'll are fucking. everything is wetter, hotter, softer, just so much more. han always fucks you good but with those pills? it's like you're constantly creaming on his cock with every thrust of his hips. at some point, neither of you can form proper words and you just end up whining and squealing into each other's mouths.

felix!

there's just something about fingering you while being able to watch your face contort into pleasure that does it for felix. his fingers aren't super long, but it's all about the motion of the ocean. he's really good at getting you to cum on his digits really fast and keep going. his wrist is drenched with your cum and your pussy keeps leaking that white cream, but he shows no signs of stopping. steady pumping into you in a way that makes you raise your heels off the floor and bury yourself deeper into the couch. he's kissing you, obvi. lixie can't let just his fingers get all the attention, but it is difficult to properly suck on your tongue since you keep moaning and squealing.

seungmin!

I am on my dom!seungmin agenda because I just know he likes hearing you squeak and squeal when he's fucking you real hard. kinnddd of like chan in that he buries himself in you, but unlike chan in that seungmin will keep thrusting into you. it feels like you can hardly catch your breath with how hard and deep he's pounding into you, but you like how dizzy it makes you feel. flat on your stomach while he drives his cock in and out of your swollen pussy to a point that you can't moan and you just squeal like you're out of breath. mhm, he likes that. esp when he flips you around and surprises you with cleaning his cock from your cum.... yeah

jeongin!

give this man some head! throat fucking you is the absolute best (and his favorite) way to get you to squeal! on your back with your head hanging off the bed, on your knees, 69ing, he doesn't care! innie can't really hear you squealing when you're too busy choking on his dick, but he can hear you gag, the wet noises your mouth makes, the sound of your throat when his tip touches the back. those are all good yes but it's when you pull away from his cock to catch your breath that makes him groan. hearing you pant, whimper, and moan from his cock like he's fucking your pussy instead is heaven to this man. will guide your pretty mouth back to his cock by grabbing the back of your head. tapping his tip on your red lips to watch you loll your tongue out and lick it. and when he pushes past your mouth? hearing that squeal from him burying his cock as deep as your throat will let him makes your teary eyes worth it

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz changbin #skz seungmin #skz hyunjin #skz bang chan #skz jeongin #skz felix smut #poly!skz #bangchan smut #skz minho #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #lee felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut

[mattsenthusiast]

Matt Sturniolo NSFW abc

Warnings: smut obviously, and the rest is a surprise🤭 enjoy!!!

a- aftercare (how are they like after sex?)

(Dom!Matt) He definitely is the sweetest when it comes to asking whether you’re alright, even though I feel like he would be extremely sleepy afterwards. You’d both be cuddled into each other, his hands stroking your back, just enjoying your presence.

(Sub!Matt) He’s in complete sex bliss for the rest of the night and you are not getting him out of bed. When you’d want to get up to bring him some water, etc. he’d just pull you into him and not let you go. Extremely clingy and needs you by his side.

b- body part (what’s their favorite body part of yours? + favorite part of their own body?)

He’s a big boobs guy, come on, but to be honest, he loves everything that he can squeeze: your thighs, hips or even stomach. He just loves to feel the soft skin and watch it bounce.

(Dom!Matt) He loves his hands, mostly because you always tell him how attractive they are. They’re always looking nice, his nails painted and multiple rings resting around his long fingers. His favorite thing is putting two of his digits into your mouth and makes you suck on them.

(Sub!Matt) His eyes 100%. You always tell him how pretty he looks under you with those puppy eyes of his while you make a mess out of him. He loves when you force him to keep eye contact with you.

c- cum (anything to do with cum.)

(Dom!Matt) Matt the munch, what can I say. He would make you cum multiple times with his tongue until you’re begging him to stop. It’s always ,,one more time” but in reality, it leads to him spending at least another half an hour in between your thighs.

(Sub!Matt) After you overstimulate him with three orgasm in a row and his stomach is painted with loads of his cum, he loves when you dip your fingers into it and bring them to your or his mouth. Especially if you kiss him right after that.

d- dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

(Dom!Matt) He’s absolutely obsessed with your perfume and your scent just makes him super turned on. When you’re having sex, he’d be glued to your neck just to smell it. In public, he’d always have his head on your shoulder and his hand is either covering or rubbing his bulge.

(Sub!Matt) Loves having absolute no control over anything and just have you take care of him. You can tie him up and use one of your vibrators on his tip and he’d be the happiest man alive.

e- experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, he could have maximum one body, but I really think that he was a virgin. He knows what he’s doing though and even if he doesn’t then he’s a fast learner. This man reads smut literally argue with a wall his head is full of filthy ways to pleasure both of you.

f- favorite position (what is their favorite position?)

He loves to see your face when you two fuck, so missionary. His second favorite is cowgirl, because he can see your boobs bounce with each thrust.

g- goofy (are they serious during sex? etc.)

I don’t think he’s really goofy unless something goes not according to plan and you both laugh to make the mood lighter and for the other to not feel embarrassed.

h- hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s not fully shaved but definitely well trimmed, doesn’t really feel comfortable and ,,bare” if he got nothing there. When it comes to you, he couldn’t care less.

i- intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect?)

(Dom!Matt) This man would worship the shit out of you. Even if you’re having rough sex, he’d always make sure you know that he thinks you’re the most perfect thing in the world and would leave marks everywhere on your body.

(Sub!Matt) He loves when you go rough on him no matter if it’s scratching his back or overstimulation, count him the fuck up. He needs to be sure that he’s doing a good job, so you have to make sure to whisper prises every two sentences.

j- jack off (masturbation headcannon)

He doesn’t have a lot of time during the day, so he’d rather just have sex with you durning the night. But when you two are away from each other, he would either masturbate to your pictures or call you and have phone sex.

k- kink (what kink or kinks do they have?)

(Dom!Matt) I feel like he’d love to make pictures/ videos of you while you guys fuck. He came on your titts? He takes a picture. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head while you moan his name? He makes a video. Just anything to do with capturing the moment.

(Sub!Matt) Bondage and just having no control over anything that’s going on. You teasing him while he can do nothing but whine and beg for you to touch him, turns him on to an impossible level. He also swears that he could cum just from watching you tie his hands up with that beautiful red rope of yours.

Also a good roleplay will really do it for him.

l- location (where is their favorite place to do it?)

He needs to take his time and have all of the necessities next to him, so his or your bedroom. I feel like he’s just the most comfortable there. Doesn’t mind doing it in the car or other places once in a while but mostly likes to keep it in the bed.

m- motivations (what turns when on during sex?)

(Dom!Matt) Your moans. That’s all that needs to be said, this man is a sucker for your noises. The fact that he’s the only one making you feel like this is giving him satisfaction and encouragement to make you feel the best he can.

(Sub!Matt) Actually you humiliating him, making him cum in his pants, or calling him a needy slut really gets him going. He doesn’t know why he’s so worked up by you seeing him as desperate but, he just is.

n- no (what’s off limits when it comes to sex?)

There’s not much that he wouldn’t do, but I think he would rather not participate in a heavy breath play. It’s because of his anxiety, but the idea of you having your hand around his throat is still hot to him. He doesn’t mind performing it on you though, unless you also have anxiety (same bitch) then if you state it to him, he will only lightly decorate your neck with his hand and make sure that you’re okay.

o- oral (do they prefer receiving or giving, etc?)

He can eat pussy day and night, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Absolutely loves being buried in between your plushy thighs and just taste you. He also loves when you sit on his face. But definitely wouldn’t turn down a good blow job offer if you gave him one. I feel like he has an oral fixation, and just loves to suck your fingers, boobs, etc.

p- pace (are they fast and rough/soft and sensual?)

(Dom!Matt) If he knows that you don’t have a limited time, he goes slow but hard, hitting your deepest spots with each thrust. Unless he’s really desperate because you’ve been teasing him, then the first round will definitely be rough and fast.

(Sub!Matt) He’s a sucker for when you ride him at a fast peace. The image of him disappearing inside of you in such speed, just does it for him. Also because your titts bounce, but it’s already obvious.

q- quickies (what are their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a big fan of them, he needs to take his time and have the foreplay and aftercare. But if you insist on one, then he’ll take you to the nearest bathroom and still make you feel good (or sneak a hand in your underwear under the table ;))

r- risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

OH HE SO TAKES THE RISK. He’s not the type of man to turn down a challenge after all. He’s willing to try almost everything at least once. Even if either one of you doesn’t enjoy something that much, he’s still glad to have experienced that. You guys also really trust yourself, so if one of you is severely uncomfortable, you can always use a safe word.

s- stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

(Dom!Matt) I think it’s usually one or two, maximum three, but it’s rare. That’s because each round is long and sensual so there’s no need for you go for thirty rounds. If he takes breaks while thrusting into you, then I think he can last up to an hour. However, if there’s no breaks, then it’s not more than 20 minutes on a good day.

(Sub!Matt) SUCKER for when you overstimulate him. Loves when you make him count his orgasm, and his record is 8 in one night. He will beg you to stop, but deep down knows, that he needs more and not use the safe word.

t- toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

(Dom!Matt) He keeps some toys in his room for when you have sex in there, but only uses them on you. Not often though, because he likes to do the work himself but putting it to your clit, while he eats you out is not unusual. He also fucks you with a toy instead of his dick if you’re disobeying him.

(Sub!Matt) Owns at least one vibrator and loves when you put it to his tip. He also has a fleshligh, let’s face it😭 doesn’t use it often since you guys started dating though.

u- unfair (how much they like to tease?)

(Dom!Matt) When you guys are out on a dinner, he’s THE WORST, putting his hand up your skirt, adjusting himself so you can see the outline of his hard dick, and ,,accidentally” rubbing against you whenever you two are close. Loves to tease you.

(Sub!Matt) Constantly catches breaths in his throat when you brush your hand against his dick when you’re out. Makes you sit on his lap to hide the fact that he’s hard, but it only makes it worse, because feeling your ass rubbing on him usually ends in him making a mess in his underwear.

v- volume (how loud are they during sex? what sounds do they make etc.)

Oh he’s loud as fuck. Not scared to let his sounds get to your head and let you know how good he feels. He’s mostly a moaner and whimperer, especially while being submissive, but also whispers long trails of curses all the time.

w- wildcard (a random head cannon)

One time you dressed up in a cop uniform and pretended to arrest him. You bent him over the table and forced his hands behind his back to cuff them in your shackles. Turns out he has a uniform kink and was having the time of his life when you rode him with the tight blue shirt halfway unbuttoned and the metal around his wrists.

x- x-ray (what’s going on under their clothes?)

He’s big, and I mean BIG when I say that. He’s probably around 7-8 inches, with a good girth. There’s also a vein on the left side of his dick.

y- yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s not a horny horse that can’t keep it in his pants all the time. He often gets turned on when you’re next to him, even if you’re not exactly doing anything sexual, but if he has to, he can keep it to himself and just spend a sweet time with you.

z- zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

(Dom!Matt) He needs to make sure that you’re comfortable and taken care of first. But after the aftercare, when he lays down next to you and you two cuddle, he passes out in an instance.

(Sub!Matt) Basically sleeping right after you are done with him. When you ask him if he needs anything, he just mumbles something under his breath and sticks his arms out for you to come and hug him.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #smut #Spotify

[euseokz]

@ eunseok — i always know how much you need me baby, so i give you just enough to not leave you hanging . cws : dry-humping . use of nicknames (good girl) . finger sucking . wc : 0.7k+ . genre : smut 

FWB! EUNSEOK who has been teasing you all day, sending nasty texts and leaving you all hot and bothered on purpose, but who is surprised when he gets to your apartment at night and finds you on your bed with nothing but your underwear on, one of your hands already sneaking under your panties. 

“are you that needy already?” he asks almost playfully, with a teasing tone, his usual smirk painted on his lips. you don’t reply, simply whining and pressing your fingers over your clit harder, too horny to have the usual back and forth you two share. “i’ll take that as a yes” eunseok adds right after.

he walks to you and plants his hands on your body, pulling your wrist out from your panties and guiding you to straddle him while he sits on your bed. he looks at your digits that had been down your panties seconds prior, how they’re shiny with your arousal, strings of your slick connecting them. eunseok has to hold back a grunt, instead guiding them to his mouth, sucking on your fingers and tasting you while looking directly into your eyes, humming when you whine surprised. he lets go not too long after, planting his hands on your hips and pulling you to him, pushing you down against his bulge, his loose pants doing nothing to hide the obvious tent. it looked painful almost, even through his clothes, his dick twitching and a grunt finally leaving him when he feels your soaked panties press against him, eyes now focused there.

“i want you to cum against me like this, can you do that?” eunseok asks, voice sultry, his words coming as more of a request than a demand. when you nod, biting your bottom lip while already moving yourself ever so slightly against his covered cock, eunseok groans again, smiling before saying a simple “good girl”.

you move your hips slowly, pressing down just enough for him to feel how your folds part around his bulge, only leaving your panties wetter, a dark patch eventually staining eunseok's pants too. you're soaked, and incredibly needy, humping against him at a fastening pace, moaning and whining about how good it feels, your hands landing on eunseok's shoulders as your nails dig into them, bunching up the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and pressing down harshly against his skin. eunseok can feel the warmth of your pussy, his bottoms thin enough that he even feels how your clit twitches almost in sync with his dick. he guides his hands to your hips and grips them hard, deciding to now set the pace, moving you faster while pressing you more roughly against himself. you allow it without complaining, moaning his name and digging your nails deeper into his skin, pleasure blooming between your legs, a hot wave taking over your middle.

lust clouds your brain as your eyelids feel heavy and fall close, your head resting back and giving eunseok perfect access to kiss and suck on your neck, making you wonder if that was what heaven felt like. your orgasm was close, each stroke of your covered cunt against eunseok’s prominent bulge only driving you closer to the edge — the man under you not finding himself in a much better state, his mind flooded with nasty thoughts as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive skin of your throat, feeling as his cock twitched, his teeth sinking into you and a guttural grunt escaped him when he came, milky cum dampening his underwear, his orgasm only an excuse for eunseok to move you faster against himself, his nails now digging into your sides as he guided you, making you reach your peak sooner than later, a silent moan leaving you as your mouth fell open when your high finally hit you, crashing into you hard.

eunseok started slowing down the pace until you were barely moving your hips against his, finally pulling back to look at you, moving to cup your cheeks, his eyes hooded and glossy with arousal as he spoke.

“see? i’m always good to you baby, always give you enough to leave you an absolute mess without even needing to push my cock into you”

#! . . 📝 #eunseok #song eunseok #riize eunseok #eunseok smut #song eunseok smut #riize eunseok smut #riize #riize smut #eunseok imagines #eunseok drabbles #eunseok scenarios #eunseok fic #eunseok fanfic #eunseok x reader #eunseok x you #song eunseok imagines #song eunseok x reader #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize scenarios #riize fics #riize fanfic #riize x reader #riize x you #riize x y/n #riize x imagine #eunseok hard hours #eunseok hard thoughts #riize hard hours

[coeurify]

i cant find this req for some reason but here is a ss i took of it.. enjoy ! 18+

Abby was the best roommate. Really. She was kind, always cleaned up after herself, was respectful, and just so quiet.

Abby would likely say the same thing about you, a slight grin on her face as she spoke to one of her friends about how lucky she had gotten with you, and how her friend agreeing to move in with her had been just an oh so perfect decision. How sweet and lovely you were to live with. Her pink lips wet as her tongue licked over them, quieter confessions about how attractive she found you usually followed. Not that she would ever admit that to you, however.

Nor would you divulge the information of just how many times you had shoved your face into a friend’s pillow as you rattled on about how good Abby looked when she came home from the gym, how badly you wanted to be the one she was always leaving the apartment to go see.

