#I need more content with these two I am starving

[stressed-depressed-andobsessed]

I've cooked. Everyone can now get back in the kitchen, someone please turn that smoke alarm off, I have finished the meal. Eat up.

Happy late birthday to my 2nd favorite Owada birthday! Mondo is telling Daiya about all the cool shit him and his friends did for his birthday. 🫶🏾🎉🎂

I tried to finish this earlier, in time for his birthday, but I was busy attending a Melanie Martinez concert so my priorities were a little bit elsewhere for a while. It was beautiful by the way.

The DaiyaMondo brothers have had me by the balls for a good long while now and I can't stand it. I've scrounged for every bit of media where these 2 interact and I'm beginning to scrape the bottom of the barrel. Pretty please send me anything containing these 2, I'm getting desperate.

Down below are the shaded versions of this drawing plus an old Daiya piece I found where I drew him for the first time ever. It's a little blurry because I had to transfer it from my drive instead of taking it straight from my drawing app, but it's good if you ignore the pixels.

Now that this is done, I can start on the art and writing for the little Hamilton Musical of 78 I've been talking about.

[quibbs126]

Have you ever loved a game so much that you become instantly relaxed and uplifted just hearing the UI sound effects?

[risuola]

ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[tra1nchi]

trainy please I'm begging for subbot amab welt 🤧🤧🤧 there's no content and I am STARVING

some degradation and breeding never hurt him... maybe a biting and collar kink too 😞🙏🙏🙏

- 🕳️anon

MINORS DNI!! top male reader,, feeding the like two welt fans lol,,Degradation,,breeding,,collar,,

He looked so pretty for you like this, Welt was layed so cutely back against the bed. His eyes shy and averted away from your hungry gaze as he felt it trail all around his body, his cock unbelievably hard and leaking against his tummy.

"You..can't just stare at me like that." Welt scolds weakly, his chest heaving as you checked the tightness of his collar, his breath hitching at the feeling of it tightening so perfectly around his neck, squeezing at just the right parts.

His whines would be so sweet as you trailed up the skin of his shaky thighs, he was so embarrassed to be exposed like that infront of you! He was so vulnerable, he could feel each sweep of the cold air of the express kiss his cock, he couldn't handle how slow you were going! So without thinking he wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you flushed against him.

"Please, take me..I'll be your good little slut." He grumble out embarrassed but before he knows it, he was flipped over onto his tummy, his brown hair being gripped until his mind felt fuzzy as your cock perfectly pistoned in and out of him, he couldn't help his eyes from rolling back from how perfectly you found his prostate, like his body was meant for you, yo be fucked by you.

"Yes yes! I'm yours! Please, harder!" He knew he sounded like a whore but he didn't care, he didn't care about anything except for how you fucked him, how good it felt to have his mind completely blur just by your thrusts.

Welt needed more and more, to be filled to the brim with your cum and stuffed full of your babies, he could barely think straight but he knew how much of a good father he'd be, all he could do is pray that you'd come inside and not pull out to tease him!!

[postanagramgenerator]

for the time being this blog is dedicated to reblogging donation posts for people suffering from the ongoing genocides. if youd like an anagram, please send me (via the submission box) proof of either donation to a fundraiser of your choice, or an esim for gaza, along with the text you would like me to anagram, through dms or the submit box. any anagram requests without proof of a donation or esim purchase will be ignored.

there are a few guidelines:

no slurs or otherwise offensive content

the more you donate, the longer the text i am willing to anagram

current campaign spotlight: ibrahim, 15 years old | @ibrahim-family | post to share | verification

below is a list of more verified accounts* who have personally reached out to me:

Mahmoud Khalaf @helpkhalaffamily, @mahmoudkhalafff: PhD student living in Ireland, 8 family members stuck in Gaza. #151 on nabulsi and el-shab-hussein's vetted fundraiser list

Tamer Al-Deeb @tameraldeeb: Dentist in Gaza, 4 family members, #191 on the vetted fundraiser list

Basil Ayyad @basel-1995: verified TWICE after being accused by high-profile blogs of being a spambot. 8 family members, #214 on the vetted fundraiser list

Mahmoud Sharif @mahmoud-sharif : trying to save his wife and 3 children with a fourth on the way, has lost an eye and finger, vetted by 90-ghost

Mahmoud Balousha @tamer200333 @5735765: is working with various intermediaries to help several different family members; he's also been the target of recent harassment. see here for links and information. verified by apollos-olives.

Doaa Jad Al Haq @free-gaza: met her initial goal to raise money for a new sewing machine for her business in Egypt now that she's evacuated, and is now hoping to make enough for a workspace and more materials. check out her designs here. reblogged by 90-ghost

Nour @nor-famaily @nourfamily1989: raising money for her husband and 5 children. initially reached out to me for help setting up a gofundme, but fortunately she was able to get in touch with the Gaza Thrift Collective and they were able to set one up for her. verified by 90-ghost and killy

Mohammed Atallah @mohammed-atallah: Mohammed is only 17 years old, and needs a bone graft after being shot with an explosive bullet. this fundraiser will also benefit his parents, siblings, and baby niece and nephew.

Hazem Khalil @hazempalestine: dentistry student living in Belgium hoping to evacuate his family. vetted by Bilal Salah, who himself is #132 on the vetted fundraiser list

Mahmoud Ayyad @mahmoudayyad: raising funds for many family members and receiving VERY few donations so far. vetted by 90-ghost

Fahed Shehab @fahedshehab-new: a family of 8 hoping to evacuate; Fahed, his wife Reem, their 5 young children, and the childrens' grandmother. vetted by el-shab-hussein

Sarah Zidan @sarazidan: a mother caring for her disabled son. vetted by el-shab-hussein and co. at gaza-evacuation-funds

Mohammed Shehab @mohammedshehabneww: a family of four seeking evacuation, including 2 children. shared by sayruq and 90-ghost

Abdul Salam Al-Anqar @nader5555: a family of seven, including two teens and one baby, who is starving. abdul's father has cancer and desperately needs treatment. #4 on the spreadsheet by GazaVetters

*when i say "verified", i mean that well-established palestinian users on this site have been able to confirm their identity via private correspondence. all users i mention as having vetted fundraisers are palestinian and have been working their asses off to help people with their fundraisers for months. they deserve every bit of love and appreciation in the world and none of us should let their efforts go unrecognized.

[janitorhutcherson]

i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.

[hitomisuzuya]

Soft smut with Aventurine, I want to praise him, tell him how much I love him, and how he’s doing so well for me

I wasn’t sure if you were taking requests from Aventurine but then I saw what you just posted

If you don’t want to write this feel free to ignore!!

Anyways I love your writing so much and I’m glad you’ve picked up writing for Aven, now one of my favorite writers writes for by far my two favorite characters to read about :)

Aventurine x fem!reader. Soft smut. Cunnilingus. Praise. Pussy drunk! Aventurine. Aventurine cums from praise.

I am always taking requests for Aventurine. I want to spoil him with praise, so he cums from it. Spoiling him is the name of the game, isn't it? Thank you🥺❤️

It was Aventurine who seduced you into this position, using his silver tongue and teasing phrases that made you red faced and flustered. However, as his hand caressed your inner thigh, his eyes glinting satisfied hearing your shaky moan as he parted your folds with his tongue, you did something that softened the playful look in his eyes.

You'd reached down to stroke his hair. It was such a tender, and loving action. One that made that usual playful look melt into one of complete adoration. Adoration for you.

Aventurine sighed into your cunt, content as you ran your fingers through his hair again. A soft moan of pleasure escaped your parted lips, pleasure spiking through you as he lovingly kitten licked your clit. His eyes were trained on your every movement, ears keenly focused on your noises.

Between your thighs, he was looking up at you like you are the center of his whole world. Without you, he would have nothing left to grasp onto and cling to. It was hard for him to feel vulnerable, but you made him secure enough to show vulnerability.

And it was liberating for him.

Your back arched off the bed, your hips rolling up into his mouth as he latched his lips around your clit. The prodding and licking of his tongue sent your clit throbbing, louder noises of pleasure for Aventurine to feed off of keened from you.

"Y-You are doing so good for me," You stumbled over your words. And Aventurine loves when you do that. That told him he was really making you feel good.

He groaned into your cunt, his mouth leaving your clit. He flicked his tongue at your hole, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head feeling it clench around the tip of his tongue. He slowly lapped at your hole, moaning huskily as you pushed his face further onto your cunt.

Aventurine's fingers trembled as he held your thighs apart. Your body was starting to tremble in his hands, your legs shaking as you grinded against his mouth. "Good boy, Aventurine. Your tongue feels so good," Hearing more of your praise made his tongue feel more ravenous.

His cock pulsed hard between his legs, muffling the sweetest whimper into your cunt as he rutted into the mattress. He knew you were eager to please him too, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. He was soaking up your words of praise, lapping and sucking, starved.

"Please," Aventurine groaned, swirling his tongue around your clit as he held your cunt against his mouth, determined to soak the taste of you on his tongue. "I need to hear it," With every fiber of his being.

