Devon

I know I seem cute and innocent

[pantomatique]

so couqette

[pantomatique]

His Return

The small cottage came into view. Azriel slowed down, his feet touching the cobblestone path without a sound. The balmy summer air was a welcome compared to the near-constant freeze of the Winter Court, even if it made him soak his leathers through with sweat. He had built the cottage for Elain as a gift when they got married; built it in a field of wildflowers outside of Velaris. He remembered her smile as he flew her there and surprised her with it.

It has been three weeks since he stepped into his own house, the smell of peonies and sunshine wafted around him- his wife’s scent. Three weeks without his wife. He was sorely tempted to wake her up and makeup for all of that lost time. He let her sleep, she needed it and he needed to hone the whirl-wind of thoughts flying through him.

The last three weeks were spent interrogating spies caught trying to cross the border between the Night and Winter Courts. Spies from the Continent. They were apprehended in Winter, but Kallias allowed Rhys the courtesy of his own interrogation… as long as it was in Winter. Rhys stayed a week, using his daemati gifts to quicken the process. After the week, Rhys left him with Lucien to try to open up the last two spies who had been shields. Fae gifted with protection against daemati.

Walking to the dining room, he noticed a light yellow rug with a floral print. Bright and cheery against the dark wood floors. How very Elain, he thought. In fact, he started noticing all of the details added since he left. The wedding portrait that Feyre had painted of them, rested on the mantle. Vases of flowers and other feminime touches graced the house. It was perfect. It reminded him of Elain, who made anywhere she was- home to him. 

They've only been in the cottage for six weeks- married that long too. He hated himself for being gone for half of their marriage, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to keep her safe.

Azriel poured himself a drink at the small copper bar cart near the kitchen, using a glass - not bothering with a shot glass. Ugly. That’s what those last weeks were. As a favor to his Highlord, Azriel begrudgingly worked with Lucien. When Elain had chosen the shadowsinger over her mate, the townhouse nearly collapsed due to the fight that took place. Lucien was still silently seething over the matter while they worked. Azriel’s shadows picking up the wrath thumping underneath the fox’s golden skin. 

As much as Azriel hated to admit it, he was angry too. Angry at Vanserra. Angry at whatever force decided to tie Elain and Lucien’s souls together for eternity.

 Pulling out a chair to face the three paned window, he took a seat at the end of the mahogany dining table. A gift from Cas, his reasoning being that the happy couple needed a big enough for both their families. Family. That’s what he and Elain wove themselves together to become.

Staring at the starry night sky, whiskey burned down his throat as he his mind circled back to that comment Lucien made to him when he found out Elain wouldn’t be accompanying them to Winter. Accused him of cloistering Elain, saying that the cottage Azriel had built her was nothing more than a gilded cage meant to keep her bound to him. 

He wanted to bring Elain with him. Wanted to take her gliding over the iced over ponds hidden in the Winter Court’s forests, to show her the snow-blooming flowers that flourished in the cold… He would take her one day. Where he could give her all of his attention, she deserved it.

In truth, Azriel didn’t want Elain to see this part of him. He couldn't fathom sharing a bed with her mere hours after he tortured fae barely out of boyhood. Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his face in his hands, the scars and calluses scraping against the light stubble that began to form on his jaw. He thought about gentle Elain watching her husband break trained warriors apart, watching someone usually so caring and loving to her- turn to violence and bloodshed. She knew what he did, what was required of him to keep the Night Court safe. He would not allow her to see that part of him. Not anytime soon.

“Az, is that you?” a gentle voice behind him flowed like water. He turned around to see Elain standing at the stop of the staircase. A cream shaw was wrapped around her shoulders, over the pale pink nightgown edged with cream lace - another wedding present from Feyre. He had blushed when Elain opened up the trunk full of scraps of lace and satin and then rolled his eyes at the note that Feyre had left him:

 “A gift for the groom. - your sister in-law”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Didn’t mean to, but he was elated to see her. Graceful as a doe, she glided down the stairs- towards him.

“It’s okay. I have trouble sleeping without you anyways.” A smile touched her lips as she talked. His heart ached at the thought that she had problems sleeping. The first night they shared a bed, she had told him that it was the first time she slept without nightmares. Did she not feel safe without him here? He had placed wards around the house before he left and even told her to sleepover at Rhy and Feyre’s if she was scared. Azriel would ask her about it tomorrow. 

