#I was like I should take a break from drawing faces let me draw A STARSHIP

[curioushabitforarivergod]

Twenty-Four Seeds

(Harrymort Ancient Rome AU)

So much context for this piece. Historically this is the 1st century BCE and all these fruits (and more) were available to Romans. Everyone had slaves — figures suggest 1/3 of people at the time were slaves. Pliny the Elder wrote about the potency of Campanian wine made from grapes grown on Mt Vesuvius' slopes. Religions were referred to as cults, and Christianity wasn't around quite yet (Judaism was). Hades and Persephone is obviously a Greek myth, but the Romans were heavily inspired by them in everything. 954 words.

"Harry," Voldemort says quietly. His voice carries in the empty dining room. "Come here, Harry. Eat for me."

Harry's lips curl upwards as he suppresses the shiver of delight that runs down his spine. He steps towards the chaise where Voldemort reclines, decedent displays of fruit — apples, figs, grapes, quinces, berries and currants of all kinds, melons, pomegranate, medlars, numerous more Harry cannot count — resting on the low tables beside him.

Harry kneels beside Voldemort's chaise lounge, pressing his face against the cool, skeletal hand that belongs to his Lord. It should feel demeaning, debasing to kneel like this, but it is far from an act of submission. Harry has power and Voldemort knows it; he sends the slaves out with a wave of his hand because of this fact.

Alone, Harry presses his lips softly against the palm of Voldemort's hand. The skin is soft, like he hasn't worked a day in his life, but this is a lie. Voldemort toiled for years to create his empire, fought wars, wielded sword and magic as easy as breathing. In creating the perfect version of himself, he removed those callouses and Harry delights in this power to fashion himself into perfection.

"My Lord," Harry says. "Voldemort. My Tom." Each word is said more reverently than the last. "And I your humble servant."

Voldemort lets out a hiss of laughter. "You are not humble, Hadrian." He uses the praenomen, Harry thinks, to tease him. "Greedy, jealous, powerful, certainly. Never humble."

Harry grins into Voldemorts palm before kissing it again. "You said you would feed me. Do you break your promises so easily, my Lord?"

Voldemort snarls and draws his hand away from Harry's mouth, but after a few seconds, an apple slice is placed at Harry's lips in apology.

"Do you know," Voldemort says conversationally, as Harry's teeth scrape against the pads of his fingers, "there is a cult of men who believe that a snake tempted woman to eat an apple, then woman man and this was the First Evil?"

Harry shakes his head, reaching for the goblet of wine on the table. "I didn't," he says, taking a sip. Campanian wine — far more potent than most, grown on the slopes of the mountain. "Does this make you the snake or woman?"

Voldemort hums, as if considering. In truth, Harry can feel the eyes watching him as he drains the goblet, setting it back down on the low table and liking the dark wine from where it has stained on his lips.

Readjusting his position, Harry looks up at Voldemort through his lashes. "Or are you the First Evil?"

Voldemort hums again, this time amused. "We should not put so much faith in the religion of men," he says, his bony fingers stroking the side of Harry's cheek in a singular movement. "After all, there is no god who holds the same amount of power over me as you."

The words give Harry head-rush. Voldemort, dictator and war general, the man who holds Rome in his palm, is powerless to Harry. He knew already, of course he did. But the confirmation… and he thinks of how a god could submit a human like him.

"I worship you," Harry says, voice low and catching in his throat. "Entirely, utterly."

Voldemort's lips twitch. "I know, my soul," he murmurs, voice soft.

His hands draw away from Harry's face, almost embarrassed of his emotions, reaching once more at the table. After a moment, a fig presses insistently at Harry's lips, drenched in honey. Harry bites.

Honey is slow moving. It is made by bees who spend lives searching in flowers and nature. Yet it drips down Harry's chin, too fast for him to capture. It bursts across his tongue, sweetening the already jam-like taste of the fig. Saccharine.

The honey spread across Harry's lips and tongue makes Voldemort bite back a smile. Harry watches through dark eyelashes as his Lord presses another fruit to his lips — a plum this time, and it drips down his chin again, slipping across his throat — before Voldemort presses his goblet to Harry's mouth, forcing him to drink the wine.

"Messy," Voldemort chides.

He doesn't mean it.

His eyes are dark, his skin cool. He feeds Harry far more gently than one would a pet, pressing each fruit, each delicacy to his lips, rather than throwing scraps on a bone. This is a mutual worship; the lines between god and human would blur if Harry didn't take each fruit with whispered gratitude.

Harry's head hums with alcohol, his belly with food. Digging into the flesh of a pomegranate, he draws twelve seeds.

"Persephone," he says, aching, "ate six seeds to stay with Hades for a half-year. As per myth, if I eat twelve I'll stay by your side forever."

The seeds burst across his tongue. The outside is slightly bitter, a singular hard husk on each that disappears as soon as Harry tastes it, replaced by a sweet richness that he never wants to wash away. He'd never eat another thing if it meant the promise stay on his tongue like this. But the last seed slips away.

For a moment, Harry thinks Voldemort might kiss him. Draw him to his feet, drag Harry's body onto his own and share heat. Instead, his Lord reaches for the pomegranate abandoned by Harry.

Voldemort digs his own bony fingers into the fruit, staining their whiteness with a light blood. Harry imagines those same hands plunging into skin like it did in Gaul. Bodies destroyed, mutilated, beautiful in their bloodiness. This is a god, this is the promise Hades and Persephone never got to fulfil.

Voldemort draws out twelve seeds and eats them. One by one.

More Harrymort Ancient Rome

Laurel Wreath / Twenty-Four Seeds

[supertaliart]

Skywalker Siblings Part 3

First Previous

[thef1diary]

Piano Punishment | C. Leclerc

Summary: You feel neglected by Charles due to his busy schedule, so you ask him to play the piano for you to regain his attention. Things take a turn when you spread your legs right in front of him with only one rule: he must play without a single mistake.

Part 2: edged

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, spanking (like twice), things that should not be done on a piano.

wc: 2.4k

masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The summer sun filters through the lace curtains, casting intricate patterns of light and shadows across the room. You're standing by the window, feeling the heat of the day mixed with a simmering irritation. Charles had been distant lately, not entirely by choice. His time had been consumed by the relentless demands of being a Formula One driver. Now that summer break began, his focus had shifted to the excitement surrounding his new ice cream brand. Meetings, phone calls, and endless travel have left little room for the intimacy you once shared.

Determined to change that, you head to the bedroom, opening your wardrobe. You sift through your clothes, selecting a simple summer dress that clings to your curves in all the right places. It seemed normal, appropriate according to the weather, but it was just a part of your plan. You forego underwear, adding a tantalizing element only you were aware of.

You glance at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and letting your hair fall loosely around your shoulders. Satisfied with your appearance, you left the bedroom, your mind set on drawing Charles away from his duties.

You find him in his study, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen, engrossed in some unknown task. You walk in quietly, your presence a gentle intrusion into his self-imposed isolation.

"Charles," you say, your voice soft but insistent. "I want you to play the piano for me."

He looks up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he notices you standing there. His eyes take in your outfit, lingering on the way the simple summer dress hugged your curves. For a moment, he looked impressed, even a bit captivated, but then his expression shifted, a mixture of regret due to his duties.

"I've got so much work to do, mon amour," he stated, glancing back at his laptop, the weight of his responsibilities evident in his voice. "I really can't take a break right now."

You step closer, your fingers lightly grazing his arm, drawing his attention back to you. "Just one song," you coax, your tone leaving little room for refusal. "For me?"

He sighed, conflicted, but the look in your eyes and the subtle allure of your outfit began to sway him. With a reluctant nod, he closed the laptop and stood, following you to the living room. His piano stood majestically in the center, a reminder of the times when music flowed freely between you, of the mornings he woke you with melodies he created.

He sat on the bench, leaving enough room for you beside him, glancing up at you with a dimpled smile. However, you don't sit beside him as he expected. Instead, you climb on top of the piano, facing him with your legs dangling just above the keys. He raised his eyebrows in question but you only smiled in return.

"Play something beautiful," you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Charles started to play, his fingers dancing across the keys with practiced ease. The melody was filled with the kind of emotion that only he could bring to life. As the music fills the room, you shifted slightly, spreading your legs just enough to give him a glimpse of your bare skin beneath your dress.

His fingers faltered, and he stops playing abruptly, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab your legs. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and desire.

You pull your legs back, out of his grasp and lean forward, your expression turning serious. "I waited for you for days," you spoke, your voice edged with frustration. "You never came, you were always too busy. So now your punishment is that you don't get me, even if I'm right in front of you."

He looks up at you, the realization of your words sinking in. There's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, mingling with the desire and frustration. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his hands falling back to his sides. "I didn't realize—"

"You didn't," you cut him off, your tone firm. "But now you do. So if you want me, you have to earn it. Play the song, baby, without mistakes."

Charles took a deep breath, his fingers returning to the keys. The music starts again, this time with a new intensity, a determination to meet your challenge. You sit back casually, spreading your legs just enough to reveal that you're not wearing anything underneath your dress.

He catches a glimpse and his fingers falter, a note going sour as he looks up at you, eyes wide with surprise and a flash of desire. His hands momentarily freeze over the keys.

"Focus, Charles," you say, lifting your hips up to scrunch the dress up to your waist, giving him a full view bare legs. His gaze shifts from being locked onto your eyes down to your exposed pussy as you spread your legs again. "No mistakes."

He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbles under his breath, "I want to touch you."

You shake your head slowly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "Earn it then," you murmur.

His fingers moved gracefully to press the keys but you could see the tension in his posture based on the way his eyes kept flicking up to you, struggling to stay on task.

The melody continues, though it's punctuated by occasional hesitation as he tries to concentrate. You decide to up the ante. You bring your fingers up to your mouth, wetting them with your tongue before slowly trailing your hand down to your clit, teasing it lightly. You moan softly, the sound mingling with the music, causing his fingers to falter momentarily. His eyes widen, darkening with desire, but he forces himself to keep playing, his jaw clenched with the effort.

You watch him intently, your movements becoming more deliberate. Your fingers slide down, dipping into your wetness, smearing it over your pussy before inserting two inside. You began to slowly thrust them in and out, your back arching slightly with the pleasure. The sight of you, combined with the sensual sounds you made, is almost too much for him.

Charles' eyes keep flicking back to you, his focus slipping more with every passing second. You can see the raw desire in his gaze, the way he watches your every move, almost hypnotized. He struggles to maintain the melody, but you can tell he's on the brink of losing control.

"Keep playing, baby," you whisper, your voice sultry and commanding. "No mistakes."

His playing grows more erratic, his fingers dancing across the keys dangerously yet he still manages to press every note correctly. You moan louder as you thrust your fingers deeper, and when you lock your eyes with him, your expression is one of pure seduction.

"Do you like watching me, Charles?" you purr, your voice thick with arousal. "Does it make you want me even more?"

He nods almost imperceptibly, his eyes never leaving you. You can see the struggle in his expression, the way he's fighting to keep playing despite the overwhelming distraction.

"Good," you continue, your fingers moving faster. "Because that's all you're gonna get until you finish the song perfectly."

His breathing becomes ragged, his fingers slipping more frequently on the keys but he manages to catch himself before making a mistake. He knows he can't afford to start over; his patience wearing thin, and his cock is straining almost painfully against his pants.

Determined, he pours every ounce of focus into the final notes, his eyes flicking between the keys and your fingers moving rhythmically. The tension in the room is electric, your moans growing louder, each one pushing him closer to the edge of his control.