He couldn't even be embarrassed about already being so close to cumming just from hearing your praise. But he couldn't get enough of it. He knew it wouldn't take the much to push him over the edge.

"I-I--" Pleasure quaked so strongly through you that you stumbled over your words again. Aventurine vibrated a moan of anticipation on your clit. "I love you, Aventurine I love you so much!"

He moaned like he had just heard the one thing he'd been waiting to hear all his life.

"Good boy, good boy," Your words keened another whimper from Aventurine. "I'm so close, please don't stop!" You were writhing on the bed, your fingers urgently tugging on his soft hair.

Your pleas, utter praise, and chants of good boy finally pushed him over the edge. His body shook as cum soaked his pants. He rode out his orgasm by further tasting you. His tongue was frenzied on your clit.

He was determined to be worthy of soaking up and basking in your praise. And the way you looked at him, your body trembling in the wake of your orgasm told him that he deserves it.

[whumpcember]

Welcome back to Whumpcember!

Or if you're new, welcome!

This is the second ever Whumpcember event and I am happy to be running it again! I am so thankful for all the support for last year's Whumpcember and for everyone who filled out the prompt list form! I hope everyone has a wonderful writing Whumpcember, and now, onto the rules!

Prompts should be answered with whump as the main focus

Fanfic! Gif! Text post! Fanart! Fan video! Any piece of media that you can possibly make that has whump counts!

You can use the prompts any time! Don't feel the need to rush

Though, prompts answered during December will most likely be reblogged

Post anywhere! AO3, Wattapad, Tumblr, or even Fanfic.Net! So as long as you make a Tumblr post with a link to the answered prompt it may be reblogged.

When posting onto Tumblr you can either @ the blog or tag with #whumpcember2023 and the day's tag, such as #whumpcember2023 day1

Don't forget to add any warnings necessary, such as NSFW or sexual content

An AO3 Collection will go out on December 1 and close January 1, it's not mandatory, but if you want your works saved in a collection, make sure you get it in on time!

At the end of the month a masterpost will go out to all participants and a badge you can save stating that you are either a participant or completionist. In order to be on the masterpost though, you will have to fill out a google form at the end of month; don't worry it'll take two minutes!

If you have any more questions, send me an ask, but please read the FAQ first!

Written Prompt list below:

-Main Prompts-

Day 1: Fever

Day 2: Sickness

Day 3: Hypothermia

Day 4: Hidden Injury

Day 5: Impaled

Day 6: Nightmares

Day 7: Fainting

Day 8: Isolation

Day 9: Brainwashing

Day 10: Freezing

Day 11: Infection

Day 12: Touch Starved

Day 13: Restraints

Day 14: Cornered

Day 15: Hallucinating

Day 16: Head Injury

Day 17: Fire

Day 18: Chronic Pain

Day 19: Exhaustion

Day 20: Drugged

Day 21: Choking

Day 22: Seizures

Day 23: Nosebleed

Day 24: Bullet

Day 25: Coma

Day 26: Collapse

Day 27: Bleeding Out

Day 28: Abandoned

Day 29: Paralyzed

Day 30: Delirium

Day 31: Homeless

-Alts-

Alt 1. Stabbed

Alt 2. Forced to Watch

Alt 3. Drowning

Alt 4. Ice

Alt 5. Sacrifice

Alt 6. Concussion

Alt 7. Hunger

Alt 8. Tears

Alt 9. Begging

Alt 10. Abused

[pascaloverx]

STARVE

Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.

Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy!

preview one

TWO

Days, perhaps more, have passed. You and Hanno have been meeting in secret, seizing moments when there was no sign of General Acacius. All that you were permitted to know was that he was recovering in the company of his beloved wife, Lucilla, who made it clear she wanted no trace of your presence near her husband. The absence of Acacius weighed upon you more than you cared to admit. To be denied access to him felt akin to holding your breath for far too long. Yet, your clandestine encounters with Hanno had proven to be a welcome distraction, enough to keep your mind from lingering too deeply on what you could not change.

"Your gladiator is requesting your care, Y/N. And while we are on the subject, your encounters under the pretext of physical care will soon spark rumors," Ravi remarks as he steps into the chamber where he keeps his healing tools. "General Acacius will be the first to rage if he learns of your escapades. Should Emperors Geta and Caracalla grow suspicious, they may presume you are seeking a new lover. Not to mention the possibility of Macrinus taking offense at your growing closeness with his gladiator." You remain crouched, organizing a collection of herbs, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Hanno needs you—or rather, he has summoned you for yet another session of personal defense training.

"Ravi, believe me, I am well aware of the risks I take in daring to draw close to Hanno. Yet, I choose to take them—something no one of sound mind would do. General Acacius will not always be there to save me in the future. Lucilla has made her stance on my involvement with him abundantly clear. You do not see him here, concerned for me, do you? Precisely for that reason, I must think of the future." You speak as you search for the garment General Acacius once left at your disposal, should you ever need to fight.

"Since you are so determined to take such risks, be cautious. The guards will bring Hanno to be treated, and you will have only that time to practice—whatever it is you two practice," Ravi warns, much as he does each time you and Hanno meet, repeating the same cautions.

"I shall change my attire. If you would, dear friend, make Hanno comfortable until I return," you say, rising and moving toward the exit of the space where you and Ravi have tended to countless gladiators. "If all goes well today, I shall be one step closer to becoming more than a healer or a lover. I shall be the closest thing to a warrior I can aspire to be." Ravi nods, though a hint of worry lingers in his expression. He is the closest thing to an ally you have.

Time rushes by when one is on the brink of doing something forbidden, but you no longer concern yourself with the consequences. You are resolute to take control of your destiny, even if that control is but a sliver. Once dressed, you secure the dagger Acacius once gifted you in a hidden compartment of your attire. It is your small but vital secret, and you are steadily improving in its use.

With purpose in your stride, you make your way swiftly to where Hanno is awaiting you. When you arrive, his eyes brighten at the sight of you. "I see your delay is justified; you look prepared for battle. Let us see if you can land a blow," Hanno says, advancing toward you with a predatory gait meant to intimidate.

You meet his gaze with an unflinching smile. "Save your words for when we’re truly facing off, gladiator," you reply, following him to the familiar training grounds. It is the very arena where countless gladiators sharpen their skills, preparing for the moment they will stand before the emperors in the grand coliseum.

As soon as you step into the center of the training grounds, Hanno strikes without warning. His sword arcs toward you, narrowly missing as you instinctively step back. At the start of this combat practice, both of you wield swords, though your grasp on its use remains novice.

"Have you lost your sanity, Hanno? I wasn’t ready," you exclaim, fixing him with a glare of irritation. He advances on you again, silent and relentless, as if transformed into a stranger intent on attack. His gaze is unwavering, his resolve sharp.

"When you’re defending yourself, no one will wait for you to be ready, nor will they show you mercy. I want you to see me as you would see any foe who dares strike at you," Hanno declares, his sword slashing toward you again. You react, relying on your defensive maneuvers, retreating step by step until a strategy for counterattack begins to form in your mind.

"I’m not so sure; you seem to be enjoying this far too much," you retort, timing your movements before landing your first offensive strike. It catches him off guard, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. The gap between you narrows, charged with the thrill of the fight and something deeper, more electrifying.

"I am enjoying it just as much as you enjoy patching me up with that brute strength of yours, healer. Now, focus," Hanno says, parrying your blow with unnerving precision. It’s like a dance—each movement perfectly countering the other. You attack; he defends. He strikes; you block. The rhythm between you is almost hypnotic, an eerie harmony born of tension and skill. But then, in a risky maneuver, Hanno manages to disarm you. Your sword flies from your grasp, landing far out of reach. Now standing mere steps apart, your eyes meet, both of you breathing heavily. It feels like the end for you, so why not take a chance?

With a surge of reckless determination, you rush toward him, channeling all your strength into an attempt to topple him. In your mind, it isn’t Hanno you’re facing—it’s an enemy, someone who would do you harm. Your unexpected move catches him off guard, and he falls to the ground. By sheer luck or fate, his sword slips from his grip as well. Now, you find yourself on top of him, both of you unarmed. The air between you is charged, your breaths mingling as silence envelops the space.

"It seems I have bested the great gladiator of Macrinus," you say, pressing your body lightly against his, a triumphant smile on your lips. Hanno smirks, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he swiftly reverses your positions, pinning you beneath him with effortless strength.

"Do not be deceived, healer," he murmurs, his piercing gaze locking with yours. But you are not so easily subdued. With a practiced movement, you draw the hidden dagger from your vestments and press it against his neck, the blade gleaming in the dim light. "Your presumption is touching, gladiator," you retort, your tone both teasing and sharp.