 Placing his hands on her hips. He pulled her towards him, so that she was standing in between his legs. Resting his head between her breasts and wrapping his arms around her slim waist, he breathed her in.

“I missed you.” He whispered to her.  So very, very much, he thought. Elain threaded her fingers in his midnight hair and began playing with it. Twirling his locks around her thin, small fingers.

“I’m so glad you're safe.” she said. “That is quite a nightcap you’ve made yourself.” She let out a chuckle at the large glass of whiskey sitting on the table. “I’ll make you some tea to wash it down.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” he responded, but she already untangled herself from him and was walking towards the kitchen. Azriel was content to just watch her. Placing the copper kettle on the stove, she turned and gave him the sweetest smile as she pulled out two mint mugs from the cabinet. She stirred extra honey into his tea, making a remark about how she heard it helps prevent hangovers.

She placed both mugs on the table and was about to sit down, until he pulled her onto his lap- so that she was straddling him. Elain let out a giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” he whispered into ear, pressing a kiss right below it, as he eyed the velvet blue curtains enclosing the window.

“Cassian helped me hang them up. He said the blue would go with your siphons.”  She ran her fingers over the one in the center of his chest, before picking up his mug of tea and bringing it to his lips. “Drink.” He did what she said.

“Delicious, from your garden?” he inquired as he took the mug from her small hands and held it to her lips. He tilted it up as she took a sip.

“Yes, I starting growing herbs that help with sore muscles and fatigue… for you.” she said shyly, looking down. Azriel put the mug back on the table and then tilted Elain’s chin up with his hand. 

“Thank you.” he said as he stared into her chocolate eyes. Thank you for everything, for taking care of me, for loving me, he thought, hoping that his eyes conveyed what he felt.

‘She is thinking you’re welcome.’ a wisp of a shadow whispered in his ear. One of the reasons he loved Elain was that she didn’t push him to talk. The two of them seemed to exude their thoughts and feelings to each other without words.

Azriel released her chin, running his hands over the silky material of the nightgown, he pulled her flush to his chest- into a passionate kiss. The shaw around her shoulders, fell to the floor forgotten. Her soft, doll lips parted allowing their tongues to intertwine along with their souls. Her hands stroking his chest, his shoulders, his wings. Desire flooded his loins.

He moved his hands over the curve of her hips, down to her knees. Then he moved them back up over her creamy thighs, up to the hem of her nightgown which was pushed up from straddling his lap. Lips parting, she began to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck.

“Arms up.” 

Elain obeyed. Lifting her arms up, as he pulled the nightgown over her head and let it drop to the floor. Unconcerned of where it landed. She wouldn't be needing it for the rest of the night. 

The primal, fae part of him hummed with pleasure at the bare skin before him. The moon beams streaking through the glass windows behind her, making her pale skin glow like back-lit alabaster. Clad only in a pair of pink lace panties, she whispered his name. Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful, the word echoed in his head as his eyes roamed over his wife’s body- exposed only for him.

Lips meeting once again, Azriel cupped her breasts, his thumbs moving in circles over her nipples- peaking them. She moaned into his mouth as her hips began to move in a soft rhythm against his own. Reminding his body that they spent three weeks without touching each other. Those days apart had left him ravenous.

He trailed one finger down the valley of her breasts, the center of her naval- until he got to the waistband of that scrap of lace she wore. Perhaps she expected his return tonight with those seer powers of hers, he thought, that would explain the… ensemble. 

A purely male smirk appeared on his face, as he realized that she was soaked through.  Before he could insert a finger into that wet heat of hers, she crawled off his lap to pull off her underwear. The shadowsinger sat back and enjoyed the sight. Stepping out of them, she kneeled before him. Kneeled before death incarnate.

Her nimble fingers began pulling at the laces of his leather pants. A groan escaped his lips, as his aching length sprang into her awaiting hand. He nearly lost his mind when she kissed the tip. Unable to wait any longer, Azriel hauled her up onto his lap and buried himself deep inside her in one smooth stroke.

All five hundred of those years he had spent in heartbreak and trapped in lust, had been worth it. He would have waited an eternity to wait for her. His one true love.

