But In A Good Way (?) - Tumblr Posts

I am rapidly approaching your location with cookies and chocolate milk

some of you bitches deserve a nap and a milkshake tbh

Finally uploading my Hobie Brown art! I’m trying to work more with realism in a cartoonish way, and I hope I achieved it here.

I love him so much, he’s such a cool character with all of his piercings and attitude and his entire personality!!! Speaking of piercings, I might have given him too many in this piece I’m not sure though.

when one piece said "existing is not a crime" and when it said "thank you for loving me" and when it said "tell me you want to live" and when it said "being alone is worse than being hurt" and when it said "you're my friend" and when it said "someday you will find kind people" and when it said "there are people out there who will love you" and when it said

seonghwa + yandere with both ddlg and bondage kink + “you look so pretty tied up like this, all for me”

OOP- Yandere Hwa also lives rent free and I don't like it-

Warnings: Dom!Seonghwa, Sub!Reader, oral sex (f recieving), use of pet names (princess, kitten), stockholm syndrome, dom/sub dynamics.

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"Aww...you look so pretty tied up like this princess, all for me~"

Seonghwa walked over to the bed where he had you tied up, soft whimpers leaving your body as he walks over to you.

"Such a good girl for daddy. So obedient and willing to listen."

Seonghwa got down on his knees in front of you, blowing air onto your clit, chuckling at your body twitching from it.

The dark-haired male gives a teasing lick to your clit before dragging his tongue across your arching sex pulling a desperate-sounding whine from you. Seonghwa places his hands on both of your thighs before diving in, fucking you with his tongue.

All you could was cry out in pleasure and move against the restraints the male had on you. "F-fuck, daddy.." You whimper out and he slaps your thigh earning a yelp from you.

"Ah, ah..no bad words princess. What did I tell you?"

"Good girls don't say bad words.."

He hums in approval before returning to his work, smirking as he feels you attempt to buck against his face.

Seonghwa loved coming home and tying you up just so he could have you. He fought hard for you to be the obedient little housewife you were, killing off those who questioned him. Who tried to warn tell you that he was no good for you. Seonghwa simply canceled their life subscriptions so no one could dare question his love for you.

Then he spent months on months, molding you into the perfect little thing. It took him a while but then one day you were waiting for him in the kitchen after he returned home from work with a smile on your face.

"Welcome home, Hwa!"

Seonghwa was whipped and fell for you even harder, so even if you reverted back to your old ways, there was no damned way you were getting away from him.

Seonghwa smirked against your clit as he sucked on it, basking in your cute little moans. Just for him, all for him.

"Hmm..are you gonna cum kitten? Is my kitten so sensitive that she's gonna cum from just a little teasing?"

You nodded helplessly as your let out a pornographic moan as Seonghwa slips two fingers into you.

"Well then princess, You better hold on tight."

"Because daddy isn't quite finished with his princess yet~"

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@wooyoungsbae @yungisstar1117 @jonghoswhore @beomnoi @blessednhighlyfavoured @do-you-actually-care @soft-teddybear @captainjoongiekissme @hijirikaww @staymiracle @joti17 @lee--felix @abiaswreck @sunshinee0-0 @serialee @violetwinters @mingissoggywaffles @soobinshouseplant

I wanna squeeze him like a stress ball and squash him😭 HES SO SKRUNKLY

Of course y'all need to know what tea I am at 4am....

take this quiz and tell me what tea you are!

I WISH IT COULD !! I HOPE IT CAN !!

rid my dear if you’re not too busy, and still open for some drabbles, I have a request. All these amc on ry has me feeling soft and gushy, so my request is ry!tae and a!oc on their wedding night 🥹❤️🥰💍💐👀

fic: ruin you and ruined pairing: taehyung x reader (a!oc) genre: established relationship; pure fluff and smut warnings: confessions and a lot of love :(, they're simps for each other, bit of teasing, wedding talk; explicit sexual content: fingering, oral (f.), doggy and missionary <3, spit stuff, brief masturbation, biting (surprise), dom and big dick!tae (surprise pt2.), one pussy slap, he likes her ass, praising, so many petnames, he's actually SOOO fkn sweet :(, unprotected sex (condoms are cool), manhandling, multiple orgasms, lmk if i forgot smth <3 wc: 3k (u don't understand how much i miss them ok) a/n: i've not been feeling so well lately, so i was gonna say no to this request – but this ask stirred something in me, and now i miss them even more :') it's far from perfect, but i hope u still like it hehe i even made a banner !! :D lmk what u think <3 a/n2: the drabble belongs to my ruin you series (linked above), but if u'd like to read it as a standalone, that's totally possible, too! those are just newlyweds very very much in love 🥺

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ask my character! (no drabble requests anymore, please!) <3

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The sly smirk he shoots down to your awaiting body will never not feel new to you.

He towers above you, veined hands under his neck. His fingers slowly work at the buttons that yet keep his skin hidden, and your blood boils. Your heart vibrates. Your eyes dart back and forth between his gaze and his ring finger, now decorated with eternity.

With his shirt down and the melanin popping, he hastily removes his slacks; danger fills his words when his knees hit the mattress and he says, “You looked so gorgeous today.” You hold your breath, shifting back on the bed. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“Liar. You were too busy admiring the castle grounds and the fairy lights.”

Your back hits the headboard of the bed, but you don’t remain in the position for long. His strong grip settles around your already bare thighs, pulling you down the bed until you’re flat underneath him.

Drawing closer, he breathes against your skin, hands crawling up from your legs to your tummy and then to your breasts. He’s an enchantment, every single time… and despite the years you spent together, tangled up in your room, you don’t know how your heart will handle his unending affection.

You’re officially his now, aren’t you? Officially officially.

“You loved the lights and the flowers just as much, though, didn’t you?” he asks whenever his lips aren’t kissing down your neck and shoulders.

“I did…” you mumble, focusing on breathing, “didn’t expect anything else from us.”