"What will you do next, healer?" Hanno asks, his breath warm against your face. The tension between you ignites instantly, palpable and undeniable. Before you can respond, he pulls your face closer to his, his lips capturing yours with a fervent intensity, as though he means to consume you entirely. At first, you almost resist Hanno’s kiss—it feels forbidden, a boundary you should not cross. Since your husband’s passing, Acacius was the only man you had kissed. Yet, as Hanno’s tongue ventures into your mouth, you find yourself surrendering, the kiss quickly becoming mutual.

In truth, Hanno is devouring you, but you refuse to let him take the upper hand so easily. You tug at his hair with force, pulling him closer, demanding his full attention. The kiss deepens, its intensity increasing to the point of no return. You want him to feel your hunger, to know that you wish to consume him just as much. For all its forbidden allure, you crave this moment—not because of duty or obligation, but because you want it. You want to know what it feels like to kiss someone you shouldn't, to rebel against every expectation tethering you. Your husband was not forced upon you, but your marriage had been a safeguard. Becoming Acacius’ lover served a similar purpose. But with Hanno, nothing feels safe. And perhaps that is why you let this moment unfold. There is no security here, no veil of protection. If you and Hanno are caught, Acacius could kill him, both the Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla could execute you, and the repercussions would be endless. Yet, none of that matters as your lips clash with his in this reckless, intoxicating dance of defiance.

The kiss is all-consuming, so intense that, for a moment, it steals your breath. You pause, pulling away to recover the air you desperately need. Yet Hanno seems unsatisfied, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that threatens to unravel your resolve.

His hand cups your face, fingers tracing over every detail as if committing you to memory. When his thumb brushes over your lips, he murmurs softly, "Your lips remind me of hers, my beautiful Arishat." Reality strikes like a sharp blade. He is with you, yet his mind lingers on his late wife. The weight of that truth is unbearable. As he leans forward, seeking your lips once more, you push him away, creating the distance you now desperately need.

"I will not be her replacement," you think, your resolve firm. "Nor Lucilla’s substitute." Avoiding his gaze, your shame and frustration burn within you. Rising quickly, you make your way toward your quarters. You and Ravi must always be prepared to tend to the wounded, so your rooms are close to where the gladiators train and where Ravi keeps his healing tools.

"Healer," Hanno calls out behind you, his voice firm yet laced with something softer. He follows after you, refusing to let the moment end so abruptly.

"Gladiator," you say, turning to face Hanno. Your body nearly collides with his, but you take a step back, halting the chase that had ensued. "Our training is done. I think it would be wise for us to part ways now, so as not to confuse..." You pause, searching for the right word to define what you might be confusing, only for Hanno to step abruptly closer, almost closing the space entirely.

"I am not confused about anything, healer," he says, his tone firm yet sincere. "I was lost momentarily in a memory, but I assure you, I knew exactly who I was kissing." He takes another step forward, his presence overwhelming.

"The act itself is already a problem, gladiator," you reply, struggling to maintain composure under his intense gaze. "We should not have kissed." Before he can respond, both of you hear footsteps approaching. In an instant, Hanno’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you behind him as though to shield you from whatever danger may come. Ravi appears, nearly running toward you, his face etched with worry.

"General Acacius has been seen heading this way," Ravi announces, his voice hurried and panicked. "The guards are murmuring that he’s coming to see you, Y/N. I suggest we get Hanno out of here immediately, and you prepare yourself to receive him."

The mention of Acacius sends a cold dread through you. Him encountering Hanno now would spell disaster. "Tell the guards who brought Hanno to retrieve him from here," you instruct, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. "Hanno and I will change out of these combat garments, and I’ll distract Acacius while the guards take Hanno back to his cell. Ravi, I’ll need your speed."

Without hesitation, Ravi nods and rushes off to summon the guards. You, in turn, push Hanno toward a secluded area where he can change out of his training gear. "Change in there and wait for me," you instruct firmly. Noticing the swords in his hands, you swiftly take them from him despite his protests. With no time to spare, you carry the weapons back to your quarters while Hanno remains in the area where you and Ravi usually tend to injured gladiators. In the quiet urgency of your chambers, you hastily change your attire, your mind racing with the precariousness of the situation. Hanno waits silently, the gravity of the moment clear to both of you.

"Do you fear what might happen should General Acacius discover your association with the gladiator who recently sought his life?" Hanno asks as you enter the room where he waits patiently to be taken back to his cell.

"I do not fear for myself," you reply, adjusting your tunic with calm precision. "I fear that if you and he meet, there will be unnecessary bloodshed. As I’ve told you before, if you wish to kill him, do so in a duel—before the people of Rome. Sate the appetite of Emperors Geta and Caracalla as they watch you strike at each other in a frenzied battle for glory in the name of the gods."

Hanno listens intently, his expression thoughtful as he steps closer. Without a word, he helps you smooth the folds of your tunic, his touch deliberate yet gentle. "Will you tell him of our association, then?" he asks, finishing his adjustments and letting his hand linger briefly as it grazes your cheek.

"What is there to tell?" you counter, meeting his gaze with resolve. "Our association is no one’s concern." A smile spreads across Hanno’s face, slow and satisfied, as if your answer pleased him greatly.

Moments later, Ravi appears, his expression tense. "The guards are near," he informs, his tone clipped. His gaze shifts between you and Hanno, briefly noting the closeness between you, though he chooses to remain silent. With a small nod, Ravi turns to Hanno, gesturing for him to follow. Hanno casts you a lingering look before allowing Ravi to lead him toward the guards, leaving you behind with the weight of the encounter still pressing on your chest.

You wait patiently for General Acacius to arrive, though his delay stretches longer than anticipated. The thought suddenly strikes you—he might already be in your quarters, as he has been on previous occasions.

"Would you care to explain," his voice calls out, smooth and laced with quiet reproach, "what reasons led my beloved healer, whom I hold in such high regard, to abandon me to the care of Ravi instead of tending to me herself?" Turning toward the source, you find him stepping into view, pulling back the mantle that had concealed his face and form. His approach is measured, deliberate, and his gaze briefly flickers to the swords you had left behind without considering they might draw his notice.

"You should have sought explanations from your wife, General Acacius," you reply, your tone calm but firm, though the effort to keep it so is greater than it seems. "It was she who instructed me, in the presence of the guards no less, to withdraw from tending to your care." His footsteps pause near the swords, his attention drawn to their gleaming edges. The air between you grows heavier as his eyes shift back to yours, narrowing slightly as he regards you. You remain steadfast, though the distance you keep from him feels tenuous, as if he could close it with the simplest of steps.

"I was not informed of such a decision; I would never have allowed my care to pass from your hands to another's," General Acacius speaks softly, his tone a mixture of calm and yearning as he moves toward you with deliberate caution, yet there is a palpable hunger in his eyes.

"General, whether you authorized it or not is irrelevant," you reply, holding your ground though the weight of his presence begins to press upon you. "Lucilla no longer wishes for us to remain close. Surely, you remember that when all this began, you told me that if your wife were ever to object to our association, even if it was merely for appearances, it would end."

Your words are firm, yet the truth they carry sinks heavily into your own heart. You know now, with certainty, that the chapter of your life entwined with Acacius is nearing its inevitable conclusion.

"Those words were spoken before we became what we are today," Acacius responds, his voice steady yet filled with a quiet intensity. "Surely you know I have no intention of abandoning you." He steps closer, his gaze unwavering, his nearness suffocating in its allure.

"Do not worry for me. Your pity is no longer necessary, Acacius," you say, though the ache in your chest betrays the pain these words bring. Deep down, you have long feared that what he felt for you stemmed from nothing but pity.

"I have never pitied you," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with conviction. "Perhaps I felt empathy for your pain in the beginning, but after that—everything was real. Your presence makes me a better man." His hand reaches up to touch your face, tenderly tracing its contours as if to soften your resolve. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, an intimate gesture meant to draw you back to him, to coax you into his embrace once more.

"You owe your loyalty to your wife, not to me," you say, your voice faltering slightly under the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. "We must no longer allow ourselves to feel anything beyond what is proper, Acacius." Even as you speak, your resolve weakens beneath his touch, his words a balm and a temptation all at once. He seems heedless of your protest, intent only on closing the distance between you.

"Lucilla has my loyalty, but you... you have my protection. I will not leave you unguarded," Acacius says, his lips almost brushing against yours, his voice weighted with emotion.

"Then you should know that my loyalty is no longer yours exclusively," you reply, steadying yourself as you deliver the words. You feel the sharp recoil in Acacius as he steps back, his expression hardening, though disbelief flickers in his eyes.

"I am involved with another," you continue, forcing the lie to your lips with a strength you did not know you possessed. "It may mean that I will no longer require your protection in the future." Your words are a dagger you wield with precision, for you know that to continue as his lover would jeopardize his marriage—a risk you cannot allow, no matter the desires that linger within you.

"Who would dare attempt to claim you, knowing that you are mine?" General Acacius demands, his voice edged with irritation that betrays a rare crack in his calm demeanor. His gaze narrows, his presence no less imposing, but the fury brewing beneath his words sends a shiver through you. You realize the fire you have kindled within him may burn brighter than you anticipated.