Neither of you minded the soft touches when you passed each other, the quiet breaths on your shared couch that always came when one of you pressed a little too close during movie night. In fact, Abby would even go out on a thin tree limb to say you both enjoyed toeing the line between platonic roommate activity and something more.

Most everything about this living situation was just perfect. Except for a tiny problem.

The painted white walls always held a certain hum to them. Whether it be music you tried your best to keep low.. or Abby watching a movie. It always sunk between the foundation between your rooms, echoing the covered walls in a way that had become clear very soon into moving in with your friend. The walls were so incredibly thin, but you thought you had adapted.

Abby always disappeared into her room early most nights, unless you asked otherwise. By midnight on most days, the walls fell utterly silent, aside from a few creaks of Abby’s bed. The night had become your saving grace, the only time you didn’t have to worry about your roommate hearing anything.

Usually.. she didn’t. Tonight, however, the story was completely different.

It didn’t really matter how you had ended up here. Maybe Abby came home with a little extra confidence after the gym today, smiling and leaning over you at the table, questioning what book you had your nose dug into, large arm on full display for you. Maybe Abby sat a little too close during the movie you watched, and stared at you a little too hard during certain scenes.

By this point, you couldn’t even remember what had gotten you to this current place. Your door cracked open, letting in the breeze that came from the air conditioner in the living room, the only solace to your sticky hot skin. Your thighs draped lazily around your favorite pillow, clenching around the soft pink cloth as you ground down into it. The pretty black lace of your panties acting as an added friction for your heated core as you moved your hips against the material. Your mouth gaped open, panting as you let out the softest moans you could muster, sweat shining in the furrowed space between your brows.

On any other day, you would have gone undetected. But tonight, of all nights, Abby found herself in a long battle with sleep.

She had tried every method known to mankind to rest, the early morning ahead a perfect candidate for why she should be squeezing her eyes closed the moment the clock on her bedside flashed the numbers “2:35 am” on the digital screen.

But now? Now Abby was thankful for three things, despite this sleepless frustration.

One, she was happy she wasn’t tired suddenly. Two, she was so fucking delighted the walls of this apartment were thin. And three? Abby was just purely ecstatic that you didn’t know at all how to keep quiet.

Abby tried to be a kind roommate at first. She pressed further away from the wall when she heard the first few soft grunts on the other side of the wall. Hell, Abby even put on headphones and began scrolling through her playlists to find a good set of songs so she didn’t invade your privacy like that.

But the moment she found her finger hovering over the blue-lit screen to begin a song, she heard it.

The softest, whiny calling of her name she had ever heard. It rang straight through the white paint, right over the posters plastered there, and settled sweetly in her ear.

You were moaning her name.

Though she couldn’t see it, her imagination could only assume what you may be doing. What her sweet roommate was doing to herself thinking of her.

If she could see it, your quivering lip, open and panting Abby’s name, again, Abby may have died on the spot. If the blonde could bear witness to the wet spot that dripped through the fabric of your panties and onto the plush pillow... Well, she would have taken you right there.

All Abby had, however, was her imagination, just as you did. Though neither knew the fantasies that plagued both of your minds muddled together just a bit too much.

“Abby,” you whine into the quiet air, a mouth full of saliva— causing another choked sound as you swallow it down, hips pressing further into your pillow. You imagined it was her hands on your hips, leading all of your rushed and messy movements against the fabric.

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to paint the picture of the pillow being the blonde’s thigh, that your trembling hands were actually gripping the flesh of Abby’s shoulders as she urged you to keep going. You could almost pick out her tone of voice perfectly, a tape om loop in your mind of her urging you to keep going, ‘c’mon sweetheart... there you go, angel,’ she would whisper against you, lips pressing to your skin just so softly. If you held your breath long enough, you could almost hear it.

Abby, on the other side of the wall, did her very best not to stand straight up out of bed and let her feet find your door. This proved itself a difficult request for both her mind and body when your sounds sped up, growing louder and louder against her very honed in eardrums.

The blonde rubbed her eyes, hands aching to grab something very different. Maybe the fat of your thigh as she pressed them open, leaving you all out in the open for her to admire. Maybe the palm of her hand slapped over your mouth as she pulled you closer to her, humming near your cheek that you needed to, ‘Be quiet for me, doll. You know how thin these walls are, don’t want our neighbors to hear, right?’ She even imagined them pressed impossibly far between your legs, fingers so deep into your aching cunt that one curl would have you gushing around her digits.

Though that night, neither of your nighttime fantasies came to fruition. You had climbed off your poor pillow one mindblowing orgasm later, thighs shaking as you made quick work of cleaning your mess.

Abby stayed silent as possible until you fell asleep, and dug her own hands down into her pants— someone, and some noises specifically in mind.

(random cut off sorry uhh p2?)

#rins reqs ❀. #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #roommate!abby anderson

[lunarpeonie]

stay the night

in which you babysit megumi some nights and toji is sick of you showing up in those tight little shorts

1.3k words, nsfw

“Good evening, Mr. Fushiguro. I just put Megumi down.” You whispered as you held up the baby monitor. Toji hadn’t had one when you first started working for him and had purchased it at your insistence. You had been babysitting for the Fushiguro’s now for a few months, showing up whenever Toji had called. It wasn’t a regular thing, Toji had told you his job was a freelancer (whatever that meant) and his work wasn’t regular. Still, he paid decently and Megumi was a doll of a child, always so sweet and eager to have someone to babble to.

It also didn’t hurt that Toji was an absolute dilf. He had a perfectly placed scar on the corner of his lips that you wanted to paint pink with your lipstick. He towered over you and always had on shirts seemingly two sizes too small that outlined his hard abs and broad shoulders. You were waiting for him to lift his arm one day and have his shirt split down the middle. Long story short, you wanted him.

“Thanks.” He said digging in his pants pocket for his wallet to pay you for the night. He was never very talkative, especially so after he was done work. You had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t just with you. You turned around to grab your purse on the couch, not realizing how far your yoga shorts had ridden up. They had moved so far that now your peach colored panties were peeking out underneath.

You heard a faint rustling of clothing before feeling a large, calloused hand grip your waist. You stiffened in surprise and quickly turned your head to look at the man behind you. His hand traveled up in between the valley of your breasts and he tugged you so that your back was flush with his chest. His extremely muscular chest. You could already feel your face heating up.

Toji leaned his head next to your ear to whisper. “You didn’t have to wear those tiny shorts for my attention, you already have it. Do you know how hard it’s been to hold back all of this time? My self control has worn out.” It wasn’t as if you wore those shorts on purpose for this exact outcome… or that was what you told yourself to feel better about the fact that you desperately wanted the single father with an ambiguous job who always came home late.

“If you want to stop, say so now because once I get started, it’s too late.” He groaned into your ear. You shook your head vigorously no, unable to muster up the words to speak. He slots his lips against yours, swallowing your mewls of excitement. Toji nipped at your lower lip, inviting you to open for him. When you did, he slipped his tongue past your parted lips dominating your own.

“I’m gonna stuff you full,” he groaned, kissing up the side of your neck before pushing you hard onto the weathered sofa.

“I can barely wait to come home to my pretty little cockslut waiting for me.” His voice was teasing, one of his hands dipping under the waistband of your shorts, slowly working its way down and pulling both your shorts and underwear down with it.

“Taking care of my kid all day, waiting for me to come home and give you your reward.” He dipped two calloused fingers into your heat and groaned. “How are you so wet already?” He started off slow, but with your encouraging mewls, he began to aggressively scissor his digits in and out of your hole.

“Ah, Toji…” you trailed off as he lifted his fingers out of you, a trail of your essence following them. He guided his fingers to his awaiting mouth, scar stretching to open wide. Sucking hard on his two digits, he slid them slowly from his mouth and let go of them with a pop.

“I would play more but…” he trailed off, but you knew what he was thinking. You couldn’t waste time when you had a toddler down the hall that could wake up any moment. You feverishly unbuttoned the jeans clinging tight to his thighs and pulled down, gasping at the outline of his cock in his silky black boxers. You palmed the large bulge with your hand, feeling the pulsating veins even through the thin layer of fabric. It twitched as you began to run your hand up and down the clothed erection. Toji wasted no time in revealing it to you and let his boxers pool at his ankles before kicking them away. He was long and thick with a nest of black hair resting at the base of him. The curtains do match the drapes.

“Oh my god.” You whispered, but not quiet enough for it to escape Toji’s notice. He shot you a devilish grin before pushing you so your back laid on the faux leather couch.

“Next time, I’ll take my time on you. Maybe shove my face between those thighs and lick your pretty pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” All you could do was vigorously nod your head in response, excessively aware of the fact that Toji had moved the head of his cock so that it was poking at your entrance.

“But what about…ah!” You started, trying to warn Toji that you hadn’t used any protection, but he was already plowing through your wet heat. You tried to quiet your mewls, but couldn’t hold them in as he thrust deep within you. Toji shushed you and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“You’re so whiny. You’re gonna wake the kid.” You can feel his grin against your skin while he says it, not seeming at all worried about the possibility. In fact, he seemed pleased with himself.

He lifted your leg, folding it against your chest and angled his hips up. You choked back a moan as he hit your g-spot. Toji picked up the pace, thrusting fast and hard into your heat. He felt himself lose all control in the wet, gummy paradise between your thighs. Each thrust felt like he went deeper within you, carving out a space for himself within you. He slid a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing tight circles until you started to feel a familiar tension within your stomach.

“Ah, Toji I’m -“ You whimpered.

“You gonna come for me? Good.” You bit down on your lower lip to try to quiet your noises of pleasure, but he still slaps his hand across your mouth to muffle the noises you couldn’t contain. Finally, the tension snapped like a rubber band and your body flooded with release. He pushed his forehead against yours as he fucked you through your orgasm with deep thrusts that had you nearly shaking with overstimulation.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He hissed, leaning so your foreheads were touching. “I’m not pulling out. You’d be such a good mother, wouldn’t you? You take such good care of my son, maybe I’ll give you one of your own.” Your eyes shot wide open in alarm, shocked that you liked the idea so much. You chanted yes, yes, yes, as you felt him groan and shoot his load deep inside of you. He stayed there for a moment, before slowly pulling his cock all of the way out and pushing his cum back in you. Toji rolls to lay his back on the sofa, grabbing your body and placing you on top of him.

“You’ll have to stay the night. I’m not done with you yet.” He grinned. Somehow, you were completely fine with that. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

#toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[thatlittleegyptologist]

apologies if this has already been asked, did ancient west africans have any relations or connection to ancient egypt?

Not really

In the pre-dynastic period, when the Sahara was much smaller, and parts of it were more savannah like, the Egyptians seem to have ventured further west than they did at any other time, as we have evidence of them at the Gilf Kebir plateau which borders Libya. There are two caves; known as the Cave of Beasts and the Cave of Swimmers. Both of these caves are extremely old, with the Cave of Swimmers being 8000-10,000 years old (c.6000-8000 BCE), and the Cave of Beasts being about 7000-8000 years old (c.5000-6000 BCE). Around 6000 years ago (c.4000 BCE) you have the Holocene Climatic Optimum (HCP), which caused a change in climate and the Sahara to began to form thus pushing people out of the area one way or another. I mention all this because the key problem with the Egyptians interacting with civilisations in West Africa after this point, is the big desert that's in between them. Clearly before this point there are people in the Saharan area, but they're not belonging to any one civilisation as those have yet to form. These are just groups of people, nomadic or stationary, living their lives in the area. Those already living in Egypt along the Nile at this time, share a common material culture, which is not present elsewhere. These are the pre-dynastic cultures of Egypt known as the Naqada period.

After the HCP, we start to see the advent of agriculture and civilisations like the Mesopotamians and the Egyptians begin to form (c.4000 BCE). The Sahara wasn't so arid that routes could not be traversed at this time, so it's possible that there was still some contact with groups or civilisations in Western Africa, but it would have been extremely difficult and things like long distance trade wouldn't have been required just yet. The chance of sustained contact is minimal, and we have no evidence to prove they did either, as far as I'm aware. By 2500 BCE, or around the time the Great Pyramid at Giza was completed, the Sahara is no longer passable due to the arid conditions. The chances of contact after this point are incredibly small. I'm not saying impossible, but when the Egyptians list the people they are in contact with it's always those to the North East (Hittites, Hyksos, Mittani) or the South (Punt and Nubia/Kush - modern day Sudan). They are in contact with the Themehu, who come from Libya, but that's as far West as they mention their contacts.

As far as they depict their contacts, we have this from the tomb of Seti I, which is from a text known as the Book of Gates:

This is a reconstruction since the original is badly damaged, from left to right we have depictions of: A Libyan, a Nubian (Sudan), an Aamu (Levantine), and an Egyptian. Here's part of the scene as seen in the tomb (bottom register where the damage is):

And another part, which you can see is connected to the part above. I'd argue with the facsimile that the Aamu are a little darker in appearance than whoever painted that made them, but still:

And the bit that goes around the corner, again on the bottom register/line you can see the Aamu (Levantine) folks:

Sorry I can't get better photos of them, but I'd physically have to go to Egypt and take them myself at this point. But you can see how the Egyptians are listing and depicting those they are in contact with on a regular basis and there are no Western African civilisations mentioned at all.

N.B. I've actually taken these images from the Theban Mapping Project, which if you've ever wanted to see photos from inside the tombs in the Valley of the Kings, it's a great resource:

[chrollohearttags]

being the girlfriend of a rapper had its perks and for so many reasons…like the obvious of being thrust into the limelight, the notoriety of being the infamous eren jaeger’s arm candy or even fully funded shopping trips and island getaways at your disposal. But the one they never told you about was the alternate use of that expensive jewelry he always wore.

y’know, the obligatory custom chains, buss downs and Cuban link necklaces that almost every artist in the industry had. They were gorgeous and he even copped you your own to match his fly..but your favorite? the set of glistening gold grills, wrapped around the bottom row of his pearly whites…

sitting pretty between his pouty, pink lips, decorated with diamonds and twenty four karats, you’d catch faint glints of them shining from below as his head was sandwiched between those thick thighs; the band of his gleaming AP resting against your skin as he cradles his arms underneath you.

long acrylics strung through the wefts of his long brown hair, keeping his head steady as you drag that plump pussy all over his open mouth. “oooh, mmphm..right there, baby. Yesss..”

crying out in a fit of bliss, your neck rolled backward onto the ‘R’ inscribed headrest from the front seat of his Wraith. Your legs spread to their max as they draped across the door and seat. YSL heels and a two thousand dollar tennis anklet dangling by his ear serving as motivators to keep going…

to keep dragging that wide tongue across your folds and lapping up the constant flow of cream, colliding with the VVS’ scattered around his teeth. Every suction, slurp and sip more intense than the last but it’s not as if you could stop him!

“…quit playing and lemme have it, mama..you taste so good f’ me.”

after all, it’s his favorite treat and you’d never deny him the pleasure of making you nut in his mouth…not when he looks so fucking sexy doing it. knowing it drives you crazy when he flicks it across your swollen clit, smirk on his face and the diamond studded fangs peak out of the corner.

a greedy lover as he is a passionate one, a straight eater and he doesn’t come up until he feels compelled. Even when you’ve painted the bottom half of his features with sweet slick…damn near detached those pretty chocolate locks from his scalp and even stained his grills with all of your cum.

he can’t help himself from meeting that mound and fat lips with more sloppy kisses, making all types of sounds while doing so. while you’re gazing at the stars plastered on the ceiling, you feel yourself become full with his fingers and the one or two tears streaming down your face from the immense pleasure multiply.