“It was your idea.”

“No regrets.”

“No,” he places a hand on your cheek, brushing back your hair, “fuck no. Never any regrets.”

Taehyung is impatient today – and that says a lot, considering how he’s still moving slowly, carefully. The hour-long pleasure that usually keeps you awake at night falls away this time; his mouth journeys down your body and to your panties right away.

Wet kisses call goosebumps to the surface of your skin; he moans when you do. His fingers tug at the straps of your bra, pulling it down and freeing your perked nipples. The gust of wind through the open window makes you shiver.

“Today was really fucking long,” you murmur, whimpering when he bites your sides. “Fuck, I—”

“Yes. Yeah, what is it?”

“Can you hurry up?”

“You’re flattering me,” he laughs, hands on your hips as his face settles between your spread legs. “On our first day as a married couple, too.”

“Me telling you to hurry up is flattery to you?”

“Is it not?” He plays around the hem of your panties, and when his fingertips graze the spot near your clit, you almost shut your legs close. “You think hearing you beg for dick isn’t flattery?”

“Not begging…” you insist, though the both of you know just how fast he affects your mind. “Just—”

He slaps your pussy with a layer still inbetween; you yelp, looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows as he says, “I missed this.”

“It’s just been two days.”

“So? I miss you all the damn time.”

“Simp.”

“‘Kay,” he only voices before he buries his nose and mouth in your panties.

He inhales, lips toying with the fabric. Then, his tongue darts out, and you feel it subtly, slowly; your body reacts, and that’s all he wants.

Looking up at you, he finds your eyes closed in delight and lust. He dives in again – and this time, he flattens his tongue over your pussy, the material of your panties harsh against the wet muscle. You squirm, groaning, and your hands rush to his dark hair.

It’s still somewhat hard from the gel his tresses got styled with, but when you look at him, the damn loose strands send you into an endless spiral of craze.

“Taehyung—”

“Mmmh.”

His movements become more urgent; soon, he’s making out with your clothed cunt, nails digging into your legs and hips, and you squirm in his grip. Your reaction sends blood straight from his head to his cock, and when impatience wins once and for all, his face shoots up.

Your limbs are shivering already, your nipples impossibly hard. And with the look you wear, he can’t help but feel his underwear tighten. Nearly ripping your panties off of you, he throws them on the ground before finding his way back home between your thighs.

He doesn’t take a moment or two to prepare you for what’s to come; instead, he pushes your legs back immediately, starting to eat you out like a man starved. His tongue and lips feel soft against your pussy, and he keeps changing the pace.

From fast flicks to slow kisses, he doesn’t leave a spot of you untouched. His mouth glistens from your slick – you can see it even from here – and his hair tickles your pelvis. Nether lips spread, he brings a finger to your entrance, and when he teases it with circling motions, you shut your legs around his ears again.

“Fuck,” he says when he emerges anew for a breath of air. “One more time and I’ll leave you high and dry on your wedding night.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t, you’re right,” the shake and tilt of his head remind you of the devil; he will eat you alive, you know it, “but don’t you wanna come as many times as possible, baby?”

“Now th–that you say it…” you breathe out when he soothes the crescent moons his nails dug into your skin. “But hurry. Please.”

“‘Yeah, babe.” Taehyung’s finger pushes in between your walls, and your eyes roll back at the pleasant intrusion. “No need to worry at all.”

And then, he’s tongueing at your clit. Drawing patterns, watching you leak, his fingers drenched in arousal to their knuckles. He fucks into you slowly at first before he increases his pace, and with the tension already present in your tummy since dinner, you let go with a snap.

“Ohhhh, you— you fucking demon, I—” is all you manage.

He licks you through your high; you feel the smile against your skin. You might’ve remarked something snarky if he wasn’t robbing every little piece of your sanity.

Cautiously, he watches your expression, a deep crease between your eyebrows that relaxes bit by bit. You look drowsy, kind of hazy – the way you always do when an orgasm shakes your body.

“Baby,” he whispers innocently, and you almost scoff; though your reaction dies immediately when he adds, “Turn around.”

“Huh?”

Taehyung laughs, kissing your cheek, your nose, your forehead before he teases, “You really can’t think anymore, can you?” You let out a small snicker, shaking your head no. “Turn around for me.”

You attempt your best to do a 180, and his hands aid you, flipping you over before he lifts your hips. Balancing your body on your underarms, you throw the hair out of your face, and when you glance back a few seconds later, he’s… fully naked.

Pumping his cock.

Hissing, biting his lip. His jaw is clenched and sharp – you want it to cut you open.

You push your body back, wiggling your ass, but Taehyung’s free hand stops you in your tracks when he grabs a handful of your bum and squeezes hard. You let out a quiet vocal, and he says, “You wanna play with my sanity like that?”

“It’s what I’ll be doing the rest of my life, babe.”

“Good one,” he says, albeit not without a tsk and a roll of his eyes. You don’t see his pupils anymore – but you’re sure he did just that.

You feel the mattress shift when he moves closer; his cock rests between your ass cheeks, moving slowly. Leaking precum sticks hot against your skin, and he leans forwards until his chest almost touches your back.

“Here,” he voices, bringing his fingers to your mouth. “Need a good image of what you can do.”

You want to tell him that he knows exactly what you can do – pictures of his eyes rolled back, his cock throbbing in your mouth, your own eyes watering flash across your mind. The way he grunts and groans when he comes in your throat, his voice as deep as the ocean.

Fuck.

Words die on your tongue when he pushes the digits he fucked you with between your lips. It’s the same as always for you, neutral; your arousal awakens nothing in you. But you know he likes your fragrance, your taste, that it drives him crazy to feel you around him anyhow.

Like now.

You swirl your tongue around his fingers, bobbing your head back and forth, eyelids shut as he moans. You imagine that he’s thrown his head back; feel how rockhard he is for you.

