#a trace of lace
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a-trace-of-lace · 8 days ago
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Outfit of the Day
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angellic-critique · 1 year ago
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Angel's allowed to be comfortable in his own body. He's portrayed in a sexy way because that's how he presents himself and wants to without Valentino breathing down his neck.
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How could anyone take this seriously. Participated in the porn industry but he's not proud of it despite his ENTIRE personality and eccentric drag lifestyle? Dislikes water and space and has the personality as 'Bitch'. Yeah no why are you defending this as good drag?
He is nothing without the performing name we don't even know how he died nor his human name as if that matters. The show is labeled as redemption and healing over abuse but it blatantly animates abuse without the substance of realizing that 'Hey wait a minute were portraying actual drug abuse and pimp abuse as fetish bait maybe we should rewrite angel as an actual person!'
Your characters name is slang for cocaine and his entire shtick is based around being abused. There is no point to AD other then the fact that he serves eye candy to service the fact that feminine men have to overtly ALWAYS be portrayed in media as sexual. That's a bad thing if you didn't catch my drift. Drag Queens come in different sizes shapes lives loves losses gives hopes and fears, angel dust gives none of that whatsoever.
Go to your local gay bar and have a drink dude
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blueoctopussss · 6 months ago
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Been thinking about what Ashton's FCG-inspired vest might look like, so here is a sketch based on that! I'm not 100% happy with it and I feel like it should maybe have a quote from FCG on it or something, but I'm posting it anyway because not everything has to be perfect.
I did make a long sleeve variant because they need warm clothes for the journey to Aeor, but I don't think it looks as nice.
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lesbiradshaw · 1 year ago
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⋆˙⟡♡ some of my favorite monica looks!
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active-mind-15 · 5 months ago
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Drawing baby Bokushi in cute clothes because I can (part 4)
[Art related to my fic, Accidental Siblings.]
I have recovered from my food coma today after going out to a Father's Day brunch with my family and decided to finally finish the 4th installment of this series! This one is a request from @japeneselunchtimerush who asked that I draw Bokushi in a dress and tiara that Miyoko made him put on for a fancy tea party.
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Since Bokushi would only be in this dress because of Miyoko, I thought I'd surprise you and include her in this drawing too. As you can see, she is living her best life while Bokushi is...less than impressed. But he still powered through for Miyoko which is just further proof that chivalry is still alive and well. Bless his soul.
Hope you enjoy! And to anyone who wants to request an outfit for me to draw baby Bokushi in, feel free to send it to me in any way you wish. 🫶🏿
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10-mhz · 1 year ago
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from earlier
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unscriptured · 7 months ago
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@murderdeals || a meme continuation || from here!
esther laughs at the fair trade offer. he's giving her the cheap little umbrella back. from her own stash? hmmm. doesn't seem like that's a pretty good payment for information digging. but she's going to play along cause he's cute and the most interesting thing she's run into all week. considering her nights consist mostly of kicking out local riff raff that are too drunk to keep themselves on a barstool for long and talking to the same faces she's seen since she came back home years ago? when there's a new one to talk to. with that accent. and that puzzling way of behaving? she'll sign up for an adventure of something new. just give her a few minutes.
as the request of one finger being held up gestures for.
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she grabs a beer from the cooler, uncaps it with a twist. a short walk to the end of the bar and it's handed over to an old man in a dirty pair of overalls. then wanders back. "that'll keep him busy and distract him from trying to eavesdrop on us." she puts half her back to him anyway. one elbow cocked up on the lip of the bar as she crosses cowboy booted ankles together. "nosy as nosy can be." pursing her lips as she plucks up the umbrella and twists it between her pointer and thumb, she meets his eyes. "consider this charity because your payment? cute but wow. how'd you ever come across one of these?" a light chuckle that flashes teeth and she watches the umbrella's top spin left, right, left. right. "people are saying it's coyotes. some kind of disease that went through this area way back. happens now and then. i don't know.."
"..raphael down there?" that old guy with the beard and the overalls? yeah that one. she tips her head backwards in his direction. "he says it's worse than that. monsters. ones drummed up for revenge. don't know what the people that are dead ever did. doesn't seem like they deserved that. to me? looks like they were in the wrong place at the wrong time." her face grows sad, the umbrella's sat on the counter. "no one deserves what they got. heard they were torn up bad. really bad."
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wei--wuxian · 2 years ago
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okay. i now live in a world where my old rink no longer exists.
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yourthirdparent · 2 years ago
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call me pretty by elliotly is sooooo it's such a jasico song. it's so themcore. logically speaking it'd be from nico but i am dedicated to making everything about jason so it's from jason's pov.
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a-trace-of-lace · 3 months ago
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Outfit of the Day
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ambrose123four · 6 months ago
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FASHION THINGS TO DRAW #5: A Voluminous Wedding Dress from the 80s
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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 month ago
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snooze - r.c.
(season 4 bf!rafe x gf!reader blurb, 4.1k words)
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summary Your man works harder than anyone you know, and you couldn’t love him more for it, but some mornings you just want to hold on to him a little longer…
content fluff/smut, mutual mast., p in v, 18+ minors do not interact
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Rafe’s alarm rings through the large bedroom like a blaring siren, jerking you violently from the sweet sleep you were just wrapped in. He doesn’t hear it at first, still sound asleep next to you, snores rumbling through his bare chest.
You blink your eyes open, the room is still dark, though the first golden rays of the sunrise creep in through the small crack in the curtains. You twist your body towards Rafe, snuggling your head into his neck, an attempt to both shield your eyes from the sunlight and get his attention, desperate for him to silence the loud alarm.
After a few seconds, he still hasn’t heard it, so you reach up and gently tap his cheek.
“Baby,” you groan, cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Too loud.” 
Rafe takes a deep breath in, eyes still closed as he reaches his bedside table, tapping his phone screen clumsily until the sound subsides.
He settles back in, placing a quick kiss onto the top of your head as he pulls you into his side. You sigh happily, running your nails softly up and down his chest and stomach, drawing little hearts and stars on his skin. He shivers when you graze over the soft skin of his lower stomach, following his happy trail down to his waistband. You fully plan on dipping your hand below it, where he’s already twitching and firming up for you under his sweatpants, but you get distracted by the delicious deep V lines on either side of his waist. You dip your pointer finger into the valley of muscle and trace the shape down, switching to the other side and drawing back up.
He stirs when you angle your finger to scratch lightly with your manicured nail, lingering just above the band of his Calvins that peeks out from his sweats.
“That’s so nice, baby,” he mumbles in his deep, crackling morning voice, “I love these hands.”
Rafe laces his fingers in yours with one hand, his other arm sliding under your neck and wrapping around your shoulders. He pulls you close so he can drop a sloppy kiss on your temple.
You sigh and lift your intertwined hands to place a kiss on each of his knuckles.
“Maybe you should stay home,” you suggest between kisses. “Then you can enjoy these hands all day long.”
He smiles knowingly, still not opening his eyes. You play this game every morning, trying to find ways to convince him to play hooky from work, though they never succeed. He’s always showered and out the door by sunrise, leaving you with a cup of coffee on your nightstand and a quick kiss as you drift back to sleep.
“Sounds perfect, but I have an 8 a.m. with a potential investor,” he explains.
In the quiet, Rafe starts to drift off again. You continue to stroke his chest and think of all the many enticing reasons for him to stay, but before you can list them for him, his alarm blares from his phone again. 
You lean over him, reaching to the phone on his nightstand. He takes the opportunity to snake his hand around your waist and slide it under his big t-shirt you're wearing. His hands feel so nice on your lower back, you pause, almost forgetting what you were reaching for in the first place, until the alarm rings out again, making you both wince with its volume. You tap the screen desperately until it’s silenced.
“Just hitting snooze so we can have five more minutes,” you say, settling down over him and resting your cheek on his chest.
“Liar,” he says with a sleepy smirk. “You turned it off.”
You fake an offended gasp, “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of such deception, Rafe Cameron.”
“So when five minutes go by and the alarm doesn’t go off again, what are you gonna say then?”
“I was hoping you’d fall back to sleep by then,” you confess with a giggle, laying a soft kiss on his chest, right over his heart.
“I knew it.”
He sits up in bed, causing you to fall back onto the pillows, immediately missing his warmth. You paw at his arm as he reaches over to check the time on his phone.
“Nooo,” you whine. “Don’t go yet.”
He smiles down at you, leaning over to place loving kisses on the edge of your jaw and up your face, touching his lips to your temple one final time before standing from the bed.
Your vision is still fuzzy from sleep and the darkness of the room, but you follow the general shape of him as he walks to the wall of windows on the other side of the room. He’s shirtless, the lower half of his body covered in soft gray sweats. You squirm a little under the comforter as you take him in. You didn’t know it was possible to be this attracted to someone, but it’s like every day you’re with him, your body craves him more, and it makes it that much more painful when he leaves.
Rafe interrupts your reverie by lifting his arms and throwing the curtains wide open. You flinch at the bright sunlight that pours through the windows like it’s burning you.
“Too bright, Rafe!” You protest. 
He just turns with a smug smile, his tall silhouette casting a shadow over the bed, blocking you from the blinding sun.
“I’ll make you some coffee before I go,” he promises as he leaves you alone in the bedroom, pulling a pillow over your face to shield yourself from the daylight.
It’s silly to complain when his hard work is the whole reason you can lay in this comfortable bed so late into the morning. When he’s not with you, he’s at the office, earning you all this comfort, but it still seems unfair when you want him this badly.
You used to be an early riser, but the way he lays you down every night when he gets home, fucking you hard and slow until you fall asleep clinging to him, it’s made you a whole new person. You’d pay him twice his salary if you had it just to get him to stick around a little longer, make you feel that good again.
A devious idea comes to your brain, and you pull the covers from yourself quickly, making fast moves before he gets back.
When Rafe comes back into the room a few minutes later, he nearly spills your hot coffee all over himself at the sight that greets him.
The comforter is bundled at the end of the bed, nothing covering your body as you stretch out on the mattress. You’ve switched out his t-shirt and your baggy sweats for a silky pair of boy-short panties and a lacy bra. You're facing away from him, laying on your side, the curve of your hips and peekaboo view of your ass casting a scandalous shadow on the wall. The fabric of your panties is so flimsy, it climbs up the curve of your ass, revealing you to him as if they’re barely there at all.
“Nice try,” he shakes his head, though the small crack in his voice betrays his defiance. You know you’ve got him hard and frazzled.