"Someone who does not fear the wrath of General Acacius," you say, your voice steady despite the undeniable pull of his proximity. You desire him, undeniably so, but you know you must not have him.

"It is clear that our involvement must end—now. Before it concludes in disaster," you declare, watching as Acacius processes your words, his gaze shadowed with an intensity that seems both pained and unyielding.

"Then let it be clear to you," Acacius responds, his tone laced with an unwavering authority, though no threat lies in his words. "Whoever dares to encroach upon what is mine will meet the edge of my sword without delay. Our bond will not be severed while either of us draws breath, Y/N. Keep that in mind." His declaration is resolute, not spoken as a plea but as a statement of his immutable commitment to you. It leaves you breathless, the weight of his words pressing against the fortress of your resolve.

"You cannot protect me forever, Acacius. Just as I cannot heal you forever," you murmur, stepping closer, your desperation palpable as though silently begging him to release you—to let you go before you both reach a precipice from which there is no return.

"Mea domina," he whispers reverently, stepping closer and pulling down the fabric covering your shoulder with deliberate care. His lips press softly against the exposed skin, lingering as if to seal a silent vow. The tenderness in his touch conveys more devotion than desire, a gesture that leaves you caught between longing and regret.

"I would die if necessary, but I will not abandon those I hold in the highest esteem. You and Lucilla are my priorities, and I will relinquish neither of you. If you place so much faith in this new interest of yours, let him come to me bearing a sword, and he shall find his end," he declares, his voice unwavering and resolute, his words resonating like a solemn oath.

Acacius lifts his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his lips trace a path of soft kisses along your temple, down to the curve of your jaw, and finally your forehead. His lips linger as if memorizing each contour of your face, avoiding your mouth deliberately—a clear boundary, or perhaps his way of expressing silent reproach for the words you have spoken. The kisses feel like a claim, yet also a farewell—his way of both cherishing and punishing, of reminding you of his commitment while withholding the one intimacy he knows you yearn for. The intensity in his gaze as he pulls back speaks volumes, as though he is willing you to see the depths of his resolve. "At times, it feels as though battle is all you truly understand, Acacius," you say, holding his gaze with a penetrating look, as if unraveling the depths of his thoughts.

"I am a man of honor," he replies, his tone firm yet measured. "I will not seek out the man who dares to involve himself with you, but neither will I stand idle should he attempt to take what is rightfully mine." His presence remains close, commanding and resolute, as though he seeks to claim not just the space but the moment itself. With deliberate care, Acacius reaches out, his hand brushing your face in a touch that is at once gentle and laden with unspoken meaning. It lingers, as if he wishes to commit every contour of your features to memory.

Without another word, he steps back, retreating from your chambers with the disciplined stride of a general accustomed to carrying the weight of empires. His departure leaves the room heavy with unresolved tension, the air thick with the echoes of what cannot be spoken. Alone, you are left to ponder the tangled web of emotions and loyalties binding you to both Acacius and Hanno. The weight of your entanglement bears down upon you, as inevitable as the arena’s call to blood and glory.

[thebearer]

if you lie down, lie next to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: you and carmen are newly weds, moving into your forever home.

inspired by @carmybears fic assembly required which has been SO heavy on my mind lately mixed with lana del rey's "if you lie down, lie next to me" <3

contains: fluff. just fluff newly weds, alludes at smut, some language, but tooth rotting sweetness and fluff.

“Carmen, I’m not even kidding. Where the fuck did all of this stuff come from?” You groan, collapsing another cardboard box with a huff, shoving it into the pile with the others by the door. “Our apartment was, like, one-fifth the size of this one. The living room was like our whole apartment. How do we have this much shit?” 

Carmen snorted lightly, grinning and unpacking the various pots and pans. New pots and pans- wedding gifts.Your wedding came with an influx of appliances and cookware, gadgets for the kitchen that Carmen bubbled with excitement about. And a margarita maker- for you, of course- courtesy of Natalie Berzatto herself. The old apartment, you barely had space for the dishes and pots you had, let alone new ones. 

So Carmen kept them tucked away, until he got the new place for you. He didn’t have a clue at the time he’d be buying you the Brownstone you were in now, nestled in the heart of Old Town. A good neighborhood, close-ish to the restaurant, zoned in a good school district- a forever home, for the two of you. 

“I mean, most of it was wedding gifts.” Carmen shrugged. “The rest are your shoes.” He teased, a playful glint in his eye when he looked over at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha,” You said sarcastically, bumping him with your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’m never doing this again. We’re here for life, Berzatto.” 

“That’s the plan, Berzatto.” Carmen nudged you back lightly, leaning to press a sweet kiss to your blushing cheeks, a loving squeeze to your ass when he passed you that left you squealing. 

“The good news is,” Carmen paused, sliding the pot onto the hanging rack over the island, stepping back to admire it. “The kitchen is unpacked.” 

“The most important room.” You hummed playfully. Carmen nodded in agreement, arms slipping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

“Think we should celebrate?” Carmen grinned. “Christen it?” 

“We already christened it.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Twice- no, three times, already.” 

“Yeah but now it’s done.” Carmen countered. “No more boxes in the way.” 

“I think you can only christen something once.” You give him a pointed look, ignoring the way his crotch is rubbing against your hip. You were still sore from the celebratory round of “putting the coffee table together” from earlier. 

“And I’m starving. Should we order in again?” You hum, looking at the fridge. Nothing but a bottle of champagne and leftover takeout Chinese food. Your stomach turned at the thought. 

Carmen caught your grimace, a hand running soothingly down your back. “If you want. I can run to the store, too. Grab some things for dinner. Break in the kitchen now that it’s done.” 

“I think I like that idea better.” You nod, leaning against his chest, feeling his chain through his t-shirt- the same chain you had tucked between your teeth earlier. Your knees wobbled at the thought. “What are you making?” 

“What’re you in the mood for?” Carmen tilted his head back to look at you. “Can make you whatever, baby, just lemme know.” 

“I am down for anything that doesn’t come out of a box.” You giggle, nose snarling at the Chinese food. “Surprise me, Chef.” You grinned smugly, content at how Carmen’s cheeks flushed with heat. 

“You wanna come with me?” Carmen asked, reaching over to swipe his keys off the kitchen counter. 

You rolled your lips in thought. “I need to shower.” You blink at him sweetly. “I feel all sweaty and gross.” 

“Alright. Need anythin’ else, baby?” Carmen is looking for his phone, patting his pockets and turning in a semi-circle to look around him. 

You roll your eyes, plucking the phone off the coffee table in the living room, passing it to him. He was always losing his phone. You’d begged him to get an Apple watch but he swore it got in the way of his cooking, so you took to texting Nat or Richie- who always had their phones- when you needed him. 

“Something to drink? Unless you want champagne because I’m pretty sure that’s all that’s in there.” You giggle, looking at the fridge. 

Carmen smiled, pulling his hat over his tousled locks. “I got it.” He muttered, leaning to press a sweet, soft kiss to your lips, hands splaying over your hips, pulling you closer and closer into him. 

He always managed to make you swoon like that, cheeks rushing with heat, dizzy and light with love. You hoped you’d always feel like this. Even when you were old and wrinkly and wobbly, you hoped Carmen would still kiss you like that- in this very spot, in this very house. 

“Oh, Cass Elliot?” You grinned, spinning with the vinyl in your hands, brows raised playfully at Carmen. “He has taste.” 

Carmen snorted lightly in laughter, dishrag slung over his shoulder, spooning the sauce over the chicken in the pan. The kitchen was warm, smelling heavily of spices and a dash of citrus. You’d set up the vinyl in the corner by the nook, an old school record player passed down from Carmen’s grandmother. His Nonna Berzatto, who he adored. He had told you about how he’d always go over and help her make Sunday sauce. She had that same vinyl in her kitchen, next to a picture of her parents, and a prayer candle of Mary. It was all he managed to get, keep after she passed and his parents sold everything else that they could. He’d even snagged a few records, though the one you held looked new. 

“Yeah. Thought you liked her stuff?” Carmen muttered, eyes cutting to yours gently. 

“I do.” You grinned, slipping the record out of the protective paper. “How’d you know that?” You lifted the arm of the record player, slipping out the old disk and sliding in the new one, careful of the bouquet you’d just placed by it. Carmen had snagged one at the grocery earlier, surprising you with the beautiful bloom when you’d gotten out of the shower. 

“Because, you told me.” Carmen said simply, checking the asparagus inside the stove. Your heart fluttered. “When we were comin’ back from that trip… The, uh, the one we took to Detroit, remember? You played it on the way back.” 

Your chest soared, filling with that warmth that made your body tingle from head to toe. “You remembered that? That was… two years ago?” 

“Of course I remembered that.” Carmen scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you like he couldn’t believe you’d say something so ridiculous. “You said that, uh, that one song was like the love song to you. So I-I started listening to it because… ya know, it reminded me of you and stuff.” Carmen muttered, cheeks heating at the omission. 

