#and heat index makes it even hotter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

milkzoro · 1 year ago

Text

fuck around & find out

summary: y/n is curious to how aces devil fruit powers work

a/n: i wanted to do ace cuz first, uhmm that’s my man. and second!!! the vibes are sooo fall rn & i love the cold weather,,,, so enjoy <3

warnings: MDNI, pussy eating, backshots, cowgirl, soft!ace (i luv him)

☆彡

it’s the cold months on the ship that have you cravinggggg some warmth, whether that be from your heated blankets, your warm coffee in the mornings, or late night fires with the crew… you just loved the warmth, especially this time of year. the ocean was getting colder the more up north we sailed causing freezing mists to come up and hit the deck. you’ve been hanging around ace more often too, attracting to him like a moth to a lamp. while he was back on board, you took advantage of your friendly little flame~

you are laying together with ace all cuddled up and cozy in his bed, he has a campfire scented candle burning brightly in the corner of his room. admiring the man before you makes your tummy feel warm and nostalgic.

he has you so close, arms pressed side to side as you’re both laid against the pillows resting on the back of his headboard. one of his hands start to peak out of the blankets, he stretches his fingers before hyping you up, getting you ready for his next move. “mkay i call this,,,, wizard fingers.” you can never take him seriously, your cheeks are so sore from all the smiles he’s stolen from you. wizard fingers??? this can’t be real.

ace wiggles his fingers before you as you see each one of them ignite with small little flame. you giggle. “shouldn’t they be called lighter fingers? you literally look like you’re about to go burn a candle.” he groans next to you. “oh my god y/n. you didn’t let me finish!” you stare at his hands as he starts to manipulate each of the flames from his fingers.

he pulls four of them back into his fist leaving just his index finger ignited. the flame starts to form little letters. each flash was a letter from your name. flash. flash. flash. you smile even more, he’s such a dork.

“it’s pretty cool, i know.” he smirks “wasn’t like i was even practicing or anything.” you think he’s so full of himself but you can’t help but admire, he warms your heart. your cold hands are on his body as he still has you close. his powers are so interesting. all of this came from just eating a fruit? you can’t contain your thoughts as you think of all the possibilities, he’s so warm.

maybe it was the skin on skin that were feeding your delusions but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of what he feels like.

he tucks his hands back away under the covers moving to hold your hands in his. you still haven’t answered him, your mind was still deep in the clouds. “okay maybe i was practicing,, getting it legible was kinda hard.” he laughed and you felt his chest move against your arm. “hmm?” you recollect your thoughts. ace looks at you. “were you for real not listening, y/n. that was cool! right!?” he looks at you to make sure you are finding this entertaining. “ahh sorry just not thinking right haha-” you mumbled and he looked puzzled, he shifted under the blankets to wrap his arms around you and pull you in a hug. his chin rested on the top of your head. “what do you mean.” his body burned hotter trying to warm you up.

“jus thinking about you- err well your devil fruit powers.” you curse yourself. but glad that you’re faced with his chest instead so that he couldn’t see the embarrassment on your face right now. he laughed at you again. “what’s so special y/n. i just get warm. ‘m happy you like it though.” his arms tighten around you, squeezing you softly. your tummy was doing flips again, the way he had a grip on you sent shivers to your core. the feeling of his firm, scorching arms had you craving more from him. you knew he was teasing you though. he always would, he knew how much you loved his fiery touch and playful behaviors.

you’re face to face with him again, seeing red flames in his eyes. heat spreads to your face as his eyes lock on yours, waiting for any reaction from you. you’re lips hesitate to speak. “you- you get warm… everywhere?” your eyes avoid his. his hand gripped your thighs right below your ass, softly tugging on you to get your leg wrapped around his torso. you feel his hot fingers brushing away the stray hairs that were messily covering your face. it burned hot. his face proved that he found your embarrassment amusing.

“wanna find out?”

ace kisses you softly. his hot hand reaching up the softness of your shirt and leading themselves to your perked nipple. his hands are so rough, much different than the way his lips feel. he kisses the side of your mouth and whispers softly to you, “you’re still so cold?” he giggles as he watches you squirm at his touch.

“ace, your portholes are open. it’s fucking cold in here.” you whine trying to keep his heated fingers on you. his amused grin has you needy and irritated. you reach for his hands again. “just a second babe, let’s get ya shirt off.” ace helps to fully undress you with sturdy hands. a shiver leaves your body, covering you in goose bumps as the cool sea breeze hits your skin. “i’ll getcha all warmed up baby.”

he takes his hands and starts massaging the creases of your hips. kneading and pulling on your plush skin, slowly working his tepid hands all the way up your torso. the heaviness in his touch relieved so much within you, moaning at his warmth and his strength. he is manhandling you with you such softness and love.

hot palms come up to cup under your breasts tenderly, dipping his head down and sucking against your pretty nubs. his tongue swirls around each one leaving a string of warm saliva connecting from your buds to his lips. “are we gettin there, pretty? how do you feel?” wanting more, you pull him so that his chest meets yours. he buries his face into your neck and softly suckles. his breaths are hot there. “m still cold ace, wanna feel you” you whine for him.

his lips curl into a smile against your skin, he knew exactly what you craved. “how do you want it angel?” his clothed thigh pushes against your needy cunt, collecting many fifty whines from you. his fire ignited something warm inside of you, you need it to burn brighter.

his body shuffles down the bed, inching his face to be face to face with your sleep shorts. ace wants your juices dripping down his face, seeing you twitch for him has him starving. impatiently, he removes your shorts and panties, tossing them to the floor. he takes your hands with his own while he plays with you devilishly with his tongue, squeezing your palms slightly when he feels you try to move away.

his tongue attached to you like a magnet, chasing every move, he wouldn’t let you get away. he squeezes your hands again, “that’s it baby, such a good girl.” his tongue drawing little clouds on your swollen clit. “doin so good, can’t get enough of ya y/n~” he gulps all of your juices, sucking you clean. “haah- fuck acee. mm so close.” the tip of his nose brushed against the point of your clit as he slid his lips to your weeping hole, drinking even more of you.

he flicks back and forth from your hole to your clit with his tongue. removing one of his hands from yours, he reaches for the plump of your thigh. he squeezed harshly, assuring you to cum for him. his tongue moved swiftly with your slick allowing you to reach your orgasm. “ace! ‘m cuh- cumming!! shiiit right there haa-“ the sight of his glistening face sent an aftershock to your cunt, his smirk was so sexy while he was covered with your juices.

ace’s cock ached in his boxers, there were little dark spots littered across the fabric from his precum. “can ya do one more for me baby doll?” whimpers leave your lips while your head slightly nodded for him. “you did so good fa me y/a~ now you ready to feel this dick cupcake?”

your pussy was already sopping for him but still there was a little resistance when he slid into you. ace moaned breathily at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. “fuuu- shit y/n- feel so fuckin good mmmf~” his hot hands pushed down on your low back as your pussy was busy sucking around his cock.

your eyes watered at the shear width of him, he was spreading your sore cunt so deliciously. you felt your second orgasm start to form within your overstimulated core. he reached your cervix with one final slow push. once fully fitted around his length, you fucked back on him, slowly grinding your ass against his hard thighs.

ace tried to muffle his moans with his hand but you stripped them from him, he couldn’t be quiet. his deep moans echoed in his small cabin, ricocheting deep in your pulsating cunt. you throbbed for him, he curved upwards directly hitting your sensitive spot. ace gripped both sides of your ass to speed up his pace. pulling you hard against his reckless thrusts. he was getting sloppy. each thrust was met with the clapping of your cheeks on him, he groaned with each contact hit.