As he nears the end of the piece, you can feel your orgasm building, your body trembling with anticipation. The last few notes ring out, perfectly played, just as your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you gasping and shuddering in pleasure.

As soon as his fingers left the piano keys, he wrapped one hand around your wrist, bringing your cum-coated fingers to his lips. He licks them clean, his gaze locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. He moans at your distinct taste, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine since you knew the skill he had with his tongue.

"You have no idea how much I missed this," he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Without waiting for a response, Charles lowered his head between your spread legs, his mouth finding your clit with unerring precision. His tongue worked expertly, flicking and swirling, as his fingers entered your wetness, thrusting in time with the rhythm he set.

The pleasure built rapidly, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "Charles," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathless gasps and soft cries of pleasure.

His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open and at his mercy as he drove you relentlessly towards another orgasm.

"I want to feel you cum on my fingers," he mumbled against your sensitive clit, the vibrations of his voice sending you spiralling closer to the edge.

You could feel the tension coiling in your core, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure built higher and higher. "Charles, 'm so close," you panted, your voice breaking with need.

He intensified his efforts, his tongue and fingers moving with a coordinated accuracy that only heightened your pleasure. With a final, desperate cry, you shattered as your orgasm crashed over you in powerful waves.

Before you could catch your breath, Charles scooped you up, his strength lifting you effortlessly from the piano. He threw you over his shoulder, carrying you towards the bedroom with a determined stride.

"Charles!" you exclaimed when his palm landed on your ass, a mix of surprise and arousal in your voice.

He smirked, giving you another playful smack. "You think you can tease me like that and not face the consequences?" he asked, his voice low and dripping with desire. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, much less punish me for not giving you enough attention."

The anticipation and excitement made your heart race as he carried you into the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, his eyes dark with need as he quickly shed his clothes, revealing his hard, muscled body. He moved with purpose, his hands and mouth exploring your body with a renewed fervour once he stripped your dress off.

"You've had my attention all along," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot as he trailed kisses down your neck. "But today, mon bébé, you have all of me."

His words sent a shiver through your body, down to your pussy, clenching around nothing but air. He positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours, his cock hard and leaking precum. With a deep, intense kiss on your lips, he entered you slowly, making sure you felt every inch. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy.

He set a demanding pace, each thrust powerful and deliberate. His hands gripped onto your hips, holding you in place while the intensity of his movements left you breathless.

"I missed this so much," he panted, his eyes never leaving yours. "I missed you."

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you met his rhythm, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. "Charles," you moaned, your voice breaking with pleasure. "Don't stop."

He didn't. He continued to thrust into you with a relentless passion, his hands roaming your body, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, each moan and gasp driving you both closer to the edge.

"I'm going to make you cum again," he promised, his voice thick with desire. "And again. Until you can't take any more."

His words, combined with the intensity of his thrusts, pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. Charles didn't slow down; he continued to drive into you, prolonging your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When you thought you couldn't take any more, he shifted, changing the angle slightly, and began to move with even greater urgency. The sensation was too much, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. Another orgasm built quickly, your cries of pleasure filling the room as he brought you to the peak again.

He didn't stop until you were both completely spent, your body trembling and boneless beneath him. Only then, did he slow down, his movements becoming gentle, almost tender as he brought you down from the heights of your pleasure.

Finally, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as his cum leaked out of your pussy. You both laid there, panting and content, the warmth of his body comforting against yours.

After a few moments of blissful silence, you looked at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "I guess the punishment worked, huh?" you teased, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Charles chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "It did, but do something like that again and I just might have to punish you."

Intrigued, you raised your eyebrows and straddled him. "Oh yeah? What would you do?"

"For one..." he trailed off, dragging his fingertips down your body. "I won't let you cum for days," he stated as his fingers made contact with your dripping pussy, making you twitch due to sensitivity.

"Might keep you on edge, touch you, and just when you feel like I'll let you cum, I'll rip it away," he added, his gaze focusing on his fingers pressing into you, pushing his cum back into your pussy.

You rolled your eyes at the sensation and his words, resting your head against his shoulder. "I don't know if I want you to do that or not," you mumbled truthfully. The idea was enticing, but knowing Charles, he would tease you until you lost your mind.

You could feel him chuckle underneath you. "It's entirely up to you."

Placing his fingers underneath your chin, he tilted your face towards him. "Behave, and it won't happen. Act out, and I swear, this was the last orgasm you'll experience for a long, long time."

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[moonstruckme]

request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other

Thanks for requesting!

cw: hospital, mention of surgery

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words

Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 

It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 

“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 

“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 

“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 

“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.

She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 

“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 

You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”

You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 

Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 

“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 

Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 

Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 

“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 

“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 

“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 

“I am,” he says. 

“But you’re so handsome.”

Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 

You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 

Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 

Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 

You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 

“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 

“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 

Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 

“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 

“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 

Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 

“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[somejazzinthemorning]

snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

[kingkat12]

art on art (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), drug mentions, nasty fluff tihi

summary: why hasn't Eric reached out after leaving rehab yet, and how long does it take for marker ink to fade?

word count: 5,272 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part 3 of my Eric Draven fanfic draw you! thanks again for the overwhelming support of this series, and enjoy!!<333

(not my gif!! if it's yours, pls reach out and i will tag u<3)

Some broken part of me never expected to see Eric again. I knew that the previous men in my life would leave the second they got what they wanted out of me, so why should I hope for this one to be different?

I had been out of rehab for exactly two weeks now, and I knew this meant that Eric was out as well. He had my address, he had my number, and he weirdly enough also had my email address... yet I hadn't heard anything from him. Not a single thing. I wasn't quite sure why my heart was breaking at the realization I had been thrown away again-- I should be used to this.

In actuality, I knew exactly why my hopes were up.

The last time I saw Eric, had been right before I was about to leave rehab. We were standing in my room, the guards no longer watching me as I was technically excused and only there to get my stuff. I was packing everything into a big cardboard box, unable to meet Eric's green eyes as he sat on my bed-- he just looked so damn sad, I couldn't bring myself to watch. 

At the same time, I couldn't believe that he was upset about me leaving; no one had ever cared for me like that before. "Why do you look like that?" I eventually asked, stuffing his drawings into a book so that they wouldn't get ruined during the move. 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to shoot a puppy,"

Eric snorted, a slight smile finally forming across his lips. "Just thinking about how shit these next days are going to be without you here,"

I dared to gaze at him, watching his chest rise and fall in a long sigh. Even while doing the simplest act of sitting, Eric looked downright gorgeous. His dark hair had grown even longer during the time we had known each other, which allowed slight curls to form along his forehead. Draped in pink, tattoos peeking up from the collar of his jumper, green eyes soft with feelings-- the sight was almost enough to make my breath hitch.

"Oh, you won't notice I'm gone," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood at the same time as I tried to be discreet about shoving my underwear down into the box. "Time will fly by, don't you worry."

Eric shifted, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He stopped me from picking up the next batch of my stuff, leading my hands into his as his rounded eyes sunk into mine. "You're saying that as though I won't miss you,"

I held my breath, unsure what to say. 

Eric noticed my hesitance, squeezing my hands; "I will miss you. Do you understand that?"

Oh, I most certainly did not understand that. Not at all. But it didn't stop my heart from swelling, beating harder than it probably ever had before. It also didn't get any better when Eric led me between his legs, letting go of my hands so that he could put his against my waist. He looked up at me through his thick, long lashes, clearly trying to make me understand the longing lingering in his body. "Will you miss me?"

There was no question in my mind that I would. I'd miss him every second of every day, as I already did. However, I wasn't sure whether it was smart to tell him this, or whether that would make him lose interest like my previous flings. But weirdly enough, something told me I could trust this guy-- or was that just his pretty face doing the talking? "I will," I said, taking his face into my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks in a newfound sense of affection.

Eric's previously glossy look suddenly became a hopeful one-- he pulled me even closer, my hands going up into his hair as he buried his face against the crook of my neck. 

There was something so sincere about him, that I couldn't help but smile. Even now, as I remembered it. Was I stupid to imagine that it had all been real? That he hadn't acted like he would miss me just out of pity?

This was definitely my insecurity talking. I needed to get it all out of my head-- which is exactly why I ended up going out tonight, my friends by my side as we made our way into our usual spot at the club downtown. Being back in the darkness of this place, music blasting through my ears, brought a lot of memories back; specifically the dark ones. 

However, I wasn't drinking. I wasn't taking anything, and I wasn't planning on doing so. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining a scenario where Eric would finally reach out and find me relapsed... and that was certainly not ideal. Then he'd definitely not want to be with me.

Maybe I just needed to forget about him?

And so I began trying-- it didn't take long before I sat down next to some guy trying to tell me about his life story. I had never been this disinterested in my life, allowing him to put his arm around me as I stared up at the light-show on display across the roof, lost in thought.

I wondered where Eric was. What he was doing, who he was with, where he was. Whether he thought about me at all. It quickly hit me that being sober at a club took away all the fun, and with alcohol floating around right before my eyes, I wondered whether I should bother staying sober or not. I didn't exactly have anyone to stay clean for, as I thought I would. 

And just as I was about to ask the guy next to me whether I could have the tiniest sip of his beer, I spotted a familiar tall frame across the room. I blinked several times, straightening up in my seat as though I was a woman possessed. I was sure it was him-- I immediately knew the second I saw the tattooed poem on his back peeking through the top of his shirt.

As though I had heard a gunshot, I got up from the couch, my whole body tingling with unexpected excitement. This was an adrenaline surge unlike anything drugs could give me, and it only grew stronger as Eric seemed to be leaving. 

Panicked, I sped up into a light jog despite being in heels, making my way through the crowd on the dancefloor. It didn't take long before I caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

Eric had a bewildered look about him as he frantically searched who it could be that had held him back from leaving. When his big, green eyes finally landed on me, they widened as he broke out into a look of relief. "There you are!" he exclaimed, his large hands grabbing my shoulders. "I've been looking for you all over!--"

I was sure I would've started crying if I hadn't reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to my level to press my lips against his in the neediest kiss I had probably ever shared. I flung my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer, both of us letting out relieved sighs at our reunion. 

I wanted to stay like this forever, swimming in the bliss of being reunited with the man who had haunted my every waking thought. However, I couldn't let myself revel in the joy before I got the answer to my question; "You never called!" I said, my hands now at the sides of his face. "You never fucking called!"

Eric hummed, connecting our foreheads as he closed his eyes. "I did... just from a different number. You never answered, so I had to track you down all the way here,"

My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, my anger simmering down into a slow ache. The thought of Eric calling without getting a response made me feel worse than bad. "How?" was all I was able to say, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

Eric blushed a little before pulling away, and I was unsure whether the reason for my sudden dizziness was the loud music or his smile. God, he was gorgeous. "Our dealers are cousins," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist as we swayed on the dance floor. "And your guy told me I could find you here."

"I see," The loving look in Eric's eyes nearly made me melt— it was clear that he had missed me as well. But my questions kept coming to me; "Why did you get a different number? Is everything alright?"

With that, Eric's smile faltered just a little. His grip around my waist tightened as he brought one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. "I... suppose there's a lot I have to tell you, now that I've come all this way,"

I could sense that this was serious— I had seen enough of those guilty eyes for one lifetime. "I see," I repeated, pulling him in for another kiss, reveling in the feeling of tasting him again. There was nothing I had missed more about rehab than this. "Let's talk it out somewhere else, then?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It wasn't every day that I brought back men from the club— my policy was no men at my place at all, just in case I encountered a serial killer in disguise. But this thing with Eric was different; he could've moved in for all I cared. He could also proceed to burn it all down, rip me apart with his bare hands, and I'd let him.