“Hmmm?” You don’t turn to look at him, instead bending your knee and sliding one leg up higher to give him an even better angle of your ass. 
“It’s not gonna work…” he insists, setting your coffee down, fully intending to turn and make his way to the walk-in closet to get dressed, yet somehow finding himself completely immobile.
“What’s not going to work?” You echo, feigning cluelessness in a way you know is gonna drive him mad.
“I really do have a meeting,” he continues his one-sided argument, trying desperately to convince himself. “I can’t be late, it’s important.”
“Okay! Have a good day, baby,” you yawn, shifting on the sheets as if you’re just getting comfortable, hoping he doesn’t see the smile you’re hiding in your pillow, obsessed with the strain in his voice that reveals his resolve is cracking.
The mattress sinks slowly under his weight, and you can feel the heat of him before he even touches your skin. His hand slides up your leg, from your ankle all the way up to your thigh, where he pauses to squeeze your flesh. 
“You’re gonna be late,” you let your mouth twist into a cheeky smile. 
He huffs a defeated laugh, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder in frustration, “you’re killing me.”
“I’m not doing anything!” You giggle, arching your back and giving him a better glimpse at the other side of you, your nipples already pebbling in anticipation, clearly visible through your see through bra.
Rafe responds by saying your name, so low and needy it’s almost inaudible. You twist your torso just enough to meet his eyes, blinking at him sweetly through your eyelashes.
“Yes?”
He doesn’t respond with words, just a piercing gaze. His blue eyes are blown wide with lust as he takes you in, dragging over your body helplessly, fighting an internal battle as he plots his next move. Filthy thoughts are etched on his face, you know him well enough by now to see the gears turn behind his eyes, imagining all the things he could do to you if he stayed.
“Can I at least have a kiss before you go?” You ask, hoping the taste of your lips will tip the scales in your favor.
He can’t deny you a kiss, he never does, so he leans in and meets your lips with a nod, his hand rising to softly cradle your jaw. You run your tongue so gently across his lower lip that he wonders if he imagined it. When you part your lips for him and release a small sigh, the game is over.
With another squeeze of your thigh, he pulls back from you just enough to reach his phone on the nightstand. You watch with a victorious grin as he types out a quick message, surely to his secretary, and tosses the phone somewhere on the bed. 
“Bought us an hour,” he tells you.
“Only an hour?” You pout.
“Don’t be greedy,” he teases you, shuffling behind you so he can spoon you, placing a dozen quick kisses up your arm, making you giggle in delight.
Rafe’s hand slides from your thigh to your waist, dipping to splay over your stomach so he can pull you flush against him. You sigh dreamily as he begins to suckle on your neck, leaving little pink marks everywhere his lips touch.
“Wasn’t that kind of an important meeting?” You ask, feeling a little guilty for potentially making him miss out on a good opportunity.
“Nothing’s more important than this,” he assures you.
You let out a little whimper at his sweet words, igniting a fire in him. His hand drifts up your stomach until his palm is settled over your breast, kneading gently. 
“Oh,” you gasp. “That feels good.” 
“Yeah?” He drawls with a crooked grin, pausing to drag the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Just needed a little attention today?”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Needed you.”
His hand leaves you for a minute to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. You lift your arms up so he can slide it off and toss it somewhere on the floor of the massive master suite.
The rough skin of his palm comes back to rest over your hard nipple, the sensation is so sweet that your whole body hums with pleasure. 
“God you’re so soft,” he breathes over the wet spot he’s just left on your skin, “love these tits so much.”
With that confession, he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, the pain lasting only a second before he smoothes it over with the pad of his thumb.
“Rafe!” You squeak out at the sting.
He shushes you gently, lowering his mouth to pull your earlobe between his teeth, the pressure strong, but not strong enough to pull your mind from the way his hand is dropping lower on your torso towards your panties. A pool of silky arousal gathered between your legs, you rub your thighs together in search of friction as his hand continues to move maddeningly slow.
“Don’t worry baby,” he coos, “gonna take good care of you like I always do.”
Your fingernails dig into the sheets in preparation when he finally reaches the band of your panties, lifting them to slide his hand in.
“You always take such good care of me, Rafe,” you agree.
He places his other arm under your head for support, allowing you to look down at the outline of his big hand wriggling under the damp cloth of your panties. His fingers find your entrance easily, pausing outside to swirl in your wetness.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he praises. “Always so ready for me.”
After a few more swirls, he’s satisfied with the coating, dragging his fingers back up to your clit. He hits it right away, he could find it in a hurricane. He runs his fingers over you at the perfect angle, starting with delicate figure eights.
Your head falls forward in ecstasy, unable to form words. Rafe bends his arm at the elbow, laying his hand flat against your forehead to pull your head back into his chest, your neck arching with the stretch. The pink spots he’s left on your exposed throat have darkened nicely, giving him a chance to appreciate his handiwork. He reattaches his lips, desperate to claim you as many times as he can, hungry for you.
The sweetest, breathiest moans fall from your puffy lips, and he basks in them like the sunlight that’s bleeding through the curtains. He’s nibbling on your shoulder like it’s his breakfast as his fingers pick up speed on your clit. 
Between circles and flicks, he stops to tap quickly with the tip of his middle finger, the rhythmic pressure and release has the sensitive bud pulsing. You chase his fingers pathetically with the roll of your hips, needing more.  
As you writhe, his cloth covered cock slots between the valley of your ass, each wave of your hips grinding perfectly against his shaft. You shut your eyes tight, picturing his perfect length and the gorgeous noises he makes when he comes. You need to hear those sounds like you need air.
Your hand releases from the sheets, reaching behind you to rub the hard ridge of his dick over his sweatpants. Rafe clenches his jaw, a throaty groan vibrating through his chest and straight into your body. 
“This what you wanted, angel?” He asks, his tone dominant and desperate all at the same time. The perfect balance of ownership and a genuine urgency to please you.
“Just wanted you,” you confirm through labored pants, grinding yourself into his hand, “all I ever want is you.”
“Oh yeah? Show me.”
No further instruction needed, your hand finally dips below his waistband, immediately finding his pulsing cock. 
“Shi-ii-t,” he shudders as you wrap your fingers around him, stroking slowly and reveling in how hard you’ve made him.
You notice goosebumps rush up the arm that’s disappearing into your panties, you realize your hands must be cold. You know he’d never complain, but you don’t just want him to feel good, you want him to feel as amazing as he makes you feel.
You draw your hand back from his boxers, and he groans at your absence, nearly protesting until he sees what you’re doing. You dip your hand into your underwear, gently nudging his out of the way, and collect some of your wetness onto your own fingers. Your hand glistens in the morning sunlight when you pull it out, displaying it for him before returning your grip to his cock.
He’s speechless. Eyes rolling back at how fucking sexy that was, desperate to ground himself before he comes too quickly in your hand. He moves his palm down from your forehead to cup your throat, not too much pressure to hurt, but enough to remind you how strong he is. You whimper, swallowing hard under his broad palm.
“Jesus christ, baby,” he sputters, “you’re my fucking dream girl.” 
You fall in sync, Rafe rubbing tight, firm circles over your clit, while you slide your hand up and down his shaft, pausing at the tip with each stroke to swirl your thumb in the precum he’s leaking. His knuckles flex in response to each flick of your thumb, pads of his fingers holding and releasing your neck in steady pulses. 
You squeeze his cock as he squeezes your throat, so perfectly aligned in your drunken pleasure that you both chuckle at how unbelievable it feels. But if you’re laughing, then surely he’s not doing a good enough job.  
He draws your clit between his fingers, rolling over and over, not pinching too hard, but just hard enough to set every nerve ending in your body on fire. You draw your knees up, your hand slowing involuntarily on his cock as you feel the familiar coil tighten in your tummy, seconds from snapping.
“I can’t believe you’re real, you’re so perfect,” Rafe whispers into your shoulder, kissing you over and over.
“Gonna make me come talking like that, baby,” you warn him.
“You want that? You want me to make you come in my hand?”
“Not yet,” you choke out, so close that you’re already dreading coming down from your high. It’s too soon, it’s not enough. No amount of him will ever be enough, but you at least need him closer. “Want you inside, need you in me.”
“Anything. Anything you want,” he swears as he pulls his hand from your core to rip your panties down your legs. You pull them off over your feet and toss them away as he removes his pants and boxers behind you. 
The fabric finally out of the way, his dick spears into your back, somehow always so much bigger and more powerful than you remember. You pray he doesn’t make you wait any longer, wriggling back onto your side so your soaked pussy is perfectly exposed to him. 
In the soft morning light, he finally gets a good view of your slick folds, nearly busting all over your back at the sight. He’s filled this new condo with the most expensive art he could find, but nothing comes close to the masterpiece in front of him. To him, you’re fucking priceless.
He wastes no more time, tucking a hand under your knee to angle your leg up. You take his cue, understanding each other without words as always, and brace your foot flat against his calf, propping yourself open for him.
A combination of the angle and his picture perfect memory of your walls has his tip hitting your g-spot on the very first thrust. He stretches you so sweetly, the tight fit making your brain go foggy and your mouth fall open, gasping helplessly.
“Like this?” He asks, not taunting but not really asking either, already knowing the answer to “this how you want it?”
“Not quite,” you whisper. 
He freezes with confusion before you reach behind you to find the hand he has braced on your hip, pulling it up and placing it back around your neck.
“There,” you say, “now it’s perfect.”
“Holy shit,” Rafe stammers, hips jerking forward, slamming into you a little too hard, lost in his infatuation with you. 
At first he worries it’s too hard, but a dreamy moan rises from your throat and you encourage, “yes, yes, like that, please.”
Mouth agape in disbelief at his pure fucking luck in finding you, he obeys your plea, pulling back slow before thrusting in hard again. The hand that’s not on your throat pushes into the mattress beneath your head, lifting himself up for leverage. He continues to fuck into you hard, pausing after each stroke to hit as deep as he can possibly get. You’re a mess, crying out with each slap of his hips against your ass, blabbering incoherently as you clench around him.
“Ohhh my god you’re so tight,” he growls through gritted teeth. “‘I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing me like that. You gonna let me come inside?”
Your eyes fly open as an invisible light bulb goes off above your head, you twist to meet his eyes, his lids low and irises completely blown out with lust.
“If I do, will you stay home?” you proposition him.
He scoffs, shaking his head in pure amusement and adoration, tongue digging into the side of his cheek in the cocky way you love. From this angle, the sharp features of his perfect face hover just inches from yours. The sheer attraction you feel makes your walls flutter around his cock, a tease of his reward if he promises to stay.
