not even going anon for this. horny on main always pls. offering a lil Rolan headcanon I've been stewing on recently. I plan to make something of it eventually, but perhaps you can drabble from it now to sate me :)

Rolan is usually one to prefer softer sex - unending eye contact, kisses, more "romantic" positions.

Tav finally convinces him to take her from behind, and he's hesitant at first - until the sight of him unleashes something filthy and primal within him. It's as if he snaps, quickly shifting from slow, hesitant movements to desperate thrusts filled with raw desire. Soft kisses along her neck turn into love nips and then full on mating bites as her hips arch back into his - yeah. Just full on, animalistic urges, breathy grunts in her ear, Rolan 🥲🥵

AHHHHH making a usually soft man absolutely feral? Yes please 🥵

From Behind

It wasn’t that Tav was disappointed in her and Rolan's sex life. No it was quite the opposite actually. Rolan was a more than attentive lover, always taking into consideration Tav’s pleasure over his own. Always making sure that she reached her peak at least once before he even considered climbing towards his own.

Whilst in town one evening, shopping for a particular book, Tav had overheard a rather, intimate natured conversation that two women were whispering and giggling over.

“-from behind? And does it feel any different?”

“Oh quite! Much better if you ask me. Hits that spot almost every time.” The woman murmured to her friend whose face held utter astonishment.

“I’ll have to see if Maldor would be willing to try.”

Tav’s face blushed a deep color at the realization of just what the the two women had been chatting about. She quickly grabs what she was looking for, pays and leaves, face never changing shade from the deep flush from earlier.

Later that night, as Tav tucks into bed beside Rolan, and settles in to sleep, the wizard rolls over to pull her back against his chest like usual. Tav's breath hitches when his hips settle against her ass, her mind immediately shifting to what she had overheard at the shops.

"Are you alright?" Rolan leans up on his elbow, eyes looking over her to check for discomfort.

Tav startles at the sound of his almost gruff voice, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm alright."

"You're quite skittish, dear, did I do something to upset you?" the wizard gently pushes on her shoulder, getting her to roll over onto her back so he can get a good look at her face.

Her face which is flushed all over again, with eyes that are pointedly trying not to meet Rolan's.

Rolan moves his hand away from her shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries, even if he's unaware of any. Tav worries her bottom lip with her teeth, before meeting his concerned gaze.

"No, no you didn't do anything, my love. Just a long day is all." the lie leaves her mouth suspiciously quick, and Rolan notices the way she nervously swallows after speaking it.

"Tav, if you need your space, I am more than happy to give it to yo-"

"It's not that!" she cuts him off, "I just thought of something... specific, when you, well, you pressed against my ass."

The tiefling raises a brow at her, "What- Tav what are you talking about?" He's utterly confused at the way she's stumbling over her words over something so simple.

Tav sighs in defeat and avoids Rolan's gaze while speaking her next words, "While at the shop this evening, I overheard two women talking about their, well... intimate lives. And well, one of them mentioned how good it feels to be- well, to be taken from behind." She finishes and takes a breath before meeting his eyes once again.

"Is that something you'd like to try?" he asks so casually that it throws Tav off for a moment. Rolan was one who preferred more intimate positions, usually favoring missionary. He liked being able to watch Tav's features as they contorted with pleasure and reacted to his ministrations, liked being able to lock eyes with her as she came apart around him.

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it, I suppose. Only if you would be okay with it of cour-mmph." Rolan's lips meet Tav's in an abrupt kiss, affectively cutting off her anxious rambling.

"I am more than willing to try this with you, dear." he mumbles between kisses, his hand beginning to roam down her side to rest on her hip.

Tav deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to meet his, her hands coming up to rest on the ridged planes of his chest. Her fingers trace over the infernal ridges, before coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. She gasps into Rolan's mouth when she feels his fingers trail down her belly, toying at the edge of her panties, before dipping inside and gathering her wetness on his middle finger.

"So wet already. Just from the thought of me fucking you." he murmurs against her jaw, kissing along the bone.

"Please-" Tav begs. For what? She's not entirely sure.

"So needy." Rolan teases as he swipes his finger in little circles around her throbbing clit. His rhythm steady, his touch light. Tav's thighs tense, then instinctively fall open a bit more, the sensation almost too much.

"Want you to come for me before I fuck you from behind, can you do that for me?" he whispers against her lips, finger dipping to her fluttering hole, wetting itself to continue circling her.

"Mmhm." Tav whines desperately, her own fingers clasping around his forearm, already climbing to her peak. It's not long before her thighs begin to shake, her core clenching as she tumbles over the ledge. She throws her head back as Rolan finally dips two of his fingers into her spasming cunt. He fucks her through her orgasm, lips pressing wet kisses to her exposed throat, whispering praises against the taut skin.

"Always so good for me. Now I want you on your knees sweetheart." He holds a hand out for her to take as she lifts to her wobbly knees. As she kneels before him, he gets into position behind her.

One clawed hand traces up Tav's spine, making it's way up to the back of her neck to grip and push her down into place. Her elbows meet the mattress. A shocked sound huffs past Tav's lips, and Rolan's hands caress over her hips, kneading the plush flesh lovingly.

He reaches down, taking his length in hand, he drags the tip through her wet folds.

"Are you ready to take me, dear?" he asks lovingly, notching his head in her entrance. Tav nods, looking back over her shoulder to meet his amber gaze.

When he pushes into her, she gasps. The head of him instantly brushing against that sweet spot nestled deep inside her. Rolan bends forward, an arm scooping around Tav's middle to pull her up against his chest. His thrusts pick up speed, his hips rutting into her frantically.

"Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?" he almost hisses the words. The hand wrapped around Tav, gropes at her breasts, squeezing the flesh and teasing at her peaked nipples.

"Yes yes yes." Tav chants breathily as he relentlessly pounds into her g-spot. She can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.

"Gonna fill you up like this. Gonna fill you with my cum." Rolan groans into her neck, his free hand coming up to rest on her belly. "I'm so close."

"Come in me. Please, I wanna feel you fill me." Tav whimpers, holding onto his forearms.

With a guttural moan, Rolan releases into Tav, his seed flooding her walls being the thing that triggers her own orgasm.

Rolan thrusts a couple of more times, riding out their highs, before gently pulling out of her. He takes her into his arms, carefully laying her down to rest. Tav lays her head on his chest, making attempts to catch her breath.

"So, was it what you hoped it would be?" Rolan laughs as he tries to catch his own.

"Everything and more." Tav dopily smiles.

Fashion/Style Tips for the Rising Signs 👠

These is a gender-neutral post, by the way. Anyone can be a fashionista: male, female or non-binary

The Rising sign is the key to maximizing and defining your personal style. While Venus shows the way you'll want to feel in your clothes or put them together, your Rising sign indicates the kind of styling you'll like best/look best in and the aesthetic that is fit for you

(All the famous fashion icons in these gifs have these respective Rising signs, btw)

ARIES RISING

Fashion tip: Be bold

Aries Risings look best when they're wearing things that most people would not have the confidence to wear. Daring pieces and ensembles fit you like a glove, whether you are showing some skin or just pushing the edge of accepted taste. Something that could possibly look like a tragedy on someone else but that actually looks good when you wear it. You find your fashion sense when you take risks, which may end up starting trends. But, please, don't follow any trends yourself. You are meant to set the trends, honey!

An athletic or athleisure look would also be perfect for you. Sweatpants or track-pants aren't bummy on you. Aries Risings shine when they look like they just left the gym or are just going to the gym. Y2K fashion is coming back so, ladies, you would really rock a Juicy tracksuit (If you're old enough, maybe you did back in the day!) Regardless of your gender, adding a masculine touch to your ensemble will really make it pop. Also, red is your power color! Red pieces, red shoes/bottoms, red hair. It's bound to be memorable.

TAURUS RISING

Fashion tip: Keep it simple

Taurus Risings look their best when their ensembles aren't flashy or busy. Less is more for this very casual placement. But, we're talking "chic casual". Maybe some low-key jewelry added but that's it. You could make a simple jeans and t-shirt outfit look impressive. As long as you're comfortable, you're good. Yet, it is very important that your clothes fit you perfectly. If the proportions are off, your discomfort will be obvious and it just won't look right. So, try everything on before you buy it! Know your measurements and, if you can afford it, get some of your clothes tailored.

Surprisingly, Taurus Risings aren't huge on labels. As the pragmatist you are, you will often thrift before you buy designer. Quality is VERY important to you and you have a radar for cheap or low-quality fabric. You would prefer to avoid fast fashion brands. You never, ever want to look cheap, even if you only spent a few dollars on the 'fit. But, if you do want to spend a little, you would look amazing in anything silk, wool, cashmere, velvet or fur. Fabric that is sensual or luxurious or elegant was made for you. The same goes for anything floral.

GEMINI RISING

Fashion tip: Don't be dull

Gemini is one of the Rising signs that can get away with a lot more because your style is best when it's interesting. And when observing your fashion choices, some may say "interesting" in a shade-throwing way. But, it's better than being boring! Gemini Risings look best in the clothes they choose on a whim. Don't nail yourself down to one aesthetic. You can dabble in SO many different looks and pull them off. You also can be very trendy, always in touch with what's currently happening. You wouldn't dare keep last season's shoes in your closet. You also just get bored easily with old clothes. So, you might have quite the shopping habit to satisfy your current tastes.

Gemini Rising has the most fun with fashion when developing a sort of character through it. Are you the wild bohemian or the serious professional today? You can take it to the level of a borderline Halloween costume. You know how to adapt and shape-shift, style wise, based on the situation. You've got range, okay? And you will embrace all the accessories and colors that come with it. You will also definitely be someone who has sped through so many different looks and hairstyles in their life, to the point where you look like different people. When looking back at photos of your old self, you may cringe especially hard or just laugh and say, "I was working those bangs, wasn't I?"

CANCER RISING

Fashion tip: Stick to what you know

What a Cancer Rising's actual look is will vary significantly. It has to be a style or aesthetic that is very personal; something that means a lot to them or that they're very comfortable in. But, whatever it is, you shouldn't stray too far from it. This Rising sign can play it safe with style but that doesn't have to be a negative. You just know what works. It ain't broken and you're not trying to fix it. You might also go through distinct phases where you are rocking a particular look for a long time and then you decide it's time to change. Your clothes are a direct reflection of how you're feeling.

Due to your love of comfort, you might be especially fond of sweaters. The bigger and cozier the better. Wintertime may be your favorite time because you enjoy wearing multiple layers. Cancer Risings LOVE coats and jackets, particularly the ones that they've had for years and hold sentimental value. It's hard for you to toss out old clothes, in general. You also look great in anything retro or vintage. It's that attachment to the past. Fashion from decades prior cycle back around eventually but you're usually ahead of the curve, already wearing that old stuff. You might be especially attached to styles from your younger days or from a certain time period in your life

LEO RISING

Fashion tip: Make a statement

Leo Risings are capable of using fashion as an ideal vehicle for self-expression. Ideally, when you walk into a room, you want your ensemble to get attention. Now, that doesn't mean choose pieces that are loud or flashy or gaudy, even though some Leo Risings go that route. More so, it's about making sure that your clothes pop, that they really stand out. You look your best when you are the definition of "fashion statement" and that takes a great deal of confidence. Your clothes definitely need to wear you, not the other way around. Whatever you wear will work if you make it distinctive.

There are so many style choices that could work for you. Bold statement tees, for instance, are right up your alley. (Think Regina George's "a little bit dramatic" shirt in Mean Girls) But, you could also glam yourself up. You were meant to dress up, to possibly overdress for certain occasions. Not necessarily formal; more so polished or glossy. You would be that person to show up in a fancy 'fit to a casual event and some might hate but they'd low-key admire it. Also, you don't feel your best without the right pieces of shiny jewelry. And you would shine in colors like yellow, gold or orange.

VIRGO RISING

Fashion tip: It's all in the details

As a Virgo Rising, you maximize your style when you pay attention to the details. The way everything is matching, the color of your nail polish (if you wear it), the fabric of your shirt, the fit of your pants. You look best when you put a lot of thought into your style, including your hair. Often, especially your hair. Virgo Risings rock the hell out of the "messy hair" look because it is very strategically messy. Even when you look like you're not trying, fashion-wise, there is a lot of time and effort behind it. On the flip side, you might actually roll out of bed and throw something on. But, somehow, when you do, you do it perfectly.

This is another placement where it is crucial for you to get clothes that fit you like a glove. The more form-fitting, the better. But, of course, not too tight, either! Baggy clothes would only work for you if that's the exact aesthetic you're going for. Speaking of which, you can master an aesthetic, once you choose one. You commit fully. The "clean girl" or "hot nerd" vibes would fit you most obviously, along with neutral or earthy colors like white, brown and green. But, you're also a style chameleon! Many with this Rising can wear androgynous pieces and styles extremely well. You might really impress by taking a generally masculine ensemble and adding a feminine piece or vice versa.

LIBRA RISING

Fashion tip: Just look pretty

Surprisingly, Libra Risings can be very hit or miss when it comes to style. They're either impeccably dressed or look like they got into a fight with their closet and lost. However, the face card never declines! So, if all else fails, you're still going to look cute. Your looks either elevate your outfit or save it. What might look ugly on someone else has a certain charm when you wear it. Yet, many Libra Risings will have a Cher Horowitz kind of vibe: very stylish and chic in a way that is aspirational. You could really, really love fashion. You absorb a lot of current trends yet you could also become a bit of a trendsetter as people will find your wardrobe so aesthetically pleasing.

You could really benefit from having the input of someone you trust when it comes to clothes, whether that's a stylist or a very fashionable bestie or partner. Your shopping ventures are most successful when they're undertaken with someone else. Also, whenever there is a dress code, whether it's for a social event or on the job, Libra Risings will fully understand the assignment. You thrive by adding a more feminine touch to what you're wearing. For women, that could mean Barbiecore, being very girly or glossy/glittery/sparkly. Tomboys can have this placement but they doll up VERY well. And the men can get super-polished, wear pieces with a more feminine flair or even, in select cases, certain clothing meant for women. Both genders look amazing in pink.

SCORPIO RISING

Fashion tip: Get a reaction

Scorpio Rising people look best in clothes or looks that are going to have a strong impact. Whatever you're wearing, it works best when it makes an intense impression. Kind of like Leo Rising but they are more about glam, pizzazz, expression. With you, it's more about taking it to an extreme. Your style could be incredibly out there or provocative. It might also be more low-key but you impress most when your fashion gets a rise out of others. Whether it's by having a dramatic and severe style, going totally monochromatic or giving very sexy looks, you have the power to stop others in their tracks with your clothes.

There are so many directions you can go in. Every Scorpio Rising's look will wildly differ because every day is like Halloween for you. I said the same about Gemini Rising but it's more lighthearted and playful with them. You can truly use clothes as a disguise. It's sort of your armor, which is why dressing sexy or showing skin is such a power move for you. Stereotypically, there is the goth look or the witchy aesthetic. But, this Rising sign has range. You can also shine in any type of power suit, emulate the mystique of Old Hollywood or, honestly, sell virtually any aesthetic since you will commit 110 percent. Of course, black is your power color and you look damn good in lace, leather, mesh or any type of boots. So, find a way to work those things into your ensemble.

SAGITTARIUS RISING

Fashion tip: Be like a rock star

Sagittarius Rising looks best when not feeling hemmed in by other people's fashion rules and regulations. A carefree approach works very well for you, fashion-wise. When in doubt, ask yourself what a rock star would wear. That may lead to some questionable or messy choices, in others' eyes. But, you really pull it off! And even if you land on someone's Worst Dressed list, it doesn't matter much to you. Many people with this Rising sign really don't care much about fashion to begin with. And the ones who do know that a true fashionista takes risks and that is not always going to be loved by everyone. Whatever! Better luck next time.