However, the difference between Eric and the other men in my life was that I knew, deep down in my heart, that he would never hurt me; which is why I let him into my apartment.

I watched as Eric took a look around, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he whistled; "Quite the place,"

Shrugging, I made my way towards him as he towered over everything in my living room. "Sure is,"

Eric turned to me, a raised brow on display. "You're telling me you're loaded?"

I felt a bit embarrassed— I knew that once Eric found out the truth, he'd think of me just as all the other ones did. The spoiled girl who had nothing else to do but turn to drugs to get a high out of life. I couldn't help but grow nervous, unsure how to explain the truth to him; "Well... It's my parents' money,"

Eric nodded to himself, stepping towards me. "Are they around much? I didn't see them visiting you in rehab,"

The truth stung. "They don't want to look their biggest disappointment in the eye," I mumbled, my gaze falling to my feet. "But they make sure I'm still alive, I suppose. So it's not that bad."

There was a silence before I suddenly felt Eric's long, slender fingers beneath my chin, tilting me up so that I could meet his gaze. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't this; compassion. "Their loss," he said, the emerald green of his eyes engulfing my being with unexpected kindness. "At least you got a great apartment out of it."

I let out a warm laugh, now keening against the palm of his hand as he placed it to my cheek. "I've missed you,"

As Eric smiled down at me, it was obvious that his heart fluttered at the sight of me. I had never thought someone would ever look at me like that. "I've missed you too," he breathed. "Thought about you during every waking moment of every day. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you."

I could barely believe this was real— didn't stuff like this only happen in movies? "If only I had known you called," I mumbled, placing my hand on top of his. "Being without you was just hell... What happened?"

Eric inhaled a sharp breath, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you, but... I'm afraid you'll run,"

In a flash of desperation, I placed his hand against my heart. "I have nowhere else to run but to you,"

Eric's green eyes rounded out, his lips parting in confusion— was I maybe not the only one stunned by the confessions of complete and utter love tonight? "I— Fuck," 

With that, Eric's strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me towards him as our lips came together in a hungry kiss. The sheer force of it, along with the element of surprise, nearly had me stumbling a few steps back. But Eric only followed; I nearly moaned out as I felt his tongue against mine, my hands flying up into his dark locks and pulling him closer. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anything in the world, including drugs— all my swarming feelings of never-dying love had me pushing away all my needs for an answer from him regarding his phone, and I let my back hit the surface of the couch as Eric hovered above me.

"Missed you," he breathed in between kisses, a slight growl to his voice. Something told me Eric was trying to melt himself into me to make sure we would never be apart again— it only made my need for him stronger. I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his tall figure as I attempted to pull him even closer than he already was. 

Fuck, his lips were so soft. Deadly soft. The way Eric was nipping at my lower lip, occasionally sinking his teeth into it to draw out a whimper, was making a familiar knot form in my lower abdomen. I barely registered that my dress was gone before I watched him discard his shirt somewhere on the floor— now that we finally had time, I let my fingers run over his tattoos, smiling into the next kiss as I realized we would finally have that messy morning I was promised. I couldn't wait to lie in his arms, tracing every piece of art on his skin, taking it all in— this was heaven. Everything about finally being alone with Eric was heaven. 

"Missed you too," I eventually managed to moan out, feeling him grow hard against the apex of my thighs. "I don't ever want to be without you again." My breath hitched as Eric left wet kisses down jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach, knowing exactly where he was heading. I drew my hand towards my mouth, gently biting down to suppress a rather girly squeal. 

"You'll never be," Eric purred against my skin, sinking his teeth gently into my thigh to evoke a sound. "If you think we're ever going to be apart from now on, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours once more."

It was impossible not to smile, and I squirmed against the couch before Eric's big, strong hands grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he pressed a kiss against my clothed sex. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to avoid telling me what had happened in the moments we had been apart. Despite wanting to give in to the pleasure, let him tease me and keep me on the edge through the night, my mind wouldn't let me.

In the moment Eric threw my underwear to the floor, now kissing up my thighs and leaving me breathless, I propped myself up on my elbows; "Hold on," I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair in hopes of getting his attention. "Eric, wait--"

As he looked up at me through his brows, eyes wide with confusion as he paused for me, I didn't know whether I could go through with it. This moment was so damn precious, something I had been longing for ever since the moment I saw him; so why couldn't it wait? With a sigh, I laid back down. 

"You okay?" Eric asked, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my hipbone. "Wanna stop?"

That was definitely not it-- I let in a lazy breath, my eyelids drooping over my eyes as my body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my cunt. Everything about this situation was making my brain shut down. "No... I don't want to stop," My hands reached for his, and Eric let out a hum, his free hand now ghosting over my sex. "Just wondering whether you drew it or not."

"Drew what?"

"What we did in that stairwell,"

Eric's eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed, placing a wet kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You bet I did,"

"Will you show me?"

He hummed against my skin; "Later... I'm a little busy here, as you see," Eric hooked his arms around my legs, dragging me closer to him as I yelped. I could only laugh, the realization that I had finally gotten all I had ever wanted hitting me just as I felt the warm trickle of spit running down my cunt-- my hips bucked up in surprise, my breath escaping me. I was about to prop myself up on my elbows for a second time, hoping to get a look at what the fuck he was doing, but as he ran his tongue up between my folds with a ridiculously soft touch, I could only whimper.

The memory of Eric saying he would take his time with me when we were out of rehab suddenly dawned on me-- I was in for the long run.

It didn't take long before he had me writhing beneath him, a whimpering, panting mess. With every swirl of his tongue around my clit, every time he sucked in my aching bud between his plush lips, I held back the urge to buck my hips up against him. It got increasingly hard to keep still, especially when Eric pulled away to simply breathe down on my sex, knowing exactly where he had me. 

"Fuck," I cried, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair-- I did my best not to tighten my grip, fighting the urge to use his dark locks as handles. 

I could feel Eric smiling against me, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit; my breath immediately hitched, bucking up against his mouth in an attempt to beg for more. His fingers dug themselves into my thighs, driving my legs further apart as he made space for his broad shoulders. I whined at the loss of friction when he tilted his head to look up at me, and a shiver ran up my spine at the look of his face, slicked with my arousal. 

A mischievous smile spread across Eric's plush, glistening lips; "Someone's impatient,"

I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment, lolling my head back down against the couch-- looking at him only made it worse. "Can you blame me? You're doing this on purpose," 

Eric hummed, one hand leaving my thigh to lazily rub soft circles around my clit, using my slick as a lubricant. It only made me squirm, letting out a shaky moan as my back arched slightly off the couch. Even worse, was that I started to feel a small tremble appearing in my hands. "Can't handle a little teasing?" he said, biting his lip as he watched me attempt to suppress my noises. "You keep saying you've waited for me... What happened to your patience?"

I held back the urge to simply kick him-- but that thought immediately slipped out of my mind the second Eric flattened his tongue against me, licking a stripe all the way up to my swollen clit. It was impossible to suppress the hitch of my breath, and the tug I gave his hair in response was purely instinctual. It surprised me further to hear him enjoy it; I decided to keep that observation stored for later.

I had a feeling Eric knew my mind was buzzing, that he wouldn't be able to toy with me much longer. There might've been a few giveaways that I was at my wit's end-- all of which left me feeling like an even bigger mess than I already was beneath him. "I- I can't," I whined, my words leaving me as Eric sucked me in once more. "Wait, please!--"

He hummed against me, now pressing his lips against the crease of my thigh as a chuckle built in his throat. "Fine, fine," he said, playfully sinking his teeth into my skin, his green eyes watching my every move. "I suppose I'm dragging this out... I don't know why I'm feeling nervous."

Nervous? Eric didn't look very nervous to me. "It's just me, though?" I tried, attempting to catch my breath as I laid my hand on top of his. My next words came out shakier than anticipated, especially now that he was kissing way back up my body; "You don't need to be nervous."

Eric hummed, his large, tattooed hands kneading my chest, kissing along the hem of my bra. "It's just... When you left rehab," he started, his lips pressing along my collarbones. "I realized it took me days to recover after a dream with you in it."

The rush of joy surging through my veins reminded me of a hit of amphetamine-- it was all-taking, consuming, and I wanted nothing more than to press him so closely that we'd melt together. "Eric--"

"I've drawn you over and over," he breathed, kissing up my neck with a toe-curling softness. "In every way possible. Imagined the way you'd look at me after waking up in the morning, how it would feel to kiss your pretty little face good night..." Eric's lips hovered above mine, our shared breaths hot and shaky against one another as he continued; "I want you to burn into me like warm glass, mold into one. It sounds insane, but... how else can I ensure we stay together?"

My eyes were wide, finding his, as my hands reached up to cup his face. Like this, I finally had the time to admire the tattoo above his right brow, the deep scar on his cheek, and the tattoo above it. I stroked my thumb over the ink, holding back from connecting our lips just yet; "If you think I'm ever leaving you, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours" I breathed, watching his pupils dilate as I bit back a smug smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm all yours?" My fingers now ghosted over his lips, still wet with my slick, as an idea suddenly hit me. "Actually..."

Eric watched in confusion as I shifted beneath him, now reaching for the table right by the couch. There, I had left a marker which I had previously used to write a birthday card, and I took it into my hand before laying back down, looking up at the puzzled look on his face. "I'm not able to physically melt into you, but..." 

Eric's green eyes widened further, watching as I popped the cap and drew a tiny little heart on the peak of his shoulder.

I met his gaze, beaming up at him; "I can leave my mark,"

The most unexpected thing happened-- The sight of Eric welling up in tears was not something I had counted on when I let my impulses take the lead. For a second, I got genuinely worried I had overstepped all boundaries until he pinned my hand above my head and pressed a needy, passionate kiss against my lips.

I couldn't control the moan that escaped me, my hips bucking up against his, feeling his hard length grind down and brush up against my clit as our chests came together, pulling each other in as close as possible. The need I felt for Eric was undescribable, ravaging through my being-- I had never wanted anyone as bad as this. 

Mind dulled by anticipation and pleasure, I barely registered that he had managed to pry the marker from my fingers and pull it into his hand. Eric disconnected the kiss, pressing his wet lips against my cheek before propping himself up on his knees, scanning his canvas. "I'm definitely dreaming now," he whispered, mostly to himself, hovering above me as he drove the marker tip to the point where my ribs met on my chest. 

I could only smile, watching my favourite artist at work with admiration blossoming in my chest. Knowing I would be decorated with his work made me even more hot and bothered; I did my best to get a look at what he was drawing without disrupting his process. 

Eric drew a line down my chest, a few leaves scattered along it-- it dawned on me that he was drawing a rose. A beautiful, big rose, with that same scratchy style that I recognized from his previous creations. I watched him dart his tongue out, keeping it between his lips, focused; I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Art on art," he breathed, pulling away to drink in the sight of what he had drawn on my body. Eric's green eyes found mine, his shy smile returning to his plush, glistening lips. "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."

"So are you," I held back the urge to cry happy tears, my hands reaching out for him. "I love it, Eric. I'm scared of needles, so I won't be able to get this tattooed... Meaning you'll have to draw it over and over. Would you do that for me?"

Eric let out a choked laugh, eyes glossing over as he put the cap back on the marker, discarding it somewhere before returning to his place above me. "I'd do anything for you,"

I hadn't smiled so brightly in what felt like years. Like this, at this moment, I was sure this was it. He was it. 