Rafe screws his eyes shut, his head falling back as you pulse around him repeatedly.
“Fuck! Yes, I promise, I promise,” he cries out as he continues thrusting into you sloppily, “I’ll do anything. I’ll sell my house, I’ll change my fucking name. Just ask me and I’ll do it.”
His theatrics delight you, bubbly giggles rising from your stomach as he loses himself in you. You can’t remember ever loving anyone as much as you love him at this moment.
“Kiss me,” you whisper, completely enamored with the man inside you.
Without a thought, he slips the hand on your throat to the back of your neck, kneading your skin as he pulls your mouth to his. It’s not gentle, like his typical good morning kisses, it’s messy and wet and hard and completely mind numbing. You bite on his bottom lip, almost accidentally, losing your mind at the taste of him.
“B-baby,” he stutters, his hips doing the same, “can’t - fuck -  can’t wait any longer. Tell me where you want it.”
“Mmmph, inside, please! Please fill me up, Rafe.”
It’s all he needs to hear, he buries himself deeper than he’s ever been. 
“Come with me?” he pleads.
You’re so close, you can’t even find words, nodding rapidly. He hits your g-spot one final time and you slip off the edge of the earth into uncut ecstasy.
Your eyes roll back and your toes dig into his leg, bruising his calf. His tip hits your cervix hard, hot cum pooling deep in your core, spilling out of him for longer than you thought possible. His breath is ragged and his chest heaving as his body jerks around you.
Both trembling, his arm gives out and he slumps down, curled around you. Sweaty and satisfied, you catch your breath together, Rafe still buried deep. 
He plants wet kisses on the nape of your neck, brushing your hair out of the way and blowing gently to cool you down. You see only bright white behind your closed eyes, floating in a perfect pleasure you didn’t know was possible until you met this man.
After a few moments, or possibly hours, he starts to pull out. Your hips chase his defiantly, refusing to lose his warmth again.
“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, reaching back to grab his hip and hold him in place. “You promised.”
“I also promised to change my name, you gonna make me do that, too?” He laughs.
“Maybe.”
“Oh really? What are you gonna call me?”
“I dunno,” you shrug. “How about daddy?”
Your teasing has the intended effect, Rafe twitching inside you, already hardening again. He knows you’re just playing with him, but his mind spirals out of control at the pet name. He’s so in love he thinks it might kill him.
Settling back into you, he reaches around the bed until his hand finds his discarded cell phone.
Your lips twist into a smirk as you hear him dial, still buried in your heat.
The dial tone rings a few times and he says, “yeah, gonna need you to clear my whole day. Something came up.”
He thanks the voice on the other line, hanging up and tossing his phone somewhere in the mountain of blankets on the floor.
“A whole day?” You ask, nestling back into his chest. “Aren’t you gonna lose the money from those investors?”
“Probably,” he shrugs, laying more slow kisses on your shoulder. “Worth every fucking cent.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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multi-fandom-imagine · 10 months ago
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ミ★: Lucifer Morningstar giving you oral.
A/n: I said it was gonna happen so here it is.
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It wasn't Lucifer's fault that he fell for you, you were so sweet, so kind to Charlie that it just happened. He was over the moon knowing that you felt the same way, I mean it's not like he knew you were Adam's wife...ex as you would often correct him given that the angel was the one that sent you to hell.
Though it was how you told him that you never had a real orgasm, that Adam refused to even go down on you. He knew that he had to fix that, he was going to make you scream his name.
Hovering over you, Lucifer ran his tongue over his lips. You looked so good, so beautiful, from your soft curves, the way your skin glowed in the dim light, it was a vision that never failed to captivate him.
As Lucifer shifted his body on the bed, he let his fingers trace a path from your collarbone down to the gentle swell of your breasts. His touch was feather light, teasing as a small whimper escaped your lips.
A smirked formed on his lips, his forked tongue poking through his lips as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed. His eyes locking with yours, his voice low and filled with hunger.
"Spread your legs for me, my pretty little angel." His voice was laced with anticipation. "I want to taste you, make you scream my name."
He then delved between your thighs, his tongue eager to please you, his lips and tongue working in tandem to bring you to the heights of pleasure. He devoured you with a hunger, your gasp's and moans only fueling him.
Lucifer's forked tongue gliding across your clit, gently sucking the bud as your nails dug into the sheets.
He was smiling now, couldn't help but feel happy knowing that he was the one giving you pleasure. As he continued to tease and pleasure you, his fingers found his way to your entrance, slipping inside to further intensify the sensations. Lucifer continued to explore you with his mouth, his tongue tracing patterns over your sensitive flesh, his fingers thrusting rhythmically within you.
He relished in the sounds of your pleasure, the way your moans filled the room, spurring him on to push you further towards ecstasy.
He reveled in the taste of you, the way you quivered beneath your touch, your body trembling with each wave of pleasure that washed over you. He was going to commit these sound's to his memory.
And when you finally reached your climax, your body convulsing with pleasure, he held you tightly, his lips pressed against your trembling thighs as he rode out your release. Only when he was certain you had been thoroughly satisfied, Lucifer pulled away, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips.
He could still taste you and god did he already miss taste.
"My dearest" Lucifer's voice filled with adoration. "You are intoxicating as ever, I will make sure you will be treated how you deserved to be treated."
Leaning in, Lucifer nuzzled his nose into your neck. "Rest assured, I will alway's find you attractive. You are mine and I will make sure you are always satisfied."
Feeling warmth creep up your cheeks, you did your best avoid eye contact with Adam as Lucifer clutched you tightly to his chest.
"YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!"
A slow smirk formed on Lucifers lip's as he clutched you tightly to his chest. One hand moving to his lips as he made a v with his fingers. "We did a lot more than fuck."
13K notes · View notes
lovecuprite · 12 days ago
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Ft. Ayato ノ Alhaitham ノ Wanderer ノ Childe ノ Wriothesley ノ Neuvillette
sum: things you do that unintentionally turn them on. wc: 14k - roughly 2k - 2.5k per part
contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in alhaitham's), oral (reader givingノreceiving), fingering, come swallowing, handjob in wrio's, mentions of pregnancy/breeding kink in ayato's, out in the open for wanderer's but not caught, 69 in neuvillette's + he carries you
a/n: i liked this until i didn't, which is awkward :')
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જ⁀ when he loses to you in a debate - 2k
It felt like the hundredth time that day you’d torn his argument to pieces, your words sharp and precisely calculated. Alhaitham leaned back, eyeing you with a narrowed gaze as he re-evaluated every point you made, searching desperately for a flaw. But there wasn’t one—and that infuriated him.
He was accustomed to being the sharpest mind in the room, to dissecting others’ logic with ease. Yet here you were, dismantling his points without breaking a sweat, meeting him step for step. It should have annoyed him beyond measure. And yet…
His pulse quickened, and he could feel his focus drifting, thoughts derailing as you delivered yet another rebuttal with a slight, victorious curl of your lips. There was a fire in your eyes, a self-assurance that both irritated and exhilarated him, pulling him into an awareness that had little to do with intellectual sparring.
He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, from the determined glint in your eyes to the way your lips formed around each sharp, defiant word. His jaw clenched, and he felt that familiar frustration morph into something else, something darker, something primal.
“Nothing to say?” you prodded with a smug smile, savouring your apparent win. “That’s not like you, Alhaitham.”
His eyes darkened. For a second, the composed mask slipped, and the heat simmering beneath flickered to the surface. “I could argue,” he replied, his voice low, dangerously calm. “But it seems you’re enjoying this far too much.”
The bitterness in his voice was laced with something else, something unwilling—an almost grudging respect. You’d pushed him to the edge, stripped him of his usual control, and a part of him both resented and admired your nerve. But there was no denying it: you were driving him insane.
A charged silence hung between you, and he felt it—the heat radiating from your body, the steady rhythm of your breath, so close he could feel it. His own thoughts had scattered, leaving him with nothing but the ache of desire he was no longer able to ignore. Alhaitham stood taller, his expression hardening as his gaze settled on your lips, then drifted back to meet your eyes.
“You’re insufferable,” he murmured, his voice roughened by tension. But the bite was gone from his tone, replaced by something unspoken, something magnetic.
Suddenly, he moved, his body pressing you back against the bookshelf, his hands bracketing you, and every other word disappeared from his mind. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper in your ear. “You think you’re so clever,” he said, his fingers tracing along your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, “always knowing just what to say to get under my skin.”
You felt his other hand slide down, coming to rest on your hip as he drew you closer. Every inch of his lean frame was now flush against you, his erection pressing insistently through the layers between you. The last of his restraint was slipping, replaced by a raw intensity that left no space for pretences.
His lips grazed along your neck, each touch sending a shudder of heat through you as his breath came hot and uneven while he slipped a hand under your shirt, fingers trailing possessively over skin that was bare. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he whispered, his voice low and inviting against your neck. “Pushing me, daring me. Now, let’s see just how far you can go.”
In a single, bruising kiss, he claimed your mouth, his hands now exploring the lines and curves of your body with a feverish hunger, mapping out every reaction he’d managed to draw from you. His kiss was fierce and commanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he tasted every inch of you, unravelling the last threads of your composure.
With one swift movement, he spun you around, pressing your front against the bookshelf. A few books tumbled from the shelves, forgotten in the heat building between you as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against your shoulder, his voice low and dark. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered, rough with need, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt, fingertips trailing against your skin. “All this time, getting under my skin… has it been driving you mad, too?”
Alhaitham’s hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers brushing against the warmth radiating through the thin damp fabric of your underwear. A quiet groan escapes him, a sound rough with desire, as he felt your wetness, his own anticipation building with every heartbeat.
"You're so fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. His fingers slip under the fabric, sliding through your slick folds. "All this time, you've been getting off on our arguments, haven't you? Getting yourself all worked up, imagining me bending you over and fucking you in my office."
He circles your clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he works you over with his skilled fingers.
"I bet you've touched yourself thinking about me," he continues, his words filthy and raw. "Imagined my cock splitting you open, making you moan my name.”
“Shut up, you talk too much-” you mumble.
Alhaitham chuckles darkly at your mumbled plea, his fingers still working between your legs. "No no-. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me how much you need my cock."
He thrusts two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes your knees weak. His thumb rubs tight circles around your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.
"Come on, angel. Use that clever tongue of yours for something other than arguing with me. Beg for it."
His other hand slides up under your shirt, roughly palming one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple, a gasp falling from your lips.