His cock shifts down and prods your entrance – you think he’ll push in when you expect it the least. But instead, he removes his fingers from your mouth and says, “Spit on it.”

Offering his palm, he breathes in deeply again, and you land a blob of spit on his hand before it vanishes from your sight. Craning your neck again, you watch as he spreads it around his dick; veins pulsate along his curved length, and you drool at the size, at the sheer delicacy that’ll ruin you all night.

And then, he moves on the bed again, and you avert your gaze, preparing your body for what’s to come.

Wet and filthy, his cock slides in. A loud mewl of his name falls out of you, and your upper body threatens to drop. He fills you up slowly, knowing you need a moment to adjust to him; and once he’s sheathed himself entirely inside you, he asks, “All good, my love?”

“I’m okay,” you assure, your head spinning, “go ahead. Please.”

And so he does.

Starts fucking into you gently, his hips moving in circles. He watches the way his cock keeps disappearing inside you; listens to the sounds that tumble out of you constantly; sees it when you grab the sheets above your head.

“Can I go—”

“Yeah,” you say, already aware of what he’s going to ask, “harder… faster.”

“Okay. Okay, shit.” He pauses, taking the moment to ram into you hard. “Are you even real? Gonna break the bed, I sw— swear.”

He would. It’s not like he has never torn up the pillows in your bedroom. But if he does it here, the hotel staff might complain, so he better practice control tonight.

Even if you don’t want him to.

Taehyung used to tell you how his biggest flex in bed was composure. How he always knew what he was doing, every move calculated – and how all of this broke once he met you. You’re a fog, he always says. You don’t allow a clear mind… don’t allow calculations.

And you notice it in the way his hips snap against yours; the way he forgets the world around him. You jolt forwards, your legs giving in. But the weakness of your limbs doesn’t discourage him; instead, he falls onto you, careful to not crush you under his weight.

Flat on your tummy, you’re caged between the bed and him, raising your arms higher. And before you know it, his hands have wandered from your waist to your wrists, pinning them down on each side of the pillow.

His cock, impossibly solid and wet, fucks you insane – your thoughts are scattered when the curve of it hits an especially sensitive patch inside you.

And he… not even he can believe that you’re real. His thrusts push your ass upwards, both your bodies sweaty; he loves how you feel wrapped around his thick cock. So he lunges in harder.

You nearly scream, “Taehyung—” Your heart thumps wildly, and his teeth nibble at the shell of your ear, his breathing shallow and irregular against you. “Taehyung, fuck, I…”

“Talk to me. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I love you… so— so fucking much.”

You do.

You do, right?

And suddenly… something seems to change in the atmosphere.

Your words trigger something in his heart. Something deeply anchored, yet easy to grasp. The wild hammering of his hips calms down, and the firm grip around your wrists loosens.

“Baby,” he whispers, and you hum, feeble in his presence. “I’m sorry, but… can you— can you turn around again?” You hum again, and he adds, “Wanna see you.”

So you do.

Slowly, with sugar and honey in your eyes. No matter how lewd your actions, your eyes are always deep and dreamy. He thinks he sees your soul through them – shiny and bright, like no one else’s ever.

God, he’s in love with you.

There can’t be a day without you anymore. By the laws of fate and love, there can’t be.

With the tip of his member spreading your pussy again, one of his hands wanders to the nape of your neck. His fingers bury in your hair, his lips grazing yours. He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time – sighs along with you when his dick has vanished inside you again.

And then, before he starts moving once more, he admits, “I love you, too. I love you so much, it hurts.”

It hurts.

Every moment without him. You hate being dependent on people – but Taehyung has a hold on your heart that will keep suffocating you in the most delightful way. If that’s the silent ache love and eternal fondness bring, you don’t ever want your heart to stop bleeding.

Your moans, your whimpers, the crying out of each other’s names continue. The yearning, despite the closeness, doesn’t end. But his ministrations are slower now, his eyes lost in you. He doesn’t stop looking at you.

Only fucks you deeper, his pelvis brushing against your clit, untying the second knot that forms in your stomach. And he says, “I can’t… I cannot believe this.”

“What, baby?” you whisper, pushing the stray hair behind his ears.

“That this is happening…” You know immediately what he means. Not sex. Not intimate moments. You’ve had so many of those. But. “My wife. Aren’t you? My—” A sharp breath falls out of his mouth. “My baby, right? My wife.”

You might tear up… here and now. Your eyes are already welling up, glassier than his – and when he buries his face in your neck, kissing your flesh, you throw your head back. Eyelids flutter shut. The one tear priorly attempting to escape rolls out of your eyes and down your temples.

And when the contact of your skins keeps toying with your clit, you let go again at one particularly effective thrust. His name is all you seem to know – the rest of human language doesn’t make any sense anymore. Your voice breaks, your arms around him so tight that your muscles hurt.

Your husband.

Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung – a man you’ll keep forever. His thoughts, his smile, his touch. A future with him and mini hims.

Yours.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…” he manages, but you barely understand. “I love you. Love you. You feel so good, f—”

You press your lips together, still keening – and when he muffles his sounds against your clavicles, you know he’s close, too. He moves inside you once. Twice. And half a minute later, he’s spilling inside you, his seed hot and plenty.

A palm of yours slides down his body, to the firm muscles of his ass. He raises his head, madness in his eyes; his hair is dishevelled, in urgent need of a wash. But you think he’s prettiest like that.

Drowning in you. Unaware of his surroundings.

Taehyung is in love with you, and you will keep repeating it to yourself until you understand this fact’s reality one day.

“You’re perfect,” he then says.

His cock softens, the sheets damp from your sweat and filth – but right now, you couldn’t care less. His eyes pull you in too much, hypnotising; who could care about anything other than him?

“You are,” you tell him, and he smiles. Pecks your nose, and then stares at you with a blush dusting his cheeks. “And today was perfect, too.”