“wanna look atcha-“ he flipped you around to face him. you whined at the sudden emptiness but sighed as he soon filled you back up again. “don’t worry mama, wasn’t gonna take it from you.”

his voice was going blurry in your ears, dick so good you’re hearing auditory hallucinations. he took hold of your hips again while you sat on top of him, he rocks against you slowly.

you miss his mouth, his warmth~ wanna taste him again. your arms detach from his shoulders to hang loose around his neck, forehead rested against his while he fucks up into you. you’re ready, you wanna cum around him. pussy numb from feeling his tip abuse your cervix. “mm so close ace, please fuck me-” nonsense spilling from your lips, he is fucking you dumb.

your eyes are heavy as you try to line your lips up with his, drool sliding around both of your faces. he connects with you and sucks feverishly on your swollen lips. ace begins to pull you up and down on his veiny cock, bouncing you sporadically. the tightness in your eyes not helping you postpone your orgasm. “mmm ahh huhh- f-fuckk gonna- agh i’m cumming baby!!!!” the pleasure washes over you like a tsunami, it’s almost too much. your legs start to tremble as you effortlessly squeeze and clench around his width. “fuck cum in me ace- warm me up~” your wall’s are contracting around his poor, twitching cock while you milk him~ his breaths were shaky and irregular as he chased his own release.

“y/nnn-“ his husky voice filled your ears as you saw him cum inside of you. hips shuttering as his orgasm strikes him. pretty black hair sticking to the beads of sweat stuck to his forehead, his eyes tightened as he grunted out your name a few more times. glistening before you, he looked so ethereal..

* we are cuddling and warm and soo in luv !!! *

#one piece smut #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace smut #ace smut #one piece x reader

3K notes · View notes

yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

Text

DOUBLE PUNISHING PLEASURE - KUAI LIANG AND BI HAN X AFAB READER

Synopsis : you were one of the Lin Kuei ninjas, but you were a poorly raised brat, often making Bi Han angry on purpose, so he decided to get back at you along with his brother.

TW: Double penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, blowjob M!receive, degradation, asphyxiation, saliva, pet names, submission, master!kink, porn plot, smut, nsfw, punishment, afab reader, power play.

A/N: I did this after seeing a horny comment that would fuck these two, so here's this sinful shit for you guys.

Kuai Liang is the lines marked in orange and Bi Han is marked in blue.

You were thrown hard against the wall of the empty training room, the pain in your back from the impact showed signs immediately, your flesh tingled as you saw the tall figure of Bi Han, your grandmaster, you two didn't get along, Bi Han was the typical brutish and authoritarian leader which made you irritate him with small actions being rebellious with his orders was the main one but this time, even you recognized that you had crossed the line by purposely disrupting a clan mission.

"-I'm tired of this shit (Y/N), you're a fucking brat I've tolerated your behavior for too long." -Bi Han shouts at you, pointing his index finger in your face, obviously he was very angry with you. Soon Kuai Liang also appeared, upset but a little calmer.

"-Calm down Bi Han, I think (Y/N) also made a mistake but let's maintain control and find a punishment that matches the mistake that was made." -Kuai spoke calmly, smiling sideways with a predatory and lustful look at you. "-After all, (Y/N) may be a brat, but he's/she's a cute brat." -He completed by placing his warm, calloused hands on your shoulders, while Bi Han smiled sideways, with an extremely sadistic and dominant look, practically dripping with lust with each step he took towards you.

"-Oh yes, you finally have a good idea Liang, I think I have an idea for you (Y/N)." -Bi Han said, holding your chin, squeezing the flesh of your face. "-You will accept and obey our commands like a good boy/girl right?" -He spoke in an authoritarian tone, with no room for discussion.

Bi Han knelt you down in front of him while Kuai locked the door.

"-You're going to be the fucking little slut you were born to be... Now..." -Bi Han quickly lowered his pants, enough for you to suck him, his dick jumped out of the black fabrics, his veins throbbed and a small, shallow path of hair could be seen below his navel going down to his groin. "-Suck my cock now, like the good slut you are." -Bi Han complemented in a growl, bringing your head to his dick, pushing with all strength and aggression your mouth to his dick, your lips forced themselves to accommodate the salty and musky taste that the grand master's dick had, while Kuai stood behind you, the yellow ninja's fingers traced waves on your pants, making designs on the edges while exposing and teasing your wet pussy, making Liang laugh at the result.

"-Do you get excited this early? I thought you were more of a brat than that (Y/N), you're just a pretty little slut in heat, aren't you?" -Kuai speaks in a murmur, while you saw him take off your pants, fully exposing your pussy.

Bi Han continued to thrust into your mouth, the hard length became even hotter with each erroneous but painful movement he made in your oral cavity, his pink glans hit your throat in a pattern, making you choke and cry with pleasure and pain, the burning of Bi Han's need to achieve his own release using you like this was inexplicably pleasurable but painful, but he didn't care, just smiling as he watched you cry on his dick.

"-You love having my cock in your mouth, don't you? Such a good little slut." -He growled with authority, as he grabbed your head with both hands, the tears that came out of his eyes only drove him to fuck you into oblivion even more.

"-Well, well, well, look at that sweet pussy. Just begging to be fucked, isn't it?" -Kuai Liang says smiling, running his fingers provocatively over your smooth folds, making you shiver. Liang knelt behind you, while using his tongue to pass through your smooth folds, on the outside of your pussy, first teasing your clitoris, he was going to give you pleasure, but he was going to torture you first. You moaned against Bi Han's cock as you felt Liang eat you from the outside with his tongue, but Bi Han didn't let you move a muscle on his cock.

"-That's it, lick me and suck me anyway. You're doing great, my slut." -Bi Han spoke mockingly, pretending to be falsely proud of you, then he felt you suck him harder.

Kuai, getting tired of playing with your pussy on the outside, decided to fuck you another way, with his dick. He took off his pants quickly, while stroking his own member, he teased your clitoris again with the head of his cock, as he slowly pushed his length inside your wet and needy little hole, making you moan loudly against the ninja's cock. old man in front of you.

"-Don't worry, baby, I'm going to give that pussy the pounding it wants, you're going to take every inch of my cock, like a good boy/girl, aren't you?" -Liang spoke with a hoarse tone, while moaning lowly, grabbing your hips while squeezing the soft flesh on your sides, Bi Han didn't release you from his mouth, even though you choked until you hit his groin with your nose, smelling his woody soap that overflowed from the grand master's rough skin, while his cock curved into your throat, leaving you breathless for a few seconds.

"-Holy shit, you're a fucking Brat in heat, hungry for cum, aren't you? I'm going to fuck you so much that you won't be able to think about anything other than serving me." -He spoke between his teeth, freeing you from the cruel grip of the painful blowjob you gave him, after he came all over your tongue. But he soon grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks and telling you to open your mouth, even though you were too embarrassed to do such a task.

"-Open your mouth you cumslut, open that dirty mouth of my cum, now." -the grand master ordered, squeezing your cheeks even more, to the point of pain. Liang noticed this behind you, making him fuck your pussy even harder, making you feel him hitting your womb repeatedly, making you moan and open your mouth, making Bi Han smile satisfied as he watched his cum leak out of your mouth, running down your chin, lips and neck, with strands of saliva connecting to your teeth.