You might be able to find your style by using a particular rock star as inspiration. It's no surprise that a lot of Sagittarius Risings prefer or look better in casual wear. But, it's more so casual with an edge, not just a shirt and jeans. You can feel very inspired by edgy street style and go in that direction. You're very adventurous with clothes and willing to try a lot of things once. The 1970's hippie/bohemian aesthetic would look really good on you. Instead of a power color, you can make the biggest impression in any kind of animal print: snakeskin, zebra stripes, cheetah print. Even those tropical-type/Hawaiian prints could work. What would be tacky on someone else could look oddly appealing on you.

CAPRICORN RISING

Fashion tip: The world is your catwalk

First of all, so much of Capricorn Rising style comes from having a commanding presence. Being able to walk into a room and shift it, make people sit up. This attitude will only make your clothes more impressive. You need to think of yourself as a fierce 90's supermodel, just in terms of elegance and presence. If you don't have that type of confidence, work on it! Put effort into how you carry yourself, into being graceful yet strong, having a powerful walk. As you evolve into this majestic being, it will elevate whatever you wear. You make the clothes but the clothes also make you.

Like an iconic supermodel, you're most impressive in clothes that convey status or class. If you've got the coins, you will want the luxury brands: Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Armani, so on. If you don't, you will have a store or brand that is your version of Gucci. You're practical but don't like cheap clothes. You want to feel sophisticated. Capricorn Rising style is about developing a particular "uniform". Although some may thrive in formal/professional attire or a business-casual vibe, others can go in less traditional directions. In any case, you have very strict fashion rules you abide by. You look best in black, grey or beige. It's a rather basic color palette to many but you just find it to be a classic look.

AQUARIUS RISING

Fashion tip: Be experimental

As an Aquarius Rising, you develop a sense of style by treating fashion like an endless experiment. You can be very innovative and inventive when it comes to your looks, from your ensembles to your accessories to your hair. I would say "don't be afraid to be different" but you've already mastered that! Most of your looks will be applauded, not ridiculed, for their uniqueness or riskiness and may even be highly imitated. This is definitely another "style icon" placement. The thing that makes it work is your free spirit, your casual poise, and disinterest in impressing anyone with your style. You're not trying to be cool and that's what makes you one of the coolest people in the room.

I hesitate to recommend an aesthetic to you because you would find that kind of... inauthentic. No offense to anyone else but that just feels like trying too hard to you. You wear whatever you want and there may be no predictable pattern. Also, you absolutely HATE looking like anyone else (which is why it may be a little frustrating if/when others copy you). So, if you do adopt an aesthetic, it will be your own uniquely invented one. You are most striking in blue or silver but Aquarius Risings have also been known to impressively rock neons or other quirky colors. Some of them may just give a James Dean-like plain tee and jeans look, as if they are too cool to care about clothes. But, they look best when wearing pieces that really stand out, whether it be futuristic, couture or casual glam

PISCES RISING

Fashion tip: Go with the flow

Pisces Risings maximize their fashion sense by embracing the current mood. And this doesn't necessarily mean your mood, although it can. You have the ability to be a sponge for current trends, reflecting whatever is happening at the moment. Therefore, if you're into fashion, you can make a big impression because you are like an embodiment of what's in season. As a result, you might do a lot of shopping in order to keep up. Or you could go the easier route and simply embrace the flow of your fashion taste. This could make you invariably casual, even when the situation is more formal, or give you a different fashion sense every time you step outside.

Yes, Pisces Rising people often need some help in the fashion department, sometimes desperately. This is why it may be easier for you to wear what you know is "in". However, many with this placement are capable of carving out their own look. Often times, the "flower child" or New Age aesthetic works well, complete with actual flowers or crystals as accessories. You can find a way to turn your ethereal charm into a fashion statement. When in doubt, style yourself like an angel, an elf or a fairy. But, you also have what it takes to shape-shift into any style you want. To you, clothes are meant to be disappeared into. Any shade of purple, the color of the third eye and crown chakras, would look amazing on you. Also, you look really good in sandals, flip-flops or any open-toed shoes, which you will love wearing to the point that you might have to remind yourself that there's a time and place

///////

Thanks for stopping by! You can check out more of my posts and readings here:

MASTER LIST

sugar 'n cream

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings:

18+ !!! minors dni please !!! smut, messy blowjobs, f!masturbation, tooth-rotting fluff, writing soft!husband!joel has become my brand at this point, pet names (angel, baby, perfect girl), lmk if i missed anything :)

You’ve fallen into a routine of waking up to the smell of brewing coffee every sunday morning.

Today is no different. Your eyelids flutter open gently, the burnt, earthy smell climbing upstairs to your bedroom. 

You linger in it, let yourself sink deeper into the white sheets as the scent envelops you, the familiarity of it feeling like a warm embrace. 

You can’t help but smile. You know he’s downstairs, probably pouring the dark coffee into two separate mugs; one for each of you. He knows exactly how you like your coffee, but he never gets it quite right. 

You love him for that. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your knuckles, you begin to get up, the sheets rustling and twisting beneath you as you do. The floor tiles are cool against your bare feet, jolting you further awake as you tiptoe downstairs, hand lightly grazing the railing.

He’s there— broad shoulders facing you, muscles moving beneath his shirt as he pours the last drops of coffee into one of two mugs on the counter. You see him eye the sugar, contemplating whether or not to attempt sweetening your drink just how you like it. It makes you smile. 

You decide to help him solve the dilemma, walking towards him. 

He’s so warm. You feel the heat he radiates before you even wrap your arms around his waist, pressing a sweet kiss between his shoulder blades before resting your forehead there. He hums, and the vibration of it sends shivers throughout your whole body, you’re sure you feel him in your bones. 

“Mornin’, Baby,” Joel says softly. You hum in acknowledgement, unmoving from your position against his body, whining in protest when he tries to change positions. He chuckles, gruff and hearty, and you give in, loosening your grip on him. He turns over in your arms as he leans his back against the counter, and you lean your chin on his chest, looking up at him. He’s smiling at you, and it’s so soft and sweet, you’re sure your heart is going to burst out of your chest. 

Joel ducks his head down and kisses you, one big hand coming up to cup your cheek. A content sigh leaves your throat, and you feel him smile against your lips as his thumb softly caresses your cheekbone. 

You miss the warmth of his mouth as soon as you break apart. You grumble, your head nestling against his chest, ear against his thrumming heart. 

“Wanted to wake you up with coffee in bed,” Joel says. “Been workin’ real hard this week, Baby. Thought you could use the extra sleep.” He’s right, of course. He always is. He knows you so well, your Joel, always attentive, listening to your constant rambling and ranting as he holds you close to him on the couch after every long day. He’s so sweet, so good to you. 

You lean up, kissing him once again, this time shorter and sweeter. 

“I love you,” You tell him, because it’s true. He smiles, tugging you a little bit closer to him. 

“Never know how much sugar to put in your coffee, Baby,” Joel tells you. You huff out a laugh, reluctantly pulling yourself away from his body to pull out a milk carton from the fridge. You feel Joel’s gaze on you, burning a hole through your head as you pour the milk into your coffee, the dark brown shade of it softening to a lighter, caramel-like color.  

Before you can reach for the drawer to pull out a spoon for the sugar, Joel’s handing you one. It’s a normal teaspoon, but it looks comically small in his large hand. You take it from him, mumbling a thank you, Baby as you sweeten your coffee. His hand, the one that was handing you a spoon a moment ago, falls to the small of your back, and you revel under his touch. The two of you take a sip of your coffee simultaneously, and you smile into the mug as both of you find the other’s eyes. 

__ __ __

Joel likes his coffee black, black, black. You don’t understand why someone would choose to drink something that tastes like charcoal and burnt shit out of their own free will, but right now, as you kiss him, your tongue against his, you think you might not mind the flavor. 

He’s got you pushed up against the counter, marble digging into your lower back as he trails open-mouthed kisses up and down the column of your throat. His hands rest on either side of your hips, thumbs drawing circles on your waist. You’re breathing him in, holding the back of his head in the palm of your hand as his mouth nips and licks at your throat, kissing every sliver of bare skin his lips can find. Lost in the moment, you let your mind go completely blank with nothing but Joel.

Your man.

Your big, strong, capable man, always so good to you, so selfless. You know for a fact that he’d give you the world— he’s just waiting for you to ask him to. 

Your body moves on instinct, sinking to your knees before you even realize what you’re doing. Worshiping Joel is muscle memory at this point. Your hands travel up and down the outsides of his thighs, the fabric of his jeans rough and dry against the palms of your hands. You had asked him once, who the hell wears Jeans on their day off? He’d just huffed out a laugh and kissed you sweetly, and that was the end of the conversation.

Your fingers work at his belt, shakily unbuckling it, pulling it loop by loop before letting it fall to the floor beside you. Joel is looking down at you, eyes wide and dark and full of love and everything else that’s unsaid. His hand cups your face and you melt into his touch, nuzzling against him like a housecat basking in the warmth of a fireplace. 

“Baby,” Joel says from where he stands above you. His voice rasps around every vowel, lust dripping from it like honey. “Y’don’t gotta do that, c’mere. I’ll make you feel real good, Darlin’. Let me make you feel good.” You smile up at him, at your man, always putting your pleasure before his own. You shake your head softly, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Wanna make you feel good, Joel.” You say as you work the zipper down. His eyes never leave yours. Not as his pants fall around his ankles, or as you plant a kiss on his tan thigh. Not even as you palm his half-hard cock through his boxers, cupping him through the fabric. 

“Always taking such good care of me,” You say as you begin to pull his boxers down, kissing the newly revealed skin of his soft tummy. “Let me return the favor.” You keep tugging his boxers off slowly, pressing your lips softly to every inch of bare skin your greedy mouth can latch onto. You smile to yourself as you feel Joel’s breath hitching, the uneven rise and fall of his stomach against your curled lips. Your own breath catches in your throat as soon as Joel’s boxers fall to his ankles, his cock standing hard and proud before you, a bead of precum on the tip. 

This isn’t anything new. You and Joel have been together for a long time now, finally tying the knot last autumn after dating for five years. He takes such good care of you, showing his love in ways that range from sending you pictures of every heart-shaped object he comes across, to fucking you deep into the mattress until you’re screaming out his name. But still, you almost never get to love on him like you wish you could. He’s always so preoccupied with making you feel good, he doesn't realize that seeing him come undone for you has your sweet cunt clenching around nothing. 

You reposition yourself on your knees, making yourself as comfortable as the cold tile will allow, before taking Joel’s cock in your hand. He groans at the contact, your warm hand closing tightly around the thick base of him. The sound spurs you on, and you lean in to press a sweet kiss to the leaking tip. Joel’s hand flies to your hair, fisting it tightly. 

“Shit, Angel,” His voice is deep and gruff. You keep pressing feather-light kisses along the length of his dick, riling him up. “Fuck, go easy on me, Baby. Don’t tease me— shit,” You take him into your mouth, lips wrapping around the tip of his cock, tongue rubbing the sweet spot right beneath the head. The groan that Joel lets out is so primal and animalistic, you’re sure it’s been brewing in his chest for a while now. His hips stutter as he holds himself back from fucking your throat, and you take him deeper, mind hazy with the need to make him feel good, craving his sweet moans and groans. 

Joel is muttering about your perfect lips, and about what a good girl you are, taking him so well. His praise spurs you on, has you moaning and humming around his cock. 

But it’s not enough. You need more of him.

You pull your lips off of his dick with a wet pop! sound, spit dripping down your chin. Joel loosens his grip on your hair, confused. 

“Want you to fuck my throat,” You blurt out bluntly. Joel’s eyes go wide at your request. 

“Fuck– R’you sure?”He asks. You nod enthusiastically. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” He says, a little softer. His hand comes to rest on your cheek, his eyes wide with affection and worry. You hum, nuzzling into his touch, a smirk gracing your lips.

“Someone’s self absorbed,” You joke. Joel snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Goddamn smartass,” He replies, and you laugh. You press a light kiss to his lower tummy, his pubic hair scratching against your skin, before looking back up to him with a soft smile.

“M’serious,” You tell him. “Want you. Want all of you.” Joel inhales deeply.

“My perfect fuckin’ girl,” He says, and you beam. And after a moment– “Shit, yeah, okay.” It’s all the confirmation you need before taking him into your mouth once more, cheeks hollowing as you relish in his bitter flavor. Joel’s hand finds the back of your head once again, pulling you closer to him until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. His nostrils flare as he grunts, eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but moan at the intimacy of it, at the warm weight of him against your tongue. 

You can tell your sounds spur him on, giving him more confidence as he bucks his hips against you, making you choke around his cock. 

He looks so beautiful like this, with his tousled hair and his coffee-brown eyes watching you in awe, you can’t help but let your hand slide down beneath the waistband of your panties, fingers running through your slick folds, drawing small circles on your clit. 

He looks like an Adonis, like an ancient Greek statue carved from the finest marble. You run a hand up and down his thick thigh, your other hand still toying with your cunt. You sink a finger into your dripping hole, making you moan even more enthusiastically as you bob your head up and down Joel’s cock. He’s close and you know it, the rhythm of his hips uneven as he fucks into your mouth. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth slightly agape and yes, he looks so handsome like this, you feel yourself clenching around your finger before slipping another one into your tight hole. Joel’s always been better at this than you, his fingers thicker and longer, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You can’t help but wish it was him, fucking you deep and slow, thumb circling your clit while two fingers pump deep inside your pussy, making you gush and cream around him. But no, this is about him, now. You swirl your tongue around his heavy cock, pulling your head back slightly to suck at the sensitive tip. Joel lets out a broken moan before pulling you against him, your nose against his soft belly. It’s a sweet burn. He’s so big, you feel tears beginning to blur your vision as you breathe deeply through your nose. 

He finally lets you break away, and you gasp for air. You smile up at him, practically glowing, the hand that was previously buried between your plush thighs comes back up to stroke him, the mix of your spit and your juices coating his dick as your hand tugs at him. 

“Want you to come in my mouth,” You say, before pressing a soft kiss to the side of the shaft. “Wanna taste you.” Joel curses under his breath, something you can’t quite make out. You smirk, before taking him into your mouth again.

“Girl of my- fuck- girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” He says, and you hum around him. He gives two hard thrusts into your tight throat, before his hips still completely as he comes. You’re pressed against him, your eyes screwed shut as you focus on breathing through your nose, not wanting to break away before you get to taste all of him, every last drop on your tongue.

Joel’s hips jerk as his cum paints the velvet walls of your mouth. The flavor of him is bitter and salty, something you can’t quite put into words. 

Something that’s all Joel, all yours.

You slowly pull your mouth off of his softening cock, swallowing every last drop of his release, all while never breaking eye contact. Joel’s breathing is heavy and his eyes are wide, watching your every move with utter fascination and adoration. You give him a small smile as he brings his thumb to the corner of your lip, swiping up a leftover drop of his come and pushing it slowly into your mouth. It’s a welcome intrusion, and you wrap your lips around the finger immediately, tongue circling the pad of it. Joel grunts, before helping you up so that you’re standing again and kissing you deeply, has hand on the back of your head. You can’t help but smile into the kiss.

He still tastes like coffee. He tastes like coffee and Joel and a hint of you, reminding you he’s all yours.

“I love you,” You tell him, and he smiles.

“Love you too, Angel,” He replies. “Fuck, love you so goddamn much.”

__ __ __

whew! this one took a while to write cause i was sick for the longest time and couldn't really think about sucking dick...

thank you for reading!! i'd love to hear what you thought, and constructive criticism is always appreciated :)

picture I -- Spotify on Pinterest picture II -- TheLastredemption on Pinterest picture III -- вишневый котик on Pinterest

"Quit lookin' at me like that." He demands, accent growing thicker by the minute at his frustration.