“It was, yeah? I’m happy if you’re happy, then.”

“You know what I loved the most?”

“Mmh… Slow dancing.”

Your eyes blow wide along with your mouth, and you tilt your head in the pretty way he adores as you say, “How did you know?”

“I saw it the moment we started. I knew you loved it,” he pauses, licks his lips, and you look at his mole for a moment, “but also because it was my favourite part, too.”

You nod slowly, pulling him into you a bit more. “We should slow dance more often, I think.”

“We’ll do anything you like, okay? We have all the time in the world now.”

Once again, you nod, and your eyes shimmer with purity. You’re indescribable – a wonder of nature. One of Monet’s paintings, right out of his mind, personified.

Taehyung never questions where you were all his life. Never thinks you should’ve crossed paths before. Because recalling his past, he doesn’t reckon he would’ve gotten into your heart this deep with the personality he used to wear.

Love had its time – and when the first tries failed, you appeared with a halo over your head.

It’s perfect. Every moment, every kiss, every fight and every piece of you – perfect.

The corners of his lips drop, his eyes suddenly sober. Worry creeps up your heart, and for a second, you fear he might slip back into the anxious moods that used to plague him. So you ask, “What’s wrong?”

But in reality… he and his heart are calm. Pleasant waves of tenderness swim in his eyes. And then…

Then he says, “You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart stops for a moment.

You take a deep breath; your waterline dampens again.

And he continues, “Don’t you ever dare to leave, okay?”

As if anything was easier than that. A request so obvious that you don’t even need to think twice before you promise, “I’d be an idiot if I did.”

That’s what you vowed at your wedding today. That you’d keep the beats of your hearts synchronised. That you’d never let him feel the absence of your warmth. And that you’d keep your fingers tangled with his.

That you’ve fallen for him once – and that you’ll keep falling for him forever.

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please lmk what u think and reblog if u liked it 🥺 !!

We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3

The shrill ringing of Gwyn’s phone dragged her from sleep. She twisted, peeling her cheek from Azriel’s naked chest, to fumble for the phone on her nightstand.

“I swear to God,” Azriel muttered, eyes still closed as she brought the bright screen towards her blinking face, “If it’s Jonathon, I’m going to commit a felony.”

It was Jonathon. Illuminated in the otherwise pitch black room, both her and Azriel stared for a moment. 

“I won’t—”

“Might as well,” he grumbled. “Tell him you’ve moved on.”

She scoffed. Moved on with who? Him? Still, Gwyn hit the green answer button, if only to beg him to stop calling her.

“What do you want?” she said by way of greeting as Azriel wrapped muscular arms tight against her. He burrowed his face into her hair, huffing out a breath of irritation. 

“What do I want? I want to talk to you–”

“It’s two in the fucking morning,” Azriel snarled, loud enough for Jonathon to stop what he was saying. Gwyn poked him hard in the stomach, forced out of bed to keep Azriel from saying anything else. Azriel watched, propped up on his elbows with an expression hidden in the darkness while she threw on her tank top and shorts from the night before. She didn’t need to see him to feel his disapproval. 

“Who was that?”

“Cassian,” Gwyn replied easily, apparently a practiced liar now. There was no way she was telling him she’d immediately jumped into bed with someone new. She knew exactly what Jonathon would say about that. How he’d twist things to make her the bad guy, telling all their friends she’d cheated on him or worse. “It is two in the morning. Can we talk about this later? Like when I’m home?” she added, pushing open the balcony door. The air was cool and breezy and perfect. She swallowed a breath of it, dropping into one of the wicker patio chairs and propping her feet up on the railing. 

“I want to talk now. It’s ten my time and all I can think about is how we left things.”

“Of course you want to talk,” she snapped, immediately irritated. “I had a nine hour flight and am exhausted, but since you’re awake, I should be too?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth, Gwyneth,” he snapped. “It’s ten your time, too, technically. I don’t know how you’re even still sleeping.”

“I just told you I was tired,” she retorted. What was she doing? The worlds hottest man was currently half asleep in her bed and she was sitting on a balcony arguing with her ex.

“Have you been working out? Did you go for—”

“Are you seriously asking me if I’ve gone to the gym?” Gwyn demanded as the glass door pushed open behind her. Az padded out in a clean pair of shorts, his handsome face twisting in a scowl. 

Hang up on him, Azriel mouthed, leaning against the balcony casually. 

“Sorry for worrying about you. I want to take care of you, Gwyn. I was thinking that you should tell Nesta you can’t do her wedding and come home so we can fix this—”

“I’m not coming home and there’s nothing to fix,” Gwyn interrupted snappishly. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m asking you to stop calling and texting me.”

“Because there’s someone else?” he demanded, picking a fight at the last possible second to keep her on the phone. It was his little trick and this time Gwyn wasn’t falling for it.

“Even if there was, it’s none of your business anymore. Stop calling me. I mean it. This is my best friends wedding. It has nothing to do with you.” And then she hung up before he could argue, silencing her phone just for good measure. He wouldn’t stop calling until he was given an answer that satisfied him. It was clear he meant to make this vacation all about him and if Gwyn wasn’t so worried he’d call Nesta and start more problems, she would have blocked him entirely.

Azriel offered her his full attention. “Did he really ask if you went to the gym?” His tone was dark and angry, like he was personally offended on her behalf. Men, she grumbled privately, rising from her chair.

“Like you wouldn’t worry the same,” she said, taking her irritation out on him. Azriel followed her back into the bedroom, closing the door behind them quietly.

“If you want to work out, I know just the thing,” he said, catching her from behind and pulling her into his body. One hand slid up her stomach to cup her breast, tugging at the nipple.

“Aren’t you wrung out?” she asked, thinking once again of Jonathon. Once was always enough, and good enough to wait several days in between. He thought constant fucking was pedestrian which had always bothered Gwyn, given her sex drive was pretty high. 