"Or maybe you'd rather I stop altogether? Leave you here, dripping and desperate, with nothing to satisfy you but your own fingers?"
He slows his movements, letting the threat hang in the air. Your hips buck back against him, seeking more friction, more pressure. You're so close, and yet he holds all the power to send you over.
"What's it gonna be, sweetheart? You gonna be a good girl and tell me what you want?”
"Please, need it-"
Alhaitham's fingers still inside you at your breathy plea, your desperate words sending a thrill through him. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks, "There we go.”
He pulls his fingers out slowly, teasingly. You whimper at the loss, your hips pushing back, seeking to be filled again.
"Ah ah," he tuts, his hand resting on your ass. "Patience. You'll get what you need.”
He steps back, leaving you bent over the bookshelf and aching for him. He undoes his belt, along with the zipper. He approaches his desk drawer, rummaging through before he settles back behind you. You hear the crinkle of foil, the snap of latex, and then the head of his cock teasing your entrance.
Alhaitham runs it along your slit, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. He drags the tip through your folds, covering himself in your sticky arousal.
"Look at you, wanting it so badly," he taunts, his voice a low growl.
He pushes forward, just the tip breaching you, stretching you open. Your walls flutter around him, trying to draw him in deeper.
"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He chuckles darkly, slowly sinking into your heat inch by excruciating inch.
He bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, savouring the feel of your tight walls clenching around him.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips.
He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and purposeful. He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes.
"That's it-" he encourages, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock like the good girl you are."
His hand snakes around to your front, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
Alhaitham sets a deep, punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with each thrust. The bookcase rocks under the force of his movements; books tumble to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
He leans over you, a hand closing on your hip as his cock drives into you relentlessly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes your toes curl.
He picks up the pace, fucking into you harder and faster now, chasing his own release. Skin slapping against skin fills the room with an obscene sound, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.
He buries his face in your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he pounds into you, lost in the feeling of your hot, wet walls clenching around him.
His fingers closed tight around your hips, pinning you down as he thrust with a fervour that made you cling to the bookshelf. “Fuck, I’m close-" he groaned, his voice thick with restraint. And just when you thought he’d let go, he pulled away, leaving you empty and aching, the heat between you simmering in the air. 
Before you could protest, he spun you around, lifting you onto the edge of his desk. He pushes your legs apart, settling between your thighs once more.
"Wanna’ see your face," he growls, his voice rough with desire.
He lines himself up, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. Then, with one swift thrust, he's buried inside you again, filling you completely.
He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with wild abandon. The desk creaked beneath you with each powerful thrust, papers slipping off in a messy cascade to the floor.
He pressed into you, his weight grounding you in place as his lips found yours in a fierce, consuming kiss that left you breathless. When he finally broke away, his mouth traced a heated path down your neck, lips and teeth grazing over your skin, each touch both a promise and a tease. His hips never stop moving, pounding into you with a frenzied energy.
"Come for me," he demands, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. "I want to feel you come apart on my cock."
He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs in tight, fast circles, the added stimulation sending you spiralling towards the edge.
Your walls start to flutter, Your breaths are fast and uneven, your body trembling, teetering just on the edge. “Come on,” he murmured, his movements growing less controlled, more desperate, as he felt his own resolve slipping. “Let go… let me feel you.”
With a final, brutal thrust, he sends you flying over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure washing through your body. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the aftershocks.
Alhaitham follows shortly after, his cock pulsing inside you as he finds his own release. He buries his face in your neck, muffling his groan against your skin.
You both collapse onto the desk, panting and spent, bodies still joined in the aftermath of your passionate encounter.
"Maybe we should have debates more often...." you joke breathlessly.
"Only if it ends like this." he mutters tirelessly as he leans in, his lips meeting yours.
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જ⁀ when you argue with him - 2.5k
“Do you ever think before you act?” you snapped, standing so close to Childe that the heat radiating from him matched your own.
His jaw tightened, and he leaned in, voice rising to meet yours. “Don’t lecture me about thinking ahead! If you’d just trusted me for once, we wouldn’t even need a backup plan!”
“Trust you?” You let out a harsh, bitter laugh, meeting his glare without flinching. “How am I supposed to trust you when you treat this like some game? People could have gotten hurt, Childe! This isn’t just your reckless thrill.”
He scoffed, but something in his eyes softened, though it was quickly swallowed by the intensity burning there. "You think I take this lightly? It’s so damn frustrating to have you question every move I make."
You took another step closer, your heart beating faster as the air between you grew heavier, alive with unspoken tension. "I question your moves because they're reckless, Childe. Because you act like you're the only one who matters!
"That's what you think?" he growled, his voice was low and furious. "That I don't care what happens to the people around me?"
For a moment, there was something raw in his eyes—open and wounded—but you pushed the feeling aside, refusing to let him derail you. "You say you care, but you're so caught up in your ego that you can't see past your own reflection.".
"Ego?" He snorted, but his eyes were wild, almost electric, and he leaned in closer to you, the space between you evaporating. "You're one to talk! Acting like you know everything, like I can't do a single thing out there without you hovering over my shoulder."
“Because I have to! If I don’t, you’d—” Your voice wavered as you became acutely aware of just how close he was, his face inches from yours. His eyes flickered down to your lips, lingering for the faintest beat before they snapped back to meet yours.
And that’s when it struck you—his cheeks were flushed, his gaze burning with something more than just anger. The tension between you wasn’t just frustration; there was a heat simmering beneath it all, sparking like a fuse, and you could feel it as clearly as the breath between you.
This wasn’t just anger. The challenge, the fight, you standing toe-to-toe with him—it had him caught up in something else entirely.
You sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily thrown. “Are… are you enjoying this?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, incredulous.
Childe didn't even try to hide it; his eyes softened, and a smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his voice low and charged. "Maybe I am," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Didn't think you had this much fire in you.".
You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks. “This isn’t funny, Childe. I’m trying to get through to you, and you’re—”
“Oh, I’m listening,” he cut in, his voice dropping even lower, rougher. “But I can’t help it if seeing you like this… gets me a little fired up.” His eyes gleamed with a challenging spark, as if daring you to push him further, to keep pushing back.
Your breath caught, but you refused to back down, even as you felt the air between you grow thick with an intensity that was no longer just anger. “You’re… unbelievable,” you managed, your voice wavering slightly.
Childe’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours as he took that final, daring step closer. His hand found your jaw, fingers brushing your skin with a touch that was both gentle and possessive. For a heartbeat, the only sound between you was your own uneven breathing as his gaze flicked once more to your lips, lingering there.
“I’m unbelievable, am I?” he murmured, voice barely a breath, but carrying enough intensity to make your pulse race even faster.
"I-"
Before you could respond, his lips met yours with a raw intensity that sent a jolt through you. The kiss was anything but restrained—urgent, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and was finally letting go. His fingers tightened around your jaw, his other hand slipping to your waist to pull you in close, eliminating any trace of space between you.
You matched his intensity, pressing back just as fiercely, your hands finding his shoulders and gripping tight as you poured every ounce of pent-up frustration, tension, and maybe something more into the kiss. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into nothing as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that left you breathless.
Childe groaned low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. He broke away from your mouth just long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "You drive me crazy," he growled against your throat, his voice rough with need. "Always questioning me, always pushing back. It's fucking hot."
His hands glide along your sides, lifting your shirt in one fluid motion and discarding it as his eyes roamed over you, dark with desire. He paused just briefly, letting the sight of you linger, before his mouth found you again, tracing the curves of your chest with lips and tongue, his fingers deftly working to free you from your bra.
You arched into his touch, head falling back as pleasure sparked through you. Your own hands worked frantically at his clothes, desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Ajax," you gasped out, your voice breathy and wanton. "Please..."
He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Please what?" he murmured, nipping at your collarbone. "I wanna hear you say it."
You swallowed hard, your mind hazy with desire. "I want you," you managed, your voice trembling. "I want you to fuck me, please-”
He captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid down to grip your ass, pulling you harder against his already hard cock. You could feel the heat of him even through the layers of clothing that still separated you.
"I need you," Childe rasped against your lips, his hips rolling against yours in a slow grind. "Right fucking now."
He guided you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed, the heated kiss unbroken. He slid down on top of you in one fluid motion, pressing you down onto the bed as he moved with you, pinning you under him, his eyes dark and intense as he took you in. His chest rose and fell with a few heavy breaths as he steadied himself.
"This is your last chance to back out," he whispered, his voice low and rough-edged. "Because once I start, I won't stop until I've had every bit of you."
Your eyes met his, soft and misty with anticipation as the unspoken answer hung in the charged space between you.
"I don't want you to stop," you breathed, reaching up to pull him down into another kiss. "I want everything you've got-"
With a feral growl, his hands made quick work of the remaining barriers between you. Childe's fingers hooked into your waistband and yanked your trousers and panties down in one swift motion. His eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of you, splayed out beneath him, completely bare. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, his voice rough with desire.
He settled between your thighs, the heat of his bare skin against your most sensitive parts making you gasp. His fingers trailed teasingly along your inner thighs, brushing maddeningly close to where you needed him most.
"Please," you whimpered, arching your hips in search of more friction. "Ajax, I need-"
“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a finger softly over your lips. "Just relax… let me take care of you." His voice was just a lulling hum, low and comforting.
He lowered his head and traced a slow, tantalising path up your inner thigh with his tongue, each inch a deliberate tease. A shiver coursed through you, your fingers clutching the sheets as he inched closer to your core, building anticipation with every lingering touch.
When his tongue finally ran along your slit, you cried out, your back bowing off the bed. His tongue swirled around your clit, lapping at you with a hunger that bordered on feral. Two fingers pushed inside you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way.
"That's it, let me hear you," Childe growled against your skin, his words sending vibrations straight to your core. "Fuck, you taste so good. I could eat this sweet little pussy all day."
He worked you relentlessly, his fingers curling inside you just right, his tongue flicking mercilessly over your clit. It wasn’t long before you were teetering on the edge, thighs trembling around him as your fingers tangled desperately in his hair.
His mouth moved over you with a hungry intensity, each slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue sending sparks racing through you, making your hips roll instinctively to meet his every movement.
Your arousal slicked his lips and chin as he held you close, his fingers working in tandem, pressing into you and curling just right to reach that deep, electric spot that made you lose all sense of restraint. The pleasure built steadily, his every touch pushing you closer to the point of no return, your entire body drawn taut in anticipation.
The obscene sounds of his mouth on your pussy, the squelch of his fingers inside you, the filthy slurps and moans he made as he ate you out - it was almost too much to bear.
He groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you buck and writhe beneath him. His free hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, pinning you in place as he kept up his relentless assault on your clit.
Your thighs were shaking violently as your muscles tensed and coiled tight with your approaching orgasm. Childe sensed it too, doubling his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit as he finger-fucked you harder, faster.
"Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against your soaked folds. "Let me feel you come undone on my tongue. Fucking soak me, baby.”
With a hoarse cry, you shattered, your body convulsing as wave upon wave of searing pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers, your arousal slick on his chin, dripping down onto the sheets beneath him.
Childe groaned low in his throat, lapping at your release as if it were the finest ambrosia, wringing the last drop of pleasure from your body until you lay still beneath him.
He slowly pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He licked his lips, savouring your taste with a satisfied hum. “Tastes so fucking sweet.”
He crawled up your body, settling between your thighs once more. You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, making you clench with anticipation.
"I need to be inside you," Childe growled, his voice strained with need. "Need to feel this tight little cunt squeezing my cock."
He reached down, gripping himself and rubbing the swollen head of his cock through your slick folds. You whimpered, your hips canting up, trying to force him inside.
"Please," you begged, your voice wrecked and desperate. "Ajax, I need you. Need you so fucking bad."
With a low groan, he pushed forward, sinking into your wet heat inch by inch. You both moaned at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Childe panted, his hips rolling in shallow thrusts as he let you adjust to him. "Feels so good, baby. So fucking good."
Once you'd both adjusted, he started to move, pulling out slowly before snapping his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you. He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with a force that made the bed creak and your body jolt with each powerful thrust.
Childe's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your legs up and back towards your chest, folding you nearly in half. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper inside you, hitting spots you didn't even know existed.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a brutal pace. "Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch of my cock."
You could do no more than moan incoherently, hands scrabbling at the sheets. The feeling of him so deep inside you, stretching you, filling you, was almost too much to bear.
"You like that, don't you?" Childe panted, strained with exertion.
"Like having me so fucking deep inside you." He punctuated each filthy word with a sharp snap of his hips, driving into you so hard that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Your eyes rolled back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as another orgasm crashed over you, your walls clamping down around him like a vice.
"Shit, baby," Childe growled, his rhythm faltering as he fought to hold back his own release. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. Gonna- gonna make me cum if you keep doing that."
But you were too far gone to care, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure consuming you. All you could do was hold on for dear life as Childe fucked you through your orgasm, his cock hitting your deepest spots with every thrust, pushing you higher and higher until you were sure you'd black out from the intensity of it all.
Childe's thrusts grew erratic, his fingers digging into your ankles as he chased his own release.
His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside you as he found his peak. You felt the hot rush of his cum painting your walls, claiming you from the inside out. 
A low, shuddering groan escaped him as the intensity of his release rippled through his body. And for a long, quiet moment, neither of you moved, basking in the dying warmth and soft haze of satisfaction.
The weight of Childe pressed against you as he lowered your legs back down. His warm breath on your shoulder as he stayed inside of you. He slowly lifted his head, eyes locked with yours. For that one moment, there was something soft in his eyes—something almost tender—the softness he mostly protected.
"You're amazing, you know that?" he muttered, his voice low and warm.
A smile played at your lips as you looked up at him, quiet happiness filling your eyes. "Not too bad yourself," you teased, reaching up to rest your hand against his cheek, your thumb tracing a light path along his jawline. "For a reckless, ego-driven, pain in the ass."
Childe laughed, leaning into your touch with a shameless grin. "I think you meant to say charming, irresistible, and exceptionally skilled in bed," he corrected, a roguish glint firing in his eyes.
"Yeah, maybe that too," you whispered, pulling him into a soft, dragged-out kiss, basking in the wordless connection that ran between you.
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જ⁀ seeing you do domestic things - 2.4k
Ayato leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, his eyes focused on you as you worked. The soft light of the afternoon filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on the scene in front of him. You were humming quietly to yourself as you stirred the pot on the hob, moving with a quiet grace that Ayato could only admire.
It wasn’t just the domesticity of the moment that caught his attention—it was the way you made it look so effortless, the way you fit so naturally into his life, his home. You were already making the space feel like it was your joint space, your presence breathing life into the place, and Ayato found himself growing more and more captivated by the thought of this becoming a permanent reality.
You glanced up, catching him watching you, and a teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you going to help?"
Ayato stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’d rather just watch you, honestly,” he said smoothly, his voice thick with desire. “It’s hard to look away when you make something as simple as cooking look so… irresistible.”
You laughed lightly, but his eyes stayed locked on you, the intensity of his gaze deepening with each passing second. You continued with your work, though something about the way he was looking at you made your pulse quicken.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked, still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity in your voice.
He moved closer, placing his hands casually on the counter beside you, his body barely separate from yours. “You,” he said bluntly, his voice dropping lower. “Watching you cook, has me thinking about our future together… it’s making it impossible to focus.”
You paused, raising an eyebrow. “A future together?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the implication. “Like what?”
Ayato’s lips curled into a confident, knowing smile. “Like this. You, in our home, doing all these wifely things, making our space feel warm and lived-in…” His voice was laced with a quiet heat as he leaned in, his breath brushing against your ear. “I can already see it—us—with kids running around, your laugh filling the halls, hearing the sound of little feet chasing each other.”
The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you froze for a moment, feeling his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His chest pressed against yours, and you could feel his heartbeat—a steady rhythm that matched the rapid pace of your own.
Ayato didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips captured yours in a kiss—slow at first, but quickly turning deeper as his hands slid around to your back, pulling you even closer. His desire was palpable, every movement of his hands speaking louder than his words ever could.
When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily, his hands still on you as he looked down at you with a knowing smile. “I can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hoarse. “Seeing you like this, talking about our future… I want it, more than anything. And I want you... right here, right now.” His eyes darkened with desire. “I can’t stop thinking about it—thinking about you.”
You shivered at his words, your chest tightening with anticipation. His boldness, his forwardness—it wasn’t something you were used to seeing from Ayato, and yet in this moment, it made your heart race. You felt the weight of his desire, the rawness of it, and it ignited something in you as well.
He didn’t wait for you to respond, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands sliding along the curves of your body with a sense of urgency. “You’re going to drive me mad if you keep looking at me like that,” he growled. “I can already picture it, I want it all.”
His words were enough to push you over the edge, and without thinking, you pulled him closer, kissing him fiercely, giving into the heat between you. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you up against him as his desire burned hotter.
And as he kissed you with an intensity you hadn’t expected, you realised that this wasn’t just about the moment. It was about the future you were both already imagining together—the family, the home, the life—and Ayato was determined to make that future as real as possible.
The thought of a life together, full of passion, warmth, and the sound of children’s laughter echoing through your shared home, consumed him completely. And as he held you close, he knew he would stop at nothing to make that future a reality.
Ayato's hands slide down your sides, his touch igniting sparks wherever he touches. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. "I want you so badly," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to make you mine in every way possible."
His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he starts to tug it upward, his fingers skimming over the smooth skin of your stomach. You shiver at his touch, arching into him as he leans down to trail kisses along your collarbone.
"I can't wait to see you round with my child," he breathes against your skin, his hand splaying across your belly. "To know that I put them there."
He walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the kitchen counter, and with a swift movement, he lifts you onto it, stepping between your parted thighs.
"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he promises, his hands already working to remove your clothes.
The intensity of Ayato's desire is palpable as he stands between your parted thighs, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin as he slowly strips away your clothing, revealing more and more of you to his appreciative eyes.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. "So perfect."
His fingers trace the curve of your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples until they harden under his touch. You gasp, arching into him, craving more of his touch. He obliges, leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on your breasts. His other hand slides down your stomach.
Ayato's hand slides down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your panties. You gasp at the contact, your hips lifting instinctively seeking more of his touch. He chuckles lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"So eager," he teases, his fingers slipping lower, brushing against your slick folds.
He circles your clit with a feather-light touch, making you whimper and squirm beneath him. Your head falls back against the counter, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself to the sensation of his skilled fingers.
"Please," you breathe, your hips rolling against his hand, seeking more friction.
Ayato obliges, sliding a finger inside you, then another, pumping them in and out of your pussy. Your inner walls clench around him, drawing him deeper.
"That's it, sweetheart," he encourages, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. "Let me make you feel good."
His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl. You cry out, your grip on his hair tightening as pleasure courses through your veins.
"You're so tight," he groans, his own arousal evident in the way his hips grind against yours. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."
He adds a third finger, stretching you, preparing you for what's to come. Your body trembles on the edge of release, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.
Ayato's fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips buck against his hand, desperate for more friction, more pressure. You can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
"That's it, beautiful," Ayato muses, "Look so pretty like this-"
His words, combined with the skillful movements of his fingers, are enough to send you over the edge. Your body tenses, your back arching off the counter as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cry out, your inner walls clenching around Ayato's fingers as you ride out the intense sensations.
Ayato doesn't stop, continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. As you start to come down from your high, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips.
"Mmm, you taste so sweet," he murmurs, licking your essence from his fingers. "I could do that forever if you let me."
Before you can catch your breath, he's removing his own clothes, not taking long to reveal his hard, throbbing cock.
"Need to be inside you-" he groans, his hands gripping your hips. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."
He steps between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance.
Ayato slowly pushes into you, his cock stretching you deliciously. You moan at the sensation of being filled, your walls clenching around him. He groans at the tight heat enveloping him, his hips pressing forward until he's fully seated inside you.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. "So perfect."
He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the embers of your desire once more.
Ayato's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust designed to bring you maximum pleasure. His hands roam over your body, caressing every curve and dip as he loses himself in the feel of you.
"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."
His words, coupled with the tender way he makes love to you, bring tears to your eyes. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him.
"Show me," you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair. "Show me how much you love me."
Ayato's response is to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he continues to move within you. The kiss is slow and sensual, a reflection of the intimate act you're sharing.
"I'll always love you," he vows against your lips. "Always."
As he speaks, his thrusts become more urgent, more passionate. You can feel the coil of pleasure building once more in your core, your body responding to his every move.
Ayato's thrusts become more urgent, more passionate, as he loses himself in the feel of you. But even as he chases his own pleasure, his mind is filled with thoughts of the future, of the life you'll build together.
"I want this," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want us, together, forever. I want to wake up next to you every morning, to come home to you every night."
His hand slides down to your stomach, pressing gently against the soft skin. "I want to see you round with my child, to watch you grow and change as our family grows."