"-Such good little whore..." -With that he spat in your mouth, his saliva mixed with the semen he had on your tongue, telling you to swallow it all, which you quickly obeyed. Kuai took his dick out of your pussy, while he supported you in his arms, hugging your body as he put his throbbing dick inside you.

"-You love being fucked by a real man, don't you? Enjoying every inch of my thick cock deep inside your tight little hole." -Liang's desire grew with every movement of his hips, the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly bringing him closer to the edge.

Bi Han saw your tight butt hole, but already lubricated by your pussy juices, causing him to smile devilishly, as he took his dick to your second free hole, he entered painfully and quickly, widening you with a single thrust, while you she was shaking in Liang's arms, who just said: "-You're a good boy/girl, you'll handle everything, right?"

They both started to move at a steady pace, Bi Han's hips were bumping against his ass, while Kuai Liang's were against your pussy.

"-You're so good, baby, so tight and wet. Just how I like it, a good pet for my pleasure." -Bi Han said with an extremely sadistic smile while fucking her ass even harder. "-This is your fucking punishment for being such a fucking brat." -He added again, moaning hoarsely while you just moaned, feeling your two holes being filled by both men.

Without prior warning, Liang let out a loud moan, giving a few more thrusts into your pussy, enjoying the hot and sticky liquid on your soft walls.

"-Fuck (Y/N) so beautiful and tight, made me cum early." -Liang spoke softly, smiling as he saw your pussy tremble around his cock, but he soon pulled out, denying you the orgasm you wanted so much. Bi Han still fucked his ass while holding his hips, purposely hurting the sensitive flesh with loud, punishing spanks.

"-Just a little hole for my cum, craving my thick cock deep inside you."

Bi Han soon left you too, kneeling you again, your knees hurt from the impact with the hard floor, while you watched him jerk off quickly, just stimulating his already sensitive thick cock, while he held your face in place and cummed, dirtying your cheeks, lips and every area that Bi Han's sperm jets could reach, he slapped you hard on the face, while smiling satisfied.

"-Was that really necessary? The slap?" -Kuai says to Bi Han, who just laughed looking at you, a dirty, shaking mess on the floor, denied orgasms and marked by slaps and semen.

"-It was necessary for him/her to learn, wasn't it (Y/N)?" -Bi Han replied categorically, leaving the room while Kuai covered you with a sheet, giving you a quick pat on the head.

"-Maybe next time, if you're obedient, you'll be able to cum, okay?"

⸺It was up to you now, to decide to face both again and be punished or to be obedient and see what the future would bring you.

752 notes · View notes

playnextdoor · 7 months ago

Text

summary: chubby!reader x abby

warnings: kissing with lots of tongue, grinding, praise, mentions of readers body briefly, finger sucking (r!recieving), both pussy drunk lolllll, and very self indulgent...

abby’s heavy weight on you, thigh slotted into between your thighs, pressing delicious pressure on your core. her smell, the way her mouth and tongue moved with such precision, and the way she groaned in your mouth was driving you crazy. teeth clashing, trying to focus on your tongue but all you can do is let out pathetic whimpers.

"noisy today huh?" she whispers on top of your lips. you don't have to open your eyes to know that she's smirking, feeling it on your lips, and hearing it in her raspy voice. you feel your cheeks heat up, turning your head to the side as you don't dare to open your eyes to see that devious glint in her own eyes. she noses up your face, leaving feather-light kisses before licking near your lips.

"stop..." you say, barely a whisper. oh, does abby hear it but from how soft your voice was, a slight tremor in your voice made her feel her core grow hotter. she snakes her hand up before grabbing your face, squishing your cheeks. not a thought in your glossy half-lidded eyes, a little smile on your face from how pleasant this warm fuzzy feeling abby is giving you.

"look at me baby," the girl above you says, letting go of your face before slotting her index and middle fingers into your mouth. you gladly take them, letting the salvia pool and drip from the corner of your mouth as you hear the girl groan deeply. you open your eyes, meeting the gaze of abby’s clouded blue eyes, almost looking gray. her mouth was slightly opened, an expression of pure bliss but amazement is painted on her freckled flushed cheeks. "fuck babe.." is all she can say before she sticks them farther your warm mouth. you focus on your breathing so you don't choke, the rough pads of her fingers pressing into your tongue. you buck your hips, feeling the need to get some sort of friction.

"you got it, baby. be a good girl for me yeah?" abby says this as she slides her other hand down your body, caressing your tummy. she gropes and squishes the fat that was there on you that she loves. making her way to your clothed cunt, making a lingering contact with your soaked cunt.

"shit.. you're so wet," she can barely say before she removes her pruned fingers from your mouth and replaces it with her mouth. you let out a string of whimpers and whines as she licks up around your mouth. letting your guard down completely. she cups your warm heady cunt, pressing slightly, letting you soak your panties up even more.

"abby please," you whine, breaking the kiss, letting a thin line of saliva connect the two of you. you notice now that abby has been grinding against your thigh. feeling her legs cage your leg, small jutted movements to satisfy the ache that you caused.

"look at me," she says in a soft stern voice. "you're gonna let me fuck this pussy yeah? gonna be a good girl and let me hear ya? god, you're so cute" the blonde girl says as she hides her face in your neck, little nibbles and kisses littering your neck. you feel her hand go past the layer of cloth that prevented her from touching you. her hands gently caress the patch of hair that lays there before going to the place where you needed her the most.

a/n: im sorry i edged yall lol. lmk if you want a pt2. inbox is open for blurbs, concepts, ideas, and constructive criticism!

#lesbian #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson smut #tlou abby #abby tlou #wlw nsft #writers on tumblr #orion's writing

312 notes · View notes

mariasont · 8 months ago

Text

Our Minds Entwined-----------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7

MDNI !!!!!--------------------------------------------------------------------

pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid summary: in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest, youngest member warnings: soft dom spencer, sub oc, making out, sexual tension, age gap, fingering, dirty talk, i think that's it!

Chapter Six:

As the SUV rolled into the small, sunbaked town of Maricopa, Arizona, the heat hit them like a physical force. The town lay simmering under the relentless sun. The mercury had soared to a scorching 113, and the air summered with heatwaves rising from the parched earth. It had been weeks since Evelyn's last case, filled with a growing sense of belonging at the BAU, yet blemished by an internal battle against thoughts she deemed incredibly inappropriate--thoughts of Hotch and Reid.

As she stepped out into the furnace that was midday Arizona, the heat enveloped her like a suffocating blanket. She was clad in a light, sleeveless tank top that clung to her form, paired with loose-fitting cargo pants that allowed her some respite from the heat.

Behind her, Hotch and Reid were thankful their sunglasses hid the way their eyes followed the sight of Evelyn, her silhouette outlined against the harsh glare of the sun.

As Evelyn's gaze lingered on Spencer, the sight of his shirt sleeves casually rolled to his elbows, sent a warm shiver down her spine. She caught her breath, her teeth gently catching on her lip in a futile attempt to stop the fluttering in her chest. When he spoke, a dimple would flash momentarily on his cheek, a fleeting view that would leave her heart aching for more.

Her thoughts then turned to Hotch, whose commanding aura was accentuated by the way the heat caused his shirt to cling to his broad shoulders. She couldn't help but think of how he would look on top of her, pinning her own shoulders down. Even in the sweltering sun, he exuded an air of cool authority that was as compelling as it was intimidating.

Both equally alluring in their own right. It was a dangerous game, letting her mind wander like this.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the images. 'Focus,' she chided herself.