Azriel thrust up into her, still clad in his fighting leathers, while she writhed atop him naked. Her head dropped to the nook of his shoulder, her sweet little moans and gasps echoing in his ear.

Inside her, he forgot his sins. Forget the dark shadows of his past that leeched on his very existence- she burned them away. Outshining every star in the sky.

Azriel would give her everything.

Bringing his hand to that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, she fell off that shimmering edge into a pool of starlight. And as she gasped his name as she found her release, he stood up- wrapping her thin legs around his waist.

When the tremor in her stilled, he pulled himself out of her and sat her at the edge of that giant table. Pushing her shoulders so that she laid flat on her back, knees bent, legs spread and feet perched at the end of the table. Exactly where he wanted her.

       “Az?”

“Soon, love.” pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth to quiet her.

Before he could take what he needed, he began unstrapping the armor from his shoulders and forearms and unbuckled the leather tunic. And as he threw the tunic to the ground, he leaned over her, guiding himself into her. His pants slung low over his chiseled hips.

Enjoying the feeling of her small bare breasts crushed against his chest, he set a punishing pace that would take them both over the edge. Elain’s small hands traced over his back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he thrust into her. Azriel grabbed her wrists, twinning their fingers together as he pinned her hands by her head.

No language could describe how good it felt to share this intimacy with her. But gods, he tried. Whispering in her ear about how much she pleased him, how amazing she felt wrapped around him. A blush spread from her dimpled cheeks to those perfect tits of hers.

And as her fingers tightened around his own, release found her again that night. At the sight of his wife moaning his name below him, he found his. His siphons flaring as he spilled himself into her.

Elain wrapped her legs around him, holding him close as pleasure shot up his spine. Foreheads pressed together, noses touching, he pressed an open mouth kiss to her swollen lips. 

“I love you.” she said. “So very much.”

Azriel hoped that he was enough to keep her safe, strong enough to make sure they had nights like this again and again.

[pantomatique]

His Return

The small cottage came into view. Azriel slowed down, his feet touching the cobblestone path without a sound. The balmy summer air was a welcome compared to the near-constant freeze of the Winter Court, even if it made him soak his leathers through with sweat. He had built the cottage for Elain as a gift when they got married; built it in a field of wildflowers outside of Velaris. He remembered her smile as he flew her there and surprised her with it.

It has been three weeks since he stepped into his own house, the smell of peonies and sunshine wafted around him- his wife’s scent. Three weeks without his wife. He was sorely tempted to wake her up and makeup for all of that lost time. He let her sleep, she needed it and he needed to hone the whirl-wind of thoughts flying through him.

The last three weeks were spent interrogating spies caught trying to cross the border between the Night and Winter Courts. Spies from the Continent. They were apprehended in Winter, but Kallias allowed Rhys the courtesy of his own interrogation… as long as it was in Winter. Rhys stayed a week, using his daemati gifts to quicken the process. After the week, Rhys left him with Lucien to try to open up the last two spies who had been shields. Fae gifted with protection against daemati.

Walking to the dining room, he noticed a light yellow rug with a floral print. Bright and cheery against the dark wood floors. How very Elain, he thought. In fact, he started noticing all of the details added since he left. The wedding portrait that Feyre had painted of them, rested on the mantle. Vases of flowers and other feminime touches graced the house. It was perfect. It reminded him of Elain, who made anywhere she was- home to him. 

They've only been in the cottage for six weeks- married that long too. He hated himself for being gone for half of their marriage, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to keep her safe.

Azriel poured himself a drink at the small copper bar cart near the kitchen, using a glass - not bothering with a shot glass. Ugly. That’s what those last weeks were. As a favor to his Highlord, Azriel begrudgingly worked with Lucien. When Elain had chosen the shadowsinger over her mate, the townhouse nearly collapsed due to the fight that took place. Lucien was still silently seething over the matter while they worked. Azriel’s shadows picking up the wrath thumping underneath the fox’s golden skin. 

As much as Azriel hated to admit it, he was angry too. Angry at Vanserra. Angry at whatever force decided to tie Elain and Lucien’s souls together for eternity.

 Pulling out a chair to face the three paned window, he took a seat at the end of the mahogany dining table. A gift from Cas, his reasoning being that the happy couple needed a big enough for both their families. Family. That’s what he and Elain wove themselves together to become.