The thought sends a shiver of excitement through you, and you cling to him tighter, your hips meeting his thrust for thrust. “I want that too-”
Ayato's response is a low growl, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he pounds into you, chasing his release.
Ayato's thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, as he chases his climax. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he drives into you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every stroke.
"I'm close," he grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I want to fill you up, to mark you as mine."
His words send a thrill through you, and you clench around him, urging him on. "Yes," you gasp, "Please-"
With a final, powerful thrust, Ayato buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his cum deep inside you. The sensation of his hot release triggers your own orgasm.
As Ayato empties himself inside you, your walls clench and flutter around his cock, milking him for every last drop. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your juices gush around his length, coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs.
"Fuck, yes," Ayato groans, his hips twitching as he feels your release, his hips grinding against yours as he rides out the waves of pleasure. "Take it all, baby. Take all of me."
He continues to thrust shallowly, drawing out your climax, his own cock pulsing with aftershocks. Your inner walls ripple around him, squeezing him tightly as you ride out the intense sensations.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and appreciative. "So perfect, like you were made for me, weren't you?"
As the last waves of pleasure subside, Ayato leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you as his own. You moan into the kiss, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer.
The kiss is slow and sensual, a reflection of the intimate act you've just shared. Ayato's hands roam over your body, caressing your curves, your skin still slick with sweat.
"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."
You smile against his mouth, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you too," you whisper back. "Always and forever."
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જ⁀ when you take care of him - 1.9k
Wriothesley leaned back against the pillows, a picture of reluctant vulnerability—a rare sight, his usual sharp confidence dulled by the grip of a stubborn cold. He’d fought tooth and nail to convince you he didn’t need anyone fussing over him, but his protests had crumbled under your firm insistence. So now, he was stuck with you at his bedside, his gruff pride no match for your stubborn resolve.
You place a tray alongside him, holding soup, and a few other remedies. "Alright, let's get you sorted," you said, scooping up a spoonful of broth and extending it toward him.
He looked back at you, his brow furrowed with stubborn defiance, but you only hitched an eyebrow in silence.
He let out a long, aggrieved sigh and grumbled under his breath before he leaned forward and took the spoonful, holding it longer in his mouth than was really necessary, his eyes latched onto yours. His cheeks already flushed with fever, coloured a fraction darker, but he acted like he didn't notice.
"See? That wasn't so bad," you teased your voice soft as you reached up to sweep a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
His jaw clenched, and he cleared his throat, looking away as if the ceiling had suddenly become fascinating. Something about the way you touched him-so gentle, so deliberate-had him feeling unstably off-balance.
His pulse raced, a heat coiling low in his stomach, that left an evident reaction under the blankets that he desperately tried to will away. Mortified by his reaction, he reached for a cushion and shifted it onto his lap, with forced nonchalance.
"You don't need to babysit me," he grumbled, his voice hoarse, and he refused to meet your gaze. "I'll be alright. You've got much more important things to attend to."
“Oh, nice try,” you replied with a wry smile, holding another spoonful toward him. “You’re stuck with me until I’m satisfied that you’re actually resting. So stop pretending you’re not secretly grateful.”
His lips parted, but whatever retort he’d planned died on his tongue as he met your gaze. There was no teasing in your eyes now, only a quiet tenderness that made his chest tighten. You cared-truly-and it was overwhelming in a way he hadn't anticipated.
"Why are you doing all this?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, giving away a flicker of something unguarded.
You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the skin that flushed there. "Because you deserve it," you said, so simply. "Even if you're too stubborn to admit it."
He inhaled sharply, his hold on the cushion tightening as the touch of your hand warmed through him and sent a jolt of something far from comforting through him. His mind was racing as the tension betrayed his attempts to keep composed. The hell is wrong with him? He thought. This isn't supposed to feel like… this.
But you noticed. The way his jaw tensed, the subtle shift under the blankets—it was impossible to miss. A mischievous spark lit up in your eyes, and you leaned in just a fraction closer.
“Wrio,” you murmured, your tone laced with playful curiosity. “Are you… turned on right now?”
His head whipped toward you, his wide eyes betraying his panic. “What—no! I mean… maybe? Fuck, I don’t know,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.
You bit back a grin, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “Aww,” you cooed, your voice teasing. “The big, tough Warden, all flustered over a little care? How adorable.”
“Shut up,” he growled, his face burning crimson as he glared at you—though the heat in his gaze betrayed something far less menacing. "It's not like that."
"Oh, really?" you said, leaning in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Then what is it like, Wriothesley?"
He swallowed, his eyes darting to yours before dropping again. "It's... it's nothing," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "Just a stupid physical reaction, that's all."
"Mmm, I see," you hummed, reaching out to trace a finger down his jawline. "And by that, what you're trying to tell me is that right now it's not crossing your mind how nice it would feel to be taken care of by someone else? Make you feel better?"
He let out a shaking breath as his eyes darkened to meet yours. "I- I don't." he stammered, words trailing off as he fought for a coherent thought.
"It's alright," you whispered, a small smile on your lips. "I can see it in your eyes, Wriothesley. You want this, don't you? You want me to make you feel good."
His breath hitched, and his chest began to rise and fall more and more rapidly as he stared at you, pupils dilated with arousal. "Yes," he breathed, his voice rough from need. "God, yes, I do."
Your heart was racing, your own desire a mirror of his while you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. "Then let me take care of you," you murmured.
He emitted a low groan; his body quivered in anticipation. "Please," he whispered, voice raw with need. "Please, I need you."
You reached underneath the duvet, your fingers tracing over his hot skin, tracing the lines of his toned stomach. He shivered beneath your touch, breathing in short, ragged gasps as you explored his body.
"Fuck," he groaned, his hips bucking up against your hand. "That feels so good."
You smirked, your fingers dipping lower, teasing the waistband of his boxers. "Is that so?" you purred, your eyes glinting with mischief.
As you freed his throbbing cock from the confines of his boxers you couldn't help but marvel at the sight. His cock, thick and hard, proudly standing to attention. A drop of precum glistened from the tip of his cock, his need evident.
You swirled your thumb around the head, smearing the slick fluid and drawing a shudder from Wriothesley. "Mmm, look at you," you purred, low and husky.
He let out a choked noise, eyes fluttering shut as he fisted his hands in the sheets.
"Please," he pleaded, voice raw with need. "Please, touch me."
You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke from base to tip. His cock twitched in your hand, another drop of precum beading at the slit. He bucked against your hand, his hips rocking in time with your movements.
"That's it," you murmured, your thumb swiping over the sensitive head of his cock. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
He nodded, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to your touch. His body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as you worked him over.
You smirked, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the head of his cock. He shuddered beneath you, his hands fisting in your hair as you licked a slow stripe up his length.
"Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip.
With that, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down. He let out a strangled cry, his hips thrusting up to meet your movements.
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder, taking him deeper, your nose nestling into the hair at the base of his cock. He was throbbing in your mouth, his precum coating your tongue as you worked him over.
"Fuck-" he gasped, voice ragged with pleasure. "Your mouth feels amazing."
You hummed around his shaft, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.
As you continued to suck and lick at Wriothesley's throbbing cock, your free hand drifted lower, cupping his heavy balls. You rolled them gently in your palm, feeling their weight, savouring the way they twitched at your touch.
Wriothesley let out a low groan, his hips bucking up into your mouth. "Fuck, that feels good," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.
You hummed in return, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. Your fingers massaged his balls, delicate flesh kneaded as you worked him over.
He was leaking steadily now, his precum coating your tongue as you sucked him deeper. The taste of him filled your senses: musky, masculine. It was intoxicating - your own arousal growing with each passing second.
"God-" he panted, his hands fisting in your hair. "I'm getting close."
You redoubled your efforts, your head bobbing faster as you took him to the back of your throat. Your fingers squeezed his balls, feeling them draw up even tighter as his climax approached.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he warned, his voice ragged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
You moaned around his shaft, the vibrations pushing him over the edge. With one final thrust of his hips, he exploded in your mouth, ropes of cum filling your throat as he cried out in ecstasy.
You swallowed it all, milking him through his orgasm until he was spent and trembling beneath you. Finally, you released him from your mouth, licking your lips as you pulled back.
As Wriothesley came down from his high, you couldn't help but tease him just a little bit more. 
You lightly ran your tongue over the sensitive head of his cock, licking up the last of his release. He shuddered beneath you, his over-sensitive flesh twitching at every light touch.
"Ah!" he gasped, jerking his hips without meaning to. "Too much, I can't—"
You smirked, eyes glinting with mischief as you continued your sweet torment. Your tongue swirled around the tip and he whimpered, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tried to push you away, but you held firm, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from his spent body.
"I could do this all day." you purred, breath hot against his skin.
He let out a strangled laugh, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're a fucking tease," he grumbled, but there was no real heat behind his words.
You smiled, giving the head of his cock one final kiss before releasing him from your mouth. Sitting back, you licked your lips as you took in the view he presented-flush-cheeked, panting, eyes glossed over with satisfaction.
"Someone's gotta take care of you," you murmured, your voice husky. "And I'm more than willing to volunteer for the job."
You leaned down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Wriothesley's lips. He sighed into the kiss, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer. It was a tender moment, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had come before.
You drew back, staring into his eyes, the warmth and affection glowing within. "How are you feeling?" you asked, softly. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, and he smiled. His hand came up to overlay yours. "Better," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Much better, thanks to you."
You leaned in, nuzzling his nose with yours. "I aim to please," you teased, your eyes sparkling merrily.
He chuckled and shook his head in mock exasperation. "You're hopeless" he mumbled, but there was no mistaking the fondness in his tone.
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જ⁀ seeing you wearing his clothes - 2.6k
Neuvillette opened the door, exhaling softly as he stepped into the quiet of his home. After a day full of formalities, courtroom battles, and endless patience, the relief of finally being in his own space was palpable.
He set his coat aside, running a hand through his hair to loosen the constraints of his usually perfect appearance. But as he looked up, whatever was left of his exhaustion was washed clean by the sight of you curled up on the couch in one of his shirts.
You looked up and smiled softly, but the sight of you in his clothes, settled comfortably into his personal space, had him frozen in place. The shirt fell just a little too loose on your frame, sleeves slipping past your wrists, and the hem brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough to spark his desire. The scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the fabric, mingling with your own warmth, making something in him stir deeply.
A glint of intensity appeared in his eyes as he took a slow step forward, watching as your expression shifted, noticing the effect you’d unknowingly had on him. His gaze grew darker, the usual restraint crumbling as he drank in the sight of you in his clothes—his shirt, on you.