Azriel’s laugh was dark. “Hardly. It’s been four hours and I find I’m ravenous again.”

Jesus Christ he was so hot. Gwyn twisted in his hold, facing him in the dark.

“And if I did want to work out…how would you help?”

“I’d bounce you on my cock until you were breathless and coated in sweat,” he replied easily, nipping her earlobe with his teeth. “And then I’d flip you over and start again. Ass in the air, face in the pillow.”

Her legs were practically shaking while he pulled that tank top back over her head. Hands replaced the fabric, sliding up her skin to cup her breasts. 

“Is that all?” she asked breathlessly, arching into his touch. Azriel ground his cock against her ass, already erect. Tweaking at her nipple, he chuckled darkly.

“Not impressed? Tell me if I embarrass you.”

He gave her no time to offer a quippy response. Azriel’s hand wrapped around her throat as he turned her around, kissing her roughly while his fingers pressed against her windpipe. Gwyn didn’t think she’d ever been so wet in her life, and Azriel had barely touched her.

Settling between her legs, he rolled his hips, letting his erection rub between the fabric. It was what she needed, the friction lighting up her brain. She raked her fingers through his dark, thick hair, tugging at the strands until he groaned. Hardly unaffected, she thought smugly. There was something thrilling about whatever was happening between them. It was devoid of the usual awkwardness that came with dating—Azriel didn’t like her beyond her body, which meant Gwyn didn’t have to worry if he thought she was weird or too freaky or whatever other things got in her way. 

She could yank at his pants, demanding he reveal his gorgeous cock and he didn’t make her feel bad about it. He merely repaid the favor, all but ripping off her shorts before flipping them over so she could sink against the heavy, thick length of him. Gwyn exhaled a slow breath of relief, letting him fill her to the point of splitting. 

“Fuck,” he panted beneath her, hands holding her hips. “You’re so fucking tight.”

She didn’t care—men always said that. What Gwyn cared about was that first wet slide of his cock as he lifted her up only to yank her back down. He treated her carelessly, like she was something durable, something that didn’t break so easily. He fucked her the way she’d so often tried to get Jonathon to with little success. 

It made her like Azriel, in a weird way. Like he saw beyond whatever existed externally and just understood instinctively they wanted the same things. Or maybe Gwyn was merely projecting that long held crush and Azriel didn’t give a fuck whether she enjoyed herself or not, so long as she was.

“I’m going to fill you up and fuck you again,” he whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Everyone’s going to think you’re jetlagged, but you’ll know, won’t you?” She whimpered, her tits bouncing in time with his vicious thrusts. She had her nails pressed so tight against his chest she might have drawn blood. 

He didn’t seem to care, if his bruising touch was any indication. Not when his thumb met the apex of her thighs, rubbing over her slick clit like he’d done in the bathroom. It was all so second nature to him, getting her off like it was his only pleasure in life. Gwyn had been half prepared to fake it, had already begun to before he started rubbing. Their eyes met and she realized he knew what she was up to.

“Not with me,” he growled. “If I’m doing something you don’t like, you need to tell me.”

“Okay,” she breathed, heart pounding in her throat. Had anyone ever been hotter before that moment? She didn’t think so. Not when she came around him with a soft cry and certainly not when he pulled her off him just as he’d promised to put her on her hands and knees.

The change in position made her toes curl, her body lock. Azriels cock was massive, thick enough it made her ache and long enough he was all but banging up against the natural barrier of her body. He wielded it not like a weapon despite each punching thrust, but like a tool meant to drag every inch of pleasure from her. 

And god it was working. Azriel wrapped her hair around his fist, arching her neck so he could squeeze again. Teeth scraped over her skin as he whispered, “Are you going to be my good girl and come for me again?”

She clenched hard around him, whining her assent. Gwyn, who had never once come from penetration alone, was writhing as the head of his cock slid over and over and over against some soft part of her pussy, touching as if it were his tongue against his clit.

She came with a strange, jerking violence, overwrought and too-sensitive.

“Please—”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he replied, too breathless to be truly believable. Gwyn buried her face in the bed, coming a third time as Azriel did for the first, groaning loudly as he pushed deep inside her. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, sounding as if he’d just run a marathon. She looked at the clock on the nightstand, a holdover from a time where people didn’t carry phones in their pocket.

4:50.

She swallowed. It felt like five minutes. 

He pushed her into the bed, pulling out and unwrapping the condom she hadn’t even realized he’d been wearing. Hardly a positive sign, given she hadn’t even really known him for longer than a day.

“Want breakfast?” he whispered into the rapidly lightning dark, pulling her against his body when he collapsed to the bed. “I’m starving.”

“I have something you can eat,” she said without thinking about it. Azriel turned his head, grinning.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

By the time Gwyn and Azriel made their way out of the their shared suit, it was nearly eight in the morning. Azriel had gone down on her, taking his sweet ass time given she’d just come three times on his cock—and then again when she tried to shower, he’d fucked her up against the glass, massive hand wrapped around her slim throat. 

It seemed like they weren’t the only ones who’d been up all night having sex. Lucien Vanserra was staring absently at a wall, fork in hand. His broad chest was littered with teeth marks and his hair was suspiciously tangled, as if he’d just managed to get to the buffet–and it had been rough. Elain seemed fine, bright eyed and cheerful, talking to Arina Vanserra animatedly. 

Nesta, too, had that same lust fogged look Gwyn prayed she didn’t. 

Azriel peeled off to eat with Rhys, casual and unbothered. Like there was nothing strange between them. Like she hadn’t eaten her out until she all but saw God. It left Gwyn to drop beside Nesta and put her head on Nesta’s shoulder. 

“Sleep well?”

“Enough,” Gwyn agreed, wishing she could tell Nesta this. It was Nesta’s wedding and Gwyn would be damned if she fucked it up with her personal drama. She very much doubted Azriel, sitting with his back to her four tables away, wanted her to blab all about their very casual arrangement, besides.