Staring at the starry night sky, whiskey burned down his throat as he his mind circled back to that comment Lucien made to him when he found out Elain wouldn’t be accompanying them to Winter. Accused him of cloistering Elain, saying that the cottage Azriel had built her was nothing more than a gilded cage meant to keep her bound to him. 

He wanted to bring Elain with him. Wanted to take her gliding over the iced over ponds hidden in the Winter Court’s forests, to show her the snow-blooming flowers that flourished in the cold… He would take her one day. Where he could give her all of his attention, she deserved it.

In truth, Azriel didn’t want Elain to see this part of him. He couldn't fathom sharing a bed with her mere hours after he tortured fae barely out of boyhood. Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his face in his hands, the scars and calluses scraping against the light stubble that began to form on his jaw. He thought about gentle Elain watching her husband break trained warriors apart, watching someone usually so caring and loving to her- turn to violence and bloodshed. She knew what he did, what was required of him to keep the Night Court safe. He would not allow her to see that part of him. Not anytime soon.

“Az, is that you?” a gentle voice behind him flowed like water. He turned around to see Elain standing at the stop of the staircase. A cream shaw was wrapped around her shoulders, over the pale pink nightgown edged with cream lace - another wedding present from Feyre. He had blushed when Elain opened up the trunk full of scraps of lace and satin and then rolled his eyes at the note that Feyre had left him:

 “A gift for the groom. - your sister in-law”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Didn’t mean to, but he was elated to see her. Graceful as a doe, she glided down the stairs- towards him.

“It’s okay. I have trouble sleeping without you anyways.” A smile touched her lips as she talked. His heart ached at the thought that she had problems sleeping. The first night they shared a bed, she had told him that it was the first time she slept without nightmares. Did she not feel safe without him here? He had placed wards around the house before he left and even told her to sleepover at Rhy and Feyre’s if she was scared. Azriel would ask her about it tomorrow. 

 Placing his hands on her hips. He pulled her towards him, so that she was standing in between his legs. Resting his head between her breasts and wrapping his arms around her slim waist, he breathed her in.

“I missed you.” He whispered to her.  So very, very much, he thought. Elain threaded her fingers in his midnight hair and began playing with it. Twirling his locks around her thin, small fingers.

“I’m so glad you're safe.” she said. “That is quite a nightcap you’ve made yourself.” She let out a chuckle at the large glass of whiskey sitting on the table. “I’ll make you some tea to wash it down.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” he responded, but she already untangled herself from him and was walking towards the kitchen. Azriel was content to just watch her. Placing the copper kettle on the stove, she turned and gave him the sweetest smile as she pulled out two mint mugs from the cabinet. She stirred extra honey into his tea, making a remark about how she heard it helps prevent hangovers.

She placed both mugs on the table and was about to sit down, until he pulled her onto his lap- so that she was straddling him. Elain let out a giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” he whispered into ear, pressing a kiss right below it, as he eyed the velvet blue curtains enclosing the window.

“Cassian helped me hang them up. He said the blue would go with your siphons.”  She ran her fingers over the one in the center of his chest, before picking up his mug of tea and bringing it to his lips. “Drink.” He did what she said.

“Delicious, from your garden?” he inquired as he took the mug from her small hands and held it to her lips. He tilted it up as she took a sip.

“Yes, I starting growing herbs that help with sore muscles and fatigue… for you.” she said shyly, looking down. Azriel put the mug back on the table and then tilted Elain’s chin up with his hand. 

“Thank you.” he said as he stared into her chocolate eyes. Thank you for everything, for taking care of me, for loving me, he thought, hoping that his eyes conveyed what he felt.

‘She is thinking you’re welcome.’ a wisp of a shadow whispered in his ear. One of the reasons he loved Elain was that she didn’t push him to talk. The two of them seemed to exude their thoughts and feelings to each other without words.

Azriel released her chin, running his hands over the silky material of the nightgown, he pulled her flush to his chest- into a passionate kiss. The shaw around her shoulders, fell to the floor forgotten. Her soft, doll lips parted allowing their tongues to intertwine along with their souls. Her hands stroking his chest, his shoulders, his wings. Desire flooded his loins.

He moved his hands over the curve of her hips, down to her knees. Then he moved them back up over her creamy thighs, up to the hem of her nightgown which was pushed up from straddling his lap. Lips parting, she began to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck.