You beamed, lifting the long arm of the record player, letting it softly come to life with a scratch of static before the slow melody filled the room. “You’re sweet.” You hum, arms wrapping around his torso, swaying gently to the familiar medley. “Never would’ve guessed you woulda been this sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m given’ off asshole vibes?” Carmen laughed, hips turning slightly to face you. 

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “Gave off recluse vibes.” 

“Recluse?” Carmen turned to you. 

“Yeah, like… quiet, shy boy vibes.” You giggle. “You barely spoke to me when I started… and you hired me!” 

“I thought you were pretty.” Carmen shrugged boyishly. “And I thought if I talked to you, I’d throw up or embarrass myself. Also thought there was no way you’d be single. Too pretty and funny and… I dunno, thought you’d never go out with me.” 

“Little did you know.” You grinned wickedly. “I had been stalking you in secret.” Carmen laughed at you. “I thought you were pretty, too.” 

Carmen blushed at your omission, lips twitching in a smile. You swayed lightly, cheek pressed to his chest, letting the soft melody lull you. You remembered the car ride back from Detroit. Carmen was going to some chef expo there, trying to network and get Sydney the star she deserved. You’d agreed to go along. Things were far enough along it was stable, but still new and exciting. Your first real trip as a couple. You’d stayed in a hotel, gone to Carmen’s colleague’s fancy restaurant, went sightseeing and shopping hand-in-hand. You couldn’t help feeling so romantic, shuffling songs from the playlist you listened to when you were getting ready for a date. Old school tracks, filled with symphonies and ballads of love. 

“I think this is almost done. D’you want to grab the glasses and I’ll-” 

“-Let it sit for a minute.” You sigh contently, turning down the heat on the stove top. 

“What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffs in laughter, turning while you pull at him, your hand lacing through his own, tugging him to the open space on the other side of the kitchen island. 

You just smile at him, pulling him close to you. Your hand in his, the other wrapped around and settled on his spine. His free hand followed, sliding down your back. You leaned towards him, chin tilted towards his face, his curls tickling your forehead. You swayed slowly, nothing elaborate or coordinated, just a soft shuffle type sway, Carmen pulled close to you. 

“‘M not good at this.” Carmen’s breath hitched, hand squeezing yours, his thumb gliding over your wedding rings. 

“Yeah, you are.” You hum, nose brushing his. “Best dancer I’ve ever seen.” You mutter, your lips slotting over his sweetly. Carmen’s hand left yours, cupping your jaw and pulling you closer, his lips soft against your own. Your head found his shoulder, dipping into his collarbone, arms wrapped around his torso while he rocked you gently. The sound of Cass Elliot’s voice humming out of the record player Baby, I’m Yours fading into Words of Love. The fan from the stove still buzzing with life, wafting out the steam from the pans, rhythmically merging with the sounds from the street. A relatively quiet neighborhood, filled with quiet cars and the occasional children’s screech from their strollers that pushed by. It was all so calming, the sound of your new home. Sounds you hoped would become familiar overtime and still shared with Carmen.

[wileys-russo]

NOOOO now we need a pt 2 of cough medicine with a grumpy reader because alexia has passed the cold to her and alexia dressing up in the nurse outfit to surprise her…

lil sequel to this ! suggestive content at the end cough medicine 2.0 II a.putellas

"mi princesa i said i was sorry!" your girlfriend groaned as you scoffed and reached to grab the bottle of water on the coffee table in front of you.

"sorry doesn't make me not sick alexia i warned you!" you grunted ou in annoyance, pushing away her hands which attempted to massage your shoulders.

"bebita in my defense-" your girlfriend started, accent thick as she spoke english but the withering glare you shot her had her wishing she'd mumbled it in spanish and out of your earshot as she fell silent and your attention returned to the television.

"can i get you something?" the catalonian asked sweetly as you ignored her, tucking your knees up to your chest and pulling the blanket to your chin. "mi amor do you need anything? tissue, cough medicine, tea, soup, a hug?" your girlfriend smiled hopefully as you shot her a blistering side eye.

"for you to leave me alone." you grumbled, sniffling and wiping your nose with the sleeve of your hoodie. you'd even refused to wear one of alexia's and thats when she knew you were perhaps just a touch beyond the normal level of grumpy you became when unwell.

though really alexia knew it was her fault. you'd at first been strong and held quite firm to the no kissing rule when she was sick last week, needing to still be viable and healthy to look after her as well as work from home while you did so.

now to the average bystander they'd not know the true nature of your girlfriends incredibly clingy tendencies, but when her walls were down and it was just the two of you she melted like a icey in the sun, crawling on top of you.

if you didn't react fast enough she'd grab your arms and wrap them around her, tucking them up the back of whatever was covering her torso, the blonde mumbling into your neck she wanted back scratches and you'd often tease that if she got any closer she'd be inside your skin.

then when alexia was sick it was even more dire that she have every possible ounce of your attention and touch. so as the hours ticked by and you'd still held firm that her lips weren't to touch yours and she not get too close, her attempts to break you down also doubled.

unfortunately to your own detriment you also found yourself feeling a little touch starved, and the more effort alexia made to getting you to crack the closer and closer you stepped toward the edge.

but over and over you warned her that not only did you have to work but you had a music festival with your friends on the weekend you needed to be in fit and fighting shape for.

spoiler alert, a night of consolation kisses to cheer up your incredibly pouty and miserable girlfriend who was informed she'd not be fit enough to make the squad this weekend meant it was needless to say you weren't going to the music festival now.

it had been frosty for the last two days since.

you'd even gone as far as to put up a pillow wall as a compromise for not kicking alexia out of the bed much to the constant whining and apologizing and groveling and begging and pleading you were far too tired and unwell to give into.

"mi vida. por favor i do not know what else to do, i have said over and over i am very sorry!" alexia groaned again, collapsing into the sofa beside you, thumping into the cushions and hazel eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"i told you, leave me alone." you huffed, well aware you were now bordering on overreacting but your dampened state of well being and the fomo of watching your friends all have fun at the festival without you was making it near impossible to move on from that.

with one final sigh and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before you could push her away alexia did as you asked and left you be. and with the warmth of the blanket and your inconsistent temperature it didn't take long before you drifted off.

when you woke up it was to an all too familiar smell, lifting your head groggily and peeking over the back of the lounge you could see your girlfriend with her back to you in the kitchen.

you hadn't made a single noise but alexia could feel your eyes on her as she glanced over her shoulder and threw you a smile which you didn't return, though you also didn't turn away, resting your chin on top of the sofa and watching her as she cooked.

"are you making your soup?" you rasped out after awhile, unable to ignore the overwhelmingly alluring smell wafting closer and closer. "maybe." alexia grinned coyly as you rolled your eyes and flopped back down onto the sofa.

"not in the mood for cute." you quipped with a huff, stretching your arms out behind your head and tuning back into the spanish soap opera your girlfriends sister had gotten you shamefully addicted to, though alba never ceased to tease that you needed the subtitles on.

you glanced up when you heard someone clear their throat, looking up at your girlfriend for a fleeting moment as she stood before you and placed down two bowls of soup on the coffee table before your gaze returned to the television

but then when you realized alexia had done an outfit change, your head snapped back so fast you near gave yourself whiplash.

"hola bebita." she purred with a suggestive smile as you sat upright and covered your mouth with your hand, taking in your incredibly athletically built girlfriend in all her glory.

her glory being the ill fighting barely covering nurses costume that was yours which was sitting taunt against her muscular body.

given the fact it was made in your size and not hers, and she easily stood two and a half heads taller, she looked like one wrong move would have her bursting out of it like the hulk.

and so you did the only thing your body could do in the moment taking her in and the way her thick quad muscles had the garters wrapped around them about a millisecond from snapping, you collapsed backwards into the sofa clutching at your stomach, body heaving with laughter which rang around your empty shared home.

the reaction was clearly not what the taller girl anticipated as her mouth formed a small o and she crossed her arms, the way the sleeves ripped as she did so only making you laugh harder.

"hey! this was supposed to be sexy, not funny!" alexia protested with a huff, your head shaking to and fro as you tried to stop laughing for a moment so you could get a word out.

"cariño its not funny!" alexia groaned, a slight blush coating her cheeks as she shuffled closer. "oh mi amor you're forgiven. you're so forgiven!" you pulled your phone out and wiped a stray tear, snapping a few photos as your girlfriend gasped and tried to cover up.

"well this was not what i wanted but i am glad to at least see you smile again." alexia gave in with a shake of her head, moving to sit down beside you so you could both eat, grateful to hear her favorite noise once more as your belly laughter subsided into giggles.

but right as she did a strange noise sounded and your hand once more flew to your mouth, alexia now near naked beside you as the entire back of the ensemble ripped clean in half, your eyes raking over the taunt tattooed and tanned skin of her back.

"don't." alexia warned seriously, a pleading look in her eyes as you lost it again, sagging into her and clutching at your stomach as the sounds of your laughter filled the air. "amor!" alexia whined, clearly embarrassed as her hands flew to cover her own face.