"Like what?" You manage to gasp out, cheeks swollen and bloody at the beating you just took. Your hands are clasped together on your lap, forced to sir on your knees as you look up at him.

What stared back at you wasn't your loving Simon, no— this creature was much different. Ghost was glaring down at you, eyes cold and devoid of emotion other than pure, raw anger.

"Like a fuckin' lost puppy. Like you don't know what you did." His grip on the trigger tightens, holding the muzzle to your temple.

Please, tell me it isn't true. For the love of God, tell me it's all a lie.

"You leaked our information to fuckin' Konni?" He asks in disbelief, just wanting to confirm what he knew all along. It all connected once he found out; the late night escapades, the detached look in your eyes, how you kept missing every single celebration with the team claiming you were busy. Maybe if he noticed sooner, things would have been different.

Your silence and the way your head hangs low in shame is all the confirmation he needs. His gloved hand grips the pistol harder, the rough material almost merging with his skin.

You don't even have the courage to look at me.

"Everythin' we did together... I trusted you with my bloody life. I told you all my secrets and let you see all of me, and this is how you fuckin' pay me?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, three silenced gunshots ringing in his ears as he dumps the bullets into your chest, looking away before he hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the ground.

Goddammit. God damn it all to fucking hell.

Simon chokes on a harsh breath, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown underneath his balaclava, jaw slackening. He doesn't dare look at you, unwilling to let his last image of you be a pool of blood with dead eyes.

He cried all his tears when he was a little kid, yet he can somehow feel the familiar sting in his eyes, causing him to sigh loudly and shake his head. His pistol goes back in its holster as he turned to leave, not sparing you a single glance.

Dying alone is a scary thought. You come to the world in a room full of people, your mother's happy face looking at her own creation, nurses and doctors smiling and celebrating you even when all your tiny body can do is to cry.

The thought of death isn't what scares you, no. Being a soldier for the special forces only ends two ways: retirement or going home in a box. That's something you came to terms with a long time ago, when your much younger hand held the pen, signing the contract that sold your soul to your comrades, a silent eternal promise of "we fight together, and we die together".

Your shaky hands grasp at the snow as you drag yourself forward, gear all of sudden heavier than ever; crushing you down like Atlas holding the sky. Your blood leaves a dirty trail on the pure, clean snow, marking you down as an easy target if Simon decides to come back for you— you know Ghost won't.

By the time someone manages to find you, your fingers are purple and your lips are painted an awful shade of blue, body adorned with burns from the cold snow digging into your bare skin. You allow yourself to rest as soon as the warmth of someone's hand makes contact with your skin, barely able to register the panicked scream and loud orders being barked.

Labeled as a hero after saving the country from Makarov's terrorist attack, Simon sported a new brand of chest candy on his uniform. Colorful ribbons adorned the right side of his blazer. His chest is still puffed out with pride as he steps into his small flat in London, all memories of you thrown away, including the ring he kept hidden in a drawer.

''Cute shoulder pads.'' Your finger hovers above the trigger, finally stepping out of the dark.

ʬʬ. ! LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ﹙ THINK WE KISSED ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park jongseong with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `3377 warnings. lots of cursing! unedited.

JAY VER: mutual hate f2e JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER.

"what the fuck, piggy!" you feel jay's feet against the side of the waist before his voice reaches your ears. kicked out of bed and rolled onto the floor, that's how your mornings with jay start.

"what the hell is this!" he shouts again and when you turn to look at him you find yourself questioning the same,"what the hell is that!" a litter of pretty lipstick marks all over him, collarbones to neck to jaw to face. and keyword: lips.

"you tell me! what the hell does it look like?" if it were some other time you'd have laughed your ass off at the horrified look on his face, but the very familiar shade of color on him, the one you always wear because you're quite literally obsessed with it has you horrified as well at the realization. there's no way you did that, with park jay? no no no.

"don't tell me we-"

"i have my boxers on and you're still in that ugly fucking dress so no we did not," his words are like a shower of relief to you. however to jay, it is also something else. sure he is glad you did not do anything but that dress you have on? it's not ugly, it is everything but ugly. you look so pretty in it, like a doll and he thinks it's probably the reason why he let you kiss him all up.

"you better have something to say because i don't understand how this happened," his hands rub over the marks he can see while you sit on the floor trying to remember last night. you went to a college party, and you met jay there, and having the same group of mutual friends you remember playing drinking games. a shot of tequila when you refused to kiss jay for a dare and that's where your memory fails you.

"i don't remember," you say simply, watching jay get of bed and into the bathroom.

"i don't either so let's just call it truce and forget,"

sighing in resignation, you take a look around the room, going over to the mirror to scan yourself. there under the shadow of your ear you spot something purple, a touch and it hurt. pushing your hair out of the way, you take a closer look at it. pupils dilating upon the realization that it's a hickey. with a mortified look in your eyes, you pull down at the collar of your dress to find more. a litter of it mirroring jay's kiss marks. and when you shift on your legs to inspect the other side of your neck, you feel a sting on the skin of your thighs. no way no way please no. you pray as you lift the skirt of your dress, but it's all in vain for you find bruises on the plush of your thighs, in the shapes of handprints, one on each.

you scream. you scream scream and jay is rushing out with a towel hanging low on his waist,"what! what happened!"

there's no time to feel the heat in your cheeks at sight of his naked figure, you are too traumatized by the possibilities of the events that could have happened between you two to even acknowledge the pounding of your heart on noticing the droplets of water cascading down the valley of his chest.

you show him what you had to see and in comes a scream from him.

"oh my god, fuck off before we find more things!"

"missy piggy is all dressed up," he looked you up once, coming to a halt just a step away from where you sat at the kitchen counter turned bar. he couldn't deny you looked good though, he almost lost his breath when he spotted you across the room. there were some loopholes in this weird relationship you had and he couldn't seem to accept it. he found you attractive and he was disgusted with himself for that. out of all the fishes in the sea it just had to be you. his little weakness, the pretty dress.

you wave your hand at his face,"whatever," jay doesn't like the way you just dismiss him, closing in on you blocking your view of whichever guy you were eyeing. whichever guy was hot enough to have your attention away from him.

"you wanna play some games?" his hand goes over to circle the top of your cup, noticing the orange juice in there.

"what game?"

"truth and dare, all our friends are gathering there to play," he wasn't interested to join earlier, but watching you fixated on some guys is itching him to take you away and get your ass busy.

hours later and he's in a circle, all drunk sitting right across you. 'kiss kiss kiss!" the chants go around with the bottle stopped right between your two. if he'd been sober, he would've left the second someone proposed for a kiss but with his mind all hazy right now, all he can think about is how your lips would feel on his. if the pretty shade on them would taste as sweet as they look.

to say he was disappointed when you chose to drink it out would be an understatement. jay felt no more purpose in the game, leaving as soon as you excused yourself. with your wobbly steps you sway your way to the dance floor, almost falling over yourself before jay has his hands around you, keeping you afloat.

"watch your step, pretty," he whispers into your ear.

"pretty? what happened to piggy?" there is a slight flinch in you when you whisper back, growing conscious of the proximity.

"piggies can be pretty sometimes," his hands move lower to your hips, gripping lightly as the music changes to one of sensual hues. body moving together to the sultry notes.

"we're dancing," turning to face the rather drunk boy, you trace a finger over the exposed skin of his chest. jay's sure you can feel the fast thumping of his heart under your pretty little soft tips but honestly he couldn't care less right now. the alcohol in his brain messing with his feelings. a mushy daze of everything he's ever felt for you, from middle school to college.

"together," you breathe out staring at the plump of his lips and jay feels this weird sparkling thing where his stomach twists and turns but in a good way,"apparently," all these people around, so many attractive faces he could have latched onto yet he can't imagine himself swaying away with anyone else, it just feels wrong for some reason.

"and we hate each other," the reminder is like a fresh breeze across his fuzzy mind, no matter where he looks he can't seem to feel the hatred right now,"mhm," jay reaches out with a delicate touch, watching your dazed eyes in a trance as you scan him, muzzling into his hand when he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear in a faint caress. after that it's a silence between you two, not the one where you usually think of ripping each other's hair off but perhaps one where you're thinking to eating each other's face off. at least that's all jay can think about.

you were drunk and he should have seen it coming. at some point you leave him hanging in the middle of the floor only for him to find you amidst a crowd of screams, letting it all loose on an elevated platform with a pole, right towards the front. twerking your ass off and instead of being embarrassed out of his wits jay rather feels this warm fluffy feeling. a conjured up image of a sober him driving to bars and clubs to pick up a drunk you as you shout 'baby' while running into his arms.

no what the fuck, what am i thinking. he is baffled at his own imagination. enemies to lovers trope is so not his thing. it should never be his thing. right?

"come on you need some fresh air," spotting a few guys eyeing you in the wrong way, jay is quite literally picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder before walking out the house into the backyard.

"i was having so much fun there! why did you bring me out here!" you shout, still feeling the loud music ringing in your ears.

"you were having too much fun, you needed to touch some grass," he tries shushing you, flicking lightly at your forehead.

you ignore him, too tired and used to, to bicker back,"there's a pool here?" the excitement in your voice makes him laugh, y'all have probably been sitting here for five minutes, and you've only noticed the big ass pool now. but well, with the amount of alcohol you both have in your system right now it's a miracle you're still conscious and otherwise a little sane.

"why, you wanna skinny dip?" he knows that's exactly what you would want to do, if you could. he hasn't known you for ten years for just nothing. all those fights and bickerings and make ups, he's sure he knows you more than your friends and more than you know yourself. and he's always followed you whenever you weren't following him. doing everything you did just to get a chance at annoying you.

"can we go in there?" no.

tonight he'd like to stay dry and cozy.

"it's cold, i ain't doing this," he reprimands, squinting his eyes in the distance, a look away from you to tell you he's not having it.

however it's not like you listen anyway, at least not to him.

it's like second nature at this point, running after you. be it to get on your nerves or to secretly protect you,"piggy!" he snaps up at once at the sound of you skipping down the patio. albeit almost slipping and cracking your head open on the way. jay doesn't know if he should be worried more about ending up in the hospital or getting in there with you all wet and close.

he's been in the pool with girls before but he's not been in the pool with you since you were like eleven and friends and not hit by puberty yet, in your ugly loose swim shirts and pants, hair all over in a mess with no idea about romance.

"slow down will you, i can't be bothered to drive you to medics if you break a leg or something," he whines, feeling the water soaking up the clothes against his skin as he carefully walks down the stairs leading into the pool. two steps behind with his hand reaching out to steady you incase you decide to slip again.

"try to catch me!" you yell, putting in all efforts to move as far from him as you could.

"do i look like i need to try?" his hands loop around your wrists in a moment, pulling you against his chest is a low splash. arms going around the waist as he locks eyes with yours. the palm of your hands find refuge on his chest playing with the undone buttons when the hard pounding of his heart reverberates against your skin. you're nervous, he's nervous.

"why do you hate me?" he asks.

"because you do," you answer and jay's confused. what?

"why do you hate me?" you ask him. and as expected,"because you do,"

realizing it's all a big misunderstanding, jay can't help but feel his heart race faster if that is even possible,"i don't really hate you," the pout on your lips falters his gaze, looking down to avoid his breath stopping right there and then. "neither do i," a low whisper, softly adjusting the fallen strap of your dress. he scans you over once, his little weakness, the pretty dress. no, it's you, you always know what to wear have him weak in the knees.

"your lipstick is pretty-" you look so damn pretty he wants to say, brown orbs lingering on the shine radiating off your lips.

you're both drunk, and it's probably the only time he'll be able to say it. i can do it! jay swears.

however before he can even utter a syllable, the slippery gloss of your cherry lipstick slide against his lips. feeling the plush of your lips pressing onto his own, like a step into heaven. eyes open and motionless, taking a hard time to let it sink in while you're there moving your lips, catching his bottom lip between in a gentle bite.

"pi- piggy-" when you pull away for a split second only to jump onto him, his hands immediately grabbing the back of your thighs resting them around him, trembling at the tension he feels to dive right back in to a kiss.

"shut up," you begin leaving a trail of marks starting at his neck—

that's where you scream, pulling jay out of the flashbacks. he sits on his bed, tracing his lips in a trance after you've left. he had no idea how to face you after remembering all that while you still seemed to have no clue. how he knows your lipstick tastes sweet and bitter and how you don't know that he knows that.

he takes out his phone, a faint memory of a picture. searching through his gallery is not even necessary, on the top in a grand glory he finds the photo of you perched on his lap on his bed, head tucked into his neck where one can definitely catch glimpse of your fluttering kisses.

he can't seem to recall about the hickeys on your neck, and how you got to his room. but he's sure he will in a few days. hoping you'd too until then.

for now he'll post this. there's nothing better than getting under your skin. figuratively and literally.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

onyx pt2

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Thor's return to the Compound reveals that your new pet kitten wasn't quite what you thought he was

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: language (it's like 2 cuss words but i'm still not sorry, Rogers); the lightest sprinkle of angst [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: himbo Thor hours

You couldn't believe what you were hearing from Thor. Implying that the sweet tiny kitten on your shoulder was actually the god that wouldn't even spare you a single glance sideways. The one that barely even registered that you existed.

"Thor no. It can't be. This little bub is small and baking biscuits on my cheek. He purrs. He's cat-shaped. Onyx is a cat. He's my cat. And right now you're scaring him being all up in his face like this. I say this with so much love…Thunder? Back the fuck off." Your kitten shivered even harder as he snuggled into your neck, keeping his little face buried in your hair.

"Lady Y/N, I know my brother's eyes anywhere. Especially after he disguised himself as a snake when we were merely eight years old and--"

"Changed back and stabbed you. Bleh it's me. I know the story, Thunder," you finished for him, suddenly exceedingly aware of the weight of maybe-Onyx-maybe-Loki on your shoulder despite the tiny feline frame. "But I'm telling you there's just no way that my cat is--"

You looked into Onyx's eyes and immediately your shoulders dropped, realizing that it wasn't a coincidence that his eyes were a familiar shade of blue. Thor was right; he knew his brother's eyes anywhere. The kitten embraced your face, pressing his nose to your cheek repeatedly.

"Onyx, look at me." He stilled against your cheek, his wide pleading eyes looking into yours with something that looked akin to resignation. "You were hissing at FRIDAY and Shaun about getting chipped because you understood everything we were saying. Am I right?" He didn't move, the pupils in his eyes growing wider and the corners of his eyes starting to fill with tears. "Because you're Loki?"

He took a deep breath, this little chest puffing up with air and suddenly looking significantly less cat-like than he did a minute ago. Onyx -- actually, Loki -- pressed his face to your cheek again, the action now making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. Then finally he nodded,  and the air left your lungs.

You walked over to  your apartment, Thor's heavy footsteps following just behind you, and placed Onyx/Loki on your desk in front of a notepad and a pen. "Talk." He looked up at you again with those wide pleading eyes. "Please," you added, unsure of what to feel now that the last few hours you spent with your newfound pet was being colored with the context of who he actually was.

Too many thoughts, too many questions, floated around your head, nearly overwhelming you, as your last round of pain meds began to wear off and the discomfort you were feeling gradually became a throbbing pulsating sensation throughout your left side.

Most of them revolving around why he acted the way that he did in this tiny form with you, and how long this could have gone on if Thor hadn't revealed his identity within ten seconds of seeing him. The blond god pulled out a chair for you to read along as Loki's green magic surrounded the pen and words began to form on the paper.

I made a misstep while practicing my magic and cast a spell that turned me into this diminutive feline form. I had exited my quarters earlier today to find assistance in retrieving the spell I require to reverse its effects.

"Hold on." The pen stopped mid-stroke, the cat looking at you with your hand held up. "If you can make things move with your mind, why couldn't you just get the spell book--"

"Grimoire," Thor corrected you. "He gets a bit testy when you use the other word."