“I got none. It’s like Cassian doesn’t need sleep,” Nesta grumbled, watching her fiance join Rhys and Azriel at their table. All three of them were shirtless and tattooed and had captured the attention of half the women in the room without ever meaning to. Both Gwyn and Nesta fell silent for a moment, drinking in the muscular forms of the men eating, totally oblivious that they were the object of a lot of different fantasies.

Gwyn hadn’t thought it was possible to feel any more arousal. Her pussy was all but bruised from Azriel’s attention and yet she still found herself imagining herself laid out before him, his own personal feast.

“I need to go into town,” Nesta told Gwyn, a frown on her face. “They are short some of the liquor we ordered. I don’t want to ask Eris for it, so–”

“I’ll go,” Gwyn said quickly. “Don’t worry about it. Just give me a list, I’ve got this covered.”

Nesta’s face collapsed with relief. “Really?”

“What good is your maid of honor if I let you run yourself ragged. Give me your list and then join Cassian out on the beach.”

Nesta nodded. “I’ll text it to you, Split it with Azriel, while you’re at it. I know Cassian won’t make him do anything but shots while we’re down here.”

Gwyn glanced back to Az, who turned his head, having caught them talking about him. “What’s his deal, anyway?” she asked when he turned back around.

Nesta was smiling, likely at Cassian though Gwyn was still staring at the bunching muscles in Azriel’s tattooed back. 

Nesta shrugged. “He’s just…Az. I don’t know how else to describe him. Why?”

God, Gwyn could never admit that her crush on Azriel was back in full force. Nesta would try and play matchmaker, and where would that leave Gwyn? Embarrassed. She bet Az had a line of women down the block, all waiting on him.

“He’s just quiet.”

“God, did he go in and immediately lock himself in his room?”

Hardly.

“Yeah,” she replied, unsure what else she could say. Certainly not that he’d been in bed with her all night. It didn’t matter. Gwyn’s phone rang shrilly, drawing Azriel’s attention back to her and Nesta’s attention away from Az. They both peered down at the screen.

“Jonathon?” Nesta asked. “What’s he want?”

Her heart pounded anxiously in her chest. There was no escaping him, not after this morning. She needed to just face the music.

“Send me your list,” Gwyn said, rising from her chair. She could feel Azriel’s eyes burning against her skin. “I’ll be back.”

Gwyn answered the phone just outside the hall. Warm, morning air slid over her skin as she said, “Hello?”

“Are you awake now, Gwyneth?” 

God, she thought she hated him in that moment. “Or should I try again in five hours?”

“You should stop calling,” she hissed, walking towards the massive courtyard where the fountain stood. “Like I’ve asked you repeatedly.”

“I need to talk to you. Is now a good time?”

“No!” she exclaimed angrily. “I’m trying to help Nesta with her wedding and yet somehow, I’m still worrying about you! You have managed to make this vacation all about you! What could you possibly—”

Her phone was pulled from her hand before she could finish. Azriel, shirtless, beautiful Azriel, put her phone to his ear.

“You don’t understand the word no?” he asked in that deep, dark voice of his. He didn’t wait for Jonathon to respond. “Let me explain. It means no. Don’t call her again.”

He hung up before Gwyn could warn him. Instead, she smacked him in his rock hard stomach. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I hate him,” Azriel replied smoothly. “And you’re too nice.”

“I don’t think either of them are good reasons,” she snapped. “He’s going to keep calling–”

“Might as well give him my number, then. He can beg me for a date.”

She looked up at him, drinking in his unwavering confidence with a mixture of awe and irritation. “I didn’t think he was your type.”

Azriel smirked. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” she said with exasperation, yanking her phone back out of his hand. Already, she had a text from Jonathon.

I know that wasn’t Cassian. Are you seeing someone? 

She ignored it. “Are you asking to get to know me? You only have to ask.”

“Don’t do that again,” she warned. “You just cause problems.”

Azriel’s easy going smile slid off his face. “Fuck—I’m sorry.”

Gwyn stood there, blinded by the early morning sun, staring up at him. She was waiting for him to qualify that apology, to offer some excuse. Instead, Azriel waited to see if she’d forgive him. 

Gwyn blinked. “It’s fine. You were trying to help.”

“Don’t be so easy on me,” he murmured, his eyes so uncomfortably soft. Like he liked her. Gwyn was projecting and she knew it would only get hurt if she couldn’t find something wrong with him. 

“You want to help? Nesta has a list of things she needs done. You could help me with that.”

Azriel grinned.

“Hand it over.”

AZRIEL:

Azriel had told Gwyn to meet him in front of the resort but he hadn’t told her why. She found out that evening, stepping out of the sliding glass doors with wide, teal eyes. She was so fucking pretty it made his chest ache. It had been a day running around and checking on their venue, harassing Eris Vanserra while he tried to feel up his wife, and a bunch of other little tasks he didn’t care about.

What he cared about was the red haired woman doing it with him. Gwyn was filled with information about Nesta—and occasionally Cassian—and if he was careful, would tell him about her, too. Nothing deep—she taught history at Velaris University, which Azriel had thought was a pretty nice university, though he didn’t dare ask. She’d told him about her syllabus, as if Azriel knew jack shit about antiquity.

He bet she would have told him if he’d asked, though. Gwyn was very clearly passionate about history. He liked that more than he was willing to admit. Every girl he spent significant time with wanted to talk about was her socials and what she did to maintain them. He knew Gwyn had an instagram because he’d started following her that afternoon, but it was hardly curated and he knew she wasn’t making money off it.

She halted, letting him check her out in her short shorts and her white top that revealed fair skin every time she took a breath. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, catching copper in the bright sunlight.

“What is that?” she asked. Azriel looked down at the motorcycle he’d managed to dig out, spending far too much money hoping to impress her. He couldn’t tell if it was working.