"are you comfortable?" you teased, sitting up on your knees beside her once your laughter had settled, wrenching alexia's hands away from her face with a raised eyebrow. "no." your girlfriend mumbled with a huff and a roll of her eyes.

"so now you understand how it feels when i dress up for you." you hinted, eyebrow raising even higher as alexia sighed but nodded. "i have more muscles! it hurts more." the girl huffed, bottom lip jutting out into a slight pout.

"thats what you're going to take from all of this? ale i just forgave you, don't piss me off again." you huffed smacking her chest lightly as the corners of her mouth curled upward slightly.

"why not? it is what you are taking from this, no?" the slight smile turned into a full on grin now as she settled back into the lounge a little more clearly making an effort to flex her biceps and upper arm muscles as they sat folded behind her head.

"still not in the mood for cute. and thanks to you i'm sick, so if it was sex you were angling for putellas...think again." your hand smacked gently against her cheek a few times with a wink.

though before you could reach for your food your back was flat against the sofa and your girlfriend hovered over you, settling herself on her knees between your legs.

"you know bebita, there is still a lot i can do for you while you are unwell. but only if you are feeling up to it!" a singular finger trailed down your bare leg, her smirk widening at the goosebumps which arose in response.

"well you are a nurse, and it would be wrong of me to assume i know what i need better than a nurse." you smiled, alexia raising an eyebrow as she sunk a little lower, a few kisses trailed up your leg as you hummed, already feeling better as they got higher and her large hands gripped your thighs pushing your legs even further apart.

you sighed in pleasure and tangled your hands in her hair as her chin rested on your abdomen, looking up at you with a smile as she played with the hem of your shorts, t-shirt pushed upward and a few kisses placed to your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed and your shorts suddenly dissapeared.

"let me make it all feel better princesa."

[nuemanfilms]

Yip! Good to know ur still taking requests 😇 I love your writing sm but take ur time hun <3

I’m an absolute sucker for watching a guy cum in his jeans and personally think it would adorable if you could do a fic or just a little smth about teasing poor Sammy and him cumming in his pants before you even touch him and bring superr embarrassed about it because he’s still painfully hard. Thank youuu! Love your stuff, keep it up!! <33 -🪲

— you’re gonna get me in trouble for this one..

Summary based on the request!!

Warnings thigh humping, begging, lots and lots of teasing, sub!sam, dom!fem, sam cums in his pants (duh), pet names (Sweetheart, baby), this is just filth for sub!sam tbh.

A/N yeah.. i’m going to hell for this.

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume under this age!!

Sam knew that if anyone saw him in this state, especially if anyone had known, including his brother, about what he was doing in this compromising position, he would never hear the end of it. Yet with his desperate and needy state right now? He couldn’t focus on anything else but you.

It was innocent at first, you doing your nightly routine before getting in bed with your boyfriend while he took his place between your thighs. Your fingers combing through his hair, it was what happened when you two were alone together.

Sam was touch-starved honestly, he hadn’t been with you like this for a few weeks due to hunts with his brother and the nights in shitty motel rooms wasn’t that exciting at all. He was deprived of your affection, your touch. But finally feeling your skin beneath his palms had him realizing he was much more needy than he intended.

He doesn’t exactly remember how it got into this, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

Sam’s hands roamed your chest that was finally revealed to him after his constant begging to see you. It wasn’t often that he was like this, but you enjoyed it either way.

His bulge was clearly poking at your thigh, and you nearly laughed at his desperate state. You hadn’t even touched him and he was practically throbbing for you already.

“Are you this turned on, Sam?” You teased, he avoided your eyes. Basically looking anywhere but your irises as his lips pressed open-mouthed kisses against your breasts. He missed feeling your skin against his lips.

“Look at me, baby.” You said, and he finally did. His eyes glassy due to his nearly painful hardness and he was obviously embarrassed that he’d gotten this worked up this quickly.

He swallowed before muttering a small ‘Yeah’ to your previous question and a devilish smile curled up on your lips. As much as he didn’t want to beg, he did anyways before he could even stop himself.

“Please, please can you touch me?” He whined, his hips bucked involuntarily against your inner thigh which made him let out a pathetic moan. He clearly enjoyed that, more than he’d admit.

“Why should I, hm? You can’t do it yourself, baby?” You were teasing him, and he was getting more needy by the second, “N-No.. just, please.. I need something- anything.” Sam was aching beneath his jeans, the denim way too tight.

“You wanna use my thigh to get off, sweetheart? Is that what you want?” He nodded, he needed anything, anything that could atleast give him some sort of relief. His hands went down to undo his belt, but you stopped him.

He looked up at you, confused at your sudden movement.

“Keep them on.” Sam’s eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting that request from you. It’s not like he had another choice though, he did say anything after all.

His lips quivered as he nodded his head, his hips moving hesitantly against you. He didn’t think he’d enjoy this, but he got more out of it than he thought. Causing his hips to move more willingly.

Sam’s lips wrapped around your nipple to muffle his moans. You let out a soft moan yourself, your fingers running through his shaggy hair again but this time you were tugging and he let out a whine at that. His hips were grinding against you even more, the denim of his jeans scratching your skin slightly, but you didn’t mind.

He closed his eyes, his mouth parting as he got even more lost in the pleasure. You’d never seen Sam this desperate, but it wasn’t a sight you’d wanna miss. His hair was clearly messy from your fingers tugging at the locks.

He was getting close, but everything felt so good that he didn’t notice his own orgasm impending.

“I didn’t know you could be this needy, Sam. You really are desperate, huh? Getting off just by humping my thigh..” You had a mocking tone in your voice. Sam’s eyes shut tighter, his hips stilled as he came with a pathetic whimper.

He buried his face against your chest, trying to come down from his orgasm as his own release soaked his boxers.

The worst part was that he was still throbbing for more, and he knew you could tell.

He was embarrassed for numerous reasons, one, because he had basically just come undone just by rutting against your thigh, and second was because he was still hard even after the intensity of his orgasm from moments ago.

“Hey, hey.. you did so good, Sammy. So good, yeah? Did that feel better?” You cooed, he nodded hesitantly before mumbling out something incoherent before repeating himself, “I- I need more.. please?”

You smiled, “Of course, Sweetheart.”

[bloodblanks]

FOLLOW YOUR DEAD DOVE HEART im BEGGING YOU TO WRITE DARK HEADCANONS FOR HIM homicipher lacks so much dead dove: do not eat content its crazy...please...i need food...

no caus like. i’m absolutely fucking flabbergasted at the homicipher fics out there. not that there’s anything wrong with fluff but it’s shocking to me that homicipher has such a lack of dead dove. like out of all the fandoms that i would think have dead dove fics, homicipher is definitely near the top of the list.

but every single day i am desperately prowling the internet for homicipher dead dove and i just CANNOT find any. like. i swear i’m one out of like. two and a half dead dove writers in this entire fandom. where are my brethren… </3 it’s so hard out here i need more dead dove content i’m starving 😭😭

like tbh it seems to me that most of homicipher’s fanbase is literally just here because of mr. crawling. who canonically is the least dead dove coded character ever 😭 like crawling’s popularity is more than all the other characters combined i swear (besides scarletella maybe) so us dead dove girlies are just gonna have to starve ig 💔

and like. crawling is adorable at all but he just doesn’t scratch that itch for me sobsobsob but barely anyone wants to read any of the other characters sniff sob

truly a tragic and devastating world for us dead dove enjoyers

[melodic-haze]

Okay, hear me out. Having the power over the Tsaritsa herself

If we get Arle our levels should surely surpass and manage to get the ice woman herself under our thumb.. RAHSHSHHAHD the thought alone makes me so turned on Imaginee???

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Tsaritsa x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Degredation 🤷‍♀️✌️ one day I will use this part for something genuinely worrying like someone dying idk but today is NOT that day

☆ — NOTES: When I tell you I stared before screaming in sheer glee 😭😭😭 LIKE THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME AND MY POWER FANTASIES HALLELUJAH

God I love having powerful women at my feet ty YESSIR I CAN IMAGINE IT AND I'M GOING INSANE❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

This woman was once a goddess so full of love, only for her heart to harden once she ran out of love to give :(((( it's up to you to give her that love again 🥰

In all seriousness though it is such a PRIVILEGE to be let past the many walls she has made for herself, let alone being able to hold her heart in your hands. Please hold it gently :( I know you lot wanna get on with it already but the path towards loving and domming this archon is! Very difficult! But in the end it's so worth it :333 bc she will show you pure, utter love and devotion—it'll have everyone, especially the Harbingers, jealous of such a connection, though whether they're jealous of you for being in the arms of their Tsaritsa or they're jealous of their GOD being the receiver of your love is anyone's guess

Ofc there's always the option where you date the Harbingers too but like that isn't the focus here shhhhh 🤫🤫🤫🤫

Once you have gained her full trust, now all you need is to reassure her that it's okay to put down her crown whenever it's just the two of you. It'll certainly take a while again, but when she finally has the courage to let go and essentially give you the reigns, well...