"Right then, why couldn't you just move the grimoire down and reverse the spell on your own?" The pen lifted again, you and his brother crowding around the paper to read his answer.

When I scale down my form to something so vulnerable, my magic is not as potent. In theory the grimoire is only just at the limit of my powers' reach in this form and I run the risk of crushing myself with the tome.

"Loki, are you telling me you need help reaching the top shelf?" Thor chortled at the question, sounding like he was struggling to keep his chuckles at bay. "Can it, Thunder, it's not that funny." The cat nodded at you, starting to stand on his back legs again. "Okay, so why not ask your brother? He's way taller than me."

"Oh that I can answer for him, Lady Y/N," he quipped, raising his own hand up in the air. "My brother doesn't trust me around his possessions. Something about how I have a tendency to break his things."

"You know what, that tracks," you muttered, standing and presenting the kitten your hand. "Come on then, let's get you back to normal." He hopped onto your hand and you were about to put him on your shoulder before you stopped, keeping him perched on your hands instead. He meowed at you, starting to climb up your arm before you picked him up again, keeping him in your hands.

"Think my brother wants to be on your shoulder, Lady Y/N. Seemed quite comfortable there," Thor spoke up, letting out a soft chuckle when the kitten started nodding enthusiastically, agreeing with him. "Perhaps you should--"

"I let him stay there earlier because he was my cat," you shot back. "Now he's your brother, it's not the same thing." He whimpered, his little cat body shaking in your hands, taking every ounce of strength you could spare not to give in and just place him back there. He kneaded at your palms the entire way to his apartment, Thor carrying around your stepping stool.

You all got to Loki's study, setting him down on the desk as he guided you to the grimoire he needed, shaking his head at each tome on the shelf that you'd pointed at so far.

"My word, Brother, your attention to detail in these sketches is remarkable, you even got--" Loki hissed at his brother, who was currently standing by a stack of journals, a small sketchbook in his hand. "Alright alright I desist. I shall take my leave. You shall be the one to divulge this information once you are yourself again."

The blond Asgardian's heavy footsteps sounded throughout the apartment until he left, then a few moments afterward you faintly heard his booming voice as he rejoined the rest of the team. You pointed at another grimoire that finally had him nodding his little head, stepping aside on the desk to make room for you to set it down.

"Okay then," you spoke up once you stepped back down to the ground, suddenly feeling more awkward as you stood alone with him in his apartment. "I'll uhh…I'll leave you to it."

You made it to the door of his study before you heard his tiny meow again, seeing him standing on his back legs at the edge of his desk, grabby hands outstretched towards you.

"I'll see you when you're…you again. Later, Loki." The sound of his little meows tugged at your heartstrings, nearly making you turn around and…honestly you didn't even know why he'd want you there with him but you'd stay if only to wipe the sad look from his face. You couldn't deny the adorable little cat much anyways in the hours he was yours.

Then again, you probably couldn't deny him anything in his Asgardian form, either.

An hour after you walked out of Loki's apartment you were hobbling your way back to yours, having eaten enough to take your next round of medications and toting a compound that Banner whipped up in his lab that could maybe help your injuries heal a touch faster. You had half a mind to just cut the sweatshirt off of you once you got inside to avoid the lingering discomfort, but ultimately decided against it.

That wasn't a good enough reason to let a perfectly good forest green sweatshirt go to waste.

You were about to start using the compound on your ribs first when a voice stopped you. "Darling…"

That voice. You recognized that voice anywhere. Giving you butterflies whenever you heard it in mission briefings. Haunting your vivid fantasies regardless of the time or appropriateness. The voice that had you incapable of forming words on any other day.

"Good to see you back," you said, trying to keep your composure around the god.

You reached for your sweatshirt again to cover yourself from his piercing stormy gaze, but before you could, he stood before you, his hand gently grasping your arm while the other rested on your waist. "I received a message from my brother while I was in my feline form, asking if I could check on your injuries. Aid in your healing somehow, if I feel inclined. His words, not mine." Your breath hitched when his thumbs stroked at your skin more tenderly than any of your former lovers had ever touched you. "I would have done it regardless."

Your pulse was thumping in your ears from his proximity, from the way he held your gaze. From the way he held you like he was fighting every urge to pull you to him. Like he would let you step out of it if that was what you wanted.

But all you wanted at the moment was to ask him, "Why didn't you tell me who you were the second you saw me in the pantry?"

The journal Thor was holding earlier materialized on your desk, diverting your attention to the open page. Probably the page that he was commending earlier that made the raven-haired god hiss at him in cat form. The image on the page had the air leave your lungs.

It was a sketch of you.

"My refusal to look at you before was not from disdain, little mortal," he spoke, taking a step closer to you, his hand traveling up your arm and framing your face. You could feel his breath on  your skin. "It was because every time I would look upon your features, I had to fight back every compulsion to do this."

He tucked his finger under your chin, turning you to face him before pressing a tender kiss to your lips that had you weakening in his hold, your stomach violently fluttering as his lips moved against yours. You whimpered against his lips, making him pull you into his arms, weaving his fingers into your hair.

"I've longed for you, precious mortal," he whispered once he pulled away, pressing kisses along the side of your face while you caught your breath. "To know the taste of your lips on mine. The feel of your supple body pressed against me." He kissed you again, lifting you off your feet and carrying you deeper into your apartment. Into your bedroom. He laid you down on your bed, briefly licking into your mouth before pulling away, making light wash over the room with a wave of his hand. "May I heal you, darling?"

Words failed you at the sight of him hovering over you, eyes wide and pleading as he looked on at the bruises and cuts that colored the left side of your torso. You wordlessly nodded your head to grant him the permission he needed to go forward, giving you a soft smile before he leaned down and pressed his lips to your bruises.

"Much better," he breathed out, nipping at your skin before moving his hands down to the waistband of your leggings, lips traveling down to your thigh and kissing you over the fabric. "Once I have seen to your injuries, you should know that I have every intention to make you mine." He kissed you just below your belly button, humming against your skin as you squirmed underneath him, deft hands working the tight fabric down your legs. "If you wish to be, that is."

"I do," you gasped out, ceasing to give a flying fuck how desperate and wanton you sounded at the moment. "I'm yours, I'm all yours."

He smiled against your skin, kissing away at the injuries you sustained on your left leg before making his way back up your body. "You've no idea how delighted I am to hear those words from you, my darling." You felt what remained of your clothing melting away along with his, your moan when skin met skin muffled by him slanting his mouth over yours.

You woke up the next morning to the feel of Loki's nose brushing against yours, pressing kisses along your face until you let out a soft giggle from his attentions. "Good morning, sweetheart."

Your response had him running his fingers along your sides, turning you into a squirming giggling mess as you tried to wrestle your way out of his hold. "Good morning, Onyx."

A/N: I heavily debated w/ myself if I was gonna put smut in this but ultimately decided not to because it's a fluff story and I wanted it to stay a full fluff story 🥴 Just know that he did, in fact, give her plenty a mango ride 😏😏

This is probs the last story I'll post for 2023, so I'm gonna wish you all a Happy New Year and here's to the whorish insanity we'll all get up to in 2024. I have a whole lot planned out, starting with more horny bitches cuts and…a certain celebration I've been putting off because I'm drowning in a sea of WIPs 😂

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

Ways to describe golden/yellow/amber eyes? If you’ve done it already, could you link the post?

Different Ways to Describe Gold/Yellow (ish) Eyes

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

She had eyes like molten gold.

When the light hit his eyes just right, they reflected a perfect shade of yellow.

Their eyes were the first thing he noticed. They had oval slits-- like a cat's-- and were golden.

Her eyes were honey-glazed.

She thought his eyes held a hundred shades of gold.

Their eyes were like lemons, he decided. Just as sour as their personality.

He had eyes that could outshine the sun, and they couldn't help but to stare.

Her eyes were as bright as the raging sun and the color of dancing flames.

They had a smile like spring, but their eyes were autumn with a hint of passing summer.

Her eyes were the color of honey, irises swirling like the sweet nectar.

His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned her over with nothing more than a wink and a smile.

Their eyes weren't quite yellow, but as gold as a ring on your finger.

The sun hit her eyes like a bullet.

If Gods existed they hid away in his eyes.

They had eyes like a blazing setting sun.

Her dark eyes were flaked with gold.

His eyes made her think of the sandcastles she used to build as a kid.

Their eyes were so bright that it put diamonds to shame.

Her eyes were encased in rings of gold.

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Anime Eyes

just boyfriendrry and reader being disgustingly in love bc i love the new kacey musgraves album💕💕

Masterlist

"What are you looking at?"

"Who me? Nothing."

Your eyes fluttered back down to your book, but only for a moment, your gaze inexplicably transfixed on the man before you.

Harry wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it was probably the most regular day you'd shared with him in a while. After lots of traveling, for both work and vacation, you and Harry were finally in the comfort of your own home. He was folding laundry while you enjoyed a lazy day in bed recovering from jet lag, humming to himself as he sorted his clothes into categories before putting them away.

"What?" he asked again, having caught you for the second time. The corner of his mouth tipped up, pleased that he'd caught you admiring him. "See something you like?"

Where do I start? you thought. It was no secret your boyfriend was attractive. Even in an old faded t-shirt, five o'clock shadow, and his hair unkempt as it dried from his shower, she was still the most handsome man you'd ever met. It was startling sometimes, his smile or dimples or green eyes making you do a double take, causing you to blush before he caught you ogling.

"No," you said, still holding onto the charade that you hadn't been admiring him. Harry raised his brows, not buying your cool act, which only made your cheeks burn, but you sighed in defeat nonetheless. "I just love you, that's all."

Harry's responding grin had your heart melting into a puddle at your feet. It was both satisfied and bashful at the same time, beautiful and adorable as his cheeks became dusted with pink. "Oh stop."

"No, really," you said, leaning forward as you set your book aside. "You're doing something as simple as pairing socks, and I just fell even more in love with you. Can you believe that?"

Looking down at his various piles of yours and his clothes, Harry shook his head before covering his face with his hands. When he removed them to look at you, his whole face was beet red.

"Now you're the one flustering me."

You shrugged, pushing onto your knees. Carefully, you moved the piles of clothes out of the way so you could be right in front of him to wrap your arms around his neck. This close to your boyfriend, you could see all the little things that made up the face you loved so much—the light dusting of freckles, the scar on his chin, the precise shade of green that made up his eye color, the perfect arch of his brows. Harry was a work of art, one you considered yourself lucky to be able to behold on a daily basis.

For a moment as you held his gaze, you could see it all. The present relationship you had with him hurtling into a bright future. One with tears of joy and sadness, of remarkable memories and feelings too great to comprehend. It was almost too daunting to think about, but you wanted it, you wanted it all with him.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, grazing your fingers over the tops of his cheekbones.

"How much I love that little twinkle in your eye when your mind wanders off somewhere," Harry replied.

"Thinking of you, baby," you murmured, before finally sliding your lips over his.

Harry's arms tightened around your waist as he hummed appreciatively, his hands roving all over your back as he brought you impossibly closer against his chest. You sighed at the familiar touch, never quite used to the feeling of butterflies or the electricity that zinged through your skin every time he touched you.

"In case it wasn't abundantly clear," Harry murmured, his lips smearing lazy kisses over your jaw and down your neck. "I love you."

Squeezing him tighter, you nudged your nose against his neck. "I love you too."

Bokuto SFW/NSFW Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you aren’t into this

Warnings; oral sex (blow jobs/pussy eating), car sex, riding, small amount of anal play (Bo teases your ass while he eats you out), mating press, kissing, praising

Note; I wasn’t originally planning on posting but I’ve had a rough night and I just love Bokuto 💕 This is my first time writing for Haikyuu so I hope I can do him justice. Please enjoy 🪽

Second Note; I think I’m gonna have to write one for Kirishima next, s-so many ideas about him 😮‍💨

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Koutarou who is the sweetest man alive, who you’re unconditionally in love with, but…is an airhead (i.e. he loses his phone all the time, forgets plans he’s already made, somehow drops his wallet down a hole at the top of a parking garage that’s 30 feet deep while planking—but miraculously finds it laying on a car below??) who you’ll always help find his shit either way—he needs AirTags

Koutarou who likes to wear lots of colors, whose favorite color is blue, who once got his face painted with a rainbow on it at the fair (he did look pretty, plus the vibrant colors represents how bright his personality is)

Koutarou who practically vibrates with excitement when he sees you watching his games from the stands, who smiles so wide his cheeks may split, who waves at you in the middle of a play (he ran into the net by accident, but he didn’t miss the next spike!!)

Koutarou who turns a sweet shade of pink when he sees you wear his jersey to his game, who picks you up in a sweaty, bear hug (squishing the air out of your lungs) after they’re finished, chatting excitedly in your ear as he carries you a few feet (he only sets you down when Hinata rescues you by reminding him they have to go change)

Koutarou who gets into certain self-deprecating moods sometimes, who lets you help him feel better, letting him talk it out, spending time with him, whispering words of support and encouragement as you poke the dimples on his cheeks (which gets him to smile and giggle almost every time)

Koutarou who likes listening to hip hop and surprisingly—hair metal, who loves singing in the car, who has an astonishingly good singing voice (you love watching him as he drives, he gets so into the music, wiggling in his seat—it’s like your own personal concert) and who loves Paramore—because you showed them to him

Koutarou who takes up half your bed when he sleeps, he’s so fucking tall—and thick🫣(but you love it and use him as your own personal blanket, but he does get really sweaty in the middle of the night so you have to roll away before you melt to death)

Koutarou who loves holding your hand, lacing his warm fingers through yours and tugging you in different directions, no matter where you are, who leans in so close to speak to you, you can see his eyelashes (it never fails to make warmth thickly pool in your belly, traveling up and making your cheeks burn—he always looks at you with stars in his eyes)

Koutarou who is literally always the life of the party—everyone loves the fucking ace, he radiates positive and happy energy—people are drawn to him like moths to a flame, they always want to talk to him and you’re proud of it (plus you don’t mind—besides he always comes home with you at the end of the night)

Koutarou who introduces you to Kuroo, who he has remained friends with after high school, Kuroo, the sly bastard who you’ve grown quite fond of & have become close friends with (instantly clicking over your combined efforts to tease Bo)

Koutarou who loves, loves taking hot showers with you, he likes to hug you under the warm spray, letting it relax both of you and talk about his day (sometimes you end up on your knees, but who can blame you?)