“Arms up.” 

Elain obeyed. Lifting her arms up, as he pulled the nightgown over her head and let it drop to the floor. Unconcerned of where it landed. She wouldn't be needing it for the rest of the night. 

The primal, fae part of him hummed with pleasure at the bare skin before him. The moon beams streaking through the glass windows behind her, making her pale skin glow like back-lit alabaster. Clad only in a pair of pink lace panties, she whispered his name. Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful, the word echoed in his head as his eyes roamed over his wife’s body- exposed only for him.

Lips meeting once again, Azriel cupped her breasts, his thumbs moving in circles over her nipples- peaking them. She moaned into his mouth as her hips began to move in a soft rhythm against his own. Reminding his body that they spent three weeks without touching each other. Those days apart had left him ravenous.

He trailed one finger down the valley of her breasts, the center of her naval- until he got to the waistband of that scrap of lace she wore. Perhaps she expected his return tonight with those seer powers of hers, he thought, that would explain the… ensemble. 

A purely male smirk appeared on his face, as he realized that she was soaked through.  Before he could insert a finger into that wet heat of hers, she crawled off his lap to pull off her underwear. The shadowsinger sat back and enjoyed the sight. Stepping out of them, she kneeled before him. Kneeled before death incarnate.

Her nimble fingers began pulling at the laces of his leather pants. A groan escaped his lips, as his aching length sprang into her awaiting hand. He nearly lost his mind when she kissed the tip. Unable to wait any longer, Azriel hauled her up onto his lap and buried himself deep inside her in one smooth stroke.

All five hundred of those years he had spent in heartbreak and trapped in lust, had been worth it. He would have waited an eternity to wait for her. His one true love.

Azriel thrust up into her, still clad in his fighting leathers, while she writhed atop him naked. Her head dropped to the nook of his shoulder, her sweet little moans and gasps echoing in his ear.

Inside her, he forgot his sins. Forget the dark shadows of his past that leeched on his very existence- she burned them away. Outshining every star in the sky.

Azriel would give her everything.

Bringing his hand to that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, she fell off that shimmering edge into a pool of starlight. And as she gasped his name as she found her release, he stood up- wrapping her thin legs around his waist.

When the tremor in her stilled, he pulled himself out of her and sat her at the edge of that giant table. Pushing her shoulders so that she laid flat on her back, knees bent, legs spread and feet perched at the end of the table. Exactly where he wanted her.

       “Az?”

“Soon, love.” pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth to quiet her.

Before he could take what he needed, he began unstrapping the armor from his shoulders and forearms and unbuckled the leather tunic. And as he threw the tunic to the ground, he leaned over her, guiding himself into her. His pants slung low over his chiseled hips.

Enjoying the feeling of her small bare breasts crushed against his chestt, he set a punishing pace that would take them both over the edge. Elain’s small hands traced over his back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he thrust into her. Azriel grabbed her wrists, twinning their fingers together as he pinned her hands by her head.

No language could describe how good it felt to share this intimacy with her. But gods, he tried. Whispering in her ear about how much she pleased him, how amazing she felt wrapped around him. A blush spread from her dimpled cheeks to those perfect tits of hers.

And as her fingers tightened around his own, release found her again that night. At the sight of his wife moaning his name below him, he found his. His siphons flaring as he spilled himself into her.

Elain wrapped her legs around him, holding him close as pleasure shot up his spine. Foreheads pressed together, noses touching, he pressed an open mouth kiss to her swollen lips. 

“I love you.” she said. “So very much.”

Azriel hoped that he was enough to keep her safe, strong enough to make sure they had nights like this again and again.

[sailor-moon-rei]

by ゆづき プロフ更新

[sailor-moon-rei]

by  木野花（ひらんこ）

[the-curious-alice]

A little Azriel and Elaine from @rhysanoodle fanfic, Into The Light 😍💕

[aelin-and-feyre]

When We’re Married Masterlist

Rowaelin Arranged Marriage AU

Synopsis

Moodboard

Chapter 1

“‘They’ve arranged your marriage,’ the Lady of Caraverre repeats quietly after a few tense moments. ‘He’ll be here tomorrow.’”

Chapter 2

“’Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, but I will also answer to Darling, Mistress of Fire and Heat, and—when in the throes of passion—Hot Stuff.’” 