“You… have no idea what that does to me,” he murmured, his voice deepening with a possessive edge as he came to stand over you. His eyes roamed slowly from the collar falling off one shoulder to your bare legs curled beneath you.
Before you could respond, he was leaning down, caging you in his arms, his hands gripping the back of the couch as he hovered close, his breath warm against your ear. “It suits you, you know,” he whispered, his voice a blend of softness and possessive heat. “But you know what else? I think I’d rather be peeling it off you.”
His hands slid around your waist, tugging you closer as his lips grazed your neck in a mix of reverence and need. The weariness of his day forgotten, overcome by that fire that urged him to make sure you knew just how much you belonged to him.
"Don't move," he whispered, his voice raw as he pressed you against him. "I need this-
His fingers traced your waist, savouring the feel of soft fabric clinging to your form, but even more so, the sensation of you underneath. You could feel his heartbeat against you, the strong, steady rhythm betraying his calm exterior as his lips found a place on your shoulder- your neck, lingering as if to imprint this moment to memory.
Your hands lightly rested against his chest as he pressed closer, his eyes going dark, unguarded in the display of how far his longing had overcome him. "Every time I come home, I find myself hoping to see you like this," he murmured, voice low and husky. "So close… so undeniably mine.
His eyes, with fierce tenderness, burned as his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, angling your face up to meet his. For a moment longer, his eyes held yours before he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both possessive and fiercely tender.
Neuvillette's hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer, as his lips moved against yours with a fervour that bordered on desperation. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and when you granted him access, he deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with yours.
"You taste like home," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "Like everything I've ever wanted."
His hands roamed over your body, caressing the curves he knew so well.
His hands slid up your sides, tracing the hem of the shirt as it brushed against your thighs. "You look so beautiful like this, so perfectly mine."
He leaned in, nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply. "I want to make love to you, right here, with you wearing nothing but my shirt."
His hands slipped under the fabric, caressing your skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever he touched.
Neuvillette's hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he claimed your mouth in another searing kiss. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss.
He carried you towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours, his hands gripping your thighs possessively. When he reached the bed, he laid you down gently, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress.
"You drive me wild," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "Seeing you in my shirt, wearing my scent... it's almost too much to bear."
His hands slid under the shirt, caressing your skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever he touched. He trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point, making you gasp.
"I need you," he growled, his voice rough with need. "I need to be inside you, to claim you, to make you mine in every way possible."
His hands slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your breasts. He dipped his head, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until it hardened under his touch. His other hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your folds, teasing you slowly.
Neuvillette's lips closed around your nipple, his tongue swirling and flicking against the sensitive bud. His hand continued to stroke you, his fingers teasing your folds, dipping inside you slowly.
He could feel your breath hitching, your body arching into his touch. He released your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the wet skin, making you shiver.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "So responsive, so beautiful."
His hand slid up your body, pushing the shirt higher, exposing more of your skin. He kissed a trail up your sternum, his lips brushing the underside of your chin before capturing your mouth in another deep, passionate kiss.
His fingers continued their teasing dance between your legs, stroking and circling, building the tension within you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your body begging for more.
"Tell me how I can please you." he whispered against your lips.
Neuvillette's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at you, his hand still teasing your folds. "Anything, mon amour," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I would do anything to please you, to make you feel good."
His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He captured your earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently. "I want to worship every inch of you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. 
His fingers continued their skilled ministrations, stroking and teasing, building the tension within you. He could feel your hips rocking against his hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure.
"That's it, mon amour," he encouraged, his voice low and husky. "Let go, let yourself feel everything. I've got you.”
Neuvillette's fingers glided expertly through your slick folds, teasing and stroking, building the tension within you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild with desire.
His thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure. At the same time, two of his fingers pushed inside you, curling upwards to stroke that spot deep within that made your toes curl.
He set a steady rhythm, his fingers moving in and out, in and out, his thumb continuing its maddening circles. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your body responding to his touch.
He angled his fingers slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. His thumb increased its pressure on your clit, rubbing in tight circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"You're so beautiful when you're lost in pleasure," he growled, his own desire evident in his voice.
"Wanna make you feel good too-"
He rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so that your pussy was hovering right above his mouth and you were met with his crotch.
Neuvillette's eyes darkened with lust as he gazed up at you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. "Then take what you need, mon amour," he growled, his voice muffled against your core.
He pulled you down, his tongue delving between your folds, licking and sucking, tasting your essence. His hands gripped your ass, holding you in place.
You reached down, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers. His thick, hard cock sprang free, the tip already glistening with precum.
Neuvillette's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly. "Please-" he groaned, his hips bucking up into your touch.
You lowered your head, your tongue flicking out to lick the precum from the tip of his cock. Neuvillette groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you closer.
You wrapped your lips around his thick shaft, taking him deep into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, sucking and licking, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth.
Neuvillette's hips rocked up to meet your movements, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Yes, just like that," he groaned.
Neuvillette moaned into your folds as he lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him, his fingers digging into your flesh.
He could feel your juices coating his tongue, your scent filling his senses, driving him wild with desire. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep inside you.
His nose brushed against your clit as he buried his face deeper, his tongue curling to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. He could feel you trembling above him, your moans filling the room.
"Come for me, mon amour," he growled against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "Let go, let me feel you."
He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers pumping in and out of you, faster and harder.
He could feel your thighs trembling against his face, your moans growing louder, more desperate. He knew you were close, could feel your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.
"That's it, mon amour," he growled, his voice muffled against your folds.
Neuvillette felt your body tense above him, your walls clamping down around his fingers as your orgasm crashed over you. He lapped at your clit, prolonging your pleasure, his fingers gentling their movements as you rode out the waves of your climax.
He continued to lap at your folds, cleaning up your cum, his tongue swirling and flicking, bringing you down from your high.
But Neuvillette remained strong, not letting himself get close, wanting to finish inside you.
As you came down from your high, Neuvillette slowly released your thighs, his hands caressing your skin as he pulled back. His cock throbbed, aching for release, but he ignored it, his focus solely on your pleasure.
He sat up, turning you around and pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the flavour mingling with his own unique taste.
"I need to be inside you," he growled against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel you, all of you."
He laid you back on the bed, his body covering yours, his cock nestling against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, seeking permission, seeking connection.
You nod.
With a slow, steady push, he sank into you, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length.
"Ah, sweetheart-" he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "You feel incredible, so tight, so perfect."
He began to move, his hips rocking against yours, his cock sliding in and out of your slick heat. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he thrust into you, deeper and harder with each movement.
"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I love you so so much-"
His pace increased, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he chased his release. His fingers dug into your hips, leaving marks of his passion, his possession.
Neuvillette's teeth sank into your shoulder, marking you as his, as he thrust into you with wild abandon. His hips slammed against yours, his cock driving deep inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.
"Mine," he growled, his voice low and possessive. "All mine, now and forever."
His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your body responding to his every move.
He angled his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you scream his name. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Come with me, angel" he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Let me feel you."
Neuvillette could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside you. He redoubled his efforts, his hips slamming against yours, his fingers rubbing your clit harder, faster.
His teeth sank into your shoulder again, his mark claiming you, possessing you, as his thrusts became erratic, his movements losing their rhythm.
With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came, ropes of cum flooding you, your name a prayer on his lips.
As Neuvillette's orgasm crashed over him, you could feel your own release building, your walls clamping down around his pulsing cock. Your body trembled beneath him, your moans filling the room as you rode out the waves of your climax.
Your back arched off the bed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, holding him close as you came undone. Your inner walls rippled around his length, milking him, drawing out every last drop of his seed.
"Neuvillette!" you cried out, your voice breaking as the pleasure consumed you.
Neuvillette held you close, his arms wrapping around you, his body shaking with the force of his own release. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name over and over again.
Neuvillette held you close as you both came down from your highs, your bodies entwined, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal. He pressed soft kisses to your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, his lips trailing over your skin like a whisper.
"I love you, angel," he murmured, his voice low and tender. "I love you more than anything in this world."
He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. His hand stroked your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp.
"You are my everything," he whispered, his arms tightening around you. "My heart, my soul, my reason for being."
He closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he held you close, savouring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.
"Rest now, mon amour," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.
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જ⁀ watching you fight - 2.6k
The air heavy with the scent of battle and the sharp crackle of elemental energy. Wanderer’s movements were graceful and precise as always, his slender figure darting between foes with deadly elegance. But his focus wasn’t entirely on the fight.
No, his attention was locked on you.
You fought with a raw intensity, every strike you made sharp and calculated, every movement full of purpose. The way you moved, the way you commanded the space around you, was captivating. With every swing of your weapon, you demonstrated your strength and your resilience, your utter refusal to back down. The fire in your eyes was irresistible, and Wanderer couldn’t tear his gaze away from you.
Each time you dodged an attack, countered an enemy, or dispatched another foe with ease, his chest tightened with something he wasn’t quite used to—something primal.
He had always admired your strength, but this—this—was something different. The sight of your passion, your raw determination, made him ache with desire.
You caught his eye in the midst of a battle, and for a brief moment, the world around you seemed to disappear. He saw the way your lips curled in a confident, almost defiant smile as you took down an enemy, and it hit him like a jolt of electricity. His body tensed, a heat flooding his chest as he watched you finish the last enemy off with a powerful blow.
The battle ended in a flash of elemental power, and then there was silence. The only sound was your heavy breathing, while the air still hung heavy with the remnants of a fight. Wanderer didn't tear his eyes from you as he stared at the mess your hair was in, at the droplets of sweat glinting upon your skin. You were standing tall, victorious, and you radiated an undeniable strength that stirred something in him—a hunger he couldn’t push away.
You wiped the sweat from your brow, turning to face him with a breathless smile. “Not bad, huh?” you said, your voice teasing, but there was an edge of satisfaction in it.
Wanderer didn’t answer immediately. His eyes raked over you with an intensity that was impossible to miss. There was something about the way you fought, the way you carried yourself that made it impossible for him to ignore how turned on he was. He couldn’t shake the image of you fighting by his side, every graceful movement making his pulse race.
His eyes gleamed with something darker now, and when he spoke, his voice was rough, low, like he was tasting the words before they left his mouth.
“You have no idea,” he said, his gaze moving over you slowly, like a predator studying its prey. He let the words hang between you, heavy with intent. “The way you fight... the way you move, like nothing else matters but the battle... it’s...” He let out a soft, almost dismissive laugh, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice. “It’s intoxicating.”