Before I knew it, we were completely lost in the fiery kiss that ensued-- Eric's tongue against mine, hands lost around my waist as my fingers hooked into his dark locks, our chests heaving at one another. I was so gone, so dizzyingly aroused, that when I felt his thick cock pushing past my sopping entrance, I could only gasp. 

Eric let out a grunt, both of us moaning into the kiss at the immediate relief-- I could barely believe that this was real, that we were back as one. In a sense, this was the melting together that we had both craved so badly. 

My nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks in their wake as I let him push further into me. Eric buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a breathy groan against my skin when he finally moved. His cock stroked my walls the same way it had that one evening in the stairwell, the exact feeling I had chased as I buried my fingers deep inside of me every night since-- I had forgotten how the real deal had felt. How mind-numbingly good it felt to have Eric in me.

I whimpered as I felt his cock throb upwards, immediately hitting my sweet spot, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Knowing I bared his mark on my chest, knowing he had dreamed of this as well, only strengthened the electricity running all the way up to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know how I was supposed to last long at all, especially when I heard Eric moan out my name-- I shivered, pressing my lips against the heart I had drawn on his shoulder. 

I noticed a blush creep up his cheeks before he connected our lips once more, but it was hard to kiss properly when we were both in a heavy daze of pleasure-- we ended up mostly breathing against one another, Eric's green eyes watching as I let out a string of moans with every stroke of his cock. 

"You're everything," Eric rambled, nipping at my lower lip to suppress another grunt. "You're everything, you're-- Fuck!--" His hands dug into my hips, fucking me properly into the couch as he deepened his thrusts. 

My heart fluttered in my marked chest as I realized we were both looking down to watch our union-- the sight of Eric's cock pumping in and out of me, the wet sounds of our love filling the room, was almost enough to bring me over the edge. I also caught a glimpse of the petals drawn over my body, realizing I was admiring both the art and his body against mine. 

My back arched off the couch as Eric shifted, angling his thrusts upwards-- now, he was dead on pumping his cock against my sweet spot, which had me mewling out against his lips. "Eric, I-- I'm not gonna last, a-ah!--"

With glossy eyes, I watched a smirk spread across Eric's lips; "Let go if you need to," he cooed, his dark hair now kissing his forehead as he let out a laboured grunt. "We'll go again, baby-- hah, don't worry."

That was all I needed-- my heart fluttered, realizing we had all the time in the world to fuck all through the night. 

Forever, if we wanted to.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

This was nice. Stupidly nice. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment.

The softness of his fingers running up my bare shoulder, the kindness with which he bathed me-- I didn't even know this existed before now. I looked up at Eric, my head nuzzled against his broad, tattooed chest as we lay in post-coital bliss. I reached out to trace the heart I had marked him with, and I wondered what else I could draw on his beautiful body.

However, I knew I had to ask the question he hadn't been willing to answer yet. I had to look past how heavy his beautiful lashes looked in his drowsy state, and how badly I wanted to reach out and trace the upward slope of his nose, to ask what needed to be asked. "Eric?"

He hummed, glancing down at me. 

It was incredibly hard to take my eyes off his kiss-swollen lips. "You never told me,"

"Told you what?"

It felt as though we'd had this conversation about three times now; "You didn't tell me why you changed your number. Or why you waited to reach out. Or, better yet, why you didn't just show up here... I even gave you my address," I couldn't stop the imminent pout appearing across my lips-- I had forgotten how upset I was about this. "I waited for you. I nearly drove myself crazy thinking I'd imagined it all."

Sighing, Eric's gaze diverted to the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I will tell you everything. Just... could I have one more day?"

"What?" Something told me that his secret was a lot more damning than I initially thought-- why was he so reluctant to tell me? Did he think it would change how I felt?

"One more day," he echoed, his tattoed hand mindlessly traveling up into my hair as his eyes glossed over.  "Just give me one more day..."

I didn't know what to say, at a loss for words. Instead, I popped the cap to the marker in my hand, realizing I wouldn't be the one to deny him his one wish. Eric closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the marker against his skin once more; time was a gift I was willing to give him.

I was willing to give him absolutely anything he'd ever want-- I just hoped it wouldn't be the death of me.

(a/n: PART 1 and PART 2 linked here<33 thank you for reading!!)

[supershot73199]

Ok I'm back with another dcxdp overprotective Danny fic/prompt. No specific ship for this one.

Though Barbara is there this time.

Barbara couldn't help but smile as she looked at all the little kids in the library doing arts and crafts. She loved seeing all the kids different art projects though if she had to be honest she had a favorite little artist.

"Ms Barbara look look! I drew the Signal he looked so cool on his motorcycle!"

Speak of the devil, the little girl proudly running up to show of her art was named Dawn Nightingale a precious four year old who had mistaken Barbara for her Auntie Jazz the first time they met. (Not that Barbara blamed her she had seen a picture of the girls Aunt and they looked almost identical.)

"That looks wonderful why don't you go pin it to the art wall by the door so everyone can see it?" Barbara said as she looked at the surprisingly well done drawing.

As the four year old ran to do so with a cheer Barbara took a quick look over at the girls father, Danny Nightingale was a single father who from what conversations Barbara had with him had his daughter thrust upon him as a teen and was forced to leave home because of prejudiced parents. Despite this he was a natural father and was doing well to care for her even going so far as to be enrolled in engineering courses at Gotham U even while working full time to support his kid.

The single father was helping some of the younger kids while ignoring the single mothers trying to flirt with him with either practiced grace, or density befitting a black hole.

Before she could go to scare off the more persistent women (for Christs sake some of these women were over a decade older than him) there was a sudden bang as the doors to the library burst open revealed the Joker in all his pasty faced glory.

"Well well what fun! A group art project! It's a good thing I was in the area because now you kiddos get to help with Uncle Jokers art. C'mere brat."

Barbara had hit the panic button on her wheelchair the moment the Joker came through the door but she is not too proud to admit that she froze the moment he reached out and grabbed Dawn who had still been near the door hanging up her picture.

She could see the fear on the child she considered an honorary niece and found it hard to listen to what the demented clown was saying. Not that it mattered as before the Joker finished demanding the library patrons do what he said or else he was suddenly stepping back from the heavy blow that an enraged Danny had dealt.

The Joker having let go of Dawn, who ran to Barbara as soon as she was free, could not even seem to muster a defense as Danny beat him right out the door. Every weapon or gag he tried to pull out was either knocked aside or grabbed and used on him. The last thing Barbara saw before the door swung shut was Danny taking the flag gun the Joker tried to pull out and breaking it on the Jokers face.

With her arms now full of crying toddler Barbara did her best to comfort her and just as soon as she managed to calm her the door opening made her look up only to see Danny walking back in.

"Daddy!" The ballistic missile shaped like a toddler leapt into her fathers arms as he held her close.

"It's OK. It's all good. Daddy won't ever let anyone hurt you OK? There isn't anything in this world or the next that will keep me from you."

Barbara turned from the heartwarming display but only because she heard the door opening again thankfully this time it was Signal walking in Barbara figured he must have already secured the Joker since he didn't seem to be in a rush.

"Hey is everyone OK in here? Any injuries? No ok then I'm going to ask you all to stay in here and stay calm until the GCPD can take statements and get done scraping the Joker off the curb." The nervous undercurrent to Dukes voice should have clued Barbara that something was different but then that last statement hit her. Danny must have knocked the Joker out before coming back inside.

Speaking of Danny he was walking over with a Dawn who had fallen asleep in his arms after crying herself out.

"Hey I wanted to thank you for comforting Dawn. This situation was not something she should have been exposed to and I'm glad that she had someone trustworthy nearby to go to. And I am sorry buy I need to ask you one more favor... do you think you could watch Dawn until my sister gets off work if the cops detain me?"

Barbara couldn't help but double take at that.

"I don't mind but I doubt that will happen." She assured.

"Maybe but I did just stain the street with Jokers brain matter. So it's definitely a non zero chance."

Barbara couldn't help it, she was dumbfounded clearly she was mishearing.

"I'm sorry I must be hearing things, it sounded like you said you killed the Joker."

"Yeah I did. I won't let anyone hurt my family especially not that Steven King reject."

The next couple hours passed in a haze of reassuring parents and answering questions from the police for Barbara.

Thankfully Danny was not detained and was allowed to take Dawn home. Though he did ask Detective Bullock if he needed to be worried about and charges being pressed.

"Haha kid your more likely to get a medal or a holiday for this. Everyone has been hurt by that clown in some way.

Later when she was finally able to get the the clock tower she was unsurprised to find Jason waiting for her there. Clearly he had the same idea that she had, that is using her camera outside the library so that she could see what happened for closure.

The pair watched as this young man beat the Joker back at a different angle than when she saw it earlier that day. But shortly after the door shut she saw it happen so fast a trip over the step with Joker having the wind knocked out of him throwing a loose piece of concrete at the single father who caught it and the proceeded to bash the failed jester until he was unrecognizable.

Jason was the first to break the silence.

"I'm going to need a copy of that video and I suggest you make another one to give to Harley at your next girls night with the sirens."

"Deal but only if you get Alfred to help me cook him thank you meal."

[unlosts]

Honey, you're familiar

Summary: Hotch takes the day off, you plan to take full advantage of it.

A/N: MDNI!

A calloused hand softly caressing your cheek is what wakes you up instead of your alarm, or more accurately Aarons alarm. 

The solid weight of him pressed against your back, his other arm caging you against him. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumble, sleep still coating your voice while you tilt your head backwards to leave your neck bared to him, and thread your fingers through his sleep mussed hair. Very pleased at the small groan you manage to pull from him. 

“I have the day off, remember?” He says against the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from right behind your ear to the base of your neck, the feel of it sending shivers down your spine, entirely too early to feel like this. 

“I did remember -” a yawn cuts you off “I just didn’t really believe you when you told me”   

He pinches you softly in retaliation making you squeal and try to detangle yourself from sleep, an arduous task given that you’ve entangled yourselves to fully  usually go to bed on different sides of the bed only to wake up in the middle as an incomprehensible mess of limbs. 

“Okay, okay I'm sorry, now get back here”Aaron uses the momentary distraction to draw you back into his arms, moving on top of you and caging you between his thick forearms. 

“Good to know all that FBI training isn’t going to waste” 

“What, you think I do this with suspects?” He asks with an arched brow

“Well, I should hope not” You say between laughs with the kind of carefree full teeth smile that drives him crazy. 

Here cradled by the morning sun, he remembers the morning he met you, and how that feeling he thought had long died in that old house, began to appear again.  

“What?” You ask a little breathless, your calf rises to slightly nudge his hip and his hand leaves your forearm to grip your thigh. 

Suddenly the morning sun feels scorching on your skin, your breath deepens as he lowers himself down to kiss you,  the solid weight of him on top of you a heady feeling. 

Aaron’s lips are all consuming, in a morning like this one he’s trying to make up for every late night and missed date even when you’ve told him that he doesn’t have to. His hand angles your jaw to deepen the kiss and yours go up to pull at his hair, causing a groan that makes your cunt clench. 

When you first slept together you discovered the sort of sounds you could pull from him so unlike the quiet and stoic man you had come to know, that you became devoted to learning him. Focused as a scholar, learning exactly where to press, pull or kiss to elicit the sort of sounds that would drive you crazy. 

His hand slides from your thigh, fingertips slowly trailing up leaving only goosebumps in their wake, up to your stomach. 

You separate only for a second as he leaves a trail of wet kisses up to your neck to suck a bruise there, making you hiss and pull at the hair in the nape of his neck once more. 

“You better not have left a fucking hickey Hotchner” you say between heaving breaths, but his only reply is a teasing grin against your neck. 