Chapter 3 

“But they’ve made a bridge. It’s small and rickety and could probably fall apart at any moment, but it’s there, a small footpath bridge made of twigs that is teetering between them. Rowan just has to find a way to strengthen it.”

Chapter 4

“She opens her mouth to say something, perhaps a word of luck or another verbal intimidation. Instead, she blurts, ‘We have a long life ahead of us. Don’t kill me.’“

Chapter 5

“‘Are you proposing that we should be in love?’ Rowan asks, a muscle in his jaw flickering. But there is no judgment in his voice, no disgust or apprehension or doubt.”

Chapter 6 

“’You’re going to be my wife in ten days,’ his thumb grazes over her knuckles, ‘I might as well try to be the prince of your dreams.’“

Chapter 7 

“‘You think we might be carranam.’ It’s not a question but Rowan nods anyway.”

Chapter 8 

“Care for a wager, Buzzard? Rowan almost laughs out loud. Of course, she would want to turn their plan into a competition. Shall we see who can be more in love?”

Chapter 9 

“Sam died the day before help finally arrived.” 

Chapter 10

“Aelin. His someone. His fiancée. His fireheart.”

Chapter 11

“Mate. Rowan is her mate.“

Chapter 12 

“Rowan knows for a fact that no first kiss has ever or will ever be this… magical.“

Chapter 13

“I pick you.”

Chapter 14 coming soon!

[acotarfanfic-blog]

I love this AHHH THIS IS WHAT I NEED BEFORE KOA

[elentiya-img]

I saw this and thought of Elide and Lorcan???

[shinageha]

Sasuke and abs~ I’m too sick to coloring this now.

[mydarlingl0ve]

BRUH 😂

[sasuke-sensei]

[efaya]

I Don’t Want to Forget

Rating: M (Hard M)

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary: They knew they would have to forget everything that happened. The past could never know the future, but if that was the case, then what did they have to lose?

A/N: AHHHHH Okay needed to get that out. It’s been such a long time guys!! Life has spiraled and I finally found time to write something. I looked over it twice, by myself, but there’s probably some errors I can touch up on later. After asking you guys what to write, the answer from everyone who replied was pretty much a time travel AU. WHICH, I have been writing a longer piece for, but this is the smutty chapter that I have taken out from what I have. I hope you guys enjoy it :) I guess there’s a touch of sad to it, but you know. It is what it is.

They ended up in a situation that was impossible. No one should know the future, and they had stumbled directly into it, head first and at full speed. At this point, there really wasn’t anything that was going to inhibit their actions. After a terrifying fall through the sky, they found themselves in a time not of their own. The future. It was a difficult concept that could be described in little words. Out of all the missions they had done as genin, and the many challenges they had faced growing up as young shinobi, this seemed even more improbable… even more so than that time they punched a god. But here they were. In a guest bedroom of the very home that their future selves own, entangled in one another – drowning in their own emotions. They were incredibly lucky to be alive after their fall from the heavens, and the adrenaline did nothing to alleviate their sexual tension that had been building up over months.

Keep reading

[fortitude-sakura]

Undone

Rating: M (NSFW)

Prompt: Raw, hard, and rough. AU

She coaxes low growls and grunts out of lips that are habitually sealed as she licks the underside of his cock. He likes to run his fingers through her silky hair as she has him in her mouth. That pretty mouth.

It’s when she gives him a particularly hard suck that his fingers tighten in her hair and his hips start to jerk forward. He feels the back of her throat and he can’t help himself. He hears how sloppy her mouth is getting as he thrusts into her. He hears a small whimper from her and he looks down. She makes eye contact with him, eyes slightly wet with the threat of tears. But he knows that she can still take it. She doesn’t use their safe word and she doesn’t tap out. 

It’s so good. The sight of her, almost choking on him on the verge of tears spurs him on. He realises that what he really wants to do is to make her cry. Fuck her so she comes so hard that she cries. Every part of her belongs to him. Her sweet smiles, her love, her tears. They’re all for him.

Her tongue twists around the head of his cock and he almost comes. 

“Fuck!” he growls as he pulls her away by her hair, panting. Rather annoyed as he was so close but he also wants to make her come first.

He pulls her up into a hard kiss, his fingers find her buttocks and he gives them  a rough squeeze as he pulls her hips toward him. He grinds himself into her front, and whispers in a lustful haze, “You’ve done this to me.” 