The sun bore down mercilessly on the small town of Maricopa, turning the air into a tangible curtain of heat. Evelyn wiped at her forehead, the fabric of her handkerchief quickly dampening as she exhaled a labored breath. "I knew it'd be hot, but this is like walking into an oven."

Hotch, his silhouette sharp against the blinding backdrop, offered a firm nod, the lines of his face set in stoic resolve.

"Focus on the case, Evelyn. The heat is just another variable to manage." Yet, even he seemed to succumb to the sweltering climate, his fingers deftly unfastening the top buttons of his shirt.

Evelyn's eyes traced the movement, a flush of embarrassment warming her cheeks even more as she imagined a completely different scenario.

God, she needed to get laid.

Spencer emerged last, his curls already beginning to curl from the oppressive humidity. "Actually, if we consider the heat index, it's more akin to a convection oven. The humidity amplifies the subjective temperature, making it feel even hotter."

Evelyn's smirk lingered as she absorbed Reid's attempt at reassurance. "Thanks, Reid. That's... oddly comforting," she quipped, the irony not lost on her.

The scene before them was a desolate stretch of road, a dusty turnout off a seldom-used highway. A lone car sat in the center; its paint job dulled by the sun's unforgiving rays.

Hotch's voice cut through the stillness. "Let's get to work. Keep an eye out for anything that might give us insight into the unsub's patterns."

The rest of the team was back with the local PD, leaving just the three of them to navigate the scene. They moved with precision, each step deliberate, documenting everything. The heat was a constant pressure, an invisible force that sought to overwhelm them.

Evelyn seemed almost like a mirage to Hotch and Reid. The fabric hugged her form as beads of sweat traced paths down her skin. As she leaned forward to inspect the car door, Spencer's attention by the curve of her breasts. He quickly redirected his thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.

"There's a discrepancy in the tire impressions," he began. "They're inconsistent with the victim's tire treads. It's possible we're looking a secondary vehicle, potentially the unsubs."

"The victim, Michael Torres, 34, he's far from his last known location at the diner. He was an accountant, no known enemies." Evelyn announces from memory, her gaze sweeping over the bleak scene, "but how did the unsub lure him out here? Especially if he brought his own car? How could he prevent the victim from just driving off? Going to the police station?"

"It's possible the unsub used a ruse to get Torries out here." Hotch suggested, his posture rigid as he folded his arms over his chest.

Spencer, his brow furrowed in concentration dragged his thumb across his bottom lip. "Or the unsub could have disabled the vehicle remotely after Torres arrived, preventing him from leaving."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed as she considered the implications. "That would require technical expertise," she mused aloud. "Do we have anything in his background that suggests he was targeted for his skills?"

Hotch shook his head gently. "Not that we've seen," he confirmed.

Evelyn's moment of contemplation was brief, her lips pursing in a thoughtful pout that captured the attention of both Spencer and Hotch. She reached for her phone and dialed Garcia.

"Tech Goddess Garcia, at your beck and call my queen," Penelope's voice rang out, a vibrant contrast to the arid scene around them.

Evelyn's laughter, light and unexpected, seemed to momentarily soften the edges of the harsh environment. "Hi, P. Can you cross-reference Michael Torres' financials? Look for any anomalies or recent tech purchases."

"On it, sug! I'll work my magic and get back to you," Garcia replied. Evelyn, with a smile playing on her lips, voiced her thanks before gently disconnecting the call.

"Also, let's consider the possibility of coercion. The unsub might have threatened someone Torres cared about," Spencer mused, his voice steady despite the heat that seemed to press upon them with an almost physical weight. Droplets of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his hair, now clung to his temples in damp curls.

"But there's no mention of a missing person connected to him," Evelyn countered.

"Right. Let's keep digging. The answer is here; we just need to connect the dots." A pause, then a slight tilt of his head towards Evelyn, Hotch's voice carrying the faintest hint of dry humor. "Let's get out of this heat, Evelyn looks like she's about to pass out."

Evelyn, caught off guard by the rare flicker of levity in Hotch's tone, stopped fanning herself. "Hey," she giggled, "I think the heat's getting to you too. You're starting to sound almost human." Her words were light, teasing, and in the vast expanse of the desert, she swore she caught a brief smile before he turned towards the SUV.

Inside the bustling precinct, the team gathered around a cluster of desks, papers and photographs spread out before them. Officers darted between the rows of desks, their voices a low murmur punctuated by the occasional crackle of radios. The conditioning was a welcome reprieve from the desert's furnace.

"Local PD says there's no pattern in victims' jobs or social circles. It's like the unsub is choosing them at random." Prentiss's voice cut through the buzz of the station.

Mirroring her team's attire, Prentiss donned a casual v-neck today, a file in her hand fanning the heat off her face. She paced the room, arms clasped behind her.

"There's gotta be a link," Morgan argues, his voice tinged with frustration. He stands firmly, his posture is assertive. His eyes, dark and focused, scan the team, seeking any sign of agreement, "unsubs don't just throw darts at a phone book."

"Unless we're dealing with a thrill killer. But this feels more... personal." Rossi spoke, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowed in thought.

Evelyn leaned forward, her gaze flitting across the faces of her colleagues, settling on Spencer's. "Three victims, three different lives. There has to be something that ties them together," she asserted.

"Well, they all suffered in that heat. Maybe that's our common thread--punishment." Prentiss suggests.

"Speaking of heat, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually missing those chilly Quantico mornings." Morgan manages with a wry smile.

Rossi, with a chuckle a knowing glance towards Morgan, retorts, "you? I recall a certain someone complaining all last winter."

Evelyn chimes in, her laughter crinkling the corners of her eyes as she gently shakes her head, "I think we can all agree, a little less sun and a little more snow wouldn't hurt."

The sound of a phone ringing cuts through their exchange. Evelyn glances at their caller ID and a smile forms on her lips, softening the tension in her jaw.

"Hi P, you're on with the team." Evelyn answers, switching to speaker. The device clicks and Garcia's voice spills into the room.

"Hello, my knights in standard-issue body armor! I have news," she announces, "all of the victims made purchases from a company called Key Innovations. They make those fancy remote car keys--like, the kind that can start your car from inside a building."

"That's our link." Hotch notes, " Get as much information as you can on the employees, Garcia. Evelyn, you're with me. We need to pay this Key Innovations a visit."

The SUV's engine hummed as it cut through the streets, a steady backdrop to the hush that had fallen over Evelyn and Hotch. She stole a glance at him, his profile etched with the usual stoicism, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses.

"You know," Evelyn began, her voice a soft flutter against the buzz of the AC, "I've never actually been to a company like Key Innovations. The tech must be pretty advanced, right? To remotely disable a car like that?"

Hotch's reply was curt, his gaze never leaving the road. "It's a specialized field. Their technology could be a critical piece of this case."

Evelyn's fingers danced over her badge, the metallic surface cool against her warm skin. "Right, right. Critical. It's just... well, it's fascinating, isn't it? How something designed to make life easier can be twisted into... this."

"It's often the case. Progress has it shadows." Hotch noted.

Evelyn, her hair coiled into a bun atop her head to escape the heat's caress, felt the air conditioning brush against the exposed nape of her neck. Hotch's gaze, though obscured, lingered a moment too long on the delicate curve.

"I've been meaning to ask--how do you stay so composed? With everything we see?" Evelyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Focus on the victims, the justice they deserve. It keeps things in perspective." Hotch replied, his voice steady.

"I guess I'm still learning that part," Evelyn sighed, "sometimes it all just feels overwhelming, amazing, but overwhelming."

"It takes time," Hotch says with a curt nod. "You're doing well."