Aarons fingers play with the band of your sleep shorts while he goes back to kiss you unhurried even in the face of your growing desperation; his fingers run tauntingly back and forth, occasionally slipping a finger in to tug at the band of your underwear only to pull back out. 

They finally slip in to press against the patch of wetness forming in your underwear. You suck in a sharp breath when he touches your clit through your panties, rubbing more intently as you pull away from him to let out a weak moan.

“Aar” you gasp, breaking the kiss for a second, leaving his lips to chase after yours, kissing the corner of your mouth softly while you grind against his fingers. 

“I know” He says, his gravelly voice reverberating through your body “just relax honey, let me take care of you” 

He leans closer to you, braced on his forearm. Like this almost nose to nose he just watches you pant for a moment. Taking in this one sliver of time where his entire world is narrowed down to this bed. While holding your gaze he moves aside your underwear and finally runs his pointer finger against your cunt, collecting your wetness before going back to rub your clit. 

He swallows your moan with a hungry kiss, his calm facade abandoned when two of his fingers enter your cunt and feel your walls clench around them, the thickness of them still makes you dizzy even after so many times together. 

“Fuck” you moan, your foreheads pressed together when his fingers expertly twist to press against a spot that makes you feel like you’re on fire, his thumb going back to rubbing circles against your clit. 

“Yeah?” He asks, your hips bucking against his fingers, seeking even more closeness. 

your hands going to squeeze your breasts over your (his) sleep shirt.

He stares at your hands and you know exactly what he wants then, there’s no time to pull away and take off your shirt so you pull it up to expose your breasts to the cool morning air, Aarons lips immediately going to one, sucking softly while you arch into his mouth.

Whatever there was before in your veins replaced with something molten hot, every single part of you feels like it’s on fire. 

“Yeah”  You nod, unable to think of everything else, brain pleasantly emptied of any coherent thoughts. Your hands leave your shirt to caress his back, the nape of his neck, everything you can reach, you just want him as close as possible. 

He alternates between both breasts, sucking one pebbled nipple into his mouth only to let go and switch to the other, not before nipping at the side of your breast. 

After that your orgasm comes quick and loud, you don’t see it coming really, you only feel Aaron rub your clit sharply one last time before you feel it crest through you, leaving you to crash against the sheets.  

“Aaron”   You moan loudly, uncaring of the neighbors. 

“That’s it” He murmurs, his fingers have stopped moving but his thumb still rubs your clit until you can’t take it anymore.   

Despite his fingers still being inside you, you want him near so you pull him to you, the ensuing kiss sloppy and uncoordinated. 

“I’m going to need you to take time off more often” You say, smiling against his lips. 

[fangswbenefits]

Backfire

Summary: The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Jealous and possessive Miguel. Edging. Thigh riding. Orgasm denial. Fingering. Creampie.

You should know better than to cross Miguel O’Hara.

It rarely went according to plan, and he’d always end up having the upper hand.

But that still didn’t deter you from trying to change the outcome.

With a dramatic sigh, you flopped onto the couch, swinging your legs over Miguel’s. He shot you a side-glace as the oversized shirt you were wearing, rode up your thighs, barely covering much.

Miguel didn’t mind that you would often steal his shirts, strolling around your shared apartment wearing nothing but one and just panties.

Today was one of those days.

He sprawled one large and warm hand on your knee, caressing it absentmindedly, as he flicked through his pad.

“That new recruit is interesting,” you started, inspecting your nails.

“What recruit?”

“The one from yesterday.”

Miguel’s fingers paused as they were about to trail up your thigh. “Interesting?”

“Cute.”

“Ah.”

You glanced ovet at him, expecting the beginnings of a frown to settle on his face.

Nothing.

The pads of his fingers resumed the light motion, and he kept his gaze fixed on the orange screen.

That was odd.

It usually didn’t take long to rile Miguel up with the threat of other men interacting with you. You absolutely adored teasing him with fake interest in them, knowing it would be enough to make his blood boil.

But it seemed like he wasn’t taking the bait this time.

You needed to up the intensity.

“Maybe I should show him around?”

His middle finger was drawing tiny circles on your skin, but he merely hummed in response.

“… or mentor him?”

He clicked his tongue. “You’d be a terrible mentor.”

You scowled. Deeply.

This wasn not going as planned…

Clearing your throat, you scooted closer to him, the motion causing the shirt to slide further up, now revealing your laced panties.

That caught his attention, crimson eyes darting to the side.

“Terrible mentor?” you huffed dramatically with a pout. “I think he would be better off with me than with Jessica.”

You exchanged looks, both knowing that was a ridiculous statement.

“You get too distracted,” he said, patting your thigh gently. “… and are too distracting,” he added, eyes landing on your panties.

Oh.

You smiled inwardly, tasting the sweetness of victory firing up your heart. Shoving his hand away, you shifted to straddle one of his thighs, lacing your arms behind his neck.

“He’s really attractive,” you teased once again, locking eyes with his.

Miguel set the pad aside and brought his fingers to grip your chin, staring intensely at you. “What are you doing?”

“Me? Nothing!” you feigned confusion, slightly dragging your panties across his sweatpants.

He clicked his tongue, placing the other hand on your hip and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re too obvious.”

The feel of fabric on fabric only added to the delicious friction on your clit, and you smiled deviously. His muscles underneath you flexed ever so slightly, providing more tension.

“Maybe I should meet him tomorrow dressed like this.”

It was faint, but you spotted something crossing his eyes, his lips pressed firmly into a fine line.

There you go, Miguel, you cheered.

He let go of your chin and had the talon on his index finger protrude, grazing the collar of his shirt, before sliding down slowly, popping each button effortlessly.

You kept grinding on his thigh, feeling a gush of wetness spill into your underwear, sipping through and damping him.

Once he was done slicing off every single button you whined, sticking out your lower lip. “That was my favourite shirt!”

“It’s my shirt.”

The sudden exposure was enough to harden your nipples, earning a glance from him, as your breasts bounced softly with each sway of your hips.

You leaned in to whisper into his ear. “I’m yours, too, yet you don’t seem to mind that I hang out with other men.”

The hand on you hip slid all the way to your lower abdomen, and his fingers started teasing the hem of your panties.

“Ah. So this is what you’re doing,” he said with a nod, flexing the muscles in contact with you, earning a low gasp from your parted lips.

“Took you long enough.”

“Didn’t take me long at all, cariño,” he whispered, dipping his fingers to meet your swollen clit. “You’re not that subtle.”

You had unlace your arms around his nack and place both hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.

“You’re riding my thigh while mentioning other men,” he continued, spreading your own wetness across your folds and clit. “You want to rile me up.”

You arched your back into his touch, slowly edging yourself. “Me?”

“You want to ride something else.”

Touché.

At this point, you were too entranced in his fingers to even bother denying it. You let one of your hands drop to his lap, feeling his impressive erection straining to be set free.

One finger teased your entrance and you bucked your hips, desperate for him to slide it in.

His cock twitched under your palm and you glanced down to see a growing wet spot right where his tip was.

He slid one finger first, and soon added a second one, and you let out a strained sigh of relief.

You squeezed hard on his shoulder, holding on for the intense wave of pleasure that was about to hit you the moment you began riding him.

His other free hand snaked in between you two, cupping on of hour breasts, before brushing his thumb across your nipple.

“You’re already close.”

It wasn’t a question.

Miguel knew your body like he knew the entire layout of Nueva York. Months of fucking you had gifted with with unmatched knowledge of what made you tick and yearn for more.

You kept a steady grip on both his cock abd shoulder, trying your best to ready yourself for the impending orgasm that kept drawing closer and closer as he grazed the heel of his hand against your clit.

He growled into your ear as you pressed your face against his, breath coming out in shallow pants.

You were so close.

Your hand pulled down the waistband of his pants, and half of his cock emerged, pressed firmly against his lower abdomen, leaking strings of precum.

The wet sounds that filled the room were borderline obscene, which only served to heighten your pleasure.

Desperate rolls of your hips met his hand and you moaned out his name when he slipped a third finger.

The familiar coils of an orgasm slowly consuming your entire body had you dropping your head on his shoulder, whimpering loudly, ready to welcome your sought after high.

But as quickly as it came, it was soon over.

Miguel immediately removed his fingers from inside your squeezing pussy at once and had you pushed down flat on your stomach against the couch in no time.

“What the fuck!” you growled, the side of your face pressed into the pillow with both hands pinned behind your back.

You felt his hot breath in your hear. “You really thought I’d let you cum after that little stunt you pulled?”

Despair rained down on you as your walls clenched around nothing. “Miguel… what the fuck! Put them back!”

He was much stronger and bigger than you, so he had effectively rendered you immobile rather easily.

“I will once you promise me one thing,” his breath fanned your skin, raising goosebumps along your entire body.

You’d do anything to have him back inside you in that moment.

Anything.

“What is it?”

He gave one asscheek an almost painful squeeze. “Promise me you’ll never fuck anyone else.”

Your clit pulsed rapidly against your drenched folds and you tried to set free from his grasp, but all to no avail.

“Miguel…”

He then clipped your panties off with one talon. His hand dipped between your legs and he pressed his thumb against your entrance, causing your hips to jerk in a desperate attempt at more friction.

“Promise me.”

You bit down on your lip, frustration consuming you whole, as tears began to sting your eyes.

“Prométeme,” he growled.

Your lips parted in a sudden gasp once he slipped two fingers slowly inside, causing you to immediately clamp down around him.

“Yes… yes!” you then growled, trying your best to ride his fingers once again and pumping in and out of you at a steady pace.

He kept his other hand gripping your wrists tightly against your back, making sure you were kept in place.

“Qué maravilla,” he said lowly, but you could detect faint sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Slowly but surely, eased his pressure on you, giving your hips enough freedom to have you jerk against him, your pussy eagerly squeezing his fingers.

He eventually let go of your wrists and you brought your hands to grip the fabric of the couch, moaning loudly with each thrust.

You were getting close to the edge once more, not bothering to sound coherent anymore.

The closer you got to your orgasm, the more you frantically rode him.

“I’m… I’m…” you gasped loudly, eyes fluttering shut.

Miguel pressed a kiss to your temple. “I know.”

And his fingers were gone.

The beginning of your orgasm slipped away from you as if you were trying to catch smole with bare hands.

This time, you flipped and were ready to pounce him, frustration overtaking all your senses.

But Miguel’s reflexes were sharp as ever and he immediately caught both your wrists, pinning your back against the couch.

“Fuck you!” you spat, lips quivering from anger. “I promised!”

He settled between your squirming legs, as he pinned both your arms over your head.

“You didn’t sound convincing enough,” he said simply, rubbing your pulse point with his thumbs.

“Fuck you!”

He chuckled. “I know you want to, but I need assurances, cariño.”

You glared at him furiously, wanting nothing more than to hurt him the way he was hurting you, tears still streaming down your face.

“I promise… I won’t fuck anyone else…”

His cock bounced freely from his pants and he positioned the tip covered in precum against your clit.

“And you won’t try to make me jealous again.”

You rose your hips, hoping it would cause his to align with your entrance instead.

“I won’t. Ever,” you sobbed sheepishly.

He then pushed inside you effortlessly, glaring down at where your bodies were connected, watching in marvel as your pussy swallowed all of him in no time.

You were too overstimulated at this point to keep playing the waiting game, so you promptly rolled your hips, and squeezed tightly around his cock.

“Frustration suits you,” he mocked with a growl, allowing you to bounce on his cock freely.

“Fuck off…” you groaned, bringing your hand down to rub your clit.