“my baby wants to come, I can feel it..are you gonna give it to me..?” questioning so sweetly and rhetorically, almost in a cooing like tone that gets you every time. you meet the gaze of his gorgeous green eyes as he bobs his head up and down, still pumping those digits inside that needy hole..knowing you won’t last much longer anyways. so he continues talking you through that inevitable orgasm, watching your legs tremble uncontrollably in the process.

“hnngh! Fuck…”

pushing yourself further to the hilt on his fingers and riding that pretty face, (y/n) can’t hold it in another second. “That’s right, baby..squirt f’r me, put it in my fucking face..” demanding as he snatches those digits away and replaces it with his mouth; wide open and ready to revive his reward. letting go of all those sweet juices and allowing him to lap them up like a puppy from a water bowl. cackling as he watches you come undone right there.

once he finishes slurping up any remnants, he leans up and brings a finger underneath your chin to level your now light head. it’s when the two of you meet for a kiss do you feel the chilled metal of his mouthpiece and taste your own sweet flavor as well. he can’t get enough of it..

and every time he flashes those slugs, you can’t help but to think about the next time you get to wet them up.

#black fem reader #black fanfic writer #smut fanfiction #anime #eren imagines #black reader smut #aot x black reader #black reader #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan smut #aot au #aot smut #musician au

[wildbluesorbit]

Wounded III || JTK

18+mdni

paring: jakexreader(f)

LONDON MASTERLIST

A/N: alrighty, here’s the final piece. All your words have made my first fic/series so fun and I can’t wait to give yall more:)) pretty please let me know what you think <3

Summary || You promised Jake an evening out, but you’re not certain if you can make through the night.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcoholic consumption, anger, verbal aggression, adult themes, agoraphobia, haphepobia, graphic sexual depictions

Word Count || 9.5k+

The light knock at your door sends you into a frantic spell before anyone can announce themselves and their business that miserably requires access to you and your sanctuary.

You had been doing your best to go about your routine the past few days and not dwell on the daunting date you assured Jake. You had always given him your ifs and maybes when it came to going out, but this pledged appearance was taxing your every thought.

Routine. Keep your head in routine. Just keep moving. One day at a time and all that compartmentalizing bullshit your therapists always vomit at you yet never proves useful.

The truth being no matter how you avert your attention, the dreaded moment would still come to pass. And alas, it does; arriving in the form of Jake poking his head through the door. You invite the rest of his body to join your room.

With an easy energy, Jake percolates through the doorway dressed in his signature all black deep-v button up and pleated trousers. Paired with his signature chain of doubloons and black loafers. You always find the consistency of his formulaic ensembles to be a comfort.

In the true spirit of procrastination and denial you hadn’t even conceptualized an outfit yet.

Jake instinctively gravitates towards the guitar in the corner of your room and begins to fidget with the strings, busying himself from your bed as he watches you get ready. You think maybe he fears you are going to talk yourself out of the evening or it might not come to pass if he doesn’t witness it with his own eyes.

You frantically scatter for the first outfit you can make out, dressing in a relaxed cream button blouse with mom jeans and platform oxfords. You paint your features with natural make up and throw your curls in two messy braids and lightly accessorize. You emerge back from your bathroom expecting to make out a bored Jake. Instead, you’re greeted by an empty bedroom.

You are sure you hadn’t taken too long to get ready. You simply shrug and stomp to the full body mirror. You appear just fine, yet you definitely do not feel it.

You run your sweaty hands down your jeans as Jake reappears through the door. In his hands, he clutches his navy corduroy jacket he went to retrieve. You are clueless as to what you have done in your life to deserve this man that always anticipates your next need before you do.

Jake streams across the floor towards you and unfolds the coat, lifting it in the air for you to slip your arm through. You face away from the doting man and extend your hand out as he attentively dresses you in his jacket one shoulder at a time, savoring the moment. His aroma emits from the material as you take a deep breath and tug the sleeves over your fingertips.

Glancing back in the mirror you already feel a bit better; that’s what your outfit had been missing.

You return your eyes to Jake, slinking your hands deep into the pockets of the coat as he tugs on the lapel, properly adjusting it over your shoulders; unaware of your shaking till he steadies you with the weight of his hands.

His digits travel to faintly twist the tail of one of your braids between the pads of his fingers as a smile breaks loose at the sight of you.

“You are truly a vision,” Jake’s honey eyes swivel as he indulges in every detail he can canvass, his words adorn you better than any accessory ever could, “Ready?”

You force a weak nod and dreadfully follow his giddy lead from out your bedroom, down the stairs, and towards the front door.

Of course, you freeze where you always do but this time Jake just smiles and swings the entryway wide open, sauntering out to wait for you on the other side of the threshold.

“You’re ready, I can see it,” his lips curl as he beckons you with his giant smile.

You raise an eyebrow at him from the safety of the inside, “How do you know?”

“Because in just these past few days, it's not hard to see you’re outgrowing your fears and soon you’ll become cramped with them in this house,” he offers his palm out to you.

You slip your hand into his and squeeze, clench your eyes shut, and take a deep inhale as you step from the elevated doorstep down to the porch.

You playfully puff your cheeks out to hold your breath and squint open one eye to examine your surroundings.

Jake chuckles, tugging you toward his car, “Oh? So you got jokes now?”

You anticipate the same relapse as the last time you stepped foot out your door. Everything appears the same. The autumn breeze waltzes around you the same. The birds chirp the same. The world is the same shade of fall. The same sun warms you. Yet everything that terrified you about your last excursion seems to spell you ambitious to walk further with Jake now. Maybe Jake is right and he can see something you can’t. Maybe you are ready.

You achieve the top of the driveway as Jake pilots the path to open your door and you load into the vehicle. Like a familiar episode of Deja Vu, you had almost forgotten what Jake’s car looked like: the black interior, the smell of him mixed with car leather, and of course a tricked out stereo. The sight brings you to a nostalgic giggle as you are reminded of an indecent moment or two with Jake in this very car.

The door shuts with a slam and just like that, you are alone with the terrorizing silence while Jake walks around to the driver door. Although he rejoins you within seconds, it's enough time to let panic make its presence known, like it always does.

Jake fidgets in the driver’s seat and asks you the same antsy question for the second time this evening through his restless dorky smirk, “Ready?”

You have run out of no’s for him so you force a tight lipped smile and buckle yourself, nearly flinching at the click of your seatbelt. You tug the sash as tight as possible and just pray you aren’t making a fool of yourself.

Jake pulls into a parking spot and anchors his hand on your bouncing leg. The warm sensation of his limb is what reels you in from your own anxious realm to make contact with appraising eyes. You fold your hands in your lap and manage a smile.

You can’t help the way your breath gets caught on panic, “So, everyone is just in there? Waiting on us?”

“If it's showing up wounded you’re afraid of, don’t be,” his hand seeks the lock of your seatbelt and unfastens the buckle with a click, “You tell them that's just your battle scar, angel. Don’t hide how strong you are.”

You grant Jake a slight nod in agreement. Slowly, you push your car door open and extract yourself from the vehicle one limb at a time, as if you are some fragile thing that can shatter with a single misstep. Regret looms closer and closer as you cross the parking lot and pass everyone’s car one by one, each step dragging you towards the warzone you know awaits inside. You stall as your proximity to the battlefield diminishes.

Taking notice of your dawdling, Jake shifts to tower directly in front of you. The sudden advance pounds throughout your chest and hitches your breath but you refuse to fall back. He presses his forehead to yours and coaches you through a deep breath once your eyes refocus on his caramel brown ones.

“If it gets to be too much you don’t even have to say a word,” he gingerly takes your hands in his and squeezes in a triple pattern, “just like that, and I will immediately take you home. No questions asked. Like it never happened and we can try again when you’re ready.”

You focus on your breathing and mimic the intervals in which he gripped your hands.

“Good girl, just like that,” he praises your raging seas back to stillness and checks in with you for a third and final time, “are you ready?”

You nod your head and inhale as if you could take a drag of the courage he is emitting deep into your lungs. Jake releases your limbs back to you but replaces it with his palm against the small of your back as he leads you through the entrance of the bowling alley.

You soak in the dingy fluorescent lighting and are greeted with the smell of beer, leather, and frying grease. The humble sight is paired with a cacophony of pins clunking together in their gutters as classic country pours over the sounds of cheering and laughter.

Your feet already beg to turn back towards the door.

Jake waves to the group occupying the last two lanes, only they are bowling in the farthest and using the other as a barrier of isolation. Just like Jake said. This seems to cancel out a portion of your initial panic wave.

As you follow in Jake’s bee line around pool and foosball tables you recognize Josh, Danny, and Sam waving you over, along with a few other new faces.

The two of you are serenaded by scattered hellos. His brothers each take their turns to greet you, welcoming you with warm words of how elated they are to have you with them again. Jake strategically takes the opportunity to introduce you himself to the new faces to avoid any awkward interactions and customary physical contact. He turns to you as he announces your name with the most exuberant tooth-bearing smile. The one you first witnessed in that dusty record store on Christmas Eve. The one that spelled you absolutely his by New Years. The same giant smile you now only know to exist within the walls of your bedroom during late night laughs. This is Jake in complete bliss.

The beaming smile fades out as he goes to retrieve shoes for the two of you and is replaced by a flood of new ones belonging to his brothers as they catch up with you.

As your welcome parade dies down, your eyes immediately hunt for Jake seeking comfort, already approaching overstimulation. You see him off to the side of the lane’s designated sitting area, discreetly speaking with Sam. Jake’s hand finds its place on his hip and it occurs to you this exchange is one of hostility. Sam presents some unstable defense, eliciting an eye roll and a scoff from his older brother. Ultimately, you witness Jake give into whatever Sam’s plea might be as he heads back towards you with the shoes.

You timidly prompt Jake to tell you what is bothering him when he resides back to your orbit, sitting next to you on the bench.

“Nothing, Sam did something stupid but it doesn't matter anymore,” he looks down as he unconvincingly dismisses your question.

Wavy tresses that normally frame his face, curtain his features as he lets his head hang.

You lightly tug on one of the dangling coffee-brown strands to bring your favorite honey eyes back to your line of sight and give him a heartening smirk, “But you’ll tell me when it does, right?”

His burdened face breaks back to bliss as he tucks a rogue curl behind your ear, “Yes, of course.”

Jake lets his hand linger and for a second you are revisited by the marvelous familiarity of that time with Jake before Nashville.

The rental shoes hit the floor with a light thud as Jake lets them drop beside you. He relieves you of any obligation to participate knowing that you might not be up for it yet.

Grateful doesn’t even scratch the surface of how Jake is able to read you when you aren’t sure how to articulate yourself. You agree, telling him to check back next round.

After a few cycles of everyone’s turns you notice a peculiar pattern in Jake’s behavior. After every play the bowler would return to the lane, showered by hoots and hollers of praise and glory from your friends. This includes Jake, all except for when it came to the welcome of one person.

A girl. She is tall and lean with a long auburn bob, graced by delicate cartoon features and olive skin. Earlier she introduced herself as Claudia.

Everyone cheered upon her return to the kingdom. But not Jake. He did not shout. He did not clap. He did not smile. If she so much as let her gaze fall in your direction he would clench his jaw and check on you. Everytime single time. Like a tick.

You slide your hand on Jake’s mid thigh and rest your head against his shoulder. You feel him almost spooked by your touch. Other than when he came home earlier this week, you are rarely one to seek ease in his touch. You usually avoid all physical contact but especially are never the one to initiate it. However, Jake leans into you once your intention occurs to him.

You tilt your mouth up towards his ear so only he could hear your notion, “That’s her? Isn’t it?”

The muscle of his jaw protrudes at the very mention and he places his hand over yours, “I didn’t want to cause any commotion to further overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. More than anything or anyone, I’m just happy you're here.”

You didn’t have a word for the strange sensation that followed being in her presence. Someone you thought you’d never meet. Someone you hoped to never meet. To put a name and face to the horror story of some wicked stranger who heartlessly spun your trauma without remorse between her fingers. Someone who wielded your weaknesses as a weapon to torment Jake. To turn the only man you trust against you without so much as a motive.

You are interrupted by the already buzzed boys asking for requests as they obnoxiously announce they’re headed towards the bar. Just as Jake’s brothers become absent, the girl with the auburn hair lifts herself from the opposite bench to head towards the restrooms, but not before the flashes you a sly smirk and cheekily waves and winks at Jake. She then swiftly disperses into the ladies room.

The grisly sound of Jake’s teeth grinding invades your ears as he shifts in his seat from physically cringing in outrage.

He growls through his clenched jaw, “That’s enough. I’m going to say something to that fucking prick.”

You discourage him, “No, Jake, please. It’s fine. Don’t give her the reaction she so blatantly wants. Seriously.”

“She fucking with us- she’s fucking with you,” he struggles to not to raise his voice and remain still in his seat.

“I know, but my goal is only to get through tonight,” you try to make him understand beyond his momentary red.

“She’s only going to get braver-,” he surveys your face and cuts himself off with an indecipherable flicker, “Fine, but only because you asked.”

He settles back in his seat appearing fine, his only tell being one leg vigorously bouncing up and down.

Jake seems to cool off though once his brothers are right back with beer and distractions. Claudia eventually returns from the restroom and you do your best to ignore her.

You reticently watch the boys bowl from your reserved spectator bench and ardently listen as they delight you with funny stories of what has happened since the last time they caught up with you. Your vigilance actually begins to wane and you feel yourself seeping into a plane of comfort and ease of enjoyment.

That is until you're being dragged back into reality by Claudia calling your name.

She casually accosts you with the loaded question, as if she is addressing the weather, “So I’m told you moved here from London, what brought you to the states?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. She knows exactly where the trigger is. Your shortest fuse to a spiral. You have no idea why Claudia is gunning for you, just that she is doing it well.

You feel Jake’s subtle touch to your knee and place your hand over him and squeeze.

One.

Your cheeks glow red as you burn alive.

“Well- I-,” you squeak out, “just needed a change of scenery.”

Pleased with the results of her game, Claudia continues, “Interesting. Well, tell me, why our little city? What’s Nashville hold for you? Other than your friend, Jake.”

Your hand clenches around Jake’s once more.

Two.

You feel Jake shift in anticipation, waiting for your third and final squeeze; a bull pawing before his charge. If Jake had his way he would have already put Claudia in her place and left. But he knows this night belongs to you and should be your decision, but you freeze.

In an instant, Jake discreetly turns his head to your ear, the decibel of his encouragement is hardly audible in its lull, “I’m so proud of you no matter how this night ends.”

Proud? Jake is proud of you? You had never really stopped to think about how he might perceive you.

In the midst of your storm you never sought past how he made you feel. You assumed he regards you with compassion and patience and loves you despite being this broken mess because that’s how he made you feel.

Never once did it occur to you that when Jake looks at you, it would be with eyes full of pride.

It isn’t until now that you fully realize how he craves you. It is clear he longs for your recovery and happiness and hungers to have you to himself. But you understand now he yearns for the time he had you in his corner. He aches to experience life with you, like the two of you used to. To walk into a room with you by his side and show you off and indulge in your presence. To be your equal. To be your partner. Though he loves to come home to you and regale you with stories of the road, more than anything he wishes to make you smile by recalling a shared memory instead. He misses who he is with you. But he wouldn’t dare confess such a selfish thought amongst your recent fragility.

You remove your hand from Jake’s and strain a cordial smile across your face.

You're terrified to stay but terrified to retreat. You fear if you go home now you might not ever leave again. And that is not an option. More than ever, you’re now miserably aware you can no longer survive without the courage that would dawn at the burning end of this anguishing night, you only need to push through.

You will your words to wield an ostensible confidence you do not possess, “Well actually this is probably my favorite thing to do anywhere, just spend time with loved ones. So why not Nashville?”

Before she can get in another word Josh returns from the lane and Jake curtly alerts Claudia it is her turn.