“It’s a bike,” he replied, working hard to make himself sound casual and cool when in truth he felt nervous as fuck. “You coming still?”

“On that?”

He looked back and the sleek black and red bike sitting silent just behind before offering her up a helmet. “Do you want to walk?”

“No, but…” she bit her bottom lip. “Is it safe?”

“It is if I’m driving it. I can drive anything,” he added, bragging just a little. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She hesitated, fingers twitching before she took that helmet. Azriel caught her hand.  

“Trust me,” he added softly. 

Magic words. Gwyn nodded, jamming that helmet onto her head with a smile. “If we die, I’m going to haunt you.”

“I’ll be dead, too,” he reminded her. “So we’ll just be hanging out in the after-life.”

She wrapped her arms around his torso, poking him in the side. “I’ll make you miserable for all eternity, then.”

“You could try,” he replied, revving the engine to life. It was so loud, the smoke from the back nearly choking them both and yet she was on that seat, pressed tight against him and that was all he’d wanted. An excuse to touch her without being obvious. 

They left the resort behind and Azriel showed off just a little, weaving in and out of traffic like it was nothing, if only to feel her hold him tighter. He knew he was down bad, that he needed to get himself together before he did something utterly foolish.

But fuck, when was the last time anyone had made him feel like this? Giddy and happy, like he had literal butterflies living in his gut? It was his endless problem—he always fell too hard, too fast. She was still dealing with her ex and he was trying to figure out how to convince her he was worth her time.

The island was bigger than he’d thought and built on a steep, long-dominant volcanic slope. As they rode into the dusky evening, they passed a winery Azriel very much intended to bring her back to just as soon as he had a good enough reason to do so. They passed farmers herding sheep before they were back in the main city, if it could even be called that. No time seemed to have passed, except for the people on the cobblestone streets that moved about in jeans and cotton blends. Azriel nearly crashed, craning his neck to look up at the spire tower of massive black church set in the middle of the city square, momentarily awed by the construction.

He wasn’t the only one. He could feel Gwyn twisting this way and that, looking at the terracotta houses and the vibrant awnings hanging in front of restaurants that were likely centuries old. He was pleased to have brought her, even if they were trying to use Vanserra’s money to place a very expensive order of champagne. 

He cut the engine in front of the vendor, pulling his helmet off with what he hoped was elegant grace Gwyn hopped off, too, flipping her hair out of the helmet carelessly. His cock immediately stirred to life, the image branded in his brain. Her bright, happy smile soothed that wildness and dragged him back to reality.

“That was fun,” she breathed, pressing a hand to his chest. He caught her wrist, pulling her in for a soft kiss. 

“You should see me in the states, if you liked that,” he breathed, too stupid for his own good. Gwyn didn’t flinch away, didn’t do anything but look up at him with those ocean blue eyes.

“Yeah? I think I might like that.”

He could have floated away. He kissed her again, slowly–like he had the right to. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, releasing her despite every instinct begging him not to. 

She smiled and when he put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her into the old building, Gwyn didn’t pull away. They looked like lovers, like they’d come not because their two best friends had accidentally fallen in love, but because they’d fallen in love.

He wanted that reality so badly it made his teeth ache. 

The owner spoke decent English which was lucky given neither he nor Gwyn spoke a word of Italian. Negotiations seemed to move smoother when Azriel pulled out the car Eris had given them and slid it over an mahogany counter. Gwyn had written out the number of cases of champagne Nesta wanted and google translate helped them with the rest. They’d offered up the address, but Azriel suspected he and Rhys might have to come back, maybe with the younger Vanserra, to carry cases of liquor into a rental van. 

“Want to get dinner?” he asked her impulsively when they finished, high on both his success and spending an evening in Italy with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Gwyn looked around, pointing just down the street to a patio illuminated by hanging string lights.

It was romantic as shit. That was Azriel’s real problem. He had no idea how to wine and dine a woman outside of the bedroom. His good looks did most of the work for him, maybe a shallow thing to admit given Gwyn had such an interesting personality. She’d worked for it and Az…well, he had his six pack, didn’t he? 

They settled in an outdoor patio, sitting across from one another and surveying the menu. It was helpfully in English and Italian. She ordered pasta.

Azriel ordered a pizza. He couldn’t help himself. When in Rome, right? 

“So,” Gwyn began, lips pressed to a glass of wine. “What happened after school?”

He held his own glass in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Rhys and Cassian went to college,” she began, unaware of his stomach immediately began to sink. Here it was. All the reasons he wasn’t right for her, starting with that diploma. He’d heard it all before. “And you were on the soccer team with Lucien, weren’t you?”

He scoffed. “I was good but Vanserra was…” 

He could begrudgingly admit Vanserra was great. Gwyn took a drink, waiting for him to respond. Azriel took a breath, swallowing the urge to snap at her. 

“My mom got sick,” he admitted. “And I’m good with cars. I meant to go, but after a year at the shop I figured what was the point? I was already doing what I liked and a degree wasn’t going to change that.”

“How many shops do you have?” she asked, catching him by surprise. Interest shone in those teal eyes and Azriel, so used to women trying to cajole him into feeling bad about skipping out on a mountain of debt for a business degree, didn’t respond immediately.

“Four. Five, if we keep up our metrics through the year.”

“That’s incredible,” she breathed. “You must be so proud.”

He was. Azriel nodded, certain he must look like a cartoon character with its heart beating outside its chest. Could she see it? Azriel was so fucked, saved only by a waiter dropping off their food. 

Gwyn took a bite of her food, noodles wrapped around a fork. Her eyes fluttered shut and Azriel had to cross his legs to keep his cock from stirring to life. 

“Taste good?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows breathlessly. He didn’t even realize he’d put himself in his pizza, staining the sleeve of his shirt, until her eyes snagged on the mistake.

He wasn’t embarrassed.

“How do you do that?” she asked him curiously.

“Do what?” he replied, thinking she meant his careless actions.