He quickly shoved it away, scowling. “You don’t want me to make you cum?”

“You’ve been edging me for too long… I need to…” your voice died down as he pressed your clit flat with the pad of his thumb.

You jerked involuntarily as he repeated the motion, climbing the steep height of pleasure, hoping you’d reach its peak this time.

“Cum first,” he growled, his own hips snapping to meet yours. “I need to feel you squeezing me.”

You hated how his command was what brought you iver the edge, the initial contractions of your orgasm breaking the motion of your hips, violently enveloping in an overwhelming and blinding surge of unmatched bliss.

Miguel kept rubbing your clit, earning stronger squeezes from you. “Keep going…”

Your back arched and you felt yourself sliding along his cock until he was all the way in. He let out a strangled grunt, and that let you know he had reached his peak, too.

He tried to set a broken rhythm as he came deep inside you, but your grip on his cock was too paralysing for him to move.

As clarity began to clean your dazed mind, you watched as Miguel squeezed his eyes shut and parted his lips to reveal his fangs, drowning in intense pleasure.

He nearly lost balance and fell on top of you, but steadied himself in time, still buried deep.

“I fucking hate you,” you groaned, trying to control your breathing.

He shuddered one last time, panting heavily, but still managing to put on a mocking smile. “You love hate fucking me.”

Masterlist

[teatreeoilll]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭 - (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • .

w/c - 1.3k content - MDNI! fem!reader, porn, Gojo fingering you in a bathroom after a concert, my intrusive thoughts about Gojo's hands won

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . °

You inhale the cloud of smoke lingering around you, mixed with the tinge of cheap beer and light strokes of cologne, "Here!" You yell at Utahime, pushing through the crowd of people already standing on the cigarette butt-littered grass, "That's a great spot - look how close we are!" You point to the stage, wheezing with excitement.

You shove your bag into her hands, "Guard this with your life," you order, to which Utahime chastises, "Off to the bathroom again? You should stop drinking now; once they start playing, there's not gonna be any bathroom breaks."

The line to the bathroom stretches out for what feels like miles, and by the time you get back to your spot, Utahime's busy chatting up a couple of men.

"Not wasting any time, are you?"

"Oh god no," Utahime retorts, "That's Geto Suguru, we take Professor Yaga's class together," she smiles, pointing to the dark-haired man standing before her, "and that's," her lips twitch, the smile leaving the corners of her eyes, "Gojo Satoru."

The crowd erupts into applause, and the men turn their attention to the stage. Under your breath you mutter a quiet fuck; Before you stands not a man, but a 6'3 colossal giant, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose like the sky hadn't grown dark half an hour ago. The stage lights up, and the band appears - or at least you thought that's what happened since now, you couldn't see shit.

Your turn to Utahime, who shares the same concerned look as you, standing on her toes but somehow managing to see over Geto's shoulders. You point your thumb at Gojo, mouthing, "I can't see."

"Hey, beanpole!" Utahime shouts over the band's introductions, "Switch with her!"

Gojo leans back, smirking at her, "Utahime," he reprimands like he's trying to teach his dog not to chew on the carpet, "that's not a nice way to ask."

Utahime's face flushes red, fists clenching as she tries to shout at the unbothered man over the noise. You place a calming hand on her shoulder, giving her a resolute nod; I'll handle this.

You stare at the broad back in front of you, eyes fixed straight at his shoulder blades as you tap an impatient index finger on them, "Excuse me," you say, a coy smile plastered on your lips, "Would you mind switching places with me?"

He does another half-turn, catching a glimpse of Utahime's menacing gaze as he does so, "What did you say?" He lowers his sunglasses, light blue eyes piercing through you, "Can't hear you!" He motions to his ear.

You take a deep breath, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to draw closer to his face, "Switch places with me!"

"Ditch this place with you?" Gojo furrows his brows, looking at you with sarcastic sympathy as you steady yourself by grabbing his shoulder, "We've only just met~"

"No!" You yelled, "Switch - places!" Barely any air left in your lungs as you become aware of how firm his shoulders felt under your fingertips.

"Sweet embraces?" He tries to retain his expression at the tickle your breath sent huffing down his neck, "Listen, it's not personal, but usually I get invited to dinner first."

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" You let out a sigh, your raspy voice lowering its tone; what a prick.

He inches towards you, heat rising to your face when he halts a breath away from your lips, "Later, hopefully."

-

"F-Fuck - In here?" You break away from Gojo's lips for a moment, glancing at the entrance to the men's bathroom.

"Isn't that why they put bathrooms here?" He chuckles, one arm running up from your waist to grab the nape of your neck, grazing his lips softly over yours before biting down on your lower lip, listening to you hum in agreement as his tongue dips into your mouth.

His hand travels up your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt as he puts a large palm to squeeze on your ass, the groan leaving his lips vibrating through your mouth. Gojo presses you against the door, one large arm pushing it in to open the stall, and you stumble back onto the (thankfully) closed toilet seat.

“Getting comfortable, princess?” He smirks, large hands leaning on the wall behind you, trapping you under his body as it looms over you, enjoying the sight of your flushed face, “Switch places?” He suggests.

“I’m sorry,” you motion to your ear, a devilish grin forming on your lips, “I can’t hear you.”

“Funny,” he snarls, pale, veiny arms leaving the wall as he gets on his knees before you to push your legs apart, letting his long fingers graze your inner thighs, his breath hitching every time he elicits a slight twitch from your legs, “Let’s see how funny you’ll be in a minute.”

Two thick fingers push your panties to the side before slipping into your already soaked cunt, the lewd noises and deep grunts dazzling your mind as you watch his pale blue eyes rest on your face, his breaths getting heavier the more muffled whimpers escape your mouth.

“Fuuuck,” he drawls, fingers still pumping into you as he leans into your cunt, tongue licking a teasing stripe over your clit, "Taste so good, princess," his head grows dizzy at the taste while he rubs his other hand over the bulge in his jeans.

“Ah - mhm -“ you can barely stop the breathy moans, your hand shooting out to grab onto white strands of hair, prompting him to slowly lick up your pussy once more, “God - fuck,” his fingers curl upwards inside you, hitting the spot that made you buck your hips against his head.

“Not so funny now, huh princess?” He felt the grip on his hair tighten, needy palm desperately rubbing over his clothed cock, glazed eyes fixed on your twitching pussy, "You close, baby?" And you only let out a breathless pant at his words, coil tightening in your stomach.

"Can't hear you~" He cooed, fingers leaving your wetness to brush over your clit, and you gasp at the sudden emptiness forming in your needy hole - "G-Gojo -" you beg, voice cracking when you grab his forearm to guide it back into your folds, "Fuck -" you mutter when his arm refuses to budge.

"Satoru," he corrects, "ask nicely, princess," he says, hands traveling down to unzip his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his jeans, tip already red and leaking as he works his length up and down to the sound of your pleading, "Please - 'Toru -" you pull on his arm again, "Plea-"

He wished he could tease you for longer, but the way you writhed under his touch and rasped his name was rapidly driving him over the edge. His fingers glide back inside, "Shit -" he grunts at the feeling of your walls enveloping his thick digits, pulsating against them as he pumps them over and over into your sweet spot, "Keep saying my name, princess," he orders, chest heaving as he tightens his fist around his cock.

"'Toru -" your body jolts at his pace, his thumb skimming over your clit, "Toru - ah - " you moan, back arching and tears pooling at the corners of your eyes as you tug harshly on his hair, shockwaves coursing through your body. With glazed eyes, you watch him pull out his fingers, eagerly putting them into his mouth as he spills his load on the tiles beneath him with a hoarse moan.

"Good girl," the words fall out of his lips, and he watches your cunt twitch at the phrase, "How about I give you a ride home, huh?"

-

"Didn't know you wear such dainty underwear, Satoru," Geto remarks, pulling your panties out from beneath the passenger seat, inspecting them as he sips his morning coffee.

"Well, you never asked." Gojo chuckles.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

MC: *wearing a face mask* Let's get down to business so I can leave this place early.

Belphegor: ...

Belphegor: *smiles* You're straightforward.

MC: Nah, I doubt you'd be interested in making a conversation at all.

Belphegor: *still smiling* Beleth, you take it from here.

Beleth: Okay, Your Majesty.

Beleth: *clears his throat* *unfurls a map of Niflheim in front of them*

Beleth: You see the red marks, descendant of Solomon?

MC: Yes.

Beleth: Angels are swarming these places.

MC: Ah, so you want me to do some pest control?

Beleth and Belphegor: ...

Belphegor: *chuckles*

MC: *sigh* You devils won't give me a break. *grabs the map and heads straight to the door*

Beleth: Wait! Wouldn't you need an escort?

MC: ...

MC: *looks at the other devils present: Gusion, Bathin, and Harumon*

MC: ...

MC: I'll take the coward cat.

Harumon: Hey! I'm no coward!

MC: ...

MC: Is that a young devil?

Harumon: Young devil? Where?

MC: He's hiding behind that rubble.

Harumon: But descendant of Solomon! No one's living in this place now!

MC: *yells* Oi, kid! What are you doing there?

MC: ...

Harumon: ...

MC: *clicks their tongue* He's shy. *approaches the 'young devil'*

MC: Hey, why are you hiding?

Harumon: ...

Harumon: Who are they talking to?

MC: Huh. What's his name?

MC: Oi, Harumon. Do you know someone called 'Andrealphus'?

Harumon: Yes! He's one of us!

MC: *points* This boy's saying he's his twin.

Harumon: !!!

MC: So you're telling me that I possibly met a ghost.

Beleth: Yes, it could be. You're the only one who can see him.

Bathin: Can you draw what he looks like? We need to confirm if it's the twin of Andrealphus.

MC: What a bother. Someone give me a notepad.

*after a few minutes*

MC: Does that confirm it?

Beleth: Yep, no doubt.

MC: ...

MC: Great. So I can see ghosts now.

MC: ?

Beleth: What is it, descendant of Solomon?

MC: *unamused* He's sitting on my lap.

Gabriel: How could you insult god like this?!

Raphael: It's the truth, Gabriel. God has returned.

Michael: ...

Michael: How were you able to tell?

Raphael: I tasted their blood. There's no way I'm mistaken.

Michael: ...

Gabriel: *fuming in anger*

Michael: In that case, why didn't you bring them?

Raphael: They are worried that none of you would believe them.

Raphael: *his face turned serious*

Raphael: Now seeing your reactions, proves that they're right.

Gabriel: Should I just kill you right now, Raphael?

Michael: ...

Michael: Calm down, Gabriel.

Michael: This could be our lead. Regardless, Solomon definitely did something.

Gabriel and Raphael: ...

Michael: Aside from the information you've got, do you have anything else, Raphael?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *smiles* God has considered me their most beloved seraph.

Gabriel: *fumes in anger*

[pretzel-box]

—SCENARIO: Sebastian asks P.AI.nter to draw his spouse while delving in the memories of their sunkissed proposal.

Tags: Sebastian is agressive at the beginning, soft hours with p.ai.nter, fluff and comfort, Sebastian is married to gn!reader

words: 1,3k

“Like this?” P.AI.nter's voice broke the silence, and the image of a beautiful young person appeared on his screen. It was clear that P.AI.nter had put a lot of effort into the picture, every stroke and detail meticulously crafted. Sebastian, who was sitting across from his friend, lifted his gaze from the file in his hand to study the drawing. His eyes traced the lines and shapes before he shook his head, frustration bubbling up inside him.

“THIS LOOKS NOTHING LIKE THEM!”