Koutarou who looks so unbelievably hot when his hair is down, no gel in sight as the soft strands frame his sweet face (you can’t help but stare at him until he asks if there’s something on his face, you tell him just how goddamn good he looks—which in turn makes him flush bright pink, dragging you into his lap to make out with him)

Koutarou who really loves when you call him by his given name —don’t get him wrong, but…he can’t help but feel a flash of heat shoot between his legs when he hears your sweet voice calling him Bo (you absolutely know what it does to him)

Koutarou who loves you so fucking much he feels his heart may burst at the seams, who is your best friend, who you can be completely yourself with, who supports you in everything you do, who you know, in your bones, is your one and only, who has been secretly planning on proposing to you for awhile now (FYI— you say yes, Bo definitely cries)

💕NSFW Below This-You Have Been Warned💕

Koutarou who is fucking buff, who is wayy taller than you, who is packed with muscle and his cock is, to say the least…thick, but just long enough to keep from hurting (but lets be real, the thickness is what counts)

Koutarou who gets rock hard so damn fast whenever you kiss his neck, gasping, whining, squirming underneath you when you sink your teeth into the muscle covering his pulse point, tilting his head and melting when you leave a couple hickies (he really tries to cover it up the next day, but Miya Atsumu teases him at practice anyways—he takes it in stride, only blushing a little bit)

Koutarou who only really curses during sex, unable to stop the nasty words from leaving his mouth (you think it’s the biggest turn on when he can’t help but whimper a soft f-fuck when he gets his dick inside you)

Koutarou who loves when you suck his cock, who likes when you’re laying on your back and he straddles your chest, controlling the pace as he thrusts into your mouth, who loves when you grip his ass and help him fuck your throat, who braces a hand against the wall, one hand in your hair as he watches his dick shine with your saliva as it repeatedly disappears between your warm, soft lips, who sees stars when he fucks along your tongue like a track made to make him blow

Koutarou who likes to suffocate between your thighs, always asking you to sit on his face, who grips your hips and forces you to rub your clit over his tongue, who covers his finger in your slick, teasing your asshole until you cum on his tongue, fisting his hair between your fingers (you choke on your moans, pleasure sticky and gooey gushing through your limbs)

Koutarou who was nervous at first when you suggested having sex in his car, but now he’s addicted, who can’t do anything but hold your waist, whimpering mhmm—fuck, that’s it pretty thing, as you hold onto his shoulders, using your feet & thighs to bounce on his cock in the drivers seat that’s been pushed all the way back

Koutarou whose toes curl, cock twitching as his eyes either stayed glued to where your pussy sucks him in or the way your tits bounce in his face (you love it just the same, tilting your head down to watch while you fuck yourself on his dick)

Koutarou who likes to let out high pitched whines & moans in your ear when he fucks you in missionary, who tells you your fucking pussy’s s’good, so tight, gonna make me cum so hard, while he has you folded into a mating press, shivering while he tries to hold back from cumming too quick (it feels like he’s in your throat, he makes you squirt in this position, thumb rubbing your clit roughly)

Koutarou who sits back on his calves, gripping your tits, fucking into you and curling his hips upwards, who makes you inhale sharply, gasping Bo! as you cum, fingers gripping his forearms, who says love when you cum on my cock baby girl, taking my dick so fucking well (you groan through clenched teeth as warm tingles take over your body)

Koutarou who almost cums instantly when you tell him he’s so good at fucking you, making you cum so many times during one round of sex (bro definitely has a bit of a praise kink)

Koutarou who whispers how much he loves you, face flushed when he starts to cum, whose heart thumps wildly in his chest as he groans about how good it feels to fill you up, pussy hugging him so tight (you tell him you love him just the same when he buries his sweaty face in your neck)

Koutarou who can never resist resting all his weight on you afterwards, snaking his arms around you and snuggling you tight as you both soak in the post orgasm glow, who helps you clean up and gets you water before you both take a nap or go to bed for the night

I have the largest hyper fixation on Floyd right now. Funny little troll being way too cute for it to be legal.

do you think you could write a story where a male / Non-binary reader that's like, a large person thing, (You can make them part animal if possible, I like the idea of Floyd hiding in the readers fur for comfort.) is reunited with Floyd after he was stick in the diamond perfume bottle for 2 months. And they just give Floyd a bunch of comfort cuddles and other stuff.

Take all the time you need to rest and drink water, if you can't do my request, that's perfectly fine. I hope you have an amazing day / night!

-A non-binary bee 🐝

@!; Floyd with a part-animal Reader! Floyd / Half-animal! Half-Troll! Reader

"Summary"! Couldn't tell if you meant big like tall or big like cubby... so why not both? :D Anyways, there are more headcanon style with little stories in it. Dunno when I'll post this (I have like 5 other stories backed up b/c my mind can't decide what to write); But I hope you like it Bee! Tags! Floyd literally being everything, no pronouns mentioned so feel free to use your own, hurt-comfort, NOT PROOF READ... also wrote in one sitting... in one day. AND TUMBLR KEPT GLITCHING ON ME AND THE PITCTURE BORDER ISN'T WORKING ON DESKTOP-. anyways please enjoy <3

@!; Floyd has known you since his band days, which was a shock to his brothers when they finally met you. Not only are you taller than an average troll (a foot or so) yet you're also different; and mostly in a good way, but take what you will about the fact that Branch noticed your differences first. When Floyd first met you, it was 2 months into his boyband career with Brozone. He went out on a walk to clear his head before a big show, anxious feels were never good to go on stage with and his brothers didn't help much. Mostly John Dory, who kept speaking about his "perfect" plan to the show. Just thinking about messing up anything made Floyd more nervous than preforming, he really didn't want to let his brothers down; as he's seen them preform before he was able to join on the scene. So while JD ranted, Spruce worked out, and Clay was fitting into his costume, Floyd went out on a needed walk. That's when he found you;

You were stood up top a mountain cliff near the Pop troll village, looking down with your majestic eyes and ears relaxed down by your side. Floyd stood by the village though hid in the shade of the plants nearby to watch. He didn't want to scare you off, especially since he's never seen anything quite like you. You seemed memorized by the lights of the Pop troll village, if not maybe a little intoxicated by them; like a moth to the flame. Floyd was memorized by your shiny coat, which he could barely see against the night sky and the bright colors of the village. You didn't seem to notice him at all as you laid down at that cliff, crossing your paws and laying your muzzle down on them. Floyd wasn't sure why but watching you watching the lights of the village calmed his nerves. Even though it was still a little nerve racking thinking that an animal so big knows were the village was; an animal who could possibly eat Trolls. Yet, that thought was quickly wavering out of his mind the more passive you seemed. @!; Floyd almost missed the show that night, Spruce had to go find him before JD blew a fuse. He was questioned like hell the few seconds before the show and then afterwards, yet he couldn't exactly tell his brothers that he saw an animal watching the village and that's what he was doing. They would be both over worried and a little relentless in scolding him for getting so close to something that could eat trolls. His absence of an answer, and his general dodging of the brothers questions (when that was so not like Floyd) led them all to assume that Floyd met a Troll that had caught his eye. Floyd tried to protest against this, yet was a little flustered at the fact that all his brothers seemed to jump on that conclusion train so quickly. So, that only solidified his brother's theories more and thus began the hunt. All his brothers kept an extra eye on Floyd, trying to see who the lucky Troll had been who caught there ever so sensitive brother's eyes. Despite all their "sneaky" tracking and slight stalking, they came up with nothing. Floyd was determined to let them not know what, or maybe who, he actually saw that night. So he didn't see you again until his brothers gave up on their little hunt and let Floyd to his own devices. Especially after he almost messed up a show due to nerves from not being able to go out on a walk without his brother's bombardment; JD wasn't happy. 3 months after first seeing you, Floyd was able to catch a glimpse of you again. Before a show, he looked out the window (not needing to go out on a walk that night) and saw your figure again in the distance on the same hill. You were relaxed again, laying down and looking intently towards the Village. In some weird sense, Floyd had a funny thought that you were here to listen to the concert; seeing as he didn't see you on any other night than concert nights. Yet, he shook that thought out of his head really quick, not thinking that you could like Brozone music. Not that it was because you weren't a Troll, but because he thought it was too loud for your ears; he's read somewhere that animal ears tended to be more sensitive than Troll ears. But then why would you be so close to the Village? The thought stuck in Floyd's mind all throughout the performance and when he checked if you were still at the cliff after the show, you were gone. He couldn't tell if it was because of the noise or because the show had ended; but he felt a little disheartened.

@!; Floyd would play this one-sided game of eye-spy for months before he spotted a night when you weren't you. He had began to make it a habit to leave you a little plate of food (well little for you) before every Brozone performance. His personal thank you for watching the show despite your (maybe) sensitives ears. He was going to go place the plate of food at the top of the cliff when he stopped midway through his hike to see a Troll standing at the top of the cliff. At least, it looked like a Troll? Yet they seemed taller, even more so when Floyd slowly approached closer. Your hair also was more abundant than other Trolls, even for adults. He was cautious as he approached you, keeping the plate of food close to him as he tried to scope out who you were before he interacted. Yet before he could figure out who you were, you snapped your head around to stare into the dead of night . . . directly at him. Floyd froze, not sure if you could see him or not and not wanting to find out. Though it was light you weren't even a Troll for a second, taking in a sniff before your hair stood up for a moment; prickling like a cat's hair standing up when frightened. Slowly you approached him with heavy footsteps, your height slowly growing in the moonlight as your shadow was drawn out. For a moment Floyd thought he was as good as dead. He didn't know what to do! Frazzled, he quickly shoved out the plate of food he had indented for his friend and not this stranger about to commit (possible) cannibalism. And that's when he heard your footsteps come to a stop and a heavy huff from someone's nose hit the top of his head, causing him to cautiously open one eye. And he felt like fainting as soon as he did that. Though he couldn't help opening both eyes in complete terror seeing a Troll tower over him in an unnatural height. Your eyes pierced down at him, their glow in the moonlight somehow familiar yet Floyd could not piece it together at this moment of panic. "Please don't eat me!" Floyd blurted out, the only thing between him and you being a plate of food. Yet you didn't answer, at least not right away. Your silence was as terrifying as your glare and staggering height. "I promise you I don't taste good!-" The words fell out before Floyd had even realized he had said them, watching with terror as you leant down. He wasn't sure what you were doing, but he hoped it wasn't serving your next meal's horror before deciding whether or not you should eat him. Yet there was something in your eyes that softened, a small smile that seemed to creep onto your lips. And for once after meeting you in this form, Floyd felt like he wasn't going to get mauled. Which was a good thing, a really good thing... For him at least. "So you're the one who's been leaving me food!" Your voice was not at all how he imagined it, as it seemed to carry some sort of friendliness he's not even heard from some Trolls. It was also a bit rougher, your English oddly unperfected for a Troll for the age Floyd guessed you were. "I-.. uh, what?" Though what did you mean Floyd was leaving you food? Maybe you were confusing him for someone else, or maybe you were eating the food he intended for his friend. Either way he tried to clear the confusion, "I'm sorry no, I don't think so. I've been leaving food here for.." "Yes, for me." You interrupted Floyd before he could finish, giving him a rather big grin. Yet, no matter how friendly you seemed, your words caused him to become that more confuddled. Even more so when you held out your hands flat, as though you were expected Floyd to just hand you the plate ... really incorrectly. He thought for a brief moment that you may be related to the animal that perches itself at the cliffside, though he didn't think too long on that possibility; as would it even be possible?

Either way, to save some trouble for now, Floyd carefully handed you the plate of food; watching as you held it from the bottom flat in your hands and grinned brighter before rushing off to the side of the cliff. He wasn't sure if he should follow you or not. "Come, friend! We eat to show!" You gestured for Floyd to follow as you sat at the iconic cliff he's seen the animal so many times. And despite his hesitation, and his logicality telling him not to, he deiced to join the Troll. I mean, what could be the harm? Floyd almost missed his performance that day. JD wasn't happy yet, oddly enough, something inside Floyd made him rather indifferent. Not uncaring, because he always cared about his brothers feelings and letting down JD was last on his list; yet, he didn't care as much as he should have. And that caught him by suprise. He wondered if it had to do something with you...

@!; The day the band broke up, Floyd went to seek you first. You two had grown close after the countless nights you spent upon the cliff, chatting and eating. Floyd just couldn't stand being able to leave without giving you a proper goodbye, you have been his closest friend outside his family after all. He found you lower on the cliff this day, still stalking in your animal form. Your ears were completely pinned back, and he was sure you had saw what had happened during that performance; it was the biggest disaster storm ever. "Hey! H-" Floyd didn't even have to call you twice before you perked up, snapping your attention over to him. He grew sheepish seeing your sudden smile, and he could only guess you had been utterly worried about him since the performance. Though he didn't expect you to be so worried you would bound towards him on all fours, causing him to yelp and quickly brace for impact. Yet, you never hit, and Floyd heard as you skidded yourself to a stop right in front of him and plopped down on your bottom. Letting out an excited yelp before licking him once, then twice. Causing him to laugh and try to push your snout away, a silent signal for you to turn back into a Troll. Which you didn't seem to get the hint for instantly, as you licked him thrice before standing up and twirling in a circle. Laughing, Floyd covered his eyes and let you turn back, opening them only when he heard your voice again; "Floyd! What in the hell happened out there?! One minute you guys were doing fine and it seemed like-" Your voice was as lovely as ever, and Floyd instantly felt a pang in his heart knowing he wouldn't be able to hear it as often anymore. His face became rather gloomy at that sudden realization he hadn't thought of before now. Maybe visiting you wasn't- no, he can't think like that! You deserved the truth as much as Branch did. He can't simply walk off and keep you sitting here, watching and wondering where he had gone for years on end. That wasn't right. "(y/n)!" Floyd jolted at the suddenness of his voice, and how firm it sounded. He didn't mean for his words to come out so harsh, though your ranting didn't do much to help his heart... or the decision he knew he had to make. Oh and your eyes, the way they shone in the moonlight. Floyd could see how startled he had made you, as he's never used such a voice with you; yet it had done the job and hushed you up, even for now. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you. I just-" Floyd's lip twitched as he thought for the easiest way to blow this to you. The easiest way to let you down after all the nights you had spent together. The easiest way for him to accept everything that was happening and everything he had to do and everything that needed to be done.. but oh poor Branch and poor you, neither of you deserved this- "Floyd.. it's okay." Floyd was brought back to his thoughts, snapped back with the feeling of your hands grabbing his and your voice echoing in his ears. He opened his seized eyes and glanced up at yours; you were leaning down again, and Floyd laughed through the tears he didn't realize were spilling down. "You're doing it again.." Floyd mumbled, his voice wobbly. Your hands raced to his cheeks, cupping them and undoubtably feeling the hot, wet tears streaming down as you began to clear them. Floyd dropped his hands to his sides, they felt all to heavy right now. "No you're doing it again." Your voice was uncharacteristically steady, none if it's usual fluctuating like a dog excited to see it's owner. "You're overthinking and... and thinking of everyone else before you think about yourself! Floyd, whatever you're going to say to me, whatever you're keeping in that mind of yourself, you're going to tell me now, okay? And you're going to tell me and you're not going to worry about how I feel and you're going to be firm on your decision... because you're strong and we're friends and I won't be mad with you no matter what you tell me."

@!; That night, Floyd knew, for sure, that he was in love with you. And that made telling you all that harder as his heart yelled at his brain to stay, but his brain knew that they couldn't go back on their choice. He had to leave, even if for a week or month or year. He knew he needed space from the Village and everyone inside.. but not you and Branch. Defiantly not you. And oh the broken look in your eyes got him, but the way you tried to smile through it and agree that the space is what he needed made him fall even more in love. You were so strong, you kept to your word... Maybe Floyd could stay one more night. And he did, he cuddled up with you for his last night in the Village; you both watched the stars, all cozied up in your hair. And god, has Floyd never felt a Troll's' hair so soft. He almost couldn't pull himself out from it in the morning when you were still clinging onto him, trapping him with both your body and your hair. He felt tempted to doze back to sleep, yet knew he had to leave now (while he still had the will power) then wait before you woke up. He knew if he saw your broken look again, that look in your eyes that you could never hide, he couldn't bring himself to leave. So when you woke up in the morning, you found yourself alone; completely alone in a middle of your blanket made of your hair. Floyd had left before you had woke up and you would find yourself sulking in that position for longer than you would have thought.