His gaze drifted to the blood on your clothes, the way your chest heaved with each breath, the way your muscles flexed beneath the sweat and the grime of the fight. The blood—yours or theirs, it didn’t matter—only seemed to fuel the fire in his chest, igniting something that had been simmering beneath the surface.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you with purpose. “You look... different,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, a low growl in the back of his throat. “Tired, yes. But also more... alive.” His eyes locked with yours, holding your gaze, the unspoken words between you as thick as the sweat on your skin. “I can see it in your eyes—the rush, the satisfaction from victory.”
You could feel his presence closing in, his body just a hair’s breadth away from yours, his every movement sharp and deliberate. There was no longer any space between you two, the battlefield forgotten, the dead enemies fading into the background as he loomed over you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.
He was studying you now, watching the way your body reacted to his proximity, the slight catch in your breath as you stood tall, still proud in your exhaustion. Wanderer leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.
“Is that what you wanted, doll?” His voice was a whisper, but it was filled with a hunger that made your heart race. “For me to look at you like this? Wanting you, seeing you in a way that’s... less respectful and more... desperate.”
A shudder ran through you at the sound of his voice, at the words that lingered in the air between you two. You wanted to push him away, but your body—your senses—were screaming for more. This was different. This was dangerous, thrilling, and you couldn’t deny the pull.
He reached out, his fingers grazing along your jawline, tracing the curve of your cheek. The touch was light, almost feather-soft, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, making your skin tingle with anticipation.
“But I think we both know that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” His voice was a purr, a low, seductive sound that made your heart race. “To be seen, to be desired, to be... wanted.”
He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You could feel the heat of his breath, the weight of his gaze as it bore into you. “Well I want you-”
His hand slid down your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging gently. “So tell me, are you ready to give in? To let me have my way with you, right here, right now, where anyone could see?”
His other hand trailed down your side, his touch possessive, claiming. He was so close, his body pressed against yours, his desire palpable in the air between you.
You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, the hardness of his muscles, the way he seemed to radiate power and hunger. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body responding to his touch even as your mind screamed at you to resist.
But you couldn’t. Not when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Like he wanted to devour you, to consume you, to make you his in every way possible.
So you surrendered, your lips parting in a silent invitation, your body arching into his touch. And as his lips crashed against yours, you knew that there was no going back and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, a sharp, sudden sting that made him gasp. His eyes widened in surprise, then darkened with desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
"Fuck," he breathed, the word muffled against your mouth. "So eager, aren't you?"
His hands tightened in your hair, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.
"That how you wanna’ play it, huh?" he murmured, his voice husky, laced with promise. He nipped at your lip in retaliation, a quick, sharp bite that sent sparks of pleasure-pain racing down your spine.
His hands roamed your body, mapping out your curves. He cupped one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt, teasing, taunting.
He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached for the waistband of your pants. His fingers hooked into the fabric, and with a swift, practised motion, he tugged them down, letting them pool around your ankles.
You stepped out of them, now clad in just your shirt and underwear. The cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Scaramouche's gaze as it raked over your body.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "I could just eat you up."
His hands slid up your legs, his touch searing even through the thin fabric of your panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, tugging them down slowly, teasingly.
As he revealed you to him, inch by tantalising inch, his breath hitched. "God, look at you," he murmured, his voice reverent, awed. "So fucking perfect."
His hands mapped out your thighs, your hips, your stomach, worshipping every curve, every dip. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your hipbone, then trailing his lips lower.
"Gonna make you feel so good, baby," he promised, his voice a dark, seductive purr. "Gonna make you forget everything but the feeling of my mouth on you."
And with that, he sealed his lips over your clit, and the world fell away, leaving only sensation, only pleasure, only him.
His tongue traced the seam of your folds, a slow, deliberate stroke that sent shivers racing up your spine. He savoured the taste of you, the musky sweetness that was uniquely yours. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he explored every inch of you.
He started with broad strokes, his tongue lapping at your folds, coating them with his saliva. Then, with agonising slowness, he zeroed in on your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, teasing, tormenting.
"Mmm, you taste divine," he purred, his voice muffled against your flesh. "I could spend hours just worshipping this pretty little pussy."
He punctuated his words with a long, slow lick, from your entrance to your clit, savoring every drop of your essence. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you gasp and arch your hips.
His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth. He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, hard, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through you.
"That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Let me hear you. Let the whole world know how good I make you feel."
He redoubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, driving you higher and higher, closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs trembled, your abs clenched, and you could feel the pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
"Come for me, doll" he purred.
And with a final, hard suck on your clit, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing, your juices flooding his mouth as he lapped them up greedily, prolonging your pleasure.
He didn't stop until he was sure you were spent, until the last aftershocks had faded away. Only then did he pull back, his chin glistening with your essence, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
He grabbed your hips, spinning you around with surprising strength. Before you could react, he had you pressed against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his body flush against your back.
His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to cup your breast, kneading it roughly. The other slid between your legs, fingers delving into your still-slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit.
He thrust two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly, torturously. His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles around it, making you gasp and arch into his touch.
"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his voice a dark, seductive rumble.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. His teeth grazed your flesh, not quite breaking the skin, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain through you.
His free hand moved to his pants, undoing them with practised ease. The sound of a zipper being pulled down seemed impossibly loud in the quiet of the forest. Then, he was tugging his cock free, the hard length pressing against your ass.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, grinding against you. "So fucking perfect."
He lined himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick folds.
"Last chance to back out, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
He waited, his body tense, poised on the edge of control. He wanted you, needed you, but he would wait. He would give you one last chance to refuse him, to deny him what he craved most.
But deep down, he knew you wouldn't. He could see the desire in your eyes, the need, the hunger. You wanted this just as much as he did, and he could feel it in the way your body trembled against his, the way your hips canted back, silently begging for more.
"Please what, baby?" he purred, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Please fuck you?"
He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin.
"Or please stop?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing taunt. "Please don't give you what you so desperately need?"
The tip slowly pushed through your folds, but no more. He was so big, so hard, you knew he'd completely stretch you open.
“Stop being an idiot and fuck me-” you muttered.
With a low chuckle, he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "So fucking tight."
He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the forest, mingling with your mutual moans and gasps.
He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building higher and higher, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Let me hear you. Let the whole damn world know who’s fucking you-"
His thrusts grew harder, faster, more erratic. The pleasure was building, coiling tighter and tighter in his core, threatening to consume him entirely. He could feel you clenching around him, your walls fluttering and squeezing his cock.
"Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up. Gonna make you mine."
His hand slid down, fingers finding your clit. He rubbed tight, firm circles around the sensitive nub, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Come with me, baby," he demanded, his voice a dark, commanding growl.
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing and twitching as he filled you with his cum, sending you over the edge with him.
You came with a scream, your body convulsing and shaking in his arms. He held you close, his hips still rocking, prolonging your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of ecstasy.
"Fuck, yes," he panted, his voice ragged and raw. "That's my good girl."
He peppered your neck with kisses, his teeth grazing your skin. "You did so well, baby.”
He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, savouring the feeling of your body wrapped around his. Finally, with a soft groan, he pulled out, his now softening cock slipping from your pussy.
"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "And then maybe round two when we're inside, hmm?"
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reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3
© lovecuprite → do not copy or translate any of my works
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rinasauruss · 10 days ago
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closer than quiet
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summary: Rafe is so tall he has to lean down to hear you better. that's it.
warnings: none, me thinks. just a suggestive line at the end ;P
word count: 590
A/N: I couldn't help myself, so I wrote this blurb! this is my first time writing Rafe, let me know what you think! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. feedback is appreciated!
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The soft hum of the waves was a steady background to the crackling of the bonfire, the flames dancing as the heat mixed with the cool bite of the night breeze. You stood near the fire, feeling the warmth spread through you, but the presence behind you was what made your skin tingle the most.
Rafe was close, an arm wrapped around your waist with a casual ease that made you feel both safe and exposed at the same time. His thumb traced slow, absent circles over your stomach, his other hand holding a beer with the same relaxed grip he used when he wasn’t thinking about much at all. Topper and Kelce were deep in conversation, their voices more distant than usual, as if the world around you had faded into something quieter. Rafe barely added to the chatter, content to stay in his own head—or maybe it was you who had his full attention. You weren’t sure, but it felt like you did.
You turned your head, looking up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You good?" You asked it quietly, as though you already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it anyway.
Rafe didn’t immediately respond, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. Instead, he leaned down, tilting his head as if to catch the softest whisper, even though you’d only spoken in your normal tone. His presence grew even more intense with the movement, his height hovering over you, his face drawing closer in that effortless, unspoken way that made you feel smaller and more drawn in with each inch.
"Hm?" His voice was low, just above a murmur, the sound of it vibrating through your chest.
You flushed at the gesture, a subtle warmth rising in your cheeks. His closeness, his height, the way he made the space around you feel like it shrank to just the two of you—it was disarming in the best way. His breath fanned over your skin, the warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine, and you could almost feel the heartbeat beneath his chest as he leaned in further.
You swallowed, your voice a little shakier this time. "You doing good?" You repeated, hoping your tone sounded steady, but there was no hiding the way he affected you.
Rafe’s grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he felt the slight hitch in your breath, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer. It was as though he knew exactly how much he was making you feel.
"Yeah, m'good, baby," he hummed, his voice deepening in that way it did when he was in his element. "Just thinking."
"About?" you asked, a whisper now, almost afraid to ask but too curious to hold back.
He tilted his head again, moving in just a little further, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The closeness, the heat of his breath, was enough to send a shiver all the way down your spine, leaving you breathless.
The moment stretched between you, charged with unspoken words and everything that lay beneath the surface. The bonfire crackled, the night air was cool, but Rafe’s presence was all you could feel now, the pull of him drawing you in further than you’d ever planned to go.
His voice was soft, smooth, laced with that teasing edge that always made your heart skip a beat. "Just thinking about how much fun I’m gonna have taking this little dress off you later."
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meownotgood · 17 days ago
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arcane season 2 spoilers
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"Can you feel anything?" 
Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet. 
It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you. 
And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood. 
He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense. 
It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold. 
Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to. 
Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive. 
Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty. 
Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away. 
Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it. 
Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures. 
Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.
So, he takes a chance. 
Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does. 
His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it. 
Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense. 
Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more. 
Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything? 
"Vik?" 
Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home. 
"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone. 
The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference. 
This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation. 
What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to? 
He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere? 
There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you. 
Can you feel anything? 
Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?" 
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