After that game ends everyone decides on one more for the night. Jake attempts to sit this round out but you insist he play and so he does. Although it does not take much convincing on your end.

He plays his turns briefly, immediately finding his seat next to you every time. He avoids all contact with Claudia and is mindful to keep you stimulated with conversation rather than your surroundings.

He hums, “So, what did you do for a whole week while I was gone, hmm?”

“I went outside for a walk,” you had almost forgotten to tell him, your brain had repressed the memory.

“Oh,” his tone turns up in genuine surprise, “How was that?”

Even though Jake has seen you through so much ugly, you still carry the small failures with a backbreaking shame.

“I ran back inside,” you grimace.

His brows knit together and bites his lip, “Were you alright after?”

You look down at your fidgeting hands in your lap and click your tongue, “That was the night you came home.”

He rests his pointer finger under your chin to raise your eyes back to his, “Well, all that matters is you’re here now. Even if you hadn’t come tonight, you’ve already overcome so much. And I know I’ve said it already but I’m proud of you.”

You don’t even have a chance to process his adulation as Claudia ambushes your bubble from her seat a few feet away.

“Enough chit-chat. You’re up, Zookeeper,” she smugly addresses the man beside you.

And just like that, everything all at once is consumed by swelling flames of a long-repressed scorching temper.

She must think she's so slick. She must think she is so fucking clever. She must assume you wouldn’t understand her reference. That no one would dare tell little frail you of her verbal assailments.

Or maybe she does hope you catch on. Maybe she thinks you’ll run and hide.

To your own surprise she isn’t so lucky.

Without so much as a moment’s sense or contemplation, venom commandeers your tongue and spurts past your lips and any prior inhibitions, “So just how big does the stick up your ass have to be in order for you to be such a raging bitch?”

She, along with everyone else within earshot, surrenders their aghast attention to you. Claudia's face is now painted with a red blaze. It's obvious she did not think you were going to burst from your timid and socially safe box, no one did.

She springs straight up and crosses her arms from her place on the opposing bench, “Excuse me?!”

Though you had been keeping to yourself you had been paying attention to the game. She couldn’t have hit more than 10 pins the whole time you’ve been here.

You reload your gun and fire off another round, “Is that also the reason you can’t bowl or are you just doing that for attention like everything else?”

Her face creases in bewilderment as she jumps to her feet, “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Her attack stance has concerningly no effect on your newly ballsy demeanor. Jake doesn’t say a word but the way he stands to mimic Claudia’s body language speaks volume enough. She relaxes a bit but is still ready to pounce.

“Oh, I apologize,” you feign a pout, “I forgot you probably can’t hear very well with your head so far up your ass. Let me speak up.”

The distant sounds of snorting laughter and Sam choking on his drink as he spits it out reminds you of where you are.

A pang of guilt ceases your fire. You had given Claudia exactly what she wanted, but now it looked as if it was more than she could handle.

Normally, this would indicate victory. The old you would have basked in Claudia’s dumbfounded state. But now for some reason, you aren’t able to stomach making her feel any worse than you already have.

You back down from your reign and feel your face heat a bright red. Jake holds his hand out to gesture you to stand from the bench. As soon as you take it he squeezes three times and pulls you to your feet.

In all the ways you saw tonight ending, you definitely did not predict Jake being the one to call it quits.

He turns on his heels to address his brothers and friends, “Well, it’s getting kind of late so I suppose we should head home,” his shit-eating grin finds Claudia before she can regain any kind of composure, “We’ve had quite a lot of excitement for one night!”

You only have enough time to grab your purse and motion a goodbye to Jake’s brothers before he whisks you away from the wake of madness you had created.

Once in the shelter of Jake’s vehicle he asks if you’re okay. You respond with a disingenuous yes and neither of you whisper a word to each other for the rest of the car ride home.

You speed through your nightly regimen as if the sooner you shut your eyes the sooner the tides of slumber would wash over you and rinse away the day.

Yet you lay restless in your bed. You toss and turn, pleading for sleep to come but you’re convinced your prayers must have gotten lost.

After what feels like hours, you slip out of bed and throw on an oversized shirt and a pair of worn sweats you stole from Jake. You scamper about, not even certain of what you’re searching for until a tangible task to occupy your idle hands presents itself. You never thought you’d be grateful to arrive at a kitchen sink harboring dirty dishes. You fill the sink with hot water and soap and begin to scrub away.

Your laborious act is rewarded by the complete consumption of your thoughts. Your focus is on the cleanliness of the plates only.

That is until you hear the clinking of glass on the bar cart across the kitchen. You don’t even bother to avert yourself from the chore; you know it’s Jake pouring himself a late night drink.

You dare to ask the question first before Jake can pry, “I know why I’m still up, but why are you?”

“Well, I was in bed until someone decided now would be a great time to do the dishes,” you hear the ice in his drink clatter against the glass.

You attempt to scrub quieter but don’t actually stop.

Jake has no regard for subtly as he dives right into what he knows is terrorizing you sleepless, “I thought you handled tonight fine.”

“I wasn’t ready for- I shouldn’t have-” you hesitate for a moment before continuing the dishes rather than your train of thought.

You hear Jake’s tone slightly pick up, “Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have stood up for yourself? Should have let that cunt walk all over you?”

“Jake-”

You can hear his boiling frustrations begin to erupt past his control again, “No- I'm glad you handled yourself that way! She would have just kept bulldozing!”

You pointlessly try to illustrate your crime, “I stooped to her level-“

Yet he has no desire to understand your fault, his hand not responsible for his glass flying through the air to cut you off, “She deserved it!”

You suddenly feel queasy at the night’s recap, almost dropping the dish you are holding from fatigue, “Jacob, were we even in the same room?! I mean, did you see the look on her face? How can I expect understanding for my pain and trauma and then go and make someone else feel like that?”

The kitchen fell into a still silence, the only audible signs of life being the dying suds in the sink and a remorseful huff from Jake. In his rooting for your full recovery, it hadn’t occurred to him that you might not want to return to everything you once were, including your existing flaws.

A crackled feedback of speakers introduces itself to the air, indicating Jake connected his music to the sound system throughout the kitchen. A soft blue melody pours from the stereo, confirming your assumption as you feel him come from behind you.

He nimbly removes the plate from your grip and places it to soak in the soapy sink water. He takes the nearest dish rag in his hand and delicately dries yours off before placing them around his back, leaning in to curl his arms around your afflicted stature.

Wallowing in your fresh wounds, you naturally resist when he begins swaying you back and forth with the rhythm of the music.

His speech abandons all previous conviction it carried seconds earlier as he softly prays, “Come on, I’m sorry I got upset with you, angel. Dance with me please? It’s been so long.”

You loosen your demeanor and sway with Jake, always wanting to grant him yes on the small things you could.

He accepts your movement as his exoneration and continues to candy you with kind words, “You know, I had no clue what I was in for the first time I laid eyes on you. No clue how in over my head I was- No clue I’d get to feel this way about you.”

As he feels you further give into his motions, he places his hand in the dip of your waist to properly waltz you about the kitchen. With his opposite he tucks your stray bedhead hairs behind your ear and gives you a small tight lipped smirk. His smile is one that you have yet to deny so you wrap your arms around his shoulders and follow his feet, fully accepting your fate.

You rest your head to his bare clavicle as a familiar steel guitar resonates throughout your kitchen. The smallest chuckle escapes him as he begins to hum along with the melody.

Why are you still crying?

Your pain is now through

Please, forget those teardrops

Let me take them from you

The love you are blessed with

This world's waiting for

So, let out your heart please, please

From behind that locked door

Still whirling around the kitchen tile to the swaying melody, Jake fully presses against you and rests his chin atop the crown of your head. Left. Right. Right. Left. Just like the first time on that New Year's Eve. Just like he taught you.The recording blends with Jake as he begins to fully sing along with George Harrison.

It's time we start smiling

What else should we do?

With only this short time

I'm gonna be here with you

And the tales you have taught me

From the things that you saw

Makes me want out your heart, please, please

From behind that locked door

You’re not sure if you’re overwhelmed from the evening’s events or maybe it's Jake singing along with former Beatle’s kind words, but something inside you breaks as your face begins to stream warm with tears. You cling to Jake and hide your face in his chest like a scared child. He holds you steady as you quake under his arms.

A sharp sob breaks out of you and into his flesh, “I miss me too, Jake! I want to come home to you more than anything.”

“I know,” his voice is a calm surface, contradicting his heart pounding erratically under your cheek, “but you’re going to be alright. You will heal, I can feel it. All in good time, angel.”

You fight to steady your speech against hiccuping breaths, “I’ve never fought this hard. It’s never been this dark before, Jake! How do you know that I haven’t burnt out and this is what's left of me? How do you know I’m not stuck this way?”

He answers without a moment’s hesitation, as if he had rehearsed his words and held onto them for a thousand years, “Because, angel, I’ve seen so many places and people and there is only one of you. You’re a marigold. An eternal flame. A rey of light bestowed to me by the sun herself. Your’s is not an energy that can be demolished.”

You squeeze your arms around his neck tighter, abolishing any unwelcome space between the two of you.

Jake caresses small soothing circles against the small of your back, “Whenever you’re ready, I love you now and I'm ready to love whoever you are going to be.”

There are those words again. Words you hadn’t spoken to him till you blurted them out in a half-conscious panicked confession. Words he hadn’t dared speak to you since London. But here he is confirming his love for you in the midst of your wounds and extending it to the woman you would be after they healed.

Swept in your own existential whirlwind, your fingertips mindlessly explore the warmth of his exposed skin as you tilt your head up and close in to his face to appreciate his delicate features there. He realizes you are searching for his lips before you do. Jake lowers his head to help you achieve your hunt, brushing the tip of his nose over the peak of your top lip and across your wet cheek until his warm breath hovers over yours. You swear hours must pass when you finally feel his lips press into yours but not in a kiss, more like he is relearning your mouth, trying to recall your taste before savoring it. Taking the time to survive on the same air, waiting for you to give in.

Heedlessly, you rush against him, lips plush as you remember. As if you are magnetic, Jake’s starving hands fly to cradle your jaw, his thumbs caressing your cheeks and swiping the rolling tears away.

Your appetite swells quickly and you push your weight into Jake until he slowly backs into the nearest kitchen countertop, eliciting a hum that tickles your lips. You stretch on your tiptoes to better reach his hungry mouth. He immediately wraps his hands into the curve of your waist and shifts to lift you on the counter. Jake’s lips never leave yours as he plops you down on the espresso wooden slab.

His tongue graces your lips and you promptly grant him access. He impatiently laps into your mouth as his touch further constricts around your midriff. You feel his starved fingers fighting not to venture across your skin.

Finally, all at once Jake reignites your desire. Like someone turned on the light in a dark room you had been stuck in. Suddenly, you remember where you are and what you had been doing in that room, like you picked up exactly where you left off.

Jake has been your only shelter in this storm. He has put you back together so many times now and remained patient every step of the way. He took care of you in London when he could have looked the other way and nobody, including yourself, would have known. He hauled you away from the monsters Europe held for you. He’s been your only friend and liberation when you couldn’t even escape the very walls of your bedroom. If your malaise hadn’t warded him off yet nothing would.

You finally recognize Jake isn’t leaving. He always says it, but it seemed like this abstract concept, but he is here in front of you still voracious for more even after all he has witnessed.

His devotion is now this tangible thing.

You can see it in the way he looks at you and fights for you. You feel it in the way his fingers grace your skin and hands grab at you. Hear it in the way he sings your name and groans in restraint to devour you. Taste it on his bourbon and peach velvet tongue. Jake is not going anywhere and he’s not going to hurt you.

You depart from his lips to catch your breath and contemplate if this is solid ground or a passive breeze. You retrieve his hand from where it is clasped around your waist, calloused, heavy, extending much longer and thicker than your own digits. You run your fingertips over his knuckles studying the lines there, fidgeting because you’re uncertain how to articulate the arrival of your long awaited craving.

Jake's eyes grow wide, terrified he's done something wrong, “I’m sorry! I don’t-”

“Jake, I want you,” you can’t even stand to hear him finish.

His breath hitches at your words, “No, it's alright. You don’t have anything to prove to me. Tonight has been more than enough.”

It has been months since the two of you have touched each other. He was more than satisfied to just be near you and he did not want to lose or confuse or overwhelm you.

You wrap the material of his shirt around your fingers and tug him in close once more, not even letting the sting of his rejection sink in, “Jake I need to feel you again.”

Still gripping the half open button down, you commandeer his exposed neck to your reckless mouth. He growls a, “Fuck,” into the open air as you begin to kiss, lap, nibble and suck his salty skin.

He groans as you mark his collarbone, “Are you sure, Angel?”

You whisper your third consent into his ear and without a beat missed Jake whisks you off the counter. Your feet barely meet the tile before he's grabbing your hand and ushering you out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and down the frigid dark hall till you reach his bedroom door.

He twists the knob and the hinges groan as he pushes the entrance open for you. You take your time entering his room, your fuzzy socks slipping and sliding on the hardwood floor over to his bed. You sit, sinking into the soft mattress and place your hands in your lap as he turns on his salt lamp, illuminating the room in a coat of warm light.

Your favorite smile grows wild on his face at the sight of you waiting for him on his bed. The elated man hurries over and presses a quick kiss to you before he places his hands on the tops of your thighs.

He levels himself with your line of sight, his every word carrying what seems to be the weight of the world, “You’re in control here. You say the word and it is my command.”

You whisper a rushed yes and he pulls you back to your feet, gripping your hips. He once again envelopes your lips in his, but this time it is sweet and slow. There is no haste, no power dynamic, only the two of you basking in the warm essence of the other.

He swings your hips closer to him and you feel his hard bulge press into your stomach. Jake's fingers scatter for the hem of your shirt. Hips not daring to leave you, his torso repels in order to slip your top off, exposing your goosebump ridden skin and breasts to his soft eyes and brisk air of the room.

You in turn, undo the few done up buttons of his shirt. You lean into him to slip the sleeves off his shoulders, your lips catching along the muscle of his jaw as you undress him.

His hands travel down your sides and slip under the waistband of your sweats, his warmth buzzing across your cool skin. He traces the curve of your hips under the fleece material and migrates to grab your ass until your feet have left the hardwood floor and locked around his back.

At this new angle he laps one of your erect nipples into his velvet mouth with ease and your whimper floats into the room. He groans with a mouth full of your tit as your hands slip into his tousled hair and tug, the vibrations rippling through you and straight to your core as he hums against your pebbled breasts.

He staggers, carrying you till he reaches his bed and leans to lay you down on your back. Jake casts his face over your pelvis and begins to slowly tug down your sweats, pressing his mouth to every newly unenveloped inch of your skin as it peeks out from behind the material being pulled down further and further. Jake’s open mouth kisses trail your hips, thighs, and down to your ankles, tossing the pants somewhere on the floor near his closet after he’s fully removed your pajamas.

He brings his knees up to the mattress and props himself over you, crawling till his mouth is hovering over yours again. He looks down between your bodies as he drags his faint touch below your naval, over your mound, and slips through your folds to feather your clit.

He swallows your moan as you are reintroduced to his kiss. You struggle to stay still as his loving fingers press into your labia till he finds your entrance. You swear you are far more sensitive since the last time he touched you, almost as if this is the first time he’s had you.

He pulls away from your mouth to gingerly check in with you, “This is okay, babygirl?”

“Fuck- more than okay,” you breathlessly whimper against his pink pout.

At your reassurance he inserts a long finger inside you, relishing in the way you squirm underneath him.

“Please- Jake, more,” you’re already begging.

Without any hesitation he inserts his middle fingers and watches as he starts pumping his digits in and out of you, glistening in your slick.