It started off with the same sort of song-and-dance, with the two of you kissing each other deeply as your hands roamed around each other's bodies.. yet usually none of your actions have ever gone beyond simply feeling each other up and building up that excitement before simply letting it down lightly and settling for something less.. carnal.

This time, however, it's as if some hidden switch had been found—you know not of what spurred your beloved archon to get more starved for touch than usual, with her hands wandering within the confines of your clothing and brushing onto bare skin, but you weren't complaining in the least.. though you couldn't help but feel confused.

It is only when she backs you up and pushes you down onto the bed before straddling your lap with a brand new look in her eyes, so utterly clouded with need, that you realise what she wants.

"Are you sure? You know I don't mind waiting for as long as you need."

"And how long will you last in this world before it takes you from me too?" The Tsaritsa shakes her head with a sad smile as she focuses on you despite the lustful daze she's in, "No, I am ready to be taken by you, in both body and soul."

You couldn't help but soften at your lover's confession, warmth filling you despite the cold radiating off her skin—something of a side effect from being the Cryo Archon, you had guessed—and just a touch of melancholy brushing against your heart as she speaks of her fear for the loss of you.

It's not as if you were going to simply discard such a proclamation, especially when it comes from the Goddess of Love herself, so you gently brush a hand on her cheek before moving down to squeeze her bicep in reassurance, "If that is what my Archon wants, then--"

"No."

"No?"

"Within the confines of this room, I do not want to be above your stature." She wraps her hands around your neck, causing you to shiver pleasantly at the icy contact, "I wish to be equals.. and..."

"And..?"

Her voice was quieter this time, a lot more bashful as she looks away with a rosy tint on her cheeks, "Perhaps even.. below you.. with a loss of my power."

"..You're sure?"

"Yes, I..." She lets out a light exhale before looking at you with true sincerity in her eyes, "I trust you with full control over me."

You try to find the words that seem appropriate to answer with, and yet you find none. So you kiss her tenderly at first.. before deepening the kiss, taking charge as you pull her towards you.

When she lets out a low moan of satisfaction, you couldn't help but smile as you proceeded beyond the line that the two of you were initially hesitant to cross.

Anyways after that, you have the feared Tsaritsa at the palm of your hand, ready and eager to do what you'd want to do ☺️☺️☺️☺️

Imagine being gentle with her at first, showing her soooo much love in your actions as you kiss and touch and worship her body. Her breaths are heavy and deep, perhaps even hot if it weren't for the fact that they came out as cold fogs. In fact, she's cautious at first due to her being very cold, her body temperature SO unlike yours but you tell her that it's okay!!! It'll feel even better anyway 🫶 why?

Temperature play ☺️☺️☺️ she's naturally really cold, so if you put your finger in her sopping cunt, your warmth is doing basically like half the work for you. Start adding friction into the equation, moving your digits inside her as you pepper hot kisses on pale skin and let your tongue swirl on her breasts, and she'll be squirming in basically no time due to how hot your touch feels compared to hers 🫶🫶🫶🫶

THEN you get rougher with her; adding more force into your touch and you start getting more relentless by the second and preventing her from actually taking a moment. The moment you say something degrading towards her by pure accident, you swear it just slipped out, at first you think you've made a GRAVE mistake like yk she said that you can do whatever but YOU DON'T THINK SHE MEANT??? THAT!!!!!!! But when a whine escapes her lips as her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head, her wet folds squeezing your fingers all the while, you realise she LIKES that. And that's like. Holy shit she trusts you THAT much that she's LETTING you essentially ruin her and her godly image

The moment you mutter both words of praise AND degredation is the moment she's gonna be SOOOO GONEEEEEEE❗️❗️❗️

"You're sucking me in," you mused out loud with a light smirk. "Who knew the Cryo Archon turned out to be such a pretty whore... For someone like me, no less."

She bucks her hips up with a raspy moan at your words, the sound absolutely sinful to your ears, despite the fact that at the state she was in, there was no way she understood most of what you said. Her skin flushed and her lips swollen because of you, the once ever-so-frigid archon was reduced to a pathetic mess.

Of course such a scene was an ego boost for you, not to mention a turn on.

Your lips traced a line all the way down, from her lips.. to her chest.. to her abdomen.. until it brushes her sensitive clit, your breath hot against cold skin. You feel her fingers tangle themselves in your hair, gripping tightly in anticipation and need for you to do whatever it is you wanted to do.

"My beautiful girl is so eager for me, aren't you?" You cooed as your free hand airily grazed the outside of her thigh before gripping onto it, "Don't worry your pretty little head, hm? I'll give you sooo much love, you won't even know what to do with it all."

All it took was one lick with your tongue, the muscle so unbearably hot to her touch, for the Tsaritsa to realise that you were going to make good on that promise of yours.

SHE'LL TAKE EVERYTHING WITHOUT A WORD OF COMPLAINT UGGHGB in fact she'll even DELIGHT in the change of roles, in the way that you're happily using and toying with her :3333

Overstimming her would be SO MUCH FUN because of the temperature build-up. Not to mention if you say that you love her??? Oh FUCK her reaction is delightful—she'll start fucking CRYING, both at the overstim and the fact that you truly love her and you were willing to show it in every way you can :((((( and suddenly she's seeing STARS behind her eyelids as she cums herself silly :3

From that and the later sessions you have, it's very clear who TRULY holds the reigns between you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 and with the Tsaritsa, who needs and DESERVES a break from being looked down upon as some......some antagonist in Teyvat's story, well. She wouldn't have it any other way 🥰

Oh. One more thing before this is done!!! She's an EXPERT at aftercare hello she's not the (former) Goddess of Love for nothing, just saying..........just give her a few mins to recover first. Or maybe an hour. Just give her a moment 😭😭😭 OR ALTERNATIVELY PAMPER HER AFTERWARDS❗️❗️❗️❗️ Take care of her, you'll see her cry again, something she'd usually refuse to do around everyone else, and you just gotta hug her and tell her you're here and it's okay and that you love her :((((

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Miguel comes home stressed out 😏😉 Can be soft or rough, whatever you’d like🫶🏼

stress relief

miguel o’hara x f!reader

wc || 1132

warnings || pure smut, no plot || 18+ only sexually explicit content (praise, foreplay, unprotected p in v, climax control, pet names, cream pie etc) minors dni

hii!! ofc🤭🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

masterlist

Miguel was ravenous, starved. Nothing could suffice his hunger other than you. All day, he's had the same sinful thoughts clouding his brain, thoughts of you, utterly shameful thoughts of you. You were a persistent notion in his mind and the only thing keeping him going during his stressful day. He was yearning for you, desperate, aching at the thought of you, your sweet pussy and your pretty little cries.

He sluggishly walks into the apartment, closing the door behind him. 

"Cariño?" he calls out, his words full of need. "Baby?"

"Hi," you cutely greet him in your usual way, smiling wide at the sight of him. "Miss me?" you speak playfully, making your way over to him.

"Always," he says low with a wry smirk. His large hands reach to hold around your jaw, gently guiding you towards his lips and brushing over them as he softly groans into your mouth. "I always miss you, princesa," he pulls away to look at you, his eyes slowly darkening. 

His hands roam to your waist, urgently clasping around it as he walks you backwards, guiding you to the bedroom. "Let me show you how much, hm?" he whispers against your lips, his voice low and dark. 

The kiss grows more desperate like neither of you could get enough, hungrily working over one another's lips, selfishly almost. Miguel controls the kiss, deepening it as he lays you against the mattress, hovering over you and settling himself between your thighs. "Did you miss me?" he softly asks, sliding his hand down the front of your pyjama shorts, his eyes widening as he brushes over the damp patch in your underwear. "You did, hm?" he subtly grins, palming you through the fabric. 

His free hand is cupped under your jaw, tilting your head back to expose more skin to him as he peppers it with urgent, sloppy kisses. "Feel me, mi amor," he whispers against your skin, his words slightly muffled. "Feel how much I missed you," 

His cock is hard and heavy as it rests against your thigh, protruding in his tight spidersuit, practically bulging through the fabric. Your eyes squint in anticipation as you gaze into his dark eyes full of desire, attentively watching the little subtle expressions on one another's faces. 

He slides his middle finger through your damps folds, parting the slick-coated flesh with an amused grin. "That all for me?" he quietly asks, littering delicate kisses underneath your ear while he circles his finger around your entrance, teasing you open as he stares into your pleading eyes. He slides in his two middle fingers, sinking into your perfect pussy and immediately curling upwards. "Yeah?" he coos, hearing your initial soft whimper.

You melt around his fingers, clutching and loosing around them as he gradually massages upwards, rubbing your g-spot, the spot you both loved. Slowly pumping your pussy with his fingers. 