Sebastian suddenly yelled, his voice echoing through the room. He threw the file he had been reading at P.AI.nter’s screen, the papers scattering across the floor. Gripping his head in both hands, he let out a groan of frustration. “It looks nothing like the person I married. Do it again. Paint them again, please.”

P.AI.nter’s screen shifted to display his familiar face, and he studied Sebastian carefully. The sea-serpent hybrid was visibly distressed, his normally composed demeanour unravelling more with each passing day. “Sebastian, maybe we should take a break,” P.AI.nter suggested gently.

“DO IT!” Sebastian snapped, his voice tinged with desperation.

P.AI.nter hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, his screen flickering as he began the task once more.

Over the last few days, P.AI.nter had witnessed Sebastian’s steady decline. The crushing weight of hopelessness had begun to take its toll, especially as progress on his escape plan stalled. The fear of never seeing you again had driven Sebastian to the edge, and now he was clinging to the only thing he could—the memory of you.

Sebastian could describe every detail of your face as if he had spent a lifetime memorizing it. The way your smile lit up when you spoke to him, the warmth in your eyes when he returned home, the tentative yet eager kiss you shared on your first date, and the breathtaking moment when he proposed to you at sunset, in your favorite place.

But no matter how vivid those memories were, the thought of forgetting you, of losing even a fragment of what he remembered, filled him with a terror that he could not shake.

As P.AI.nter worked on a new sketch, Sebastian leaned forward, his hands trembling slightly. His mind raced with thoughts of you, the love of his life, the one he was desperate to return to. He couldn't bear the idea of those memories fading, of your face becoming just another blur in his mind. The very thought made his heart ache in a way that nothing else down here ever could.

“Please, P.AI.nter,” Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now, raw and vulnerable. “Just… make sure I don’t forget them.”

P.AI.nter glanced at him again, the sympathy in his digital eyes clear. He understood what was driving Sebastian, the fear and the love intertwined in a way that made it impossible for him to let go. “I’ll do my best, Sebastian. I promise.”

Sebastian nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to hold onto the image of you in his mind as tightly as he could. The thought of seeing you again, of holding you, was the only thing that kept him going. And he would do anything—anything—to make sure that happened. Even if it meant forcing himself to relive every precious memory, over and over, until the day he could finally make new ones with you again.

His mind was elsewhere, trapped in memories of a life he longed to return to. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from P.AI.nter’s screen as he quietly observed his friend.

“Tell me about the proposal again,” P.AI.nter requested gently, breaking the silence. He knew that Sebastian found solace in recounting these memories, even if they were tinged with the pain of longing.

Sebastian took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the memory flooded back. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he began to speak. “It was a perfect evening. We had been together for a while, and I knew… I just knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them.”

P.AI.nter’s screen displayed a soft, encouraging expression as he listened and started to draw another sketch in the background, the digital companion understanding the importance of these memories for Sebastian.

“I chose their favorite spot—a secluded beach just outside the city we lived in. We used to go there all the time, just because they liked how the sun meets the water. The sun would set over the water, casting this incredible golden light everywhere. They loved it there.. We’d sit and watch the waves, talk about everything and nothing… It was our place,” Sebastian’s voice was soft, full of warmth as he spoke.

He paused for a moment, as if savoring the memory. “I remember that day so clearly. I was so nervous, even though I knew they’d say yes. I had the ring in my pocket, and I kept checking to make sure it was still there. My heart was pounding the entire time.”

P.AI.nter hummed in acknowledgment, his screen flickering slightly as he recorded every word, every detail. He knew how much this meant to Sebastian.

“We walked along the shore, just like we always did. I was waiting for the perfect moment, and then… then the sun began to set. The sky turned this beautiful shade of orange and pink, and the water looked like it was on fire. Their form got dived in a beautiful warm light, making their eyes shine so bright that it made me feel like I'm melting. That’s when I knew it was time.”

Sebastian’s smile widened, his eyes still closed as he relived the moment. “I stopped walking and turned to face them. They looked at me, their face in a cute little confusion t first, but then they saw the look on my face. I could see the realization in their beautiful eyes. I took their hands, and I told them how much they meant to me, how I couldn’t imagine a life without them, with words that couldn't even express a shard of the things I feel for them. And then… I got down on one knee.”

P.AI.nter’s screen now displayed a rough sketch of a beach, a couple standing in the golden light of the sunset. The image was simple, yet it captured the essence of the moment Sebastian was describing.

“I asked them to marry me, right there, with the waves crashing in the background and the sun setting behind us. Their eyes… They were filled with tears, but they were smiling, a genuine sweet one. And when they said yes, it was like the whole world just… clicked into place.”

Sebastian opened his eyes, and for a moment, it was as if he was back on that beach, holding your hands, hearing you say those words. His heart ached with longing, but the memory also brought him comfort.

“They hugged me so tightly, I could feel their heart beating against mine. We stayed there for a long time, just holding each other, watching the sun disappear below the horizon. It was the happiest moment of my life.”

P.AI.nter displayed the image of the sunset proposal on his screen, a small token to keep the memory alive in the dark depths of the Blackside. “It sounds beautiful, Sebastian.”

“It was,” Sebastian agreed, his voice softening. “It really was.”

P.AI.nter could see the emotion in Sebastian’s eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. “You’ll see them again, Sebastian. You’ll make it out of here, and you’ll have more moments like that.”

Sebastian nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or if he truly believed it. “I have to,” he whispered, more to himself than to P.AI.nter. “I have to see them again.”

P.AI.nter offered a comforting hum, the image of the sunset still glowing softly on his screen. “And when you do, you’ll have so many stories to tell them. They’ll be proud of how strong you’ve been.”

Sebastian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he allowed himself to get lost in the memory for a little longer.

[kvrokasaa]

The Morning After

Includes: Isagi, Otoya, Reo, Chigiri, and Rin

Cw: Suggestive, Reo's mentions reader's hair being kinda long, not proofread. 1.4k words

Yoichi wakes up to the soft glare of the sun filtering through the blinds. He blinks a few times, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. The events of last night come rushing back to him - the laughter, the touches, the connection. He turns his head slightly and sees you lying next to him, still peacefully asleep.

A soft, almost inaudible chuckle leaves his lips while he takes in the serenity of the scene. Your hair is sprawled out on the pillow, your arms clutching the poor thing for dear life.

Cute.

Carefully, Isagi slips out of bed, trying not to wake you. He stretches, feeling the pleasant soreness from last night's activities. He moves quietly, deciding to make coffee and prepare a simple breakfast. As he waits for the coffee, he glances back towards the bedroom, his thoughts drifting. Last night felt different than any other one-night stand. It felt special. There was a connection between you both. It makes him feel both excited and nervous about what could come next.

You stir awake at the smell of coffee - the aroma drawing you out of your slumber. You stretch and sit up, the blanket slipping down to your waist.

You notice Isagi in the kitchen - with no shirt on - making breakfast and coffee. You could almost drool at the sight. "Morning," you say softly, your voice a bit raspy from all the moaning and screaming from the night before.

Isagi turns his face lighting at the sight of you in his shirt and nothing else. "Good morning," he replies, his voice gentle. "I made some coffee. Want a cup?"

You nod and reach out to grab the cup filled with coffee. Isagi speaks as you put in your desired creams and sugars. "Last night was amazing," he started, "I'd love to see where this can go." And of course, you have no other answer than yes.

You wake up with a start, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. As the events from last night come rushing back, you feel a mix of exhilaration and anxiety. You turn your head to see Otoya still asleep beside you, his face relaxed and peaceful. For a moment, you just watch him, trying to sort through your tangled thoughts and feelings.

You've known Otoya since you were kids, but his reputation as a player makes your heart ache with uncertainty. Was last night just another fleeting moment for him? Does he have a girlfriend? The doubts gnaw at you, making it hard to breathe.

Carefully, you slip out of bed, trying not to wake him. You move quietly around the room, gathering your clothes and getting dressed as quickly and silently as possible. You hope to leave before he wakes up, to spare yourself any potential heartbreak.

Just as you reach the door, you hear a rustle behind you. You freeze, your heart pounding.

"Leaving so soon?" Otoya's voice is soft, but it startles you. You turn to see him standing behind you, his eyes half-open but focused on you. "I-I should go," you stammer, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off.

"I'm scared. You have a reputation and I don't want to get hurt. What if you have another girl? What if last night didn't mean anything to you?" You voice your thoughts. It's a drawl, you think. Either your friendship is ruined forever, or you let him break your heart in silence.

He steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "I've known you since childhood, you think I'd use you like that?" His voice is soft, filled with seriousness you rarely hear from him. You don't respond. You know that he wouldn't do that, don't you?

"Last night wasn't just some fling. It meant everything to me. You mean everything to me. I love you." That got you to look up at him.

"But you've never said anything." "I just realized," he answers honestly. "I know that you probably don't believe me." His hand comes up to cup your cheek, "Just give me some time. Let's figure this out together."

Reo woke up with a warm sensation spreading through his chest. He blinked sleepily, his gaze shifting to the figure beside him. You looked so peaceful, your hair cascading down over the pillow in gentle waves. A soft smile curved his lips against your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone. The touch was gentle, reverent almost, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

He felt a surge of affection, a deep longing that bordered on obsession. You stirred, a small sound escaping your lips, and he couldn't help but smile wider. Being this close to you, sharing these intimate moments, filled with a sense of contentment he hadn't known before.

Your bodies are entwined, fitting together like puzzle pieces. He traced patterns on your skin, each touch a silent declaration of his affection.

As you both exchanged whispered words and soft laughter, he couldn't help but marvel at the connection you both share. It's more than the physical attraction; it's a bond that transcends words, a silent understanding that you belong together.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the outside world exists. In this moment, all that matters is the warmth from your skin, the rhythm of your breaths syncing in perfect harmony.

Reo knows he's falling deeper, that this isn't just a fleeting attraction. You've become his everything, a beacon of light in his dull world. And as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, he couldn't help but feel grateful for every moment with you.

As the morning light filters through the curtains, Chigiri finds himself waking up next to you. The memories of last night flood back, filling him with a warm sense of contentment. He can't help but smile as he recalls how you finally confessed your feelings to him, through drunken words and moans.

Your peaceful sleeping face is a sight to behold, and he can't resist reaching out to gently brush a strand of your hair away. The way you sleepily smile makes his heart race with affection. It's moments like this that make him realize just how much he cares for you.

As he lies there, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy, he can't help but reflect on how far you've both come. From the first day you helped him with his leg injury to volunteering to monitor and do regular check-ups at Blue Lock, your bond has only grown stronger.

He knows this is just the beginning of something intimate between you two. With you by Chigiri's side, he feels like he can conquer anything. And as he watches you stir awake, a smile playing on your lips, he knows that he wouldn't want it any other way.

As the morning sun filters through the curtains, you find yourself waking up beside Rin. The soft warmth of his body against yours reminds you of the night before, where passion and tenderness intertwined in a dance only lovers could understand.

Rin stirs beside you, his eyes fluttering to meet yours. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions between you. Then, with a gentle smile, he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

"You're still here," he murmurs, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and relief.

You nod your head, not knowing if you should leave or not. "Yeah." Rin immediately notices your tone mixed with uncertainty and hesitation. "I know I said some things before...about you distracting me from soccer," he begins, his gaze searching yours for understanding.

Your eyes trail down to his hand, his fingers climbing onto your hand. "You're passionate about soccer, Rin. I know that. But you don't get to shut out everything else. We can find a balance."

He exhales slowly as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "I want that, too." He admits, pulling you closer into a warm embrace.