He begins a beeline of open-mouth kisses down the valley of your breasts and past your belly button. He reaches your slit and slightly parts them to suck your clit into his mouth, swirling his warm plush tongue around the swollen bud.

He returns his fingers, this time curling them up inside you, causing your hips to buck towards his face. The lewd sounds of Jake lapping your clit and fucking you with his fingers fills your head. He moans into you as you writhe in his hard-working mouth.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” you desperately command, “Jake, I- fuck, baby- I need you.”

“Just be patient, angel, let me take care you,” he croons against your bundle of nerves, “I’ve- I’ve waited so long for you.”

Jake continues drilling into you, his thick fingers pumping inside you and velvet tongue fluttering against your clit. All at once, your climax sneaks up on you, a drive by of ecstasy, sweeter than you could ever remember or commit to memory. Your legs cut off Jake’s air supplying, squeezing around him till you tremble and you cum right into his mouth without so much as a warning.

But he refuses to cease his oral attack on you. Instead, he continues to consume you at a painfully dizzy pace. You hardly register the symphony of your own whimpers and slurping of Jake sloppily eating you out.

“Fuck! Ja- I- Please, Jake, I need to feel you inside me,” you restively whine through your overstimulation.

Like you’ve casted a spell on Jake, his mouth and fingers part from you without another word. Though the dark of his eyes and furrow of his brows tell you a story of struggle; if Jake had his way, his head would still be lost between your shaking thighs.

He steps to the floor to shimmy out of his pants and boxers to free the pretty pink cock you are desperate for. You watch his hard length bob about as he hops right back on the mattress.

He wraps his hands around your ankles and pushes them in toward you to bend your knees upward. Jake admiringly watches his own hands run along your shins and up your thighs until he stops and squeezes at the thick of them. He spreads your legs open to gain access to your inner thigh and presses more kisses and nibbles there.

When his lips reach your folds Jake laps his tongue though for one last taste before he pulls away to gravitate his core closer to your dripping center. His consuming touch leaves you to grab his cock, collecting the gloss at his tip to pump his hand over himself a few times before pressing his painfully pink head to your lips.

You gasp in pure anticipation and whimper when Jake flicks his throbbing tip over your swollen clit. Lining himself up to your entrance, he looks back to you one last time for your consent.

He rests his arms down beside you to anchor himself in your atmosphere and rasps in your ear, “Ready, angel?”

“I’ve never wanted this more, Jake,” you pant out against his neck.

At your cue, he thrusts his hips into you and hisses in your ear. Your drawn out moan sounds through the room as your cunt welcomingly stretches for Jake.

He looks at you with curious eyes, concerned if you’re still comfortable.

You run a gentle finger along his hairline before brushing the rest through his chestnut waves and nod, “I’m okay, baby, you can move.”

You see relief flash on his face but it is quickly replaced by something else when he plunges deep inside you to the hilt. Jake begins to pump himself in and out of you at a deliciously slow rhythm.

This is so different from anything you’ve ever done with him. Fooling around with Jake had always been some thrilling primitive game. And while this moment is still animalistic, it is also raw and real and sweet and tender. The two of you taking care of each other. The two of you a union.

You are consumed by Jake; he is the only thing you can see, feel, taste, smell, and hear. You can’t recall a moment before him or see a thing beyond. Everything belongs to him. At this moment Jake could do no wrong.

He speeds his pace up and laps a stripe across your neck, “Oh fuck- I missed you, pretty girl.”

The only words you could find were babbled moans.

Praises absent of any satire or malice, he coos, “Oh, someone likes being called pretty? Well good because you are. You’re the prettiest girl.”

Without any real ideation, the desire blurts out of you, “Jake- Fuck- want to be your pretty girl, Jake!”

Both of you caught off guard by the demand, he pulls away from his work on your ear and his hips stall in divided attention. Jake blinks at you wide-eyed, waiting for some redirection of blood flow back to his brain to process your words. You swallow down your mournful whine that follows the loss of momentum, knowing you brought it on.

You are summoned back to coherency by the rasping of your name as he blesses your face with kisses, “You want to be my pretty little thing? Want me to make you all mine?”

Fully wrapping his mind around the concept, his strokes return harder and faster. That familiar sweltering pressure you’ve missed begins to burn in your pelvis, rolling your eyes back.

A stuttered moan is all you can manage, “Yes- Please, Jake!”

Jake brings his hand to cup your chin, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and slows his hips yet again to bring you back to earth, “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

You open your eyes to meet his dark chocolate irises and focus all your energy into gathering your words, “Yes, Jake. I’m yours and I want you to be all mine.”

You are graced with the sight of that giant smile of his, of which he presses to your lips and attempts to kiss you through his teeth baring elation.

He then swings his hips back to a mind numbing pace.

He can’t help the audible smirk in his demands, “Good girl. Now, will my baby cum for me?”

Your only acknowledgement to his request is a broken stream of moans, whimpers, and muttered swears as he swivels his hips, hitting the spot only he ever manages to find.

You are rendered to a puddle of incoherent begging, “Please, Ja- Baby- Fuck- I love you, Jacob, don’t stop!”

You feel your second climax begging to burn through you like a good smoke. With every swing of Jake’s hips, you inhale his saccharine nicotine deep into your lungs and puff him out, only to drag him in again. A sweet slowburn of ashes till you turn out.

Jake begins to thrust inside you even faster and reaches a hand down to rub your clit. You’re lifted by his gravity, arching your back as your pussy begins to contort around him.

“Fuck- do that again, babe,” he hisses in ecstasy, “squeeze me and tell me that you love me when you cum. Please?”

His begging is enough to set off your release. You try your best to look at him but your eyes roll back as the tension in your stomach bursts in a white heat. You feel that electric buzz in your chest ripple throughout you. Your only tether to reality is fulfilling Jake’s sweet need.

You squeeze your walls around Jake as tight as you can, sinking him even further inside you as your rasped confession breaks against involuntary moans and squeals, “Fuck- Ja- I love you so much- Jake! I didn’t even know- it was possible to- to be so consumed by one person. I love- I love you, Jacob!”

He fights to remain composed, coaching you down from your high as he approaches his, “Easy, princess, I’ve got- I got you. I’ve missed you so bad, baby, please let me have it.”

Your senses become bombarded by overstimulation as you finish on his twitching cock inside you but remain attentive to help Jake finish. You know he is close when his hips begin to sputter.

You buck your hips upwards to finish his motions and clench around him one last time as you feel his cock jerking inside you. Jake’s eyes flutter shut and his head drops to your shoulder as slack jaw mutters your name like a swear. Jake slips a hand under your head to cradle you closer as he fights though his final stokes.

You take the opportunity to start sucking and kissing encouragement against his neck, “Come on, baby boy. You’re so good to me. I want all of you, Jake. Want to feel full of you. Want to love you.”

Your serenade shoves him over the edge and his bruising grip sears into your hip bone as he lets go. With a blissed out grunt of your name, you feel his release coat your walls and fill you.

He collapses on to you, his weight sinking you further into the soft mattress. You wish to exist in this amber lit moment forever, convinced the weight of Jake’s head and rhythm of him catching his breath against your shoulder is the safest shelter you’d ever find.

You wrap your arms around Jake to rub his glossy back, still heaving in recovery. He hums underneath your jaw and begins to lazily kiss the muscle there. The two of you seem to exist in your own plane before Jake breaks the silence, telling you to stay put while runs to fetch you a warm rag.

Upon his arrival you grab the cloth from Jake, his eyes devouring the scandalous scene you are cleaning him from your dripping thighs. You catch his ravenous stare and fold the rag to the opposite side. You earn a beaming smile and bashful giggle from Jake as you begin to gently swipe away at the beads of sweat that decorate his glistening face.

He nuzzles into your touch, allowing you for once to care for him. But as you clean him, Jake catches your hand in his to cease your movements. You witness a short scene of grief and guilt play across the very features you were just nursing.

“Was it- not-,” you can’t string your sentence together to bare the thought of Jake regretting his actions.

“No- No- That was- I’m so glad we- Its just- It reminded me of the last-,” he scrambles for his words as a few thoughts try to make their way all at once.

You squeeze his hand still in yours and tend to his uncertainty with a smile of reassurance, “Jake?”

He reflects your gesture, taking a deep breath before putting his concern to words this time, "I never apologized for the way I treated you."

Out of all the things you expected Jake to confess in this moment, an apology is certainly not one, "What the hell are you talking about, Jacob? You have nothing to apologize for. You've been nothing but good to me."

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, indicating you misunderstood, "No- I meant before your move to Nashville. I was just- I was cruel to you and I'm so sorry for what happened between us."

It seems like lifetimes ago, you almost want to giggle at Jake’s amends, having already made up for it in more than a million ways, "Well, trust me, you have more than made up for it. And we are finding our way back now."

Jake pulls you into him for another kiss as he presses a small chuckle and that pretty smile into your lips before scooping you off the bed and into his arms. You devoutly wrap your limbs around Jake to stabilize yourself as he playfully peppers your skin with quick pecks and carries you to the bath he had already started running.

He slowly lets you down to the floor and checks the temperature of the water. Once he is satisfied, he ties up his hair while stepping into the tub. Jake sits and settles his back against the wall before extending his hand up to guide you in. You utilize Jake for balance as your feet dip into the steaming water. You twist away from your guide as the rest of you sinks into the warm bath, replicating his movements.

Jake’s arm grips the lip of the tub as an anchor when the other wraps around your waist as he tugs you into him, your back flush against his chest. You let your head fall against his shoulder to find his lips yet again. A blissed out sigh slips from Jake and tickles your cheek.

Your call comes out smaller than you intend, “Jake?”

His only acknowledgement is a vague hum as he tucks his face away in your neck.

You timidly purpose, “No more games, right?”

You only receive another fatigued hum in agreement, “Of course. No more games.”

You proceed to pry for an answer he's already given in ten thousand different tongues, “Be honest with me? You meant what you said? Or was it the high of the moment?”

“I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to but you should know I have a girlfriend now,” he giggles at himself into your skin, having not removed himself from your neck.

You roll your eyes at Jake. You know he is merely teasing you but you do not have the courage to ask twice.

Jake pries himself from you to grab the tan bar soap and lather it in his vast calloused hands. The smell of vanilla and patchouli shamefully teleports you back to days he had to help you bathe.

He runs the suds down your arms and speaks softly against the shell of your ear, “I meant every syllable.”

Jake rakes his fingers against the skin of your forearms before he places his stretched out hand below your open palms, your limbs posing so helpless and dainty in comparison to his.

He studies the size difference before interlocking your fingers and bringing them to his lips, “This is all I’ve ever wanted. And now it's finally mine.”

Jake places your hands back in your lap to retrieve more soap.

He lathers the suds around your torso and slightly presses his finger into the meat of your stomach, “This is mine.”

You giggle and he continues, the goofy smile plastered on his face audible in his tone.

Jake wraps his digits, finger by finger around your waist, “And this is mine.”

He spreads the suds up across your breast, massaging them and running his knuckles along your nipples as he lightly teases, “I’m very pleased to say these are now mine.”

With his fingertip, he blazes a trail along your clavicle, his lips following the route as he adds, “and this.”

With his hands still on your shoulder he lightly guides your weight forward to gain access to your back. He sweeps your half drenched raven locks above your head and grabs a tie from the tub caddy to place your hair up. His digits meet your shoulder blade and flutter down your back in lawless streaks.

You know he is tracing exactly where your scars are. The scars you’d hardly seen, avoiding them in the mirror at all costs, but you know exactly where the tissue lies.

Jake feels you cringe underneath his touch but doesn’t let you squirm from his reach.

He places his pink lips to the discolored welts there, kissing blessings and vows to your scarred flesh, “And this- I want all of this too.”

His mouth continues up your neck, biting and lapping until he reaches your jaw. Jake places his fingertips on your chin and tilts your head towards a full body mirror across from the tub, directing your vision to your reflection.

“And this stunningly gorgeous face, the one I see everytime I close my eyes,” he punctuates every word with a kiss to your eyelashes, the tip of your nose, and cheeks, “All you see is mine."

He finally reunites with your lips, “And I am irrevocably and absolutely yours. You are all I’ve ever wanted. I am so in love with you, baby.”

thank you so much for reading, pretty please let me know what you think🫶🏼

taglist❤️‍🩹 - @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hollyco @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @littleficsworld @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @kiszkas-canvas @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @fuckyoutommie @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

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[gemapples]

im so sorry it took me so long to answer these oml but YES i'd be happy to show how i draw and color :)

— SKETCHING

please note that i almost always sketch traditionally first lol it's just a lot easier for me to determine how the drawing is placed that way, but i always go over and re-sketch it digitally

for magolor i always start with a basic egg shape (lmao) and then i add his ears. then I draw the scarf; it's easy to determine the shape and dynamicism based on where the bottoms of the ears are located

then i usually add the cape and hood together. where and how these are placed and what these look like in general are very important because they're the main area that perspective is directed to (the ears and everything else is important too ofc!! but the hood and cape usually help demonstrate where he is looking and how he is moving the most). then i add everything else, usually his hands last!

— LINEART

ohhhhhh god my worst enemy. Hope youre sitting down because this will be embarrassing LMAO

lineart is easily what i struggle with most and is more often than not the most time consuming and grating step for me. If i had a choice i would drop it in a heartbeat, but my style is so dependent on thick lines and shapes that it's difficult to 😭 a hole i dug myself into unfortunately ITS FINE THOUGH. ANYWAYS I'm getting sidetracked

i use my finger to draw all my digital art, which means i usually have to use a Heavy stabilizer to avoid shakiness and staggered lines. Unfortunately ibis paint's stabilizer is actually dog water and doesn't even stabilize more than half the time (in which case i have to repeat lines over. And over. And over again until i get it right) but when it does like me and works properly it's very helpful!

i always use the soft school pen bleed brush as my main tool for lineart. This brush has been my best friend for everything, i even use it for sketching idk it just really like the way it looks lol. sometimes i change the aspect if i want the lines to look more ,, chalky?? or smoother depending on the work

i don't really use this tool much but for this specific piece, force fade was my partner in crime

also i think i need to mention that i use so many layers for this. So many layers lol like to the point it's embarrassing. and at the end i merge most of them (except for the gear patterns, rings on his ear, and eyes + hands, which usually need to be by themselves as they're colored separately) Thank you for layers

and i end up with this!

— COLORING && SHADING

yippee yahoo the fun part !!! the part that i love the most

at this point, if i havent already, i always create a folder for convenience in organization because this is the part that i stress the most about what details are on which layers lmao

then i add ANOTHER layer below that for the color, then i put every single color used on their own separate layer!

now, for shading, if im working on larger pieces with more complex shading, i'll usually plan it all out. normally when just drawing magolor, i don't really need to do this anymore because i'm so used to it lol, but for funsies i did it here anyways

then i use the bucket tool to fill them all in

i usually have a set color palette for all the characters i draw (though the way i shade white differs. A lot between my work as you can probably tell fhdfgf). For every color, i have two specific tones that are associated with the shading. for example, indigo + violet are shaded with my blue, pink + light orange (or lighter pink depending on my mood lol) are shaded with yellow, etc.

so, i shade the other areas with the 2nd shading color

a big tip i can give for coloring is to look at a color wheel when you draw. i know that sounds like. Such basic advice LMAO but that seriously was a huge help for me when developing my shading and something i learned while studying — if you notice, in all of the shading in my work, all of the colors used are analogous on the color wheel. note that not ALL combinations will work together like others obv !! but it's a huge step in knowing where to go with it

then i add other extra details like extra lighting, halftones (if i feel like it // if it fits the work), glow to his eyes, and color the lines and ta-da!

another tool i use a lot especially with my more recent art are blending modes, especially multiply. i use a clipping layer to add a dark color (usually a dark blue or purple) and set it to multiply, then erase the areas that emit light

and this is the end result! this is a very very basic demonstration of it fhdjg i was a pretty messy with the lighting and erasing in this example but you get the general idea right

and that's how i draw :) i hope this was helpful, and thanks for asking and being so patient with the response!