"Thanks, sir. I just really love this job, you know? It's just that sometimes it feels like I'm running alongside professional athletes. And I'm just... me. I mean, I keep up, sure. I have my morning routine--high-protein breakfast, you know, eggs, Greek yogurt, the works. It's actually because of my anemia. Not a big deal, really. But it's like my own personal marathon every day, keeping pace with you guys."

Hotch remained silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving the road. Then, without turning, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"Agent, take a breath."

Evelyn's rambling came to an abrupt halt, and she let out a small, nervous laugh. "Right."

The sleek glass doors of Key Innovations slid open with a whisper, ushering Hotch and Evelyn into the cool, modern lobby. The receptionist looked up, a practiced smile ready on her lips, but it faltered and died under Hotch's firm gaze.

"I'm Special Agent Hotchner, and this is Special Agent Gideon. We need to speak with your CEO," Hotch announced, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space of the lobby as we presented our badges.

The receptionist nodded, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed the intercom button. "Mr. Landon, FBI agents are here to see you."

A voice crackled through, calm and collected. "Send them up."

As they ascended to the top floor, Evelyn's nerves buzzed. She watched Hotch, his every move exuding authority and purpose.

They were greeted by a man with sharp eyes that held a hint of caution and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Agents, I'm James Landon. What can I do for you?"

"We believe your products have been used in a series of murders. We need a list of customers who've purchased your remote car keys as well as your employees in the past six months," Hotch stated.

Landon's eyes flickered with concern, a shadow passing over his face. "Of course, I'll get that for you right away."

Minutes later, they poured over the list in a conference room. "Hotch," Evelyn points out, her finger tapping against a name on the list, "Look. Simon Travers, he processed the orders for all of the victims."

"Is Travers in the building?" Hotch questioned, his gaze never leaving the list.

Landon nodded, a hint of unease creeping into his eyes. "Yes, he's one of our programmers."

Travis was found in his office, a nest of gadgets and screen that hummed and blinked with a life of their own. His surprise at their presence was palpable, but he masked it quickly.

"Mr. Travers, we need you to come with us for questioning regarding the misuse of your company's products," Hotch state, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As Hotch and Evelyn escorted Simon Travers through the bustling corridors of Key Innovations, tensions hung in the air like static. Travers, with hands cuffed in front of him, a defiant tilt to his chin. He turned his head slightly towards Evelyn, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Must be my lucky day, getting arrested by such a pretty face," Travers smirked, his eyes raking over Evelyn in a way that made her skin crawl.

The comment sliced through the professional veneer of the moment, and Evelyn's stride didn't falter, but her eyes flashed with disapproval. Before she could respond, Hotch stepped slightly in front of her, his voice low and edged with a warning.

"Watch your mouth," he growled.

The interrogation room was awash with the harsh, unyielding glare of the overhead lights, which hummed incessantly above. They cast a clinical pallor on the team, their faces etched with the indelible marks of fatigue. Travers remained seated; his composure seemingly unshaken by the grueling hours of scrutiny.

In the midst of the tense atmosphere, Evelyn's yawn cut through the silence, a delicate yet unguarded moment that caught Spencer's attention. He couldn't help but watch her, the way her eyes fluttered closed slower than usual, her lashes casting long shadows down her cheeks, the way the corners of her mouth downturned in a soft frown of exhaustion. It was rare glimpse of vulnerability that Spencer found incredibly endearing, a contrast to her usual ball of energy.

Rossi, ever the observant one, caught the exchange and responded with a wry smile, "You know, in some culture, yawning is considered a sign of deep thinking. Or is it just your subtle way of saying we're boring you, Evelyn?"

Her tired eyes twinkled at the comment as she shot back, "If that were true, Rossi, I think we'd all be geniuses by now."

"We're done for tonight," Hotch declared, his voice devoid of his usual sharpness, worn down by the day's exertions. "he's not giving anything up."

"Because I have nothing to hide. I didn't do anything," Travers retorted, his voice unwavering.

Hotch let out a deep sigh, the sound heavy with the weight of a 14-hour deadlock. He rose from his chair, the movement sluggish, a signal to the oppressive heat that seeped into their bones. "Let's pack it up. We'll continue tomorrow."

The team's exhaustion was evident, Hotch's once crisp suit now clinging to his skin, tie loosened in a futile attempt to alleviate the sweltering heat. Evelyn's eyes were softened by the relentless temperature that mocked the coolness of the room's decor. As they collected their belongings, their movements slow, mechanical--each step was a battle against the invisible battle of the exhaustion and heat.

The hotel was a beacon of rest in the night, but as they arrived, the front desk clergy greeted them with an apologetic frown. "I'm sorry we're overbooked. You'll have to double up on rooms."

Hotch took the news in stride, quickly making arrangements for the team. "JJ and Prentiss, you're together. Rossi and Morgan, you've got a room. And Spencer, you're with Evelyn."

The hotel room door clicked shut behind Spencer and Evelyn, the sound echoing slightly in the compact space. They stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between them. The awkwardness skyrocketing as their gaze landed on the situation before them. One bed. Of course.

"I can take the floor," Spencer suggested, grabbing Evelyn's bag, setting it beside his own by the dresser.

Evelyn's response came with a dismissive wave, "don't be ridiculous, it's big enough, we can both take a side." Her voice carried her usual confidence, though her insides were aflutter with what that might mean. "Do you mind if I take the first shower?"

"Of course, go ahead. I'll just... um, go over the case notes again while you do that."

Evelyn nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the room. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he noticed the door slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of light within the bathroom.

With his case files before him as a cover, he watched as Evelyn stood in the crack, slipping her shirt gently over her head. Spencer knew he was supposed to look away, he knew that. Next came her bra, falling to the floor, leaving the slope of her back to Spencer, her hair dropping against the bare skin.

Spencer tore his gaze away as she reached for her pants, trailing a finger over the files with one hand and rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other. A few minutes later, the water stopped, an Evelyn emerged, a cloud of steam billowing out behind her. She hadn't realized the door hadn't closed fully, and Spencer quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to... I thought I closed the door."

"It's... it's fine. I didn't see anything." Spencer stumbled over his words, his hand instinctively reaching for the back of his neck.

Evelyn was now dressed in a tiny pair of pajamas, the fabric light and airy against her skin. It left nothing to the imagination, the shorts riding up with every step, her generous curves filling out all the right places, the outline of her nipples evident despite the heat.

"Well, I guess this is the one way to beat the heat, huh? These PJs are practically made of air." Evelyn joked as she ran a brush through her wet hair.

Spencer managed a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting anywhere but at Evelyn. "Yeah, the heat... it's definitely something."

Evelyn made her way across the room, tossing her hair into a loose ponytail, attempting to gain some relief off her neck. Her frame stopped at her bag, reaching down to neatly shove her clothes back in the duffel.

Spencer the flames rise to his cheeks as he attempted to keep his focus glued to the files before him. It took everything in him to not ogle the woman who stood in practically nothing and eventually his resolve didn't hold. He started at her ankles, rising slowly over her legs, taking his time, drinking her in. His eyes halted at the soft curve of her ass, God, he'd never seen an ass like that.

He cursed himself for thinking like that, for imagining his coworker, much younger coworker at that, in such a way. He felt like a pervert, imagining her in compromising positions, her hands braced against the dresser, his chest flush against her back.

Evelyn turned back towards the bed and Spencer covered his state with a clearing of his throat. She made her way to the bed, letting her bare legs slip under the comforter.