She places her hands on his biceps and giggles. The sweet laughter of hers bruises his domineering ego and it won’t allow for that. It needs to be punished.

With a low growl he pins her to the nearest wall. His hand strokes the back of her thigh as he lifts her leg up so he can reach her core better. His other hand reach for her folds and delights in finding that she’s dripping wet for him. He strokes the outside softly, his fingers bathing in her arousal before he shoves two fingers into her unannounced. It earns him an abrupt cry from her. This will teach her to laugh at him.

He is unrelenting in his assault and she responds in kind with her moans. He watches her face, twisted and flushed from how good she must be feeling. Her mouth open as his name spills out in waves. Her voice is thick with desperation to come. He knows she’s close as she pulls him in closer and he feels her thigh twitch. He adds another finger without missing a beat and presses into that spot inside her he knows she loves so very much. 

“Ah! Sa-sasuke-kun! I-I’m.. I’m coming!” she moans into his ear. Her fingers dig into his arm. He feels her insides tighten and quiver violently around his fingers and the evidence of her orgasm drips down his hand and down her thighs. It’s not enough. He wants to see it again. 

She’s panting and he knows she’s anticipating a short reprieve so she can recover but he doesn’t give her that. His fingers still inside, he continues to press at her sweet spot. 

“N-no! It’s too much! I can’t!” she pleads, but she still doesn’t use their safe words. He doesn’t relent and it isn’t long before she’s sobbing, unable to comprehend what’s happening to her. 

“Wait! I… ah!” she all but screams as she comes again, a tear rolling down her cheek and her legs almost give out. Sasuke swiftly catches her before she can fall and and scoops up her up into his arms. As he moves her to the bed, he licks the trail the tear left on her cheek but is not yet satisfied. He wants more. 

He lays her down gently onto the bed before grunting, “From behind. Face the mirror.”

She knows he particularly enjoys her in this position, so she bends over compliantly, presenting herself to him. He even had the mirror set up so he could watch her face as he fucks her. 

His hand strokes her backside while admiring the view before him. Sakura’s body really was a work of art. Her slender waist flares out into full hips and into a perfectly round backside for him to enjoy. He gives her bottom a hard smack, hears the gasp out of her and watches as the pale skin turns red. 

He lines himself up against her slick entrance and teases her, rubbing the tip back and forth. What is a moan turns turns into a whine as he teases her a second too long. 

“Fuck me, Sasuke-kun!”

His cock twitches at the plea and he can’t help himself. He pulls her hips into him as he thrusts forward. In the mirror, he sees her surprised face as she doesn’t expect the movement. He repeats the motion, over and over, relishing just how tight she is for him. She’s warm and wet and just fucking perfect.  

“Harder! Please!” he hears her beg. 

You want harder?

His hand finds her hair and as soon as he starts to pull he feels her clamp down on him and he earns a gasp from her as he continues to thrust. 

“Oh! Oh! I’m going to come, keep going! Don’t fucking stop!”

He watches her in the mirror, her mouth open and she snakes her hand in between her legs to rub that little nub. The image of his sweet flower, moaning all sort of dirty, downright filthy things lights a fire in his stomach and every fibre of his being is telling him to fuck her until she goes insane from the pleasure.

“Please! Sasuke-kun! C-come i-inside! I want it inside!” she all but screams, “Oh! Oh!” 

He doesn’t care if the whole world hears. Let them hear that she belongs to him. That he’s the one who is making her scream, making her beg, making her cry because he makes her feel so fucking good. 

He unloads inside her with a roar of profanity, blind with the intense pleasure, his ears filled with his lover’s pleasured moans as she also reaches her climax. She milks his cock for everything he has as he spurts himself dry. When he finally catches his breath, he pulls out and palms her ass cheeks and feels a sense of satisfaction as he watches the come drip from her pussy and onto her thigh, the evidence of their love, his mark upon her. 

“You’re mine.” he says, as he collapse next to her. He pulls her in, feeling her flushed body against his and plants a soft kiss on her tear stained cheek. She doesn’t say anything but lets out a content sigh and hums happily. Pride swells in his chest knowing that she’s happy. And he’s the source of it.