#ask #magolor #kirby #macdraws #ive wanted to make a tutorial for So long and finally found a bit of time to do it lmao

[sugar-omi]

DAY TWENTY-ONE — EGGS

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, gn/intersex + top reader, dragon!reader x human!cove, arranged marriage, stomach bulging, knotting, mpreg i suppose, cove w nip n belly piercings, praise

synopsis : you've put off having children to accommodate your human husband, and for him to get comfortable with you. but cove insists he’s ready, and you wouldn’t dare deny your darling husband something he wants

cove is anxious.

and the servants helping him bathe and dress aren't helping as they go on and on about how beautiful your children will be, that "with their majesty's dragon blood, your children will be beautiful and strong!"

even though you promised to be gentle, it didn't ease his fear now that it was happening.

and now he's all alone, sitting in the middle of this grand bed, even though the door is also grand since this is your bedroom- fit for royalty afterall-, he often wonders how it even got in the room from its size.

he tries to focus on the logistics of how the bed was squeezed into the door, and focuses on the grandeur of your palace.

even after nearly a year here, he can never get used to the high ceilings and gold, bold colors and tall open windows. the land is pretty too, open space for dragons to land and flourishing flowers and trees and clear waters.

then he started thinking about how the people dress…

open backs to accommodate your wings, in truth the clothes are quite skimpy to begin with to make room for your tail as well but also since dragons run hot, you need a breeze.

rings and chains to decorate your horns, eye catching makeup and much gold and silver and gems to go around.

it's much different from how he's used to dressing. even though he's used to and comfortable with a lack of clothing, the glamor always make him feel out of place.

even now, necklaces cool his hot skin and he's aware of the rings on his sweaty hands.

he swallows, sighing shakily. he twists his wedding band, shaky fingers tracing the brilliant gems and every curve and bend of the ring.

the door groans, and cove nearly snaps his neck to meet your gaze.

you blink lazily, your nails scraping against the wood as your hand drags along the door. your jewelry clicks, cove's eyes lingering on the shiny pair of anklets.

"ogle as long as you'd like, little dove." you purr, the rumble of your booming voice sends shivers up cove's spin.

he blink, meeting your sharp eyes. "sorry.."

you shake your head, locking the door behind you without looking. the click sticks to cove's mind, anticipation rising in his chest.

"the ladies worked hard to dress me up, please appreciate their efforts." you take long strides across the room, kneeling in the bed and reaching out to softly caress your husband's cheek.

you eyes droop, pointed pupils softening. "i know i do…" you purr, your fingers trailing between his flushed cheeks to his painted, glossy lips.

"although, i think they should have taken your natural fluster into account, the blush is poor in comparison."

cove wraps his hand around your wrist, peeking at you through his lashes.

"i'm.. glad you think so." he mutters, nuzzling into your hand.

your eyes trail down his body, your fingers following your gaze. starting with his hair, curling his hair around the digit, trailing down to his neck and lingering on the choker, pupils dilating with the way it stretches around his throat.

then your nail drags down the valley of his chest, parting his robe to see his pierced nipples, the gem of the jewelry your favorite color.

cove squirms, feeling like prey in the hands of a predator. in a way he was, but he tried not to think of that anymore.

"um.. i- they made something special for tonight…" cove takes your raised brow and retreating hand as a sign.

he undoes the ribbon, and everything seems to move in slow motion as the sleeves pool at his elbows and he shifts to show you his lovely outfit for tonight.

if the servants dressed him with the aim to be devoured, they've hit the mark.

if it isn't the lace underwear, leaving nothing to the imagination, it has to be the garter belt and thighs, showing the expanse of his long legs.

you growl, your canines pricking your bottom lip.

cove's eyes nearly fall out his head when you rip off your own garments, leaving on your underwear.

cove almost wishes you'd take them off so he can prepare himself mentally for what you're packing.

he still hasn't decided if he's thrilled or petrified by what you could get up to in the bedroom. he figures he shouldn't think with his dick, but that's a difficult challenge when it comes to you.

"y-y/n?" cove stutters, scooting back on the bed.

you crawl up the bed, your wings flaring.

cove was always painfully aware of the size difference. but having you hover over him like this.. it makes him squirm and he isn't ready to admit he likes how intimidating you are.

you take his hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. "don't run from me… i promised i'd be gentle, didn't i?" you peer at him through your lashes, turn his arm to kiss his fingers and down his palm…

cove nods, his mouth dry. "yes.. you did."

he feels like you're sucking the breath from his lungs without even kissing him. your lips trailing down his wrist and you repeat the action on his left arm, kissing up the pale, raised path of his scar and to the back of his hand, kissing his ring.

he shakes, biting his bottom lip.

your hand trails down his side, your palm hot against his skin, you snatch off his underwear with a loud rip, throwing the ruined fabric to the side.

cove yelps, trying to close his legs. "y/n!"

you push his legs apart, tugging him so he's laying on his back. "you look divine, my love. i can't resist..." you kiss his inner thigh, getting close to his growing erection before switching to the other thigh. you make eye contact when you part your lips, biting him gently enough to leave a mark but not bleed.

cove moans, covering his face, mumbling something inaudible.

your clawed hands wraps around his wrists, "don't hide your sounds or face from me. i don't want to tie you up." you grin wolfishly, only partially joking.

cove nods and squeaks out his agreement, feeling his temperature rise when you sink back down but not before taking a vial of oil, spreading it over your fingers. "just relax for me.." you purr, slowly sinking in one finger.

he blinks, feeling a bit hazy... right, you mentioned something about pheromones. this must be it, since he feels himself relax and his racing heart evens out.

cove loses himself in your voice, your praises and pet names barely reaching him.

cove whimpers when you add another finger, pushing back on the digits. “good boy,” you purr. “you look so lovely..” your fingers curl against his walls, oil getting on the sheets from how careless you were with it but the mess just adds excitement.

“you’re going to look so pretty on my dick. i almost can’t wait for it..” you pet cove’s cheek, getting close to steal a kiss from his loose lips, pretty moans like a symphony. “it’d be a shame to break you though when we have a whole lifetime to spend together..”

you close the gap, cove mindlessly following your lips and you kiss him so gently it makes his head spin. your lips swallow up his moan when you add another digit, slowly stretching him open.

he breaks the kiss, panting and whines loudly.

your lips fall to his throat, pushing back his hair to place wet kisses along tan skin, stopping to suck a hickey where you feel his pulse under your lips, leaving a deep mark that will take days to heal.

he squirms, forcing your fingers against his prostate. “ahh!” cove cries loudly, his walls convulsing around your digits. you grin, happy to see him falling apart from your fingers alone. “is that your spot?"

you curl your fingers again, rewarding you with a loud moan, his back arching off the bed.

"that's it doll, keep fucking yourself on my fingers." you sink down so you're on your stomach, kissing cove's tummy until you're face to face with his weeping cock.

you kiss the tip, taking him into his mouth.

"ah- y/n.." cove squirms, grinding on your fingers, twisting the sheets. you take him further into your mouth, swallowing around his length.

cove groans, his thigh shaking under your hand. he forgets about a special trait of dragons, and that's your long forked tongue…

you tongue wraps around his dick, spit running down his length and balls, adding to the mess between his legs. cove squirms, thrusting up into your mouth, his fingers finding their way into your hair.

you scissor your fingers and suck at the same time, cove yelling out loud curses and moans. his fingers tighten around your strands and you groan around his length.

“f-fuck!” cove cries, tears welling up in his eyes and his free leg shaking by your side. he tries not to kick you so instead he lets go of your hair and finds your horn, his fingers wrapped around the base.

the vibration from your muffled noises, your growl making your throat move around his leaky cock pushes him over the edge, his cum filling your mouth. cove whimpers, crying your name and his nails scratch the base of your horn as your tongue moves up and down his length, your lips sucking on his tip.

he pushes against your head, his foot hitting the bed. “that’s- hah- that's enough…”

you release his spent cock, wiping your mouth as you admire your darling husband with his face covered by his arm, chest rising and falling (you mentally remind yourself to pay special attention to his pierced tits), and his cock still twitching leaking on his tummy.

cove peaks at you, his bangs sticking to his forehead. “are.. are you gonna put it in?”

your jaw tightens and you feel your dick twitch against your thigh, eager to make those tears caught on his long lashes fall.

you nod, and you resign to a scolding from your tailor later about all the ripped clothes as you throw your underwear to the pile. cove’s eyes roam down your body, his shaky gaze settling on your cock.

he mentally curses, squirming. would.. would you even fit? and what about the eggs? fuck. he feels in over his head.

almost like you’ve read his mind (as if his worry wasn’t obvious), you reassure him. “don’t worry, beloved. you’ll be able to take my cock and eggs, i’ve prepared you for this day haven’t i?”

cove swallows, his stomach stirring pleasantly as he thinks back to all the nights you called him to your room or snuck into his and stretched him open with your fingers or tongue until sunrise, then you’d disappear until the afternoon as if you hadn’t pulled him apart just hours ago.

“yeah..” cove mumbles, watching you pour oil over your dick. you’re so thick, prominent ridges along the underside leading up to your tapered tip, and a fat knot at the base. then his eyes trail down to your cunt, your slick running down your thighs..

“i’ll let you fuck me once we’re done.”

cove snaps out of his trance, meeting your knowing eyes with his own wide saucers. “w-what?!” you lean over him, your wings casting a shadow over you both. “i’ve never had sex with a human, it’ll be interesting.. especially if you’re full of my eggs.”

cove moans, pinching his lips together to muffle the sudden sound.

“ah, so you like that idea! how sweet..” you cheer, almost teasing but he tries not to take it that way. you lack shame, perhaps something caused by living so long, whereas he has much of it, enough shame to be embarrassed by most things out your mouth.

cove didn’t plan to say anything back, but any thought he did have vanishes when you sink inside him, your tip stretching him out and he throws his head back, arching and squirming against the sheets as your dick stretches him open the more you sink into him, the ridges dragging against his walls deliciously.

your tail swings behind you, messing up the bed sheets. you’re panting, trying to give him time to adjust to your size but he’s flushed down to his chest and panting so adorably, his cock still as lively as ever and you can even see a bulge when he sucks in his tummy… you want to ruin him.

cove blinks through his tears, licking his lips.”you.. you can move.” he pants, removing half his face from the pillow.

you lean over him for a kiss, your sweaty chests pressed against each other as he wraps his arms around your neck, pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. he’s too busy feeling your forked tongue along the inside of his mouth to realize you’re rearing your hips back, drunk off pheromones and consumed by your being.

you slam inside him, your knot pressing against his entrance. cove yells into your mouth, breaking the kiss.

you kiss his temple, “you don’t mind if i’m a little rough.. right?”

you don’t even give him a chance to respond, pushing out all his thoughts with you dick, the ridges of your cock dragging against his walls and he’s melting at how your cock easily reaches those sweet spots inside him.

cove cries, clinging onto the pillows as your cock drags against his walls, cum getting all over his and your stomach when you lean down to suck on his jeweled nipples, scraping the sensitive bud with your teeth and hollowing your cheeks.

he whines, his cock twitching and leaking more cum. fuck it feels so good.. and when you finally pull off his nipple is puffy and flushed, then you switch to the other one to do the same. cove cups the back of your neck, letting you suck on his chest.

‘i wonder if i’ll lactate..’ cove stares at the ceiling with blurry vision, his bouncing feet and your brilliant wings in view. you’re using your body to fold him in half, forcing him to open up and take you.

you pull off his nipple with a pop, nuzzling into his neck and nipping at his skin.

“nngh-” cove throws his head to the side, exposing himself to you and you welcome it. cove’s nails drag down your back, catching on the base of your wings.

you groan, your thrusts faltering and your head drops to his shoulder. he can feel your shaking breath, your fingers tightly holding onto his thighs.

“..again..” you mumble against his shoulder. cove blinks, not hearing what you said. “huh? did that- did it hurt?”

you remove yourself from his shoulder, your eyes sharp and panting. “do it again. touch my wings again..”

cove stares dumbly before he nods, stroking the base of your wings and rewarding him with a lovely moan and you shudder, your wings fluttering and flapping. “fuck..” you curse, fixing your grip so your hands on the back of his knees and cove cries out when you set a faster pace, your tip slamming into his g-spot.

your knot is catching on his hole, the sudden stretch whenever you push into his insides makes his head spin and his cock twitch, but every backwards pull of your hips pulls your knot out and it makes his heart hurt. he wants to be full so bad he could cry.

you’re purring, your rumbling chest reverberating through him. “‘gonna knot.. gonna fill you up…” you babble, licking up cove’s tears he didn’t realize he was shedding.

you stop your bullying on his poor guts to ease your knot into him before it didn’t fit, and cove’s nails drag down your scales to your skin. you kiss cove’s open mouth, scooping up all his moans and cries and babbled words with your tongue.

“so good. good mate..” you soothe when your knot finally pops inside him, his tight ass stretched and filled to the brim with you cock. cove wraps his arms around your neck to kiss you properly, and you’re the one who realizes he’s cumming, his cock shooting out long strips of cum over his tummy.

you growl, the sound shaking against cove’s tongue.

you grind into him, your tip right against his prostate. you babble more soothing words and praises as cove cries and whines, feeling your cum paint his insides.

“so good- just a bit more..” you lick his wet cheeks, holding both his hands as he starts to get louder and squirmer, your dick stretching to accommodate your eggs.

cove’s legs are shaking, and his cock even drools more cum.

to think he started out wishing he never agreed to marry you and move to your foreign kingdom, and here he is falling apart on your dick, cumming from your knot and the stretch of your eggs filling up his insides.

“y/n~” cove drawls, whiny. that was one egg… not bad, it’s not as big as he feared it would be, suppose the whispered gossip from the towns ladies back home about how “a dragon's egg would make a human burst!” isn’t anywhere near the truth.

you shush him, kissing his cheeks. “it’s okay, lovely. just a couple more..”

cove whimpers, your cock stretching against his sensitive walls, this time the second and third egg is easier, filling him up quickly. he pants, his weak arms falling to his side, his fingers twitching and he barely finds the strength to hold onto the pillow when he feels more pressure.

“i-i thought-!” cove cries, looking down at his stomach.

even through his bleary eyes he can see his wide stomach, your eggs and cock making his stomach bulge.

cove cries and curses, his head falling back. that… that’s hotter than it should be.

you pant, massaging cove’s thighs. “last one.. last one i promise…”

the egg stretches past your tip, knocking against the other eggs and cove sighs, happy that it’s finally over. he puts a hand on his stomach… dragon eggs definitely aren’t small, and he’s tired.

although.. he can’t help but be a bit happy.

you pet his hair, kissing his cheek…

“i knew you’d look good full of my eggs.”

#sugar-omi kinktober #sugar omi kinktober #kinktober #olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut #cove x mc #cove x reader #cove our life #cove holden x reader smut #cove holden x mc #our life cove #our life smut

[anon-e-miss]

The Desert Blooms - 10

“I know it wasn’t an easy decision,” Jazz told Prowl. 