"Did you know," Spencer began, adjusting his glasses, "that the body is bioluminescent? We usually emit a small amount of light, but it's a thousand times weaker than the human eye can perceive."

"Well, if we start glowing any brighter, we might just save on the electricity bill," Evelyn quipped, a smirk playing on her lips as she tucked herself under the comforter. Her gaze lingering on his.

Spencer glanced at Evelyn, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "Actually, the human body could power a small light bulb with the energy it emits," he said.

Evelyn's laughter bubbled up uncontrollably at his response. She leaned in, tucking her head against his shoulder. Spencer's initial reaction was a slight stiffening, the unfamiliarity of the contact sending a jolt through him, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Evelyn settled into the bed, her body relaxing as she nestled her head into the soft pillow. Spencer, meanwhile, rose to dim the lights, leaving only the lamp beside him to cast a gentle glow across the room. He then rejoined her, sitting upright with the case files spread before him, his mind still entrenched in the details.

"Spence, it's late," Evelyn murmured, her voice tinged with concern. "You can go over that in the morning. You need rest."

He glanced at her, the faintest hint of a weary smile on his lips. "The mind has a remarkable capacity for nocturnal problem-solving," he replied, his gaze returning to the papers.

Evelyn sighed softly. "So, where do we go from here then?" she asked, shifting to face him.

"We keep interrogating him," Spencer explained, "we'll use the profile, find the leverage points and get inside his head. It's only a matter of time."

As he spoke, Evelyn's leg accidentally brushed against his. A flush of warmth spread across her cheeks, but Spencer seemed unfazed, his focus unbroken as he continued detailing their strategy.

Evelyn felt her eyes drift closed, the steady hum of his voice washing over her. The file slipped from Spencer's fingers as his eyes followed Evelyn's movement, the sheets rustling as she pulled them around her, hair falling against her neck, the tips tickling the exposed flesh.

He was suddenly very aware of how close she was, his thoughts turning from the case, his mind solely on her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she burrowed deeper into the blankets, the soft light framing her face, her long lashes fluttering. He let his gaze roam over her, his heart stuttering as her legs brushed his again. His heart beat a rapid rhythm in his chest, his hands fisting the sheets as his body responded to the contact.

He reached over to the lamp, flicking it off as he let the darkness envelop them both.

The night had deepened into its quietest hours. Spencer's eyes fluttered open to a soft sound, a distant echo that seemed out of place in the stillness. As his senses sharpened, he became acutely aware of the warmth against him, the gentle rise and fall of Evelyn's breathing. At some point during the night, they had gravitated towards each other, his hands planted firmly against her back and ass.

He quickly redacted his touch, palming through his hair as he made out the peaceful expression on her face. Her features softened in her sleep, her lips parted slightly, her arm rested on the pillow next to this, hand splayed open.

"Spencer," Evelyn whispered.

Spencer's gaze widened; she was still asleep. Compelled by a force he couldn't name, his hand sought hers, fingers intertwining with a gentleness that belied his racing heart.

Evelyn's moan drifted into the silence. The sound sending an unexpected pleasure through him. His hold on her involuntarily tightened. His eyes darted back to her, breath lodged in his throat, as he became acutely aware of the peaks of her breasts poking through her top.

Once more, she stirred, her breasts drawing close, her back arching ever so slightly. She was having a sex dream, he realized. Her leg swept across the sheets, sending a soft graze of her knee against his. He sucked in a breath as he felt the familiar surge of arousal, his cock hardening as his name fell from her lips again.

A hushed moan parted her lips once more as she shifted relentlessly, writhing softly. Finally settling her ass firmly in the nook of his front. Spencer exhaled a shaky breath, his hands gravitating to her hips with an urgency that betrayed him, fingers pressing into the fabric of her shorts in an attempt to still her movements.

This was wrong, he thought to himself, willing rational thought to take over. It felt like a betrayal to even entertain the thought, a silent war waged in the recesses of his mind. She laid before him, not just a coworker but a friend, one at least seven years his junior. And yet, the blood rushing to his cock and Evelyn's parted lips calling his name seemed to cut his IQ in half. A fog descending over his reason.

A wave of desperation guided his free hand up the delicate curve of her neck, entwining with the curls at her nape, pulling her closer into his chest. Evelyn's eyelids lifted slowly, a drowsy haze giving way to clarity as she registered the hold. The reality of their closeness, the arousal coursing through her, and the slickness between her thighs washed over her.

Her voice was a soft tremor in the stillness, "Spence," she whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty, now fully awake.

"Seems like you were having a bad dream, Evelyn," Spencer murmured, his fingers gently coaxing her hair, drawing her into the warmth of his breath, his lips hovering close, "the mind has a peculiar way of weaving narratives when we're most vulnerable."

A wave of warmth surged to her cheeks, the dream's vivid memories flooding her senses, each one starring him. She found herself momentarily breathless as her body instinctively softened against his. Her thighs clenching, seeking to soothe the deepening ache that thrummed through her every heartbeat.

Words deserted her, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind as his fingers sketched a path along her hip, coming to a deliberate pause on the tender skin of her inner thigh, tantalizingly close to where she needed him to be. Her hand swept back in a natural arc, fingers threading through his hair, securing a tender hold as his lips brushed softly against the crease of her neck.

His fingers danced along the canvas of her thighs, igniting a yearning within her that propelled her body against his, driven by a fervent desire to diminish the space between them. Her panties were reduced to a soaking mess.

His fingers danced on her wrist, her body pushing into his in a desperate attempt to be closer.

"Tell me to stop." His plea unfurled in the hush, raspy and laden with sleep, as if each word was a desperate clawing against the silence. "Tell me to stop, Evelyn, because I think if I don't now, I'll never be able to."

"Spencer, please," came Evelyn's soft murmur, not even sure what she was asking for.

Her fingers curled tighter into the soft rebellion of his hair as she pivoted to face him, her gaze delving into his, drinking in the sight, absorbing every line, every contour. His eyes, wide and ravenous, betrayed a longing as palpable as the hands that ached to trace her every curve.

Her soft utterance was all the invitation he needed; his hands framed her face like a cherished verse, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both reckless and rooted in need. His fingers made its way between them, as he flipped her onto her back, his body towering over hers. Evelyn gasped into his mouth as his fingers drew delicate circles on her clit, her body instinctively rising in an arch to meld with his.

"God, you're so fucking wet, Evelyn." His obscene words only seemed to amplify the problem, prompting her thighs to clench together, but his hands prevented her from doing so. A moan was her only response, her hands reaching out to desperately cling to him, distrustful of her ability to speak.

"You want me to make you feel good?" He questions, his fingers teasing Evelyn's entrance, tracing up and down her slit. Evelyn's nod was fraught with urgency, her head tilting back, surrendering to the softness of the pillow. Her fingers twisted into the sheets, gripping them tightly. "I know, princess."

His fingers plunged into her wetness, her moan coming out as a sob of relief. Her hands found their way around his neck as her hips grinded against the palm of his hand. A ghost of a smirk played on Spencer's lips at the reaction. His lips found her neck, settling at the sensitive flesh behind her ear.

His pace increased. As she threaded her fingers through Spencer's hair, it only spurred him on, his movements relentless. Her mind was blank, every thought eclipse of his face. Evelyn tried to speak, to say what? She wasn't sure. All that came were breathless moans.

"You're doing so good, sweetheart," Spencer's praise traveled all the way to her pussy, clenching around his fingers as he spoke, "look at you, you're such a mess princess."