“Make everything so unspeakably hot?”

Oh. 

“You think my elbow in sauce is unspeakably hot?” he teased. 

“No, that was dorky as fuck. Thank you for reminding me you’re still a mere mortal. I meant the way you talk.” 

He waited expectantly for her to follow that up.

Gwyn sighed. “Taste good?” She mimicked his voice, trying to sound sultry while making him sound like a serial killer. Azriel laughed, head thrown back.

Gwyn crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s not exactly like that.”

Azriel couldn’t smother his smile as he leaned forward again, this time avoiding his food which he very much intended to eat just as soon as she stopped being so unbearably cute. 

“For the record,” he said softly, catching the way she shivered despite the warmth. “You taste incredible.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered. “We’re in public, Az.”

“Eat your dinner, Gwyn, so I can eat mine.”

She narrowed her eyes but Azriel was satisfied. He’d eat his food.

And then he’d eat her. 

Episode 4 of the first Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney was crazy!

Phoenix says that the caretaker had to be Yanni Yogi because he named his parrot Polly, which was the name of the 'amnesiac' man's dead fiancée.

Then fucking Manfred von Karma came up with one of the most absurd objections!

"My granddaughter has a dog she calls 'Phoenix'. Well, Mr. Phoenix Wright? Does this make you my granddaughter's fiancée?"

Like, dude, wtf?? Those aren't even the same comparisons.

Phoenix Wright is very much alive, and his granddaughter isn't suffering with memory problems. Also, his granddaughter has never even met Phoenix and she's probably a child. So how are those two points a proper comparison by the logic I used to deduce that the caretaker is named Yanni because he named his parrot Polly. Phoenix even sweatdrops at this objection because of how ridiculous it was.

And there's also the ridiculousness of cross-examining a parrot and a bunch of other things that happened.

I hate you so much for this but it's so gOOd

Why you gotta do me dirty like that 🥲

Tw - death, violence, battles, Bo fucking dies, grieving, based off of the battle scene in the Witcher

Across the battle field you saw him, Bokuto. This was how you had first met him. As the reigning monarch of the country you were introduced to the heads of your navy. Bokuto had been a little to eccentric for your taste. Very on the nose and inappropriate at times. Not to mention the flirting he seemed to do with everyone he got his hands on yet managed to seem so innocent in the meanwhile. His eyes were what won you over. Like molten gold he always said. That gaze and the fact you realised his supposed facade was very genuine. The grey haired man had chipped away at your walls and you found yourself falling rather quickly.

Which is what led you here. The man you loved, your husband as of a year ago, was staring at you across the battlefield. Fear must have been evident on your face because he ran over to cup it. Armour was cold against your dirt-clad face. His eyes were so captivating, making you feel like you were the only people on this battlefield of thousands.

“You’re stronger than this my love.” He yelled over the noises of the fighting, “we can do this. You can do this.”

You nodded, watching as he walked in the opposite direction. He turned to look at you with a smile.

The last you would see from him.

The arrow came in slow motion. You felt a deep pit form in your gut, stealing your breath as well as your remaining happiness. He didn’t look away from you while it came towards him. Maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he did and wanted you to be the last thing he saw. A slate grey point embedded itself in his eye. Piercing through the sight that had once brought you joy. As his body hit the ground, as did you.

The hollowness of your stomach bubbled up with despair, raw and heartbroken despair. The man you loved hit the ground in a slump. The body so full of life now lay in a heap in front of you. A scream thundered down your throat, echoing over the sounds of clashing swords and war cries. The sound of anguish was more powerful than the sound of war. So often is it that the sound of pain overcame the sound of the cause. Anguish and pure pain streamed out of your mouth, overflowing from you and cascading down the backs of the men around you. Little care came from you though, your eyes still fixated on clouded gold.

You knew he wanted to die a heroic death. It’s what he deserved after all, being the man he was.

But not like this, never like this.

THIS I LOVE AND HATE AT THE SAME TIME

something about angst with cheol

— find you again, choi seungcheol.

warmup dimitri…i like drawing his mug what can i say

THEYRE HERE THEYRE HERE THEYRE HERE THEYRE HERE GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUEYS GUYS GUYS GUYS LOOK NYEOW!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HOYNGGODBS

THEYRE SO STUPID IM CRYING THEYRE SO CUTE THEYRE SO OOOOO CUTE FUCKK❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭IM SCREAMING IM SCRWMAING IM SCEWMA

🌈💖✨Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or seem to have a good heart and if you get one back you must be pretty awesome 😎💜💚💙🩷

awww thank you so much!!!!

🌈💖✨Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or seem to have a good heart and if you get one back you must be pretty awesome 😎💜💚💙🩷

THIS IS THE SECOND ONE AHH I LOVE YOU!!!

@elwin-at-your-service @therealsophieelizabethfoster

Sophie: I have a plan

Elwin: Hearing those words from you literally trigger my fight or flight response but go on

<3

EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF MEEEEEE?!?! MUTUALSSSSS!!! OMFG-

there’s more information from Ranboo’s stream YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT ISSSS

!!!GENLOSS SPOILER WARNING!!!

Showfall media is SINISTER and the more information we get the more we see how horrific it truly is. Showfall killed Niki first because WE CHOSE TO SAVE HER. The order of the deaths of our beloved characters were determined by how loved they were, their lives being shaved down to purely shock factor to keep us locked in. To keep us watching.

This feeds into the parallel we’ve seen drawn throughout the entire show between us as the audience and Ranboo, our tragic hero. His hand was unknowingly forced, making him cause the death of everyone around him and he took the punishment for it in the end.

Sound familiar?

We told Showfall all about our love for these characters through the vote, begging in the chat for one or the other to be the one to make it. Just for them to take them out one by one and then place the blame in our hands.

I can almost hear Showfall murmuring like a devil on our shoulder “you chose them. how could you possibly not know you were causing their downfall? the blame falls solely on you”