Crowds had lined the streets cheering as they had ridden to the temple in a sedan chair. They had not come across as vindictive or wrathful to Prowl. He had searched the faces of thousands of mechanisms for hatred and he had only found jubilation. With singular joy, they had cheered the return of Amalgamous’ sparkline to the throne of Polyhex far more loudly than they were cheering Barricade and he taking the Touch of Adaptus. The worst of the indolent fool’s excesses had been well hidden and well managed during his life. If he had not been assassinated while serving as Prime in Iacon, there was no telling how much worse it would have gotten for Polyhex. He had named Zeta Major, Prowl’s eldest uncle his heir. The same uncle who had first attempted to murder Camshaft when they had been small sparklings. Zeta Prime had known who had arranged for this and had allowed his originator, the Emperor to collect on his debts by invading Polyhex. Perhaps it was karma that Zeta had been assassinated by Sentinel. Regardless, Prowl did not grieve the mech and unlike Amalgamous there was no cult in Praxus celebrating him. Windbreaker had only made a token show of anger at the murder of his first emerged. A simple bribe had been enough to see him turn his troops away from Polyhex. Sentinel had overpaid. Those troops had been simple conscripts pained to look like noble creations, trained from emergence for war. Zeta had not been worth even a single battalion of Praxus’ elite troops.

Barricade and Ricochet had been ushered off into their own room. Prowl wished he was not here to endure this but Barricade would not go and Prowl had made his peace with it. Jazz kept him company as they waited. As they spoke, priests were brewing the tisane that would unmech him. He had come to the temple wearing his armour, polished to a shine, he would leave in a silk gown. Already, it was hanging over the chair in the sitting room. The material was so fine, that Prowl hardly felt it against his sentio-metallico. To think this was what he was to wear for the rest of his life. It was unlikely he would be permitted to wear armour as Punch did, no matter the circumstances. Though having seen the welts and sores armour left on the revolutionary Touched, Prowl did not believe he would be terribly inclined to break that convention. In for a thoughtful touch, Punch had woven the cloth himself, creating a beautiful floral pattern. He had woven silks for Barricade as well in rich purple and black. It had been the norm when Punch had been Touched that the silks they wore to be perfectly sheer, simmering white. Prowl thought he understood why and it had nothing to do with the fragility of the Touched. Pigment and embroidery, done correctly added some modestly to a Touched’s garb and modestly was not their due. Would there be grumbling when he stepped out in his for the first time? The gown was sheer where there was no embroidery but there was embroidery over his array and his wells. His spark chamber would be bare between the panels of silk that made his bustier. It could hardly be called a chest plate.

“It was not as hard as I would have wished,” Prowl replied, twisting the soft silk of the gown’s skirt with his digits. 

His vestigial claws had been painted gold. Punch has not been sure if they would fall off as he was changed or if they would impale his digits internally if they were sheathed so for the time being, they were on display, perhaps they always would be. Would they still grow? The Emperor’s were long, as long as each digit in length and he kept them painted red and viciously sharp. His originator had always kept his claws short and unpolished and Prowl had always done the same. Camshaft and not seen the point of lacquer when he dug in the garden as often as he could. 

“Barricade would not have liked it if I had chosen death but he would have understood my reasoning, even though he disagreed with it. I could not have explained it to Bluestreak. He would have only known more pain, more loss. I was not sure if his little spark could take it. After I spoke to Ratchet, he confirmed my fears, there was really no choice at all.”

“Do ya regret’m imprinting on ya?” Jazz asked.

“No,” Prowl replied, smoothing the silks he had wrinkled. “Maybe I should?”

“Ya got a spark for love, nurture‘n protection,” Jazz declared and Prowl found his cheek plates warming. “Ya don’t regret doin’ what ya did for my framekin, do ya?” 

“No.”

“Even now?” Jazz asked. “Knowin’ that they celebrate what’s comin’?”

“Do they not see it as a blessing?” Prowl asked. “In the Lower and the Least?”

“Yeah,” Jazz replied. “They don’t know better.”

“Exactly,” Prowl replied. “They do not know better.”

“Y’re a good mech,” Jazz replied. “I can’t give ya the life ya deserve but I’ll do right by ya.” 

“Thank you,” Prowl said. “Punch is a fine mech, one of the finest I have met. You and Ricochet do him great honour as his creations. I believe you will show yourselves worthy as kings.”

“I hope you’ll be willin’ to advise us.”

“Of course.”

Punch brought Bluestreak to him a final time before the ceremony. The bitlet all but threw himself from Punch’s arms and into Prowl’s. He clung so hard, digging his tiny, clawed digits into his armour. Bluestreak latched hard, harder than he ever had and he suckled with great urgency. Prowl stroked his back and crooned to him. Since Bluestreak had fully imprinted on him, the bitlet had not been away from Prowl’s side for even a moment and this mega-cycle they had been apart for two joors already as Prowl had been detailed from ped to helm and the pure bitlet was beside himself. The violent loss of his biological family was still far too fresh, Prowl realized and he just could not cope with a prolonged separation. What were they to do after the ceremony?

”Seems like yer gonna have to bring Bitty Blue to us soon as ya think Prowl can handle it,” Jazz said as he stroked Bluestreak’s helm. The touch helped to reassure Bluestreak further and he became less frantic in his nursing. Prowl sighed with relief and he nodded.

”I will,” Punch promised. “I’ll take good care o’m. I promise.”

Prowl trusted him. He knew Punch would dote on Bluestreak even more if only Bluestreak would let him but Bluestreak had become very clinging as soon as Prowl had begun to lactate for him. Punch was one of the two mechanisms that Bluestreak could enjoy a little snuggle with, Barricade was the other. He loathed Ratchet at the moment. All the pain and confusion he had endured had been overlaid onto Ratchet. In time that would fade, Prowl hoped. Eventually, Bluestreak would be old enough to be reasoned with but he was just a tiny bitlet, not even a stellar-cycle old. Prowl wished he knew what his procreators had designated him and what they had been called themselves but their Praxian neighbours had all fled and no Polyhexian neighbour had come forward with information. It was unfair; their creation deserved to know them.

“Y’re sure?” Jazz asked as the temple bells rang. It was time. Prowl cocked his helm.

“Would you prefer if I changed my processor,” he asked.  

“Primus no,” Jazz exclaimed. Prowl raised his doorwings in surprise at the force of Jazz’s cliffs.

“I believe you,” Prowl sighed and his doorwings drooped with relief and he found himself flushed again. Jazz smiled at him and it was a charming smile.

“I don’t wish the Touch on ya, but I wish for death less,” Jazz replied with simple sincerity. “I wish I could think o’ some way to spare ya this that wouldn’t mean war with the chiefs. I wish, I didn’t think sacrificin’ ya was the best answer we were gonna get.”

“I do not wish for any more harm to your framekin,” Prowl said. “They have suffered long enough. I was always intended to be a sacrifice. In this way, I can serve as a shield against the Emperor’s machinations, rather than a convenient excuse for war.”

“I hope some mega-cycle I get to tell yer ori what a good pair o’ mechs he raised,” Jazz replied.

“I cannot imagine Originator being permitted to come here,” Prowl said and he grieved that with all his spark. He missed Camshaft dearly. He wished he could tell him that he was going to the temple and to the Touch with a clear helm. If Camshaft ever did make his way to Darkmount, it would not bode well for Jazz or Ricochet.

“From what ya told me, he ain’t the sort to ask permission,” Jazz replied.

No, Camshaft had never been inclined to ask permission from the Emperor and unlike the adage that it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, Camshaft did not ask his originator’s forgiveness when he did as his willed. But Windbreaker was both cruel and petty and he knew his second creation perfectly well. It would hurt him to be forever separated from his creation, just as it would hurt Prowl, the most reviled of his grandcreations and Prowl had no doubt Windbreaker would make it all but impossible for them to reunite. Prowl prayed his originator faced this cruelty with stoicism and not temper. He did not want Camshaft killed. Perhaps, in time, one of his uncles, or perhaps his aunt would draw the focus of Windbreaker’s ire and Camshaft would have the chance then. Windbreaker hated Camshaft even more than he hated Prowl. It would take quite a grievous error to distract the emperor’s wrath from spiting his Second emerged.

Symbolically, it needed to appear that the one to be Touched went to the blessing willingly. The fact force was applied in the background, as it had been for Punch, as it was now for Prowl and Barricade, could not be on show. Prowl imagined there had been times when mechanisms took the Touch fully willing but Prowl suspected more often than not there was familial pressure and manipulation behind it. No mechanism after Prowl and Barricade would be faced with this pressure. Jazz and Ricochet had stayed out on the burning sands until the playing on their legs and arms had burnt and blistered to ensure they found every crystal and destroyed every one. They would go out again, Jazz had told him, at least once a vorn to make certain no new crystals ever grew.

Prowl stood in the doorway and waited. He saw Barricade take a goblet from from the priest at his own door and brush past the mech mid-blessing. He walked past Prowl to join him in his room. Prowl lightly dipped his doorwings as Ricochet followed after him. Prowl took poisonous tea from the high priest as the priest Barricade had interrupted, rushed to join him and the priests blessed them both as they exalted Adaptus. Jazz waved them off and closed the door. This was a private thing. Though Prowl would be presented when the ordeal was over, to show all, mostly the court, it had been done. Setting the poison down, Prowl removed his armour as Punch had advised. Prowl shrugged his doorwings as the others watched anxiously as he retrieved the poison and drank it down.

Pain!

He screamed but no sound came out. Prowl felt to the floor, saved from falling flat on his face by Jazz’s quick catch. It felt like Jazz’s digits were digging into his plating. Over and over Prowl wretched as it felt like shards of glass carved their way through his fuel tank and energon lines. It felt like acid was burning through his array. Servos cupped his helm as he writhed on the floor. The carpet scratched his sentio-metallico; it felt like hundreds of small knives cutting over and over. A keen deafened him and for a moment Prowl thought it was his own but his spark flared and Prowl dragged himself onto his knees and he crawled towards the door. Bluestreak. Bluestreak was hurting. His legs gave way as the poison burned like acid through his array. Was he leaking energon? It felt like he must have been. Though it felt like the carpet would skin him, Prowl pushed himself up onto his elbows. Bluestreak. Bluestreak. The door flew open and the keening became louder.

“What’s wrong with him?” Barricade demanded.

“He feels it through the bond,” Punch explained. “Jazz, help’m sit up.”

“I don’t wanna hurt’m,” Jazz sounded distressed.

“Ya will,” Punch replied. “It can’t be helped.”

“‘M sorry Prowl,” Jazz crooned and he pulled Prowl into his arms. Prowl thrashed. A cry finally escaped his vocalizer. Jazz was crushing him!

“Hold the bitty to his chassis,” Punch ordered.

“Won’t that make it worse?” Jazz asked. A weight like a boulder pressed against his chassis. Bluestreak’s spark screamed against his and Prowl stopped his thrashing and crossed his arms over the bitlet and trembled with pain beyond agony. His ventilations came in hisses as he tried to still his spark so as to soothe Bluestreak.

“No,” Punch replied. He stroked a tear from Prowl’s faceplate. “Their sparks were feeding off each other, creatin’ a loop that mighta been strong ‘nough to gutter’em both.”

“Fraggin’ pit,” Jazz cursed. “‘M so sorry Prowl.”

“Are they okay?” Barricade asked.

“I think the worst is o’er,” Punch said. “Barricade…”

“Ya don’t gotta do this,” Ricochet sounded panicked as he caught Barricade’s wrist. Prowl looked up at his brother and saw a will of fire.

“I only waited in case this was some trick,” Barricade said. He pulled his wrist free and took a step back. Prowl locked optics with his brother. “You aren’t getting rid of me.”

#valveplug #maccadams #anon-e-miss writes #tf prowl #tf jazz #tf barricade #tf ricochet #mechpreg #the desert blooms

[rawliverandgoronspice]

TLOZ translations always seem to be a bit shitty. I still see people talk about the weird translation of the Demise monologue at the end of SkSw. I think someone said that Demise was more general with his statement, as in there will always be forces from the demon tribe fighting against the light or smth? Not specifically "us three will always fight". (I've read it a few times, but hard to remember, sorry.) (On the topic of SkSw, I kinda dislike how much it impacted theories within TLOZ, some theories are really cool, don't get me wrong. But now, even games that existed for years before suddenly are being pushed to fit with the lore presented in that game. Ganondorf being the best example: He no longer is his own character who did bad things because of his own will and actions, it's now "He did it all because an evil curse made him do it. He had no choice, he was born as a vessel for the demonic lord." The implications that "the curse of Demise" also would mainly go for the already vilified race of the Gerudo, and make their one male an evil warlord is already kinda... yeah... no. (Not to mention that there are other demon lords throughout the franchise that have nothing to do with Ganon.)

Ohh speaking of this I recently saw this post that did a good translation of that very moment, and pretty much confirms what you are mentioning anon; that it's basically a promise of that cycle coming back moreso than Demise himself coming back (especially since his actual and definitive death is a big deal in that game).

But yeah, I agree it has taken a huge space in the way the series is thought about. I pretty much completely missed that hard turn, as I couldn't play Skyward Sword when it released and wasn't super into Zelda afterward anymore (I had gotten too edgy.... 2011 was the year where I got obsessed with every horror videogame in existence basically except for Resident Evil for some reason I could never get into that series ANYWAY WAY off topic........), so coming back a few years later had me very ???? puzzled about how the theories had reconstructed themselves around Hylia and Demise and endless cycles (it's not that it wasn't a thing before, but I wouldn't say it was as much a Series Trademark as it is now).

But yeah. Ganondorf having his own motivations makes him immediately stronger as an antagonist, especially since his deal is quite complicated all things considered.

I am having a thought about how a lot of Zelda villains' motivation is a sort of rebellion against nature. I have scratched enough digital paper about Ganondorf's situation, but like... Minish Cap Vaati is also very much motivated by his refusal to remain small and whimsical and seize power instead of staying in his lane (and then he gets horny in Four Sword so, maybe let's not go there), Zant is.... Zant, Hilda in A Link Between World has been cosmically punished for trying to reject the Goddesses and create a world on its own terms --like SERIOUSLY this is HORRIFYING I feel like we don't talk enough about how utterly nightmarish of a reality that paints for Hyrule as a whole-- Girahim is devoted but fights for the side more or less destined to lose... It's interesting how Hyrule is hostile to change and anything that threatens the statut quo.

(then you have the occasional Majora and Yuga, whomst I dooon't think really fit the above category --to their full credit! and then you have Bellum, who is..... a blob...... And I don't remember enough from either the Oracles game or about Malladus to put them in either category, I need to replay those games)

Hyrule really has this frightening quality to it when you stare at it for too long: that your two only options are to either graciously submit to your assigned cosmic role, or fight it and become darkness incarnate in some way. A Link Between World showed, quite starkly, that trying to escape that binary choice is *not an option*.

#asks #thoughts #totk #ganondorf #demise #skyward sword #vaati #hilda #zant #girahim #a link between worlds #minish cap #thanks for the ask!! #sorry I'm getting through them now that I'm not dying as much from covid #I fell over because I had too much fever #fun + normal #but yeah weirdly enough I think this is what compels me about the series now more than anything else #what can one do in such a reality how do you self-define what is freedom what is agency #man a link between worlds is such a good game tho #see this is why I had higher standards for totk's worldbuilding

[mncxbe]

Hi, can I say I adore your writing. Literally perfection. This may be an odd request but do you think write an Ango x fem black cat reader? Or just with her personality type. THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU.

TYSM LOVE YOU TOO ANON and yes deffo. we love a girlboss and tbh I do see Ango falling for someone like that. Hope you enjoy it♡♡

// to clarify the reader's ability is shadow travelling. basically she can morph/ conceal herself in shadows.

°☆○

Camellia

��𝒏𝒈𝒐 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

The smell of rain was everywhere: down the dark streets dappled with light from street lamps, in deserted parks and inside Ango's office, seeping through the slightly open window. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent before taking off his glasses.