The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing and gentle rustles of movement as Rin lays his head on your chest. He hums in contentment when he hears the sound of your heartbeat. And with each shared whisper of love and longing, it becomes clear that despite his initial reluctance, he's fully committed to making things work between you.

[sommerbueckers]

BABE OKAY I HAVE THE BEST IDEAAAA

okay so paige and r go out on like a really cute date and then at the end paige sets up the camera to propose but when she does r pulls out a ring too and they both just start DYINGGGG and btw i literally love you so freaking much

𝟐𝟒𝐊 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜

___________________________________________________________

✰ ❝𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫❞

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟏.𝟕𝐤

___________________________________________________________

PAIGE WAS DELICATELY HOLDING your heels in her hand, careful not to hit them against each other and scuff the ends. The two of you were strolling along an empty beach in Kill Devil Hills, the sun disappearing over the horizon as the hours ticked by. Your girlfriend had fallen in step with you, her hair blowing to the side as the sun casted a golden glow on her tanned cheek.

"You look so pretty baby," you murmured smoothly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

A shy smile crossed her face, and she turned away for a brief moment to release a breathless laugh. You loved how nervous she got whenever you complimented her.

"So do you mama," she said, one of her arms breaking free from the hold she had on your shoes to snake across your shoulders. She pulled you closer to her, drawing a giggle out of you as she placed a kiss on top of your head. "Lemme take a pic of you."

Paige fumbled in her pocket for her phone, feeling her hand brush over the tiny velvet box that she'd been waiting all night to bring out. She couldn't decide on the write time, she wanted you to be completely caught off guard. But you were making it harder than ever, you hadn't taken your eyes off of her the entire time.

"Is the lighting good? Make sure you can actually see my face," you told her, glancing back at the sun and slightly shifting in the other direction. "Stand over there so you can see me better."

The blonde shook her head, "How 'bout you turn around and i'll get you looking that way."

"Oh, good idea!" you grinned, twisting around in the sand. You were silent for a moment, giving her a chance to take a few photos before you glanced around. "Should I change my pose?" you asked.

"Turn around!" she laughed, her other hand quickly retreating from her pocket. You were making this harder than it needed to be without even knowing it. You had your own thoughts running wildly through your head. Your curls were up in a bun on the top of your head, and concealed within the bun was a ring tied to a string.

You had no where else to put it.

You had everything all planned out; you'd start by telling her how much she means to you, how the thought of settling down used to make you nervous but now you could do it with confidence because that's how secure she makes you feel. You'd tell her how proud you are of her basketball career and that she stayed true to herself, to God, and to you. You'd thank her for the patience she had with you and your journey through medical school. All the late nights she had stayed up with you to help you study for exams even though she had practice early the next morning. You'd express to her how you had never felt more certain of a decision than you did right now, and that's when you'd do it. You'd take your hair down as majestically as you could muster, and then you'd get down on one knee and ask her, the love of your life, to marry you.

You spun around on your heel, "Okay, let me see them now."

You looped your arm with hers as she swiped through the pictures, favoriting a few as she went by. When she got to the last one, she smiled and shut her phone off, staring down at you. It was the perfect moment, and you would've taken advantage of it if Paige hadn't decided to interrupt it instead.

"You wanna do a fit check?"

"Aren't you supposed to do that before you go out?" you quirked your eyebrow, but the blonde wasn't listening. She was already heading away from the water and toward a couple of rocks that she could set the phone up on.

"You go first." She clicked the tiny pink button and backed up to you.

"How long is this?"

"I put it on ten minutes," she laughed, gently nudging your shoulder with her hand. "Now go."

"Okay guys, this dress is from Hello Molly, all my jewelry and stuff I got from a little shop here, and my heels," you pointed to the shoes that Paige still had dangling from her fingers, "are Christian Louboutin."

She kissed your temple briefly.

"Aight so the shirt and the shorts is a gucci set 'cus y'know I keep it fresh, the shoes are from StockX, and.....the ring is from Verragio."

You stared at the camera for a moment with a smile before turning to look at her outfit. You remembered the day you had picked out the set for her, casually pointing out how you liked the patterns on it as you walked past. Next thing you knew, she was at the register with it in her hands. But there was something else you noticed about her, about her hands; she wasn't wearing any rings.

"What ring?" you frowned.

She reached into her pocket, taking a deep breath as she pulled it out. "This one."

Your eyes widened as she held up the box, her hands trembling slightly. Paige's eyes searched yours, her expression a mix of hope and nervousness. She didn't wait for you to say anything, she was afraid that if she didn't get the words out immediately then she would never have the chance to.

"For as long as i've known you, you've always been the one to make me feel understood. You know exactly what to say after i've had a bad, you never complain about having to massage my back, or my legs, or my feet," she flashed that familiar gummy smile. "You always stay late with me at the gym when I wanna get in some extra reps, you offer to grab my rebounds and play one on one with me even though you don't know a thing about basketball. All that matters to you is that i'm happy.

I love how you never let us go to bed angry at each other, how all your apologies always start off with you offering me food. I love how you anytime you try a new recipe or make a new sauce, you always want me to test it — even though you know it's already perfect. You're always doin' spontaneous things like cutting your hair or taking random trips. I love how determined you are — like you're the only person I know who has the mental capacity to go through medical school. You're so strong willed and independent, and those are things that i've always admired about you. Those are the traits I want you to give our children...someday...in the far future.

You know it's gonna pay off in the long run, and I love how you focus on that instead of how stressful the work is that you're putting in now. But most importantly, I love the way you love me. You make me feel heard, you make me feel seen. And if the world were to end right now, I'd spend my last breath telling you how much I love you. I want you to know that I see you too. I want you to make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me."

It was then that Paige got down on one knee, opening the velvet box and revealing the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen. A white gold, square diamond ring, the kind you had always talked about wanting when you'd go on your tangents about getting engaged. Paige had been listening the entire time, she had heard you. She was staring up at you with red-brimmed eyes, she had started crying. You were crying too, you weren't sure when you had started.

"Baby," she whispered, voice trembling. "Will you marry me?"

Your hand moved to cover your mouth, to cover the choked up cry that you had let out. You had been planning to propose, you hadn't planned on being proposed to. You had come to realize that it was an entirely different set of emotions to prepare for. You fanned for face to dry the tears, laughing and rolling your eyes at her.

"On one condition," you say, reaching up to pull your hair tie from your bun. Shaking your hair loose, you catch the string before it falls to the sand. You hold it up to her, her eyebrows furrowing. It caught the light, a simple yet elegant band that perfectly captured her style—understated, but undeniably beautiful. "You marry me first."

She stood abruptly, glancing back and forth between you and the ring. A breathless laugh escaped her, "You're unbelievable."

You threw your head back and laughed as well, "Dude! I had it all planned out and you beat me to you!"

"You told me you wanted me to propose to you! Forgive me for not expecting you to pull a ring our your hair!"

The two of you were smiling uncontrollably, your cheeks beginning to hurt. Paige's hands were in yours, her lip between her teeth.

"What do you say?" you beamed.

"Yes! Wha— yes!"

You slipped the ring onto her shaking fingers, and she did the same to yours. You squealed at the way the diamonds caught the light, sparkling with a brilliance that seemed to echo the joy in your heart. Paige laughed, the sound full of relief and happiness, her own eyes transfixed by the ring now resting on her hand.

Paige’s smile widened, and she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her body the only thing keeping you from practically floating with excitement. You were both trembling, hearts racing in sync, as if they too were celebrating this perfect moment.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were misty with happy tears. "I love you so much," she said, her voice catching.

She leaned in, pressing her forehead to yours, and you could feel the cool metal of the rings against your skin. The world around you seemed to slow, the moment stretching out, filled with nothing but the two of you and the love that connected your hearts.

"I love you more."

___________________________________________________________

[starboye]

pairing: chris hemsworth x male reader

request: Chris Hemsworth x twink!reader in a full nelson position? Size difference, degradation, rough sex and daddy kink please. Could it be that Chris discovered that reader was sleeping with other men like Chris Evans, Tom Holland, Will Poulter, etc? Chris is reader's sugar daddy and Chris is married, so technically they weren't dating. But Chris got so jealous (and very horny) when he found out reader was a whore that after the intense sex he promises to leave his wife for him and make it official. Even letting other men continue sleeping with reader, only Chris is now part of it now.

warnings: smut, rough sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, sugar baby reader, slight degradation, cheating!sugar daddy!chris, mentions of reader having sex with other actors, size difference

"you think its cute to be whoring yourself out to them huh" chris bellows while plowing into at a relentless pace, your back firmly placed against hid big chest while his hand wrapped around you neck drawing a gasp out of you "no" you yelp trying to slow chris' thrusts by pushing him back but he just grabs you hands and pin them to your back and pushes your face into the bed with your ass up in the air.

"then who does this sweet pussy belong to" he questions as his hands pushes your face further into the bed "yours daddy only yours" you breathlessly say as tears drip down your cheeks from the hours over over stimulation chris has put you through "and who's dick is the only dick for this hole" chris asks slapping your ass a couple times "yours sir" you say trying your hardest not to faint "yeah thats right no man is ever gonna pleasure your slutty ass the way i do" chris spits slamming into you with big thrust, a loud clap coming after each one.

"please chris i cant take it anymore" you beg "shut up, you weren't saying that when you were going around and letting those other men use your body like a prostitute" he says huskily, pounding you deeper into the matress "if you dont stop im gonna fucking break" you try and convince him "good then those others bitches wont get to use you anymore" chris snarls "please i need a break" you plea "shut up whores like you dont get breaks, whores that let other men use their hole raw" he roughly says.

you felt like your whole core was on fire for the countless hours of chris fucking you but it was your fault for letting chris, tom, and will fuck you, but how could you deny them with their hunk bodies and huge dicks, it was impossible but this is the consequences of your actions.

"i should fill you up so much it'll look like you're pregnant so they know not to fuck you" chris grunts grazing the good spot in your hole for the hundredth time, and you moan to chris' words "you like that, the idea of me getting you pregnant you walking around with a belly full of my cum" chris laughs at your reaction making you moan more and more to the idea "yes" you lightly say.

"speak up, y know i cant hear you when you're getting ruined like this" he says pulling your head up by your hair to face him "please ruin my hole, fill me up with you cum, i wanna be pregnant by you" you beg thrusting your ass back on his dick, "im gonna ruin your tiny body so much" chris growls through shut teeth "please do daddy" you plea "yeah now who do you belong to baby" chris asks as he slams into again "yours daddy" you answer sloppily "thats right and im gonna make sure you remember that" chris smirks pinning your arms behind you.

"my wife's pussy could never compare to you" chris says trowing his head back in ecstasy "thank you" you cry out as chris fills you up for the fifth or sixth time, he groans loudly as you milk the cum out of his dick, still so tight after so long of fucking session.

chris plops next to you with a light grunt "you okay" he asks sweetly, moving the hairs that are stuck to your forehead by sweat "yeah... just a little tired" you huff "dont worry ill buy you whatever you want after this" he coos "thank you chris" you say "and i promise ill leave my wife so we can be together for the rest of our lives" chris says rubbing your back"

"yeah okay" you say turning away, chris had said that same thing every time you guys fucked but never went through with it "hey look at me" he demands turning your face towards him by your chin "i promise this time" he says kissing your forehead "and you know what i guess you can continue fucking the other guys but-" he says but before he can finish you hug him "thank you chris" you excitedly say.

"hey now let me finish, you can continue fucking them but only if im their" chris emphasizes the but "fine i can deal with that" you huff playfully before kissing chris deeply "i love you" chris says pulling you into a cuddle "i love you too" you reply laying your head onto chris' chest and falling asleep.