The familiar coil of anticipation tightened in Evelyn's core, her breaths growing labored as she grasped at Spencer, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "Spencer, I--"

He silenced her with a decisive motion, his hands tracing the contours of her face as he pressed his lips to hers hard. Her sobs melted into the kiss as she writhed beneath him. "I know. Go ahead, let go for me."

His words were all she needed, her body convulsing suddenly as pleasure washed over her. Her eyes, brimming with the shimmer of tears, sought out Spencer's face. Her thumb finding his bottom lip as she grinded her body against his. A Chesire grin spread across his face, leisurely and content, as he eased his pace, letting her ride out her high.

Her eyes fluttered as she tried to recover, her mind a haze of disorientation. Her fingers danced lightly across his face and neck, exploring to warmth of his skin. With a gentle press of his lips to each cheek, he drew out a smile from Evelyn, dazed and luminous, her chest rising and falling. She had never felt so euphoric.

Her hands immediately flew to his pajama pants, dancing along the line of his boxers, drawing him closer, as her lips found his. A soft chuckle escaped him as he seized her wandering hands, halting their advance with a gentle firmness.

"Spencer," she uttered with a pout, her gaze intensifying as if to memorize his every feature, "let me return the favor."

"Can't let you do that, sweetheart," he protested with a smile. "If I did, I will never focus on another thing again. Remember, my eidetic memory would replay that moment with relentless precision every hour," he paused, planting a kiss on her temple, "every minute," another to her nose, "every second," and finally, a lingering kiss to her lips.

taglist: @nonamevenus @aceofspades190

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x oc #aaron hotchner x oc #spencer red fic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #Spotify

182 notes · View notes

aurumacadicus · 21 days ago

Text

Don't forget, you can find more of this under my 'arranged witching au' tag!

He was even hotter up close, Tony lamented, curling his hands into fists in his lap. Rogers' hair looked golden in the candlelight, and it seemed to make the blue of his eyes pop more. He was built like a brick house, too, and Tony hadn't even known he found that attractive until Rogers had handed his shield off to one of the footmen like it weighed nothing and the footman had staggered with it, his own muscles straining to hold it off the floor.

Nomadic covens were used to hard labor. If they settled in a place, it was only for a few years, and then they left before their magic could truly take root. The downside to this was that they'd never be as powerful as a rooted coven. On the other hand, a witch was only as strong as their roots where they were rooted, so unless they were on their own property, they would find the nomads had the upper hand in a fight.

He'd never thought about what that 'hard labor' would entail, nor that he might... have to appreciate it. It wasn't a chore to appreciate.

Tony gripped his hands tighter, until he could feel his nails biting into his palms, and tried to focus on what Rogers and his father were talking about. It was difficult. Howard had cast a muddling spell to keep their conversation from being overheard. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Rogers seemed to be the only person who could hear him--even his mother appeared to be having difficulty following along. Rogers's coven-mates weren't even pretending they could understand.

Rogers set something on the table between them, and Tony didn't even pretend he wasn't craning his head to see what it was. He felt a flush of ice through his veins as he saw the skull and tentacles branded into the piece of burnt leather. He'd only seen it once before, when his mother had brought a bundle of old things that included a medallion like it to a cleansing fire, and one of the old biddies from another coven had explained that that was what the man who cursed Tony as a babe had been wearing. (The old biddy's voice had lowered, conspiratorial, "Maria Stark was so enraged when she realized her baby had been cursed, the warlock had burst into flames without her having to utter a word.")

Tony suddenly understood the gravity of his upcoming nuptials. If Hydra was rearing their ugly heads again, it wouldn't be just the nomadic covens in danger--every rooted coven would be, too. Hydra had turned their magic dark, ugly, something that sucked the power from others and killed them from the inside like poison. They didn't even need to show brute force to ruin a coven. All they needed was one person to sneak in and poison it from the inside.

Tony had known his father probably wouldn't fight the engagement, but now, seeing that Hydra was back on the rise again, he knew they wouldn't have a choice.

"I have this, too," Rogers suddenly said, voice cutting through loud and clear, and set a wooden box on the table in front of Tony.

Tony blinked, then glanced over at his parents. When Maria gave him a slight nod, he turned back to it, reaching out to draw it toward himself. The box's finish was slick under his fingers, and it still felt warm from Rogers's body heat. He ran his thumbs over the edges, then tipped the box open on its hinges.

"Oh," he breathed as light glinted off the large blue stone inside. It was cut square, resting in a silver setting. The silver band seemed thinner than what a man would normally wear. He took it out of the velvet cushion and held it up between his index and thumb. It wouldn't fit--it was for smaller, more delicate fingers. His mother's finger, probably.

The blue of the stone seemed to swirl in circles, but when Tony turned it toward the light, it stopped.

He looked up at Rogers, then let his eyes drift down to where his hands were clasped on top of the table, at the tear drop-shaped ruby set in gold on his finger. His mother had given Sarah Rogers that, as thanks for taking the curse off of him.

Rogers reached out, gently taking the ring from his fingers. He lifted it to his mouth, gave it a quick blow, as if he was trying to blow dust off of it. Then he reached back toward him, sliding the ring onto his finger--a perfect fit.

Tony could feel his cheeks turning pink and ducked his head, barely managing to choke out a polite, if strained, "Thank you."

#arranged witching au

59 notes · View notes

pompeiisystem · 3 months ago

Text

I'm ashamed to post this since I've always been taught it's a shameful thing to beg for money, but I'm at that point.

I'm looking for a second job as we speak, and all the money I currently have goes toward buying the most basic essentials for the house; bills and food are barely being cared for.

The more pressing issue is my state has been under a heatwave for a few weeks now with no signs of stopping, and as such, our one air conditioner has stopped working due to overuse. Its been high 90s all week and the heat index makes it feel hotter. On top of that, my job as my disabled and elderly mother's caregiver means I'm willing to do anything to keep her and my family cool and healthy, even if it's embarrassing.

I'm trying to get $135 dollars together to buy a replacement air conditioner. I'm willing write short stories, headcanons, one shots, or imagines with your favorite slashers or creepypastas as repayment for every $10 dollar donation. This is the cheapest air conditioner I could find that would fit in our window.

If you have the ability to donate, please do, and if not, PLEASE reblog to spread the message. I appreciate your time reading this, and I thank you for reblogging.

#fundraising #mod need help #please reblog #slashers #writing #headcanons #imagine #one shots #short story #creepypasta

65 notes · View notes

dailyoverview · 5 months ago

Text

Cities and towns across the Northeast USA are experiencing a rare June heat wave this week, with temperatures in the high 90s and humidity making it feel hotter. The heat index, which combines air temperature and relative humidity, is hovering at or above 100 degrees in cities like New York, Boston, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh and even as far north as Maine. This heat wave is occurring just as several environmental, healthcare and labor groups have asked FEMA to declare extreme heat and wildfire smoke “major disasters” like tornadoes and floods.

Source imagery: Planet / Nearmap / Airbus Space

100 notes · View notes

javiersprincess · 2 years ago

Note

thoughts on kishibe and squirting? 😵‍💫

tags: established relationship, fem reader, fingering, squirting, gagging, car sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, getting back to my writing juices

synopsis: kishibe can't help himself as is but when he has a motive. this mad dog is still as tenacious as ever, isn't he?