@!; You didn't see Floyd again, yet you heard from him up till a few years into his exploration of the unknown; journeying to find himself in the chaotic world beyond the village. You didn't leave from the outskirts of the Pop village, as that's were you had figured out you could thrive the most without interacting with other Trolls or animals. So when Floyd's letters began to run dry, you knew it wasn't because he didn't know where to send it. No that's never been a problem before, especially with the bugs that were used to deliver the messages so they never went through Troll post. You had first thought that he had forgotten to write a letter that day and he would send you one tomorrow. He didn't. You then figured he was just somewhere where he couldn't right or get a bug to deliver the letter. But after a month of sitting and waiting anxiously, you figured that couldn't be the reason either. Floyd never stayed in a place for this long, and the letter he had sent you last made it sound like he was going to a place where he could continue to send letters. Another option came to mind, what if Floyd had just stopped sending letter because he just grew tired of you? He found someone else who captured his attention better than you did! Who could write in pretty cursive and spell words and speak correctly. Who could bake for him pies and cupcakes, who could sing and dance with him in the proper way that a Troll could. That was the first day you ever felt truly alone ever since Floyd left. Sure, you missed him dearly; Missed his smile and his caring ways and his company but never did you ever feel truly lonely. The type of lonely that made you upset and aggravated. The type of lonely that stung more than a throne in your paw, or a bee sting. The type of lonely that made you think back on all the memories you had with Floyd and made you think two different thoughts all at once: What was the point? Can I get those times back? It was torture. Two months of agonizing torture that ate you up inside with no remorse.

@!; Two months inside that horrible diamond prison, Floyd was finally free. Sure he had some white in his hair now, and felt fatigue come onto him easier when singing, but he was free; Free and with his brothers heading back to the Pop Troll village where Brozone (kind of reestablished) was going to chill for a minute before maybe going back their separate ways. "Oh my god, did we ever tell you that Floyd use to have a crush in the village when he was younger?!" JD turned around from the console of his caterpillar-like trailer, a snicker plastered right across his face. His comment instantly flipped the attention of everyone else, who had been lounging around the 'living space' of the trailer and chatting about nothing exciting. At least, nothing exciting to John Dory. "Oh! I almost forgot about that!" Bruce started as Branch looked between his brothers, noticing as Floyd let out a small groan and covered his face. "Oh not this gain..." Floyd mumbled, though not completely under his breath. "What?! JD you have to be joking right now!" Poppy jumped to a start, Viva seemed to be right beside her; jumping to her sister's side, placing her hands on Poppy's shoulders with such interest you would think JD had just brought up party plans. "Oh I'm so not joking." JD couldn't help but laugh, crossing his arms. "Floyd used to sneak off before the start of every show and see his little crush! It was so cute." And there was the teasing tone that Floyd could never forget. He hadn't hoped they didn't bring up this topic, but now he wished he had begged on his knees to anything above that his brothers had forgotten. "Oooh~ Floyd! Who was the lucky troll?" Viva questioned, mirroring her sister's excitement yet with a slight more mature feeling. "Well-" Floyd couldn't even begin before JD took over again. "We never got the chance to see them!" "Oh yeah, and we tried hard too. Stalked Floyd anytime he went out to see if we could find any sort of glimpse on who this Troll was. But we never found them." Clay informed, leaning back against the couch as an amused glint crossed his eyes; he glanced over to Floyd, who was still hiding his head. "Can we PLEASE change the topic?!" Floyd begged, but he guessed that his humiliation was much too entertaining to his brothers (mostly JD). "Nope! Never got the chance to see them. It was like- the biggest mystery in all of BroZone history." JD made this sound more ominous than it needed to be. More mysterious than a unclosed murder case that was more boggling than answerable. His serious tone didn't help it either. "Oh my god, Viva!-" Poppy turned to her sister, who held a knowing look. "To the clue board?" "To the clue board! Don't worry we'll find this troll." Poppy exploded like a star as Viva and her rushed over to the clue board that Branch had set up. They didn't waste time before they began to excitedly chat over possibly candidates and theories. Floyd felt more embarrassed than the day his brothers had started that whole mess, and he wasn't sure how that was even possible! Branch watched the two sisters for a moment before turning over to his brothers, thoroughly confused, "Wait... why did no one tell me this?!"

@!; Floyd wasn't sure how he would break this news to his brothers, but all he knew is that he needed to get to you first. He knew you just as you knew him, and he knew his disappearance would have a cause for concern... or maybe alarm or distress. Everything that Floyd didn't want you to feel when you thought about him because he should be your safe space and you had been his. "Guys! I'll be right back." Floyd shouted to his brothers when the caterpillar bus had came to a stop in front of the Pop village; And Floyd was sure he literally flew out the door with more force than necessary before he began to run down the village. "Bring them home for dinner!" Floyd could hear JD's sly remark before he was no longer in earshot of the van. Though he was sure he could hear something about "Kids growing up too fast" and some shared lighthearted laughter. Floyd couldn't care at the moment; not when all his brain buzzed about was finding you and making sure you were okay. What if you had gotten hurt during your time of no communication. What if you began to think that Floyd no longer cared for you or that something had happened to your or- Floyd's mind raced faster than he could keep up with and it felt like he was no longer racing against time yet against his own thoughts; not thinking about the fact that he had crossed the village in record time or that his brothers watched him rush straight into the woods by that cliff he had found a friend on and then love. That cliff where he had stargazed with you and shared thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else. That cliff where you had showed him your way of life and let him closer than any other Troll had been with you. That cliff were everything happened in a secret silence that felt just right. That cliff were time seemed to stop. That cliff where he first found your eyes and saw your face last when he left. That cliff.. That cliff. That cliff!- Floyd was jolted away from the edge of the cliff, something he didn't realize he was just about to run off due to being lost in his emotion. A firm grip on the back of his pants had yanked him away, throwing him down onto the floor as now someone was between him and that cliff. "Are you crazy?! You were about to throw yourself off!-" Floyd didn't expect his baby brother's voice to shout at him and snap him out of his flurry of thoughts. He didn't expect Branch to be the one to stand there between him and the cliff. It was meant to be you. Not that he was meaning to throw himself off a cliff to find you, he would never put that type of trauma onto anyone or even think about such as thing. But you were meant to be here, meant to greet him on this cliff, meant to... where were you? Floyd didn't answer his brother as he scrambled onto his feet, numb from the running. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. He began to look around frantically, up and down the cliff, left and right. He rushed to some bushed and trees and tried looking more in depth as Branch stood there; never having seen his brother so disorientated and frazzled. "Floyd? Floyd!" Branch tried to get his brother's attention, "Floyd what are you looking for?" You. Where were you? Floyd didn't realize he didn't answer his brother; he had thought he had, but he didn't. He simply jumped off a rock and to the lower side of the cliff before he continued his search. Branch cautiously followed him, slowly lowering himself down from the rock and onto the ground. He watched Floyd look everywhere before Floyd jolted to a stop and stared in front of him. "(Y/N)!" It was a pained cry as Floyd rushed forward, pushing himself off of a tree to give himself a boost. "Floyd!" Branch yelled, following his brother in a panic. "Floyd you can't run into the forest around the village they're dangerous! Flo-" And Branch paused seeing who his brother approached. "Floyd!"

Floyd had no hesitation rushing over to an enormous beast that laid in the middle of a field, soaking in the sun. The beast had clear patches of its fur bitten off, and Branch couldn't tell whether it was self inflicted due to nerves or if it was from a fight. It perked its ears, then its head as it heard Floyd' shouting. It scanned the field and Branch felt himself rushing over to his brother. "FLOYD!" Branch's yell fell short as he saw the beast jump to its paws and rush over to his brother. Branch felt adrenaline rush through his body as he was sure he was about to watch his brother get eaten by a rapid animal. And Branch wasn't in range to catch the beast's muzzle with his hair, and Branch was sure that Floyd wouldn't attack it for whatever reason, and- wait... what? Branch kicked up dirt as he skidded to a stop, watching at the beast popped into an unusually tall Troll who grabbed Floyd in bear hug before spinning the two around. Branch watched with so much bewilderment that he questioned what JD had put in the drink he had given him. He had to be seeing things. That beast didn't just transform into a troll, right? Branch let out an airy bit of laughter as he watched the taller Troll trip on their own legs, causing the two of them to crash down and laugh loudly. Laugh like long lost lovers or crushes who had just found each other again, some sort of star-crossed lovers situation you would only find in books. Branch let out a small huff before carefully walking over to Floyd and you on the floor, laughing like maniacs. "What happened to you?!" Floyd reached up to cup your cheeks, worry rushing to his eyes as he noticed the bits of your hair that were fried and clearly chewed off. "No! No what happened to you?!" Sure, maybe you should have answered Floyd's question before asking one but you were too worried! This man disappears off the face of the planet for 2 months with no explanation then comes back like nothing ever happened?! You wouldn't stand for it, nor would you sit or lay for it either. Your hands rushed up to his, cupping over his hands which were cupping your cheeks. "I asked the question question first!" Quipped Floyd with a cheeky, beaming grin. Oh, how you've missed that grin so much. You could just squish his cheeks and kiss him at this moment. "I'll tell you what happened to me when you explain what happened to you." "Dea-" "How about you both explain what is happening?" Branch cut in, standing nearby with crossed arms and an amused smile. Floyd shot his head up, you simply turned to the side, to see that smile and oh- Floyd for a moment thought Branch was about to use this for some sort of blackmail against their brothers. "Branch!" Floyd sat up with a startle, having forgotten his brother had been here... and that he kind of saved Floyd from running off a cliff earlier. "Who are you?" Floyd heard you ask from under him and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do in that moment. But hey, if all he had to do was introduce you to his family, and hope they would accept you for your differences, then he would do that. He would do that and more to be able to be next to you, in your arms and in your reach. He would do anything to be able to keep you close. And next time he left the village, Floyd was not leaving without you.

@!; BONUS SNIPIT

"Wait, so you're telling me you got captured by some evil green-haired people who put you into a glass bottle made of diamonds and the only way you escapes is because your family made the 'perfect family harmony'?" You asked Floyd with a childlike wonder and a mature skepticism. You both were laying in Floyd's bed, inside his bod, as crickets chirped outside a sweet melody of the night. Floyd knew it sounded unbelievable but, "I'm telling you, this story is 100 percent real." Floyd couldn't help but keep in his laughter at your expressive wide eyes. Taking advantaged of your bewilderment of the situation, Floyd attacked you by snuggling closer; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, resting his head against your chest. He didn't have to look up at you to know you were cocking your eyebrow up in a questioning way, trying to think the logistics of the story over in your head. Yet you still wrapped your arms around Floyd's back, your hair stretching out to wrap the both of you in its fuzzy and cozy warmth. Floyd let out a deep sigh, you felt it against your chest; he missed these moments, and you did too. Moments that seemed to stand still, yet not in a boring way. In a way where Floyd got to soak up every second of being with you, and you got to soak up every second with him. Where you could feel like time was racing by, yet checked and it had only been a few minutes and you had more time to cuddle and just talk and be together than you had thought. Moments like these were the best feeling in the world. "I still don't believe you." You jokingly poke Floyd in the back, causing him to yelp and arch away from your pointy nail. You watched as he looked up at you with the most playfully challenging look; an eyebrow cocked upwards and his eyes glittering in the small light of the dimmed lamp. "Well it happened! I don't know what to tell you." He sassed back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner before he laid his head back against your chest. You tightened your arms around Floyd, which caused him to smile softly. No matter what happened, what had happened. Floyd was back now and neither of you were leaving each others side again; at least not now or in the near future unless it was forced.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

I haven't seen any posts about this yet but l've seen some fan art that makes me feel this needs to be said:

Don't forget Leah Sava Jeffries has darker skin when making Annabeth Chase fan art!

She is much closer to Lupita Nyong'o than Zoe Kravitz when it comes to shading, reflection, and complementary color usage :).

Lighting for dark skin is different on light skin. Light skin gets changed by lighting, and dark skin reflects the lighting. Below is a lovely shot of Nyong'o's character from Wakanda Forever in mourning. The filmmakers emphasize the umber qualities of her skin in contrast to the funereal white and (arguably harsh) light across her shoulder below.

Try to pick spots that aren't directly in or near the light, and try mixing 3 or more! You can put it into a color mixer online, or even color pick, lower the opacity, and lay the shades over each other until you find one that fits. And of course, the more 'realistic' you want to go with shading and lighting, the more shades you're going to want to be able to explore vivaciously :D.

Let's take a look at the same 3 beautiful actresses I mentioned at the beginning, with a bad color picked area and a better-ish color picked area. (Please keep in mind, these are not perfect comparisons, as I was not able to find pictures of all 3 actresses under the same kind of lighting.)

Kravitz's has a clear difference between the two, but they aren't too far apart, in comparison to Nyong’o’s and Jeffries’s. Note the dullness in the poorly picked shades as opposed to the better ones. Also keep in mind that while Kravitz has a rosy undertone (at least in that picture - it’s from The Batman, which has stylized coloring) Nyong’o has a slight cool undertone (I can’t pin down quite what, but the picture is definitely not stylized like Kravitz’s).

Jeffries runs more ochre or russet, but neither of those are pink. They are more red than terracotta or umber, but to call Jeffries’s face rosy would be wrong. Err more towards the golden when drawing her.

^^saved an image from a writing tutorial long ago, but can’t seem to find it. If someone recognizes it, I’ll link it. EDIT: it’s from this post. Thanks @autumnrowancollector ! <3

And also, the darker skin gets, the less likely warm undertones are going to appear. Don't be afraid to use blue or purple or even green on occasion!

Additionally, cool lighting on dark skin is always a win imo.

(I was going to use that picture of Jeffries as Annabeth by the lightning bolt, but then I realized the lighting on her face doesn’t quite match up with where it should hit from that angle, and I realized they kind of just turned everything bluer, so screenshot time!)

(Also if you want another really great live action example, check out anything Aldis Hodge is in, like Leverage and Black Adam)(and of course there’s Spiderverse <3 but I want to post pictures of Hodge)

Now, to here’s a list of more experienced people’s advice:

Black facial features & hair

Shading digitally for a (somewhat) monotone Black character

Stylistic choices and places to start looking for inspiration (besides a search engine).

Coloring Black people’s lips

A better coloration tutorial

Also a nice tutorial for Indigenous skin tones, just in case yall want to draw Piper or use this information for other dark skinned characters :).

EDIT: Some actresses who are closer in skintone to use for Annabeth, provided by the lovely @blackfemmecharacterdependency ! If you can’t find a reference for Jeffries in a specific lighting, maybe check out these ladies’ pictures! It’s a reblog, so scroll down.

TLDR: Don’t make Annabeth pink and pale, make her dark and golden.

❦°｡9:51 p.m. (m) — choi soobin

genre: dark content, mdni!!! ageless blogs dni!!!! serial killer!soobin, fem!potential victim!reader, thriller, light smսt

wc: 3.5k

warnings: talks of murder (but none actually occur), slight coercion, oral (m receiving), drugging, violence, weapons, blood, general insanity....

this fic contains dark content. please heed all warnings above and read at your own discretion.

soobin’s favorite color is red. 

he’s quite obsessed with it, really. his favorite shirt is a maroon button-up, his phone case has crimson details…he tries to look for it everywhere when he’s out and about, he surrounds himself with it at home. his favorite time of year is when the humid summer fades into mild autumn, as the change in seasons brings with it ruby leaves and dying trees — oh, death. in addition to the fiery shade, soobin finds himself enamored with eternal rest. it’s just oh so freeing, an end of a cycle, a path to purity. there is nothing more pure than the act of shedding the mortal skin to find a higher meaning — to be reborn. 

soobin likes helping people be reborn just as much as he likes the color red. 

but only people he finds worthy: the innocent ones, the ones who have placed too much trust in a world that is wrought with cruelty and had their hearts ripped out in the process. those are the ones who need saving, he thinks, and he finds great happiness, an overwhelming sense of pride, in being the one who can save them. it’s fate that brings him into these people’s lives, after all. something has chosen him to guide these people towards a greater path, to help the weak and downtrodden, the ones looking for betterment. there is no doubt in his mind that would cause him to think otherwise.

he adores helping people, but he wishes that they were just a bit more sympathetic to his cause. it’s not as if he enjoys hurting them, but his methods are the only way that any of this can be accomplished. no matter how much he tries to explain, they always scream and cry and beg to be let go, they always try to run away even if they’re bound…they don’t understand that all he wants to do is take them to a better place, yet they make it so difficult for him to be nice, to keep his composure. they always make him resort to extremes — but at the same time, he can't be too disappointed when they struggle. 

blood is unequivocally beautiful to him, after all.

the city has faded into darkness since he’s begun unwinding from the work week. soobin’s office job provides him with little joy and nothing to look forward to, so he often spends his nights taking walks about the city. sometimes, he’s looking for something, someone; and sometimes, he simply allows the cool air to soothe him, wandering without a particular goal in mind, just living. breathing. being. 

tonight, however, the former rings true. it’s been too long since he’s last aided a stranger. his previous succor occurred over three months ago, and the empty, unfulfilled feeling within his chest has chipped away at flesh and bone until nothing but a gaping cavern remains. it’s time to fill that aching void up again. he loves people, he loves helping them. it’s the only thing in his life that makes him feel truly alive. doing this is as vital as his need to breathe, to eat.

as he continues to stroll along the fog-shrouded road, he eventually spots his next potential project: you’re stumbling along the sidewalk in front of him, sobs ripping themselves from your throat so loud that he can hear them despite the significant distance separating himself from you. dressed in a creamy white coat and light wash jeans, you look like an angel from behind. he wonders what your face looks like, fresh with tears and red-rimmed eyes. where are you headed at this hour — alone, no less? more importantly, what’s gotten you so worked up? do you need his help? evidently, you might. it wouldn’t hurt to check on you.

quickening his pace, his long legs begin to close the distance between you and him. despite his intentionally loud footfalls, you do not seem to acknowledge his presence behind you as he approaches. you should be more careful; you never know who could take advantage of your vulnerable state, although he is grateful that he is the one to find you. he has only your best interests in mind, unlike the rest of the selfish population of this city. you don’t turn around even when he’s finally a mere few feet away, so lost in your own little world that its real counterpart has all but fallen away. 

