UNTITLED *TBD*
A PREVIEW OF SOMETHING IM WRAPPING UP
warnings so far: teasing, mature, nerd!softrry, not proofread fr
Leaning in just enough where your lips brushed against his lips. Harry gripped your hips urging you to kiss him again but he was scared he was forcing you.
You grinned at his nervousness, pressing your hips against his groin so he could feel the pressure against his hard, and it worked. His mouth fell open, his hips bucked up, and he leaned foward. His eyes low, and his plumped lips begging to be kissed. His brows are furrowed as if he's determined and craving for a kiss.
You continued to grind against him loving the moan that is released from the satisfaction.
Your hips rolled so gently and he lightened his grip on you. He leaned forward trying to get your lips in a kiss but you dodged and went to tucking your face in his neck. "O-oh, please," He whined to you.
"What, baby? Mmh?" You muttered ‘cluelessly’ pulling back from his neck.
"K-kiss, p-please?"
The movement in your hips comes to a halt. "A kiss where, sweetheart? Use your words with me." You told him, he didn’t say anything he just gave you a small nod.
"Tell me is it.. Here?" You kissed his cheek.
"N-no," He shook his head with a whimper.
"Here?" You clasped his jaw between your fingers, tilting his head, kissing his bare neck.
"No," He mumbled.
"Then where, angel?" Voice sweet and innocent, so pure.
But nothing about this was innocent.
His eyes sparking with needy lust looking up at you, he was panting like a dog. Unable to give a proper verbal response he raised his hand to your face. He pushed his index finger against your lips, tapping lightly, "H-here. Please," He winced out. "Please, kiss me." His voice wavering all over the place unable to pick a pitch.
You bit your lower lip, moving against him again trying to get as close as possible. You moaned when you put pressure against his aching clothed friend down there.
Your hands moving into his hair, his grip on your waist tightening, unintentionally, due to the anticipation, he didn’t know what to do.
Laying a hard kiss against the boy's lips, he moaned and his cock twitched excitedly beneath you. Teaching himself to breath through his nose, he wouldn’t dare to pull away for a needed breath.
His hands rested on your hips slowly making there way down. Past your waistband, Harry so badly wanted to touch your ass. Staring at it all the time, he couldn't help it. When his hands slid down and felt the large curve and drop, he immediately shot his hands back up to your waist. Feeling he was overstaying his welcome.
You pulled away from the kiss.
"Go ahead, it's okay to touch it. It's yours now." You whispered crashing on his lips again.
Harry's breathing quickened unsure how any of this was real. His hard growing rock hard into your core.
His large palms found their way down to your ass cheeks. Taking the meat and groping your ass, you hissed out breaking the kiss.
Harry moved his hands almost immedia m tely, "I-i'm sorry-"
"No, no. I liked it, do it again," You nodded and he did. He was nervous but he got it. He groped your ass again, wanting to feel you skin to skin, he didn't want to admit he wanted this to end out sweaty and hot.
You pulled away, a groan escaping his lips from the lost contact. When you stared in his eyes, they were wild and excited wanting to continue. You didn't want to look down at the thick cock that was literally calling your name to make him nervous again, but you wanted to so and.
His swollen pink lips aching for more of yours. And you couldn’t help but fulfill his wants.
525 notes
·
View notes
to any americans who feel "paralyzed" and "dont know what to do" to help with gaza:
reading a fucking book. i beg of you.
in a time of knowledge suppression is it your duty to arm yourself with knowledge.
read about americas occupations in the middle east.
read about 9/11 from outside of america and see how they inflicted senseless harm and violence to countless amounts of people and have been suppressing your rights for the past 2 fucking decades.
read about any of the countless wars from the past 30 years. especially from a civilian's. and the victims and survivors' perspective. listen to the horror stories and do not plug your fucking ears as to what your country is doing.
and read about fucking gaza and palestine and keep up with what is happening no matter how "sad" or "uncountable" you might get.
dont look away from this.
you dont have the right to be comfortable during countless active genocides.
if you're knowledgeable, you're powerful, and our current state doesnt fucking want that.
you have the power to change things if you open your eyes and scream to the world.
wake the fuck up.
Edit: please check the reblogs there are readings and ways to help
25K notes
·
View notes
Can I... talk about the theory that winners help craft the next game?
Because, and I really can not say this enough, it puts So Much into perspective.
Everything starts out Normal. Three lives, simple, cut and dry, there hasn't been a winner yet. No one to help craft the game. (And there's something to be said about how simple it really was. Not even a real expectation of the world becoming pvp or combative. No idea of the war to come)
Then Grian wins. The green killer, the man who vowed his first life to the one whose life he took. The next game the boogie man is born. A mechanic that allows and, in fact, demands, a green kill. People can trade lives back and forth, currency and debt wrapped up in one. (can we still be friends? Said the red partner. A life time later and reds are hostile, alone. Maybe it's an answer: No. Not anymore)
Scott wins this time. He refuses to play the game. He will not kill his team, he will love and he will do so fiercely and with all of himself. The next game people are attached through to their very souls. Every bit of damage to one soul is done to its twin. There is no boogeyman. (There is no way for a widow to be left without their love)
Pearl wins and she wins a blood bath. Spent the game draped in red, only wolves for company. Sitting in her tower, shivering in ice, maybe she wanted it to end. To see where it would. Limited life rewards you for killing, limited life has a clock tick tick ticking down, you always no how long you have. A curse yes, but a blessing too.
Now It's Martyn's turn.
And what a turn it is.
Keep your secrets, says the disloyal man, keep them well. Everything hurts, everything Matters, says the man fracturing with every loss. (What if we could love each other without hurting? Says The Hand, who never wanted to be coated in blood)
More importantly, Martyn has always seen the watchers below the surface. Now, they're right here in front of him. Something that could almost... be rebelled against, no? Something that someone else could finally point to and say: hey, hey isn't that familiar?
11K notes
·
View notes