He looks down at you with eyes full of desperation, his lids hanging low as he watches your features contort, watching your brows twist and knit in pleasure. "Hm?" he murmurs, his fingers working into you with slightly more force. "Am I making you feel good, querida?" he raspily whispers into the crook of your neck, softly skimming his teeth along the skin. "Am I making my girl feel good?"

He could feel you flutter around his fingers, could feel you right there, clamping and tightening around them, practically begging for your release. A daring smirk on his face as he drags them from you. "Not yet, cariño... not yet," he whispers, sitting on his knees between your thighs, watching the pleading look in your eyes. "Aw," he coos patronisingly, grinning at the dissatisfaction on your face. "You gotta wait for me, hm? Wait for me," he husks once more, slipping off his suit, his gaze locked on yours.

His cock springs out from his fabric restraints, his head swollen and leaking precum, looking almost painful. "Look at what you do to me, mi amor," he says low, nodding to his aching erection. "I need you," his voice desperate, speaking in a way that's so unfamiliar to you. 

He wraps his hand around his cock, slowly stroking over himself, being extra careful in case he explodes right there and then. He's been aching for you all day, craving you since this morning, refusing to touch himself until he got home to you. So the sensation of his rough palm around his cock nearly made him blow a load before he could even get inside you, before he could feel your warm pussy hug around him.

His breathing almost trembles as he guides his dick towards you, gingerly trailing his tip through your wet folds. Miguel looks down at you, staring at your pretty little face as he slips inside you. He sucks his bottom lip in, clamping down as if to hold himself off, struggling to maintain the slither of self-composure he had left. "You feel so good," he mutters, his voice hoarse.

He slowly begins to wind into you, working into you in a way that makes his cock twitch and eyes screw closed. "You sound so pretty, bebé," he praises, his fingers running up your throat, clasping around your jaw and holding you there as he stares into your lust-filled eyes. "Aw, what is it?" he coos, watching the bliss tug on your features. "Is it too much? Hm? Am I too much for you?" he asks, breathing hard, strangled. 

His thrusts grow more precise, like he was right there. His hips wound into you in a way that made you clamp around him, a way that made you twitch and jolt with every thrust. "You gotta come first, amor. I can't if you don't," he murmurs, his eyebrows pulling together in concentration. "Please come around my dick," he asks pleadingly, his free hand roaming your side, desperately kneading and squeezing into every dip and curve. 

You feel yourself get closer and closer, tightening around his twitching cock as your head flies back, whimpering pretty cries into the air. He lowers to you, swallowing and muffling your moans. "That's it," he praises again, muttering against your lips.

His breathing grows erratic as he rambles Spanish curses beside your ear, pulsating inside you before spilling his warm arousal deep in your pussy, coating your walls in his come. Sloppily fucking it into you.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

His thrusts halt, and his strained breathing steadies as he drags his cock from you, attentively watching his arousal seep and leak out of you. His come trailing from you.

He collapses onto the mattress beside you, instantly wrapping his arms around you to bring you closer, close to where he needs you most, his chest.

"Mierda." he softly chuckles, placing a kiss between your brows.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Yandere Muichiro, Tanjiro and Giyuu forcing his beloved to eat, and she spits the food out or turns her head to the side refusing. Because she is angry after the kidnapping?

Ooooh! Okay! This can be very simple to write about! It’s been so long since I’ve done a proper request so let’s go, here it comes!

Yandere Muichiro

“Darling… I am done with this foolish game, eat now”

Muichiro’s patience is running thin very fast as his fingertips press firmer on the pair of chopsticks he is holding out, the contents inbetween the eating utensils being a fresh hot salmon dumpling. It’s been fifteen minutes straight of this going on and on…

You, his beloved little angel, just refusing to eat the lunch he had spent almost two whole hours making, all for you and you’re rejecting him? What is he doing wrong? Why aren’t you happy? You’re with him now, you’re in the safety of his home and it’s so cozy, warm and perfect in this bedroom. What is there to dislike about this situation? Muichiro doesn’t get it

To you, you couldn’t despise Muichiro anymore than you already do. He took away your freedom, disorientated your senses, dragged you to this awful mansion and has tied you up to a futon by a pair of steely Nichirin metal chains, you cannot break free and he is forcing you to stay put all so obediently until he comes back. Everytime Muichiro walks into the room, you want to throw up

Muichiro, with furious sharp mint green eyes and a open scowl at your refusal as you stay silent and tilt your head away from him, uses his free hand to roughly grip your chin and pull your face back into his forward-facing direction to pry open your mouth by your cheeks with no-longer gentle calloused fingers to shove the dumpling into your mouth, forcing you to close your mouth with his strong, stern hold as it looks like he is ready to snap your neck if you disobey him…

How could such a sweet, timid little cutie like Muichiro, the young adult you had fallen for. End up being such a sick psychopath like this? And what did you do to deserve this type of treatment? Kidnapped, socially-isolated, heartbroken and now being forced to eat food you are thousand percent certain may just be laced with some type of drug…

Yandere Tanjiro

Tanjiro sighs gently, on the verge of just losing himself but he will not give up at all, never, he cannot just risk being all flimsy whilst his beloved is incapable of caring for herself. His determination is made of titanium and his will is stronger than steel. The Kamado smiles warmly and sweetly, his pretty plum red eyes almost glowing as he, once again, picks out a chopstick-full of nice healthy seafood rice and places it in his mouth. Like with a picky stubborn child, he is demonstrating that the dinner he has brought for you on this fine cool night, is not dangerous and not laced with anything

The food, its quality and its safety is not the problem to you at all, the real problem is what Tanjiro has done to you… your ex-crush, the man you really liked. Ended up being a complete and utter dangerous monster to you, drugged you up with a simple cup of tea, dragged you back to his Estate and is now keeping your disappearance a secret, so nobody can try look for you as he has made sure everybody thinks you had passed away from a mission

Continuously spitting out the rice chopstick-fulls that Tanjiro gently but firmly shoves into your mouth, his tolerance over the ‘disrespect’ grows more and more unable to keep up. You just keep refusing him at every turn and he finds it so heartbreaking, he has done so much for you… so much. His love for you is so strong that he can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving him mad, just as much as you refusing to eat the dinner is

Tanjiro can only hope the demonstrations he keeps doing for you will break through your stubborn barrier, he is only doing this for your health and your safety. Just eat the food already, you need some type of sustenances, you can’t starve yourself. That’ll make Tanjiro just lose his marbles to a uncontrollable state if he cannot make you digest anything beneficial and life-saving, especially when you clearly need it. Now, that you’re restrained to his futon and not going anywhere anytime soon

He is very ready to just begin begging as you close your mouth with a open hateful scowl directed at him, it makes his heart shatter further at how much you openly despise him, how angry and agitated you are. You’ve been this way for hours, for days and it’s getting tiresome. You just need to accept your new life, that’s Tanjiro’s thought process. He doesn’t like seeing you so upset and so irritate but he cannot risk you going out, where demons and men run around… it’s too dangerous

“Please, sweetheart… how about just half? Can you just have half?”

Yandere Giyuu

Giyuu is growing frustrated. So frustrated as he gazes the shattered ceramic bowl and the discarded of piping hot udon, the savoury liquid pooling over the large broken pieces of the cutlery. How disappointing and cruel… Giyuu is trying his best to make you eat, his precious sweetheart, the one woman he needs more than anything ever. He has gone far beyond any other person would to make sure you will stay with him, he can’t stand the fact you’re not cooperating him

Giyuu’s cold dark sapphire blue eyes slide from the destroyed remnants of the dinner he cooked for you to you directly, tied up with firm tight ropes up against his futon and trying to wiggle out of the grasp of the irritating binds. Giyuu won’t let you leave at all so there is truly no point for you to try, you’re never walking out of the door without him linked to your side, you’re never talking to anybody without his permission. He won’t take any chances and he cannot lose you, like he has lost everybody else in his life

“My love… was there something off about the udon?”

You didn’t even answer Giyuu, not at all giving him a single side-glance at your pure unadulterated fury bubbling over uncontrollably that you just desire to lash out at your kidnapper. The sweet, shy, small-voiced man you had enjoyed speaking to in your time of independent freedom. The one who went from gentle but interested to a full-blown threat as he took you away from humanity, he took away your ability to walk around and now suspects you to love him back?!

Giyuu, on his end, is just trying his best to prove to you how much you mean to him, that he has gone to such a extreme drastic, the most extreme drastic possible, to show you his undivided passionate love. That he is devoting so much of his time to you and taking care of you, the most perfect little housewife. You don’t need to do anything anymore. Don’t you want a man to take care of you and ensure no demons ever touch you? That sounds great to Giyuu as a whole

Maybe not today, but Giyuu will make you love him as much as he loves you, he will make you willingly accept every longtime cooking gift he presents you, he will have you all his to the point you don’t even want to go out anymore. He must, he needs you and he knows he can’t live without you nor with himself if you’re still running around the dead of night where demons prowl, you’re safe here and that’s the greatest thing a Hashira like him can do for his lover