“miss?” he calls, deep voice ringing out into the chilled air. an air of friendly concern is apparent in his timbre, and it’s not a lie. he really is concerned for you. “are you okay?”

your entire form jolts, feet coming to a halt as you spin around to face him — and oh, you poor thing. streaks of watered down mascara mar your cheeks, eyes round and bloodshot and glinting with tears beneath the streetlight above. your hands come up to wipe under your eyes in a weak attempt of hiding your current emotional state. evidently, it fails, gray spreading further across your face as he blinks at you, wrinkles forming between his brows while he waits for a response.

“i’m— i’m fine, thank you.” while your words are meant to placate his worry, your quiet, warbly tone is less than convincing. he decides not to pry too hard — you look halfway ready to flee as it is — instead opting to remain in place as he drinks you in. indeed, you look like an angel. even with your puffy eyes and kicked puppy expression, he finds you lovely, your voice soft and delicate like wind chimes. the overwhelming urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you safe from the world, flashes through his body. he pushes the feeling away. he can’t scare you away if he wants to learn more about your situation, whether or not you are worthwhile. 

“are you sure?” he gently asks. for a second, your eyes blink up at him, less guarded now. soobin is well acquainted with his effect on women, the softness he holds in his voice and gaze, the openness of his features that must scream trust me. he can tell that he’s got you when you toy with your bottom lip for a moment, gaze trailing off towards the side of the side as you decide to continue this conversation with him. you easily could have walked away, or even told him to leave you alone, but you don’t. you don’t, and he feels his heart pound in excitement because of it.

staring down at his shoes, you murmur, “yeah, it’s just— it’s stupid, actually, nevermind.”

“well, it surely can’t be that stupid if it made you cry.” and your upset mask cracks just the slightest bit. so pretty. so, so pretty. your smile causes every single nerve ending in his body to tingle. a smile forms on his own face, and something in the air between you changes in that moment. a mutual understanding that you won’t be explaining the reason behind your tears right now, but some company would be nice. 

a convenience store lies maybe twenty feet up in the road, and he falls into step with you once you ask if he’d like to grab something to eat there. he quickly learns that you prefer the veggie triangle kimbap over any other flavor and that you have a borderline strange obsession with banana milk, but he still hasn’t learned your name. as you continue talking, the realization eats at him. he likes you, he thinks that you’re sweet and kind — too kind for this world. you deserve better. if he continues to get close to you, maybe you’ll be understanding enough to accept what he’s trying to do here. soobin can be quite patient, after all, and you seem more than worth his time. however, his first step in this plan is to learn your name. 

leaning against the counter next to him, you beat him to the punch. “i never got your name.”

fuck, your voice sings so prettily in his ears, and you look so shy, so demure just asking that. how sweet you are. all he wants to do is wrap you up and protect you, hold you close and shield you from everything terrible. instead, he swallows down a mouthful of ramen and gives you a charming smile. “soobin. choi soobin.”

“that’s a nice name,” you say, innocent eyes peering up at him. the redness has receded to the edges of your scleras, the puffiness of your face slightly calmed down. he’s made you feel better, but he knows he can eliminate all sorrow from your life, if you’ll allow him to.

“i’m sure yours is prettier,” he says, voice trailing off at the end. with a playful roll your eyes, you provide your own, and his grin grows wider. “ah, i was right.”

the flustered press of your lips is enough to tell him that his plan is working so far. your naivety is endearing to him. it makes everything easier — even better, when he asks to walk you home after citing potential danger, you accept without a single hint of doubt, eyes wide as you comment that you hadn’t thought of that. so sweet, so trusting. no one else will be able to hurt you now that he has set his sights on you.

“would you…like to come in?” you ask as soon as you reach your building, shyness returning in full force. hope drips from each word, your fingers nervously fidgeting at your sides. he can’t help but accept your offer. he’d honestly be a fool not to.

your apartment is a modest one-bedroom with a small living room, a living room in which he finds himself in as you busy yourself in the kitchen. trying not to stare too hard at your form over the small island that separates the two rooms, he busies himself with picking at a loose thread on the couch. for some reason, nerves eat at his stomach, festering there like a swarm of wasps. he’s never had someone invite him into their home so early on. this is new, different — he’s not sure what to do with himself. 

“could i offer you some water? or tea?” you call. he swivels his head to find you looking at him while waving a teapot in the air. the moment you realize what you are doing, you drop your arm, your free hand coming up to scratch your cheek. 

holding back a chuckle, he offers a kind nod. “tea sounds wonderful, thank you.”

this seems like the correct choice, if your wide grin is anything to go by. would you look the same if he tells you what he plans with you? would you understand? he’s not sure yet, but he will learn with time. so far, you’re his favorite, even if he’s known you for less than an hour. you are the closest to being untainted. perhaps it’s a selfish desire, but keeping you around for a bit longer than the others wouldn’t be so bad. he ponders if he should just take you with him now just as he did with all the others. he’s got a packet of pills in his trouser pocket waiting to be used, it would almost be too easy to slip one into your drink given your acute lack of awareness. at the same time, he has learned from his past mistakes; patience will bring his plan to fruition. this is just the beginning.

a mug of tea appears before his eyes, and he swallows down a flinch before he’s reaching out to take it from you. your fingers just barely brush against his, nearly making him drop the mug. your skin — it’s soft, warm. he wants to feel it more, have his palms run over every one of your curves, feel your chest against his as he takes you…he swats those thoughts away as he shifts uncomfortably. 

silence fills the space between you, a blanket over his head meant to suffocate him. he takes a sip of the steaming hot tea, a dark, cloudy amber in a pompompurin mug that just seems so you. the tea itself blooms sweet on his tongue, notes of honey and lavender coating his taste buds, his muscles relaxing into the couch as he continues to sip the liquid, eventually downing the rest. he glances over to find that you have shrunk into yourself, sock-clad feet curled up onto the couch while your hands grip your own mug close your chest. 

“i’m going to go to the bathroom, i’ll be right back,” you say suddenly, placing your mug on the coffee table before scurrying off. the bathroom door slams shut, the lock clicking immediately after, leaving him alone. he stares at your mug. the item taunts him. come on, put something in there. mix it up and take you now. 

he shouldn’t. he should be patient, but the opportunity is right here for him to take. you’ll be understanding once he explains everything to you. you’ll be different from the others. 

so he slips a pill from his pocket and drops it into your mug, watching the capsule dissolve into the transparent liquid. the slight change in color and opacity doesn’t worry him — it’s not as if your perception is that acute. when the sound of your approaching footsteps forces him back to his side of the couch, his heart begins to pound against his ribcage so hard that he fears it may burst. keep it together. you won’t notice. 

instead of plopping onto your original seat, you make the bold decision to sit down right next to him, facing him. biting your lip, your eyes flit to the floor, then back to him. an invisible magnet pulls you closer. once mere millimeters separate your faces, he pauses, staring down at the way your chest stutters, so close to his own. he should stop this — he just met you, but the way you trust him so easily is doing things to him that he’s never felt before. this twisting feeling in his stomach…it’s so sweet, and you’re just so cute. he wants to protect you. he wants to use you. 

it’s unclear who commits first, but his lips are pressed against yours. softness is the first thing that he registers, then the uncertainty that freezes you against him. a hand moves up to cup your jaw, holding you close to him as he moves his lips gently against your own. slowly, you begin to reciprocate, lips parting to allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. slow, soft...it’s everything soobin has wished for in his lonely life. this kind of connection, this gentle intimacy that is now filling that empty hole in his heart that has always yearned to be filled. he has kissed others before, yes, but he’s never felt like this.

the feeling is quickly becoming too much for him, especially now that your hands are sliding their way towards his waistband. pulling away, he grabs your hands, holding them as holds your gaze. “you don’t have to. i know we just met—”

“but i want to,” you pout, wide, pitiful gaze burning through his as you slip off the couch and onto the wooden floor, your hands leaving his to rest on his thighs. “don’t you want it too?”

he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but the sight of you on your knees between his thighs with a cute little pout gracing your lips makes him wonder what you would look like with his cock shoved down your throat, tears streaming down your face as you choke on him. 

pawing at his thighs, you plead, “please, soobin? you helped me feel better, i want to make you feel good too. please?” 

you might just start crying if he doesn’t let you — and he would hate to be the reason why, so he gives in with a nod, helping you unzip his trousers and shove his boxers down his thighs, revealing his hard dick to your eager eyes. your hand looks so small compared to him, barely able to wrap around his girth as you begin to pump him, lips wrapping around his cockhead and your tongue slipping into his slit to taste the salty precum gathered there. he groans, head thrown back against the couch as he resists thrusting up into your mouth. 

“so good, fuck,” he groans, his voice trailing off into a moan as the pleasure begins to build, your hums against his cock sending him straight towards euphoria. suddenly, your head lurches forward, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can, your hand pumping what you are unable to fit. his eyes roll back into his head, staccato moans leaving his lips while you bob your head up and down, your throat contracting around his cockhead before you’re pulling yourself off with a cough. 

he tries to move his hand to caress your hair, to give you some semblance of comfort, only to realize that he can’t. his arms won’t move, nor will his head, or his legs — or anything. wait, what the fuck? what’s going on with him? all he can do is sit there and watch as you continue to pump him faster, licking up his precum at his tip until he cums in weak spurts into your mouth. he can’t even cant his hips, and he can barely feel his orgasm wash over him, numbness spreading across his body. humming, your eyes flutter shut as you swallow his release. when you look up at him again, the glint within them has changed. darker, cunning. 

“i know your secret.”

when he doesn’t respond — his mouth won’t move — your smile grows sharp, predatory. moving to stand between his legs, you lean down to his level, brow raising when his attempt to speak results in unintelligible groans. “aw, cat got your tongue? that’s fine, makes all of this easier for me.”

all of this? what the hell are you talking about? why can’t he move? 

you seem to recognize the confusion swirling in his umber irises, booping his nose with a manicured finger before you’re turning around and reaching for your mug. inspecting it’s contents, you take in the cloudy liquid before your focus returns back to him, amusement apparent in your tone. “you tried to drug me! that’s so cute!”

setting the mug back down, you slink back over to him. 

“y’know, soobin, i thought you’d be smarter than this,” you pout, sitting next to him and throwing your legs over his lap. no matter how much he wills himself to move, he’s frozen. all feeling has left his body, not even the sensation of your nail gliding along his cheek registers. “drank all that tea and didn’t even notice, you poor thing. can’t speak, can’t move, whatever are you going to do now? can’t kill me like the rest of them now…”

oh, fuck. you know — you’ve known this entire time. you’ve lured him into your trap, and he fucking fell for all of it, didn’t even question why you invited him in so easily, why you weren’t worried about a complete, potentially dangerous stranger being in your home. he couldn’t have planned for this outcome if he tried. 

“you got too cocky, baby,” you giggle, right hand reaching between your legs and into the cushions, coming up with a large knife. “never thought someone like me would pull a stunt like this, did ya? isn’t it exciting being the victim for once? i just love the thrill.”

“and you know what else i like, binnie?” you coo, tracing the silver blade against his jawline. muscles melted into the couch, soobin can only emit fearful grunts as you dig in and break skin. blood bubbles up to the surface of the wound before spilling down his neck. fuck, you cut him deep, but he can barely feel the pain.

a snap of your fingers guides his attention back to you. “i love red, just like you.”

swiping a finger through the blood dripping down his neck, you bring it up to your lips and suck, moaning at the iron-rich taste. you’re the farthest thing from the innocent lamb he painted you as. you’re fucking psychotic, pupils dilated and grin so wide your lips may split at the corners as you climb into his lap, knife now pressed against his throat. he’s completely at your mercy — your prey. cornered, nowhere to go.

“i think we’re gonna have lots of fun together,” you coo, pressing a venom-laced kiss against his lips, the bloody blade cutting into him once more. “don’t you think so too?”

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

Finally start PTN, i am currently on 2-2(?)

my thoughts :

Why the feck everyone suddenly submit to me when i got my shackle on.

The UI and lobby is so easy and pleasing to the eyes, honestly, HI lobby and UI confuses me and seems overwhelming, but the UI seems good in PTN

I wish i can make some flashes faded into black instead of white, the color palette of the whole game is so nice to play at night or in dark room or sensitive eyes,but the fading is a tad bit ughh

Nightingale hot.

I didn't know we gotta dodge Boss attack by moving sinner around.

How does shackle works? Is it depending to Sinner's skill? Like professional sinners are more likely to able to escape our shackle?

I like how this game don't download whole audio and give us option if we want to download animations and audios, good for saving storage.

The shading and art style are so good, the story is quite easy to follow,i played game similar like PTN and the story is a bit confusing to my small brain Dislyte

Nightingale hot.

The gacha system is cool!Love you gotta move the aim window to see the character you have arrested!And so many skins for characters!

This game is waaayyyy more generous for new player???? /pos

This games makes me confuse if the sinner is trully the "antagonist"? Because everyone doesn't seems to be an anti-hero nor anti-villain. So far everyone has their own agenda and just happen to coincide with us??

Women.

I actually liking the EN VA for this?Because i don't like the EN in most of the games but i enjoyed this one?

Again, everyone in my shackle just submitted fully (voluntarily or not) and idk how to feel about it.

I don't like controling them,i feel baaadd

Women♡

---

God,Nightingale looks too young in my style, i am sure i will get used to drawing her.

Hello, could I request Alastor romantic relationship headcanons with a female half angel/half human reader? Please and thank you.

My Devotion

Alastor x Half Angel!Reader (headcanons) TW: None? join my discord!