[pantomatique]

I’m so sorry for reposting this

[pantomatique]

Team 7: *pulls some stupid stunt*

Kakashi: Jesus Christ we need an adult

Kakashi: ... wait

Kakashi: oh. Oh my g- IM the adult

[warning--known--fangirl]

someone: are you ok?

me: yeah im fine

*internally* naruto sadness and sorrow soundtrack playing

[sariasprincy]

The Choices We Make - Part Three

The Choices We Make MadaSaku

Part one Part Two

Part three

A deep ache throbbed in the pit of Sakura’s stomach, causing her grip on the edge of the sink to tighten and her knuckles to bleed white. She slipped her eyes closed against the pain and focused solely on inhaling and exhaling until it slowly dwindled and dulled into a more manageable pang. It wasn’t the first time she had experienced light cramping since she had discovered her pregnancy and just like before, she pressed a chakra-laced hand to her abdomen to ease the muscle pain until she was left with just her usual, hindering morning sickness.

Days like these made Sakura take a second look at her life and question just what the hell she had been thinking when she slipped into bed - or rather onto the counter - with Madara. However, she didn’t allow herself to dwell on the matter this time. She had agreed to meet him this morning for tea before she headed to the hospital for her shift, and she needed to leave shortly to make it on time.

Swallowing back the bile rising in her throat, Sakura raised a hand from where they had been braced against the counter to turn the faucet on. She splashed some cool water on her overheated skin and took a moment to collect herself before she exited the tiny bathroom connected to her bedroom to gathered her paperwork for the hospital. Once she was certain she had everything she needed for the day, she swiped her keys from the counter and headed out into the awakening village.

With the early hour, there were few venders and even fewer citizens out and about, leaving a hushed sense of tranquility over the village. A cool, dawn breeze was blowing through the streets and stirring the dust upon the sun-dried road. It powdered the toes of her boots and swirled around her ankles, but Sakura didn’t pay it any mind as she read through the patient file in her hand, her gaze only drawing up to smile in greeting at the occasional shinobi as they passed.

Her journey to the teahouse was otherwise uninterrupted. Sakura had frequented it with the Uchiha Head on a number of previous occasions and her feet followed the familiar path without her having to stop and recall the way.

Sakura was less than a block away when nausea threatened to overcome her again and she paused under the shade of a shop’s awning to press a hand to her mouth as she tucked the chart safely under her other arm. The bile was thick and hot in her throat but she pursed her lips together, refusing to give into her body’s demands.

‘Mind over body, mind over body,’ she repeated mentally. The last thing she wanted was for Madara to learn of her pregnancy by puking all over him. 'Although it would be fitting,’ she realized with a soft snort.

Her sudden amusement chased the worst of her sickness away and she swallowed thickly as she distracted herself by entertaining the comical image. It would certainly be a story worth-telling, that much was certain.

Sakura was still smiling softly when she finally arrived at the small teahouse. The doors were wide open in hospitality and she stepped inside before she scanned the dining room in search of Madara. She quickly realized he wasn’t present in the empty room, and she turned expectantly when an employee approached her.

“Welcome, Haruno-san,” the young woman greeted respectfully. “Uchiha-sama has reserved the private room for you this morning.”

Sakura bit back a snort. Of course he did.

The hostess silently gestured for Sakura to follow her before she led them down a small hallway and away from the rest of the mainroom. They stopped before a traditional shoji and the young woman made their presence known before she slid the door opened and entered. “Uchiha-sama, Haruno-san has arrived,” she bowed.

Sakura followed after the other woman but paused just inside the room as her gaze finally settled upon Madara. He had dressed up for the occasion in a dark grey robe made of the richest silks with the Uchiha fan stitched into each side over his breast bone. The color matched the smokiness of his eyes and complimented his handsome face. He was kneeling before a low-sitting table with his arms folded eloquently across his chest, his normally wild mane of hair pulled back into a simple ponytail that emphasized his strong jawline and broad shoulders.

Sakura swallowed hard as her mouth went dry. Next to him, she likely resembled someone who had just crawled out of bed, and she suddenly regretted her decision not to wipe the dust from her boots before entering the establishment. It felt as if she were in the presence of royalty.

Oh yes, she decided. It would be a very bad idea for her to puke on him.

Keep reading

[missnobody731]

OH MY FRICKING GOD THIS IS ME!!!!!!