His half lidded eyes drifted to the clock on his desk: 3:40 a.m. 'Soon it would be over' he thought as he resumed working on the last report of the night. The glowing screen in front of him seemed hazy; a jumble of tiny letters and symbols. His head hurt.

Just then, the door cracked open. Ango waited for a few minutes but no one came in, and I mean who would still be awake at that hour, before resolving that it must've been the wind.

"Still working Ango?" a voice sounded from behind him.

For a moment the man froze, his nimble fingers ceasing their motion along the keyboard but then a smile rose to his lips upon recognising who the voice belonged to.

"Still roaming and sneaking into my office at night, Y/N?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You know I can't help it"

Ango needn't look at you to know that you were wearing that leather coat of yours, the one you wore regardless of the season or time of the day. For a while after you joined the Special Division he assumed that the coat was some sort of extent of your shadow travelling ability, but then realized that it was simply a fashion statement.

"Well that's a nasty habit of yours." he added, typing away on the clanky keyboard "You could've given me a heart attack"

The sound of your footsteps signalled that you were coming closer to him, his body automatically stiffening. Your forearms came to rest gently on his shoulders, slender fingers loosely interlocked in front of him; your nails were long and sharp, painted a black, translucent colour and adorned with intricate patterns of lines.

"But you should've known I'd come. I always do. If you ever get a heart attack it's gonna be solely your fault." you replied in an amused tone. Your hot breath fanned over the shell of his ear, sending goosebumps on his skin.

His muscles became even more rigid due to the closeness between the two of you. No matter how many times you came he still never got used to your presence; and indeed, you always seemed to make an appearence when he needed you the most, during the last hours of a 48 hour shift when his mind was so clouded and his brain felt paralyzed. You were like a shot of expresso, getting him back on his feet.

You leaned further over his shoulder, eyes scanning the glowing screen. The man could smell your intoxicating scent; a mixture of floral and citrusy fragrances with a hint of... vanilla? It was like a punch to the stomach, his face growing hotter and turning a light shade of pink as his digits stumbled across the keyboard. He made so many mistakes he had to erase each longer word twice.

"You work too much Ango. You should go home and rest" you eventually said in a gentle voice. "I can finish this report. It's for my mission right?"

He nodded once "Yea but it's the last one. I'll go home after"

You clicked your tongue, suddenly spinning his chair so he's now facing you. Your figure leaned slightly over his - as per usual you were dressed in black- your languid gaze taking in his features.

"When's the last time you got more than four hours of sleep at night?"

After thinking for a while he said that he doesn't remember, earning a loud sigh from you.

"What am I going to do with you?"

With a swift movement you slid your legs between his, inching closer as you brought your lithe fingers to his temples and started gently massaging them. Ango tried to protest but you quickly dismissed him with a tsk.

"Close your eyes and relax Ango"

And he did and felt the pressure built up inside his skull gradually dissipate. Your fingers worked magic, and soon enough his dull headache was gone. Relieved from pain the man sighed, his lips curling in a smile.

"Thank you... I feel much better now" he said, gratitude pooling in his eyes.

"You're welcome." you replied as you looked down at him. Your hair fell graciously around your face; your swooped bangs like butterfly wings shifting slowly with each movement of your body.

You stood like this for a few moments: gazes locked, mere inches away from eachother and he felt urge to touch you. Still, he knew he shouldn't. He never knew how you'd react to such affections and he was scared you'd back away, completely depriving him of you, so he simply stood there, accepting whatever you were willing to give him tonight. Maybe you would offer to massage his shoulders again like you did two weeks ago, or go to the convenience store and buy him a sandwich, or even promise to drive him home when he was done.

But today you did something else, something unexpected. You brushed away the stray strands of hair on his forehead and leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead. Ango's body stiffened and he inhaled sharply, causing a light giggle to roll off your lips as you pulled away.

Just then your colleague's arm snaked around waist, pulling you closer. The look in his eyes was of pure exhaustion but you could see a passing shadow of longing. Ango felt each steady heartbeat in every cell of his body as he stood there, looking up at you; big eyes, long lashes that fluttered each time you blinked.

"Don't toy with me now Y/N. I'm in no mood for your little games" he said, defeated, but you only smiled, sliding the tips of your manicured nails along his scalp.

"How could you accuse me of such a thing Ango?" you purred and he gulped, feeling a rush going through his body. Your voice always had that effect on him, as if you were strumming the cords of his being.

He knew you were probably aware of the effect you had on him but he was too tired to care. With a pleading look on his face he straightened his back and brought his hands on your hips, lightly holding onto you like you were a porcelain doll. His eyes moved from your lips to your mouth and oh, you knew what he wanted.

With a sly smile on your face you tilted your head to the side. Leaning in, your lips were so close to his he could almost touch them.

"Say, Ango. Do you wanna kiss me?" you teased and he nodded, slightly parting his lips to allow you to slide your thumb over them.

And then you actually kissed him; it was a fleeting, sweet moment but it was real and he relished every second of it. When you pulled away his cheeks were tinted a dark shade of pink.

You chuckled, stroking his hair lightly. "Come on. Go and finish your work now so you can go home and rest."

Your words snapped him out of his trance and he spun his chair back to face his laptop. "You're right" he stammered "I should..."

"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow" you said as you walked past his chair and exited his office. Ango typed away for some time before finally shutting down the computer and going home, the memory of your shared kiss still replaying in his mind.

That night sleep was deep and when he woke up the mext morning he felt well rested. He took the usual route to work by foot, passing by small coffee shops, pubs, closed clubs and stores, stopping at a flower shop. Bees swarmed around the colourful blossoms, hopping from roses to lillies, from golden daffodils to tulips.

Ango bought a small bouquet camellias before going to work and walking up to your desk, which was still empty. Placing the flowers on the wooden table next to a half empty cup of black tea, he quickly scribbled a note [Dinner at 8 in my office? ~ Ango] and placed it under the bouquet, then turned on his heels and made his way to his own office.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #ango bsd #bsd ango #ango x reader #ango sakaguchi

[upsidedownwithsteve]

can i request 19 for the hand holding list pls lovely 🫶🫶 tysm for sharing your wonderful writing!! ✨

Thank you for reading lovely! 🧡 (you didn't specify a boy so I chose Eddie, I hope that's okay!)

The conversation around you was a dull buzz, a high pitch of a yell here and there when things got too animated. Planning a trip to the lake was always going to be testing with so many people to count for, but including the kids in the conversation seemed to be a choice that Nancy was quickly regretting.

Dustin and Max were arguing about who was sitting in which car, El had shouted shotgun three times despite not knowing what it meant and Robin had fallen asleep in the corner, her head resting against Steve’s leg as he mumbled about gas prices.

You were content on Eddie’s lap, legs over his as he rested his chin on your shoulder, nose pushing at your hair, both of you silent and observing. It didn’t take long for you to lose interest in the way Nancy was trying to write out an itinerary, only huffing out a soft laugh here and there when Eddie and Steve cracked a shitty joke.

But the boy fell as quiet as you when you took his fingers in your hands, each digit much larger and thicker than your own. It felt nice to wrap your own around them, twisting and tangling, squeezing the weight of his cold rings in your palm. Your movements were slow, almost distracted, your skin soft on his calluses and guitar string scars and Eddie was entirely entranced by your touch.

You were so gentle with him, unnecessarily so, but he really didn’t mind. He lay his hand slack in yours, letting you pull at his fingers as you pleased, a peach painted nail tracing his life line, his love line, the cracks in his knuckles.

He was sure he was blushing, pink creeping at his cheeks at such an innocent touch. He thought you were lovely, he thought you were completely adorable. And he decided to tell you as such, arms wrapped around your middle as he pulled you tighter into him, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, grinning when you ducked your chin shyly.

You turned, one of his big hands still caught between your own, and rewarded him with a kiss, a soft push of your mouth that trapped his bottom lip between yours. He swore you tasted like sugar, like cherry soda and the skittles that Lucas had been pouring into your palm.

He knew you were growing tired when you let yourself lean into him more, your back against his chest and the boy made a soft noise of happiness, nosing at your neck, dropping another kiss there, smiling down at your joined hands. You traced a heart on his palm, grinned when he replied with a sloppy smiley face on your thigh. 

Neither of you noticed Nancy turning to you, hands on her hips and asking how many people could fit in Eddie’s van. It took her asking the boy twice before he heard her, cheeks red, eyes wide and didn’t have the heart to pull his hands away from you to flip Steve off when he sniggered.

#eddie munson #eddie baby blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb

[sacredthefran]

Cream & Sugar Pt 7 teaser

Pairing: Jake Kiszka + Female Reader 

Warnings: Sugar Daddy

Authors Notes: soooooo this isn’t really the first half of pt 7…it’s more like a long teaser :) also Happy Late Birthday Aaliyah 🧡

“Ouch.”

Looking into the mirror that is placed delicately on the dresser in front of you - meeting the eyes of the long haired man standing in the doorway.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your back.” Jake pushed himself off the doorframe and slowly made his way over to you. “I guess I really did a number on you last night.”

“Oh these little things?” Turning around so your back was facing the mirror, moving your hand in a motion gesturing towards the blue spots that were kissing your skin.

You arched your back gently as he pressed a digit into painted skin, hissing softly as he gave you a small smirk.

“Yeah, these little things.”

“Well if I remember correctly, I believe it was the door that did this.”

Looking into the coffee irises that you have become very fond of before looking over your shoulder, smiling to yourself as you recalled the night prior where Jacob had you bent over - face pressed against the door as his hands ran over your back endlessly.

————-

“What part of ‘drop it’ do you not understand?”

Fuck. You were positive your eyes were the size of golf balls, you started off with the whole ‘Killing my boss’ thing as a joke but once you saw it start to ignite a fire in Jake’s eyes - you couldn’t help yourself. There’s just something about him when he gets angry that draws you in - it makes you want him even more.

You stood silently for a couple of minutes just watching the way his back would tighten and then relax with every movement of his shoulders - the black linen shirt hugging him tight, showing every muscle on his frame. Jake pounded his fist on the door before pushing himself off of it, slowly turning around, making every inch of air you had in your body leave.

Maybe it was the squeak that left your body with the air or maybe it was your doe eyed look, Jake couldn’t help but to tilt his head back and let out a cackle.

“You’re so fucking hilarious. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Jake paused for a minute, waiting for you to respond to his anger with your own.

“What? Now you have nothing to say? You gave me such an attitude at the table. Now, you’re silent.”

Jake went silent again only to be met with the sounds of you guys taking deep breaths - him out of anger and you out of anticipation for what was coming next.

“Speak y/n.”

“I’m not a dog Jake.” You bite back at him in a sharp tone.

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me, based on the way you do whatever I want whenever I say. Except you still have this one little habit that I can’t seem to break you of.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t know when to shut your fucking mouth.”

“You know that’s not true.” You whispered, trying to find the little bit of courage that you had still stored in your body from moments prior.

“No, it is. You’re always trying to push my buttons and princess, you’ve sure perfected it.”

“Ja-”

“Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Are you going to be a good little girl and do that for me?” Jake made his way across the restroom, lifting up his hand to brush the hair away from the side of your neck before placing his hand on the nape of your neck.

Slowly nodding your head while maintaining eye contact with the man in front of you - scared to look away. You’ve seen Jake pissed before when it came to you ‘flirting’ with Danny, but this? This was something completely different.

“Good girl. Now, you see this right here?” He held up his black iPhone directly in your line of vision, waiting for you to give him a nod to confirm that you were staying right here in this moment with him.

“I’m going to use this little app right here and bring you to the brink of cumming, but I’m not going to let you. Only good girls deserve to cum.”

You wanted to believe that he was bluffing, but the buzz that started in between your legs just proved that he was telling the truth. Of course, Jake wouldn’t start the vibrations on a low level, he wanted to torture you - he loved the watching you squirm infront of him, the harsh vibration making your thighs jolt in surprise and your mouth parting slightly as a small whimper came out.

“Quiet, princess.” Jake mumbled watching your lips in particular almost as if he was in awe with the way your bottom lip would puff in and out as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Ja- Daddy. Please.”

“I thought, I told you to be quiet.” Jake huffed, giving you that smirk that always graced his face when you were in his presence.

“Please.” You whimpered out, biting your bottom lip, knowing that it was a weakness of his.

“Look at you.” He whispered - tugging your lip out of your mouth “I don’t even have it on the highest setting and you’re already losing it.”

You got this y/n. Just keep eye contact with him and he won’t suspect a thing. You repeated that sentence over and over again, hoping that it wasn’t obvious to Jake that you were on the brink of an orgasm.

“Nope, no you don’t. Panties off now.”

Fuck of course he caught on to what I was doing.

“Oh, so you’re deaf now? Take off the panties.” Jake growled out, becoming annoyed once again by your defiance.

“I swear to God. I can’t wait ‘till we’re back home. I can’t wait ruin you, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you forget your name. Turn around.”

You were frozen in your spot - almost as if someone had glued the bottom of your Louboutin’s to the burgundy tile that made the floor of this restroom that Jake seemed so eager to fuck you in.

With a final huff, Jake grabbed your arm, turning you around so the front of your body was pressed firmly against the wall.

“Since you seem to have a hard time following directions, I’ll do it for you.” Jake hissed in your ear as he lifted up the back of your yellow sundress, fingers dipping into the sides of the black fabric, pulling it away and then letting it snap back onto your skin, before slowly inching them off your body.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know you were about to cum? Baby, I know all the signs your body gives to me. I don’t have to be in your tight little cunt to know when you’re about to cum.”

“Da- '' You were quickly cut off by Jake, him sucking his teeth at you disapprovingly.

“Shut up. I didn’t tell you to speak. Where was I? Oh, that’s right. Your inner thighs always twitch when you start to get close, your bottom lip starts trembling, and your eyes - God, your eyes. They start to gloss over while you stare at me with that innocent look you always have.”

Jake speaks into your ear, watching in amusement as his hot breath hits your cartilage, causing your body to shudder. That was one thing you noticed early on about Jake, he always seemed to find pleasure with watching you react to him. Everytime you guys would fuck, you noticed how his eyes would gloss over with lust as he saw your breathing change and when he felt your heartbeat fastening. If you were to be honest with yourself - you would admit that deep down inside you got off on him getting off on the way you looked.

“Turn around.”

Jake moved a couple of inches backwards, giving you the space to turn around, slowly moving your eyes to meet his gaze. Anger looks good on him, thinking to yourself that this version of him right now is something that you will always want to keep engraved into your brain.

“I’m going to fuck you right now. It’s going to be hard and fast, I need you to stay quiet for me. You got that princess?”

The man in front of you sneered out - holding himself up by the one hand that is placed parallel to your right ear - as Jake holds your gaze, eyes searching yours constantly to make sure you understand every word he’s saying.

“You know I need words, baby.” Jake mumbled out as you nodded your head.

“Yes Jake.”

Letting out a small squeal as Jake landed a harsh blow to your right ass cheek, fuck that’s going to leave a mark.

“I said I understood.” You quirked your eyebrows back at him, surprising yourself with the new found boldness that was in your chest.

“Watch your fucking tone. You know how to address me. Do it correctly.”

“Yes Daddy. I understand perfectly. Crystal clear.”

“I was going to let you cum this time, looks like that’s not happening now.”

Your mouth falling open in shock as Jake raised his eyebrows at you. It’s been a month since you’ve had any sort of relief. Due to the rules of a specific claus in the contract - it stated that you were not allowed to perform the act of masturbating without Jacob T. Kiszka present. Sure, you tried to do it on countless nights when he was busy. But, in true Jake fashion, he would always call you right when you are nestled in bed with your favorite candle lit, running your freshly shaven legs against your satin sheets - feeling moisture in between your legs rising.

“What have I told you about having your mouth open?”

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