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it took this man quite a while to warm up to you to even be friends, honestly

while Alastor had many enemies, angels were a totally different type of enemy to him

even if you were only partially an angel

when he was summoned to the living plane because of some foolish mortal getting a little too bold at a drinking party...

something was tugging at him

like a force needing him to go somewhere. urgently.

so, naturally, he followed

he couldn't really explain, even to himself, what was telling him to go

maybe his knack for finding and causing himself entertainment and mischief?

curious he was, then, when he approached a seemingly ordinary human, relaxed against a tree in a shaded, grassy spot some ways from the typical path

you noticed him before he had a chance to decide whether or not to announce himself

surprisingly you didn't seem off put by his incredibly demonic appearance

you even seemed to have an expression of recognition?

interested was probably the better word

there was something off about you

maybe it was that higher-than-life aura that seemed to radiate from you

or the way light seemed to reflect off of you brighter than natural

you closed the gap between the two of you first, hands on hips and eyeing him up and down

"i didnt know your kind was allowed up here"

"things happen" why did you seem so normal about seeing a demon?

"i would know" you had laughed in response. which he found odd

you were, simply put, odd

you intrigued him terribly, and he found himself returning to the same spot quite often to see you

since getting summoned to Earth, it just so happened that it enabled him to travel back and forth between it and Hell, though it was exhausting

color him surprised when he arrived one day to find you massaging a pair of angelic wings

they were small compared to the standard angel, and you only sported one pair, but he knew right away what you were when he saw them

there was a brief period of time after this that he stopped showing up. and honestly? you couldn't blame him

he was a sinner. a demon. and you were an angel (half, but still)

but the odd tugging at his heart, and some foreign sense of longing, drug him back to see you again

"i guess you would know," he said after sneaking up on you. you were reading some novel

he berated himself for not noticing earlier. the way your skin, your hair, your eyes... all seemed to just glow with a heavenly sheen

honestly he chalked it up to the lighting

he didn't trust you now. not one bit. but he still came

you seemed genuinely surprised to see him again, and he hated how bright your smile seemed

once your meetings fell back into a regular rhythm, alastor strangely found himself looking forward to seeing you

you probably fell for him first. and suffered for quite some time, yearning for his affection

you were just as confused as he was towards the emotions you both unknowingly shared

alastor eventually started bringing you tokens of affection. small, but noticeably thoughtful things, like a bud of your favorite flower or some interesting food he brought from Hell

you were always curious to try things from there

you knew your wings would probably be torn from your back if any of the higher powers found out you were being courted by an overlord of all things

alastor knew this too

this didn't stop either of you

"my devotion to you is breaking the rules of reality" alastor proclaimed to you, after months and months of a slowly building relationship

and you knew he was devoted. like, he would never admit it, but he practically began worshipping you

considering he had never felt emotions like this before, it seems only natural for him to become obsessed with the one that makes him feel so strongly

he became more comfortable with seeing your wings over time, though there was still this sick feeling that plagued his stomach whenever he was near. probably just a natural demonic instinct to feel when near a holy being

he enjoys lightly petting the feathers, picking out anything that may have gotten caught in the intricate formation of your wings

alastor battles daily with himself, cursing himself for putting your entire being in danger, but also being selfish enough to continue seeing you

oh, how he wanted to corrupt you

to see those beautiful white wings of yours drip red

Hi can you do halsin Gale and Astarion with a very explicit and flirty paladin s/o who looks super stoic and serious please?

Like they’re there standing stoic and menacing and then whispers in their ear the dirtiest pick up line ever?

Like I think they’d have a funny reaction!

Feel free to refuse ofc! Thanks anyways!

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would Halsin, Gale, and Astarion react to a paladin who looks stoic/strict only for them to be an explicit and flirty?

(Damn, reminds me of my PaladinLMAO)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Oh, darling, and just when I thought you were as dense as a brick wall. I never could have guessed that beneath all that was a cheeky little flirt. All that dirt coming out of such a filthy mouth, you ought to have someone clean it out for you, my sweet.”

He was the one being the flirty ass at first, hitting on you in every teasing way he could think of with the hopes that perhaps someday he’d get a reaction out of you for his own amusement.

You never seemed to comment on his “advances” at first, you remained as stern as usual with little but a side glance to offer.

Probably got personally offended each time his usual charms failed but he was persistent. More so because he wanted to prove that he could truly seduce even the most stoic of hearts.

He made it his personal mission to make you crack, but along the way, he may or may not have fallen for you. Regardless, the realization absolutely horrified him.

Perhaps he just has the worst luck ever or you finally started to begin your master plan of turning the tables against him but nevertheless, he wasn't prepared at all for what you had in store for him.

He was already taking quite the liking to you, so the moment you began whispering such depraved yet smooth words into his ear, he was shocked and speechless for the first time in years.

His mind was practically breaking apart as you laid out every filthy thing you had in mind. He truly couldn't tell if this was utterly fucked or if he was somehow into it.

You would be the sole reason a tint of color finally appears in his otherwise undead skin. The tint being a bright shade of red of course.

He goes from being startled, angry, confused, flustered and then eventually hitting you right back with a little pick up line of his own once he’s finally calmed down.

Now both of you end up teasing and flirting with each other as sneakily as possible, both of you trying to outdo the other in terms of who could fluster whom the most.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“I…oh gods, love, you truly don't understand the things you do to this heart of mine. Of all the weaknesses I could have possibly gotten, you are one I’d welcome with open arms. I have stood proud amongst a Goddess but for you? I’d fall to my knees.”

He was slightly intimated by you at first by how stoic you appeared to be. You seemed like a person who’d prioritize business and work above all else, repelling anyone with nothing more than a glare.

He wasn't even sure how to approach you, he was already admiring you from afar but he feared that you would have never felt the same. Not when it felt as if your heart was locked within walls of stone.

He tried to shoot his shot once or twice, but they were always met with a few words of acknowledgment or even worse, a mere nod.

As much as he wished to simply move on from his utter fixation on you, he can't help but pine. You’re something he's grown to truly desire in ways he could hardly express.

However, one way or another, every little attraction he’s felt for you thus far is revealed by him. Completely exposing just how smitten he truly is by you and perhaps that single moment of true vulnerability is what finally made you snap.

Pull him close and abruptly whisper every depraved fantasy and dirty pickup line you've thought of just for him and he’d die. I mean, melting right then and there into a puddle of shame.

For a man who talks too much, he suddenly becomes oddly quiet, his eyes wide with a certain gleam of helplessness that makes him look all the more exposed to you.

For once in his life he’s stuttering his words, barely even able to hang onto a sentence without having to take a moment to breathe or silently whimper out in a mix of embarrassment, confusion, and frustration.

Dropping one of your pickup lines would be just enough to have this man in a chokehold. Truly. It’s one of the only ways to actually silence him.

He’s not one for pickup lines but he’d try his damn best to voice out his admiration for you similar to how a poet would describe their one and only muse. Through each sweet whisper, you dare utter, he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“My heart, I beg of you. Each word, each whisper, even the soft tingle of your breath against my skin- you are a walking temptation that I so longingly wish to taste. My blood runs wild when you are near and I fear what I may do to you if you if you continue on.”

He was hardly bothered by the fact that you seemed a tad bit uptight. He has met far too many people similar to you and he’s learned better than to judge someone based on appearances alone.

Doesn't change the fact that he was in fact attracted to you.

The thing is, he respects you too much to ever make a move. At least, not for a while. Most conversations you’d have with Halsin were of the friendly sort at first, prioritizing the mission at hand before anything else.

However, in truth, the way his eyes practically brightened and his breath ever so subtly quivered when you approached was something you could have slowly picked up on.

He eventually slides very discrete hints about his attraction toward you, simply testing the waters to see if you would reciprocate. However, he truly never expected you to actually take the bait.

Before he could even properly make a move on you, you were already whispering every one of your sweetly depraved desires into his ear, catching him completely off guard.

He knew that there must have been more beneath your hardened exterior but he would have never suspected this. But is he complaining? Absolutely not.

But do be careful when and where you decide to whisper such things to him because you may or may not be seconds away from being utterly ravished by one bear of a man against the nearest surface.

Do so in public spaces where it's safe to tease him, giving you the freedom to watch as his breath heaves and his voice breaks just by the smoothened words coming out of your dirty mouth.

Nevertheless, he’s absolutely obsessed with your little flirty remarks, said remarks being enough to fluster him instantaneously. All the lovers he had taken in his life and yet he had never met one who could madden him as much as you do.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

Pool Party ♡

Featuring 🌷: jimmy uso + female!reader

Warning ☁️: angst, choking, semi-public sex, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, rough sex, angry sex, mirror sex, thumb in butt (sorry!), creampie, 18+ Minors, please don’t interact. Thanks! ୨୧

Word count 🌷: 1.4k

Scenario ☁️: Thanks so much for this request! Due to the extreme weather, you’re irritable but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna disrespect Jimmy.

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As the scorching sun casts its relentless heat on the Saturday afternoon, the thought of enduring Grayson and Austin's pool party made you feel like you were truly in hell.

Jimmy, your ever-enthusiastic boyfriend, was bustling around, tossing a pack of Seagrams into a cooler.

“You ready, bae?”

“Mhm,” you muttered as you grasped your pool essentials and a handheld cooling fan, you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

The two of you got to the car and instantly you felt the rays beaming on your exposed back. You let out an exasperated sigh, sinking into the car seat with a pout.

“What’s up witchu?” Jimmy asked. His hand rests comfortingly on your thigh, a small gesture amidst the heat. But in your state of misery, even the slightest touch feels unbearable.

“Moooveeeee,” you groaned, “It’s too hot to be touching me!”

As the car's air conditioning struggled to combat the relentless heat, you flicked on your portable fan in frustration as the sweat began to form on your skin.

Jimmy tried his best to reassure you, adjusting the vents to direct the cool air toward you, but you maintained your pout the entire drive to the party.

As you stepped out of the car, the poolside atmosphere pulsated with energy and excitement.

In one corner of the backyard, guests executed impressive flips and dives into the pool, their splashes creating a symphony of laughter and cheers. Nearby, a group engaged in playful water wrestling matches.

Under the refuge of colorful umbrellas, other guests lounged on comfortable chairs, sipping cool drinks and engaging in conversations. Meanwhile, by the poolside bar, the clinking of glasses and laughter filled the air as they indulged in games and shots.

Amidst the lively scene, Greyson and Austin, approached with wide smiles and open arms, eager to welcome you and Jimmy. Jimmy, effortlessly fell into step with them, exchanging jokes and laughter as you stood off to the side, arms crossed and lips pursed.

He shot you a stern glare before wrapping his arm around you, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, "Quit," his tone a mix of warning and affection.

As Jimmy continued to banter with the guys, you sought comfort with your friends Samantha and Bianca under the shade of the umbrella patio. “Here boo,” Bianca giggled, breaking the tension as she passed you a cool margarita and a plate of refreshing fruits. “Relax a little.”

Sipping the cool, fruity margarita, you couldn't help but moan in relief, “Oooohhh..it’s so hot out here! How are y’all so calm!?”

Samantha, her attention divided between her man and the pool, shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been distracted," she admitted, her gaze lingering on Ricochet’s athletic antics as he jumps in the pool.

As you laughed and gossiped, the sun began to descend, casting a bit of shade. But just as you began to relax, the sun returned, hotter than before prompting you to reach for the sunscreen. Before you could react, Jimmy swooped in, lifting you effortlessly and falling into the pool. Did he really just Samoan Drop you into the pool!?

"JIMMY! WHAT THE FUCKKK!?" you screamed, your voice echoing across the backyard, your anger boiling over.

Ignoring the curious glances from the other partygoers, you stormed out of the pool, wrapping a towel around yourself as you made a beeline for Jimmy, his laughter still echoing in the air.

“Why the fuck would you do that, huh!? That shit ain’t cool, bro.” Your voice cut through the chatter of the party, drawing the attention of those nearby as you unintentionally caused a scene.

“Chill o—“

“Don’t tell me to fucking chill! You already know I didn’t wanna fucking be here, then you gone sit here and get me all fucking wet!?”

Jimmy's laughter faltered, replaced by a mix of embarrassment and irritation. He tuned out momentarily, trying to shield himself from the confrontation, but the disrespect made him reach a breaking point.

He sniffed, a hint of irritation creeping into his demeanor as he rubbed his beard. "Who you talking to?"

“You, bitch!”

Jimmy's embarrassment turned to rage. With a swift motion, he grabbed you and ushered you towards the pool house, his grip firm and unwavering.

“ What the fuck you say to me?” He asked, slamming you against the bathroom door, he locked it with a click before turning to face you, his eyes ablaze with suppressed fury.

“Don’t you ever call me out of my motherfucking name, ever again,” he growled, his grip tightening on your throat. “You gon fuckin’ embarrass me and show your ass in public. Especially when someone was just fuckin’ playing witcho ass!”

You watched in stunned silence, his normal goofy demeanor was now overshadowed by anger that radiated from his every word and gesture.

“…..You got me fucked up.”

Without a word, he grabbed you by the waist, bending you over the sink. The cold, hard surface of the sink pressed against your skin as Jimmy swiftly stripped off his swimming trunks as well as your bikini bottom. His movements fueled by a mix of anger and desire.

With a forceful gesture, Jimmy hung both sets of clothing over the shower glass panel. He looked at you in the mirror with a mean mug. Before you could avert your gaze, his fingers wrapped around your jaw, guiding your gaze back to meet his in the mirror's reflection, the intensity of his stare causing the flood gates to open in between your legs.

He lifted your leg up on the sink just enough to be able to push himself inside of you. Instantly, you began to hiss at him stretching you out.

“Ssss…bae-“

“Shut up.” He stilled inside of you, to help ease your discomfort. Though he was pissed, he still didn’t want to hurt you. Once you began to get used to his size, you started to throw it back on him, which made him grip your ass tightly in both of his hands.

He drives relentlessly forward in rolling thrusts, your ass clapping loudly against him. “Oh shit!” you moaned. He pulled all the way out of you before slamming back in, watching your face in the mirror.

“Jimmy…” You whined, staring up at him as he pushed in and out of you. He deepened his fingers in your back and began giving you slow deep strokes, caressing your spot. He was way too deep for you to handle.

Your moans slipped from your mouth, you literally sounded like a porn star. He wasn’t phased at all until you managed to get louder.

“That’s ya spot?”

“Yesss—“

“Right here?” He rasped into your ear. You thought he’d slow down but on the contrary, he began thrusting harder into you. You wanted so badly to get the hell away from him.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuckkk!" you screamed, putting your head down and gripping the sink hard enough to break a nail. Realizing that you’d gotten too loud, you tried to cover your mouth and grasp his arm to slow his strokes.

"Move. Your. Hand." He knew what he was doing, talking to you between every stroke. Looking down, he saw your cream coating his dick. You felt your core tighten as your legs shook.

Covering your mouth, Jimmy taunted you. "Why yo legs shakin' baby?"

"Talked that shit earlier, lemme hear you now.” He grinned as he quickly placed his hand on your throat, making you face the mirror.

"Pleeeaaasseeee." The words strained from his grip on your throat, you were barely able to think straight.

"Please what?" He teased, "Use your words. Whatchu’ want?" Jimmy removed his hand from your throat and put his thumb in your ass causing you to gasp.

"Cumminnnnnggg!”

Immediately getting on your tippy toes to run. Tears were running down your face as he pulled you towards him as you came on his dick. Your juices ran down both of your legs as your orgasm instantly triggered his.

He let out a low guttural sigh as he released inside of you.

Both of you froze at the sudden knock on the door, the sound jolting you from the blissful high. "Hope you kids are using protection!" Grayson quipped, his tone lighthearted yet tinged with mischief.

His teasing remark hung in the air, eliciting a nervous chuckle from both of you.

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Thanks for reading babe ☁️🌷

・❥ ・ @kumapassion @romanreignsbae @pittieprincess22 @cyberdejos2 @xoxoril3yyy @rwbypatootie @solefae @adoreesun @alyyaanna @shantinextdoor @zombiedixon89 @acknowledge-reigns @nashalis97-blog @browneyedgirlfriend4l @girlnred @theasiaabattoir @glitterywitchstarlight @brienivl @melaninpvssypoppin @nashalis97-blog @truefant4sy