Kishibe has half a mind you do this on purpose - this is the third time he takes you in the back of his car, your office pants tugged off somewhere to the side and your shirt unbuttoned and wrinkled to ruin. Your tie hangs somewhere on the backs of the headrests and he has his balled up in your mouth to keep anyone from finding out what is transpiring from behind his tinted windows as if the soon-to-come rocking of his car won’t reveal what nefarious activities will occur in the vehicle. The first time was a brief stint on a reserved dinner date you two had been looking forward to for months, the 2nd on a long drive when neither of you could sleep, and now on the way to one of the few times Public Safety throws a New Years party after patrols.

Your lips are slick with spit, yours and his, bottom lip puffy from how he likes to bite them bloody. He had told you the iron of your blood was as sweet as you and you had made sure to get him checked out. It’s less funny now that his mind is hazy with thoughts, sights, and sounds of lust you provide him with - his car reeks of your cunt, and he finds himself wetting his lips at how the trimmed curls on your pubic bone glisten with your slick. Your tits heave with each breath, his hands never parting from the soft flesh for longer than he has to; he traces the indents of his teeth reverently as he makes his way down to your exposed cunt.

“Still so sensitive - whatever to do with you?” He mutters into the car's hot air and watches with careful eyes how the windows fog with condensation. You whimper, face hot with embarrassment at how his eyes greedily take in how easily you bear yourself to him, all grit and stubbornness dissipate like sugar in water and he grins at how the marrow of your backbone tastes on his tongue. You managed to take the gag out for a brief second and your mouth opens to complain (the third thing it’s good for).

“S-shut up - stop wasting so much time we can’t be late again.” You hiss, words heavy with your desire, and Kishibe lets out an amused huff - you have no place to be demanding he tells you and you respond with eyes so soft and soulful he gives in faster than he’s ever done before. His fingers make their way to your cunt with adept precision, curling past the slick silk of your walls in a way that leaves you shaking and a calloused thumb keeping at the pearl of your clit. The heat is so palpable it grows hotter and the leather upholstery squeaks under the two of you - a falsetto in the symphony of lewd noises that are born from the intertwining company in the car. You don’t even notice that the damp fabric of his tie makes its way back to your mouth until your cresting whines are met with the taste of fabric.

Something feels different - it’s too smoldering, too heavy in your gut and you almost lose it when he begins to kiss and nip at the tight buds of your nipples - alternating after each kiss of teeth at a pace you can’t keep up with. You are helpless to it, pleasure curls into your spine from your cunt, and the way his index finger hooks and rubs into the spongey nerves on your inner walls makes you feel so good it aches into the very red blood cells of your being - you haven’t even realized you’ve started to cry. A wad of drool has made its way past the seem of your lip and he watches, eye glittering like a snake’s from his place at your chest using your easily frazzled nerves against you.

Kishibe loves you but the defeat looks so pretty on you, he can’t help but ruin you each chance he gets.

All sounds you make are muffled and fall on deaf ears - Kishibe can barely make out the syllables of his name, a pity he can’t almost bear. The characters of his name have only sounded as sweet when you pass them through your honeyed tongued. And it seems your mouth isn’t the only place on you that honey comes from. SIick leaks down his palm and to his wrist, staining the cuff of his work shirt; if his mouth wasn’t busy tugging at your pebbled nipples he’d be making some sort of crass comment on your liquid lust that seems determined to get as far away from you as it can get.

It sloshes and sticks, tacky sounds as his fingers pluck more and more from your cunt and he pulls back to watch with a knowing grin as you convulse right here in the back of your car. He’s half tempted to pull back the gag of his tie, but there is joy in your deafened squeals as your thighs tremble beneath his bigger form. Releasing your nipple with a pop he leans to press a kiss to your temple as he lets his fingers prod, hooking, and fucking your cunt until you break.

You cum with your back bent into a bow and Kishibe huffs at how your cunt gushes around his long, bone-knuckled fingers - a stream of your cum landing on the part of his sleeve that covers his forearm. You breathe heavily and you heave as he tags the tie - not wet and damp from the moisture of your drool and you whine when you can still feel his fingers working at your poor wrung-out cunt. A stray tear makes its way down your cheek and you jump at how his tongue is there to lick it away, your cunt twitches, and you shudder as more cum leaks out from you.

“S-stop, Oh fuck, fuck - I can’t cum again please-” Your pleas are cut short by the deep rumbling baritone next to your ear that replaces your “you can’t”s with “you can.”.Fingers pull out - wet and tacky and the scent of your poor pussy heavy on them, you think it’s a reprieve only to jump when knuckles run through the wet folds of your cunt. You moan out his name, defeated and pretty and he chuckles into your sweaty hairline.

His fingers are inside and they are relentless and ever, no soreness or fatigue present as your next orgasm follows your last with necking-breaking speed. This time you splash up to his elbow and your whines are high-strung and free to float in the air that reeks of sex.

Kishibe doesn’t stop. Defeat is lovely on you - almost as sweet as the honey that spills from your cunt, lips, and heart; why on earth would he deny you pleasure when it tastes as sweet as your love for him.

You cum a third time - a trembling squeeze of your walls around his fingers and your clit burns from sensitivity. Kishibe flat-out grins and presses a kiss to your chest as every part of you trembles before him - the foundation of your being torn asunder by pleasure only. How lovely, as beautiful as the gardens of Babylon is the way you gaze at him pleasure soaked eyes tell him all he needs to know about where your mind is. Without turning over, and without breaking your gaze he grabs his coak he left at his seat and drapes you in it. He almost smiles at how you curl up under its weight. His hand soothes your hair and you almost purr, making his woman cum so hard she soaks him and gets to head straight home? It’s been hell but maybe his life isn’t as shitty as he thought it to be.

#lamb.writes #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #csm x reader #csm smut

1K notes · View notes

quinloki · 5 months ago

Text

Birthday Request Event v2024

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: afab gender neutral Character: Portgas D Ace Vibe: NSFW Dubcon (very lightly dubcon) AU: Fantasy AU Prompt: Fuck or Die Gift Giver: @undeadeurydice

Summary: Pure Element magic knights have an often fatal flaw. It's not YOUR job to keep one of them alive, but circumstances have forced the job onto your shoulders. You could say no, but then you'd probably both die.

Content Notes: dub con, fingering, sex - aside from mention of vaginal sex, no other gendered descriptions or terms are used, cream pie, mdni

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise - THIS IS gently EXPLICITLY STATED OTHERWISE

The heat of his breath against your ear sent shivers through you. His hands were hot against your skin. One finger pressed against your tongue caused drool to pool at the tip, dripping off your lips and slipping down his finger.

Ace moaned, reveling in the sensation of it before his hand moved down your stomach. His fingers teased against your lower abs, tickling through the topmost hairs of your mound.

You were on your knees, with the fiery beast on his knees behind you, ankles hooked over yours, knees between yours, keeping you locked against him. His stiff, leaky cock was rutting between your ass cheeks, sending a concerned moan against the finger on his tongue when it threatened to push into your ass.

“See? All warm now, huh?” He husks, and you nod. Your hands are against the stone wall, the sharp cold of the rock wall and floor protecting you against the consuming heat coming from the knight behind you.

Knight. Beast. You weren’t really sure which right now.

“I’m going to make it good for you too, don’t worry.” He promises, and you squirm, moaning as his finger hits your clit, pressing into it as his tongue licks your shoulder. “That right there huh?” He murmurs against your skin. He keeps his index finger on your tongue, moving his grip enough to hold your throat with the other fingers and his thumb.

“You’re so wet it’s hard to stay on it.” Two fingers move past your clit and slip deeper into your pussy. There’s a wet squelch as he moves them, teasing the entrance of your vagina before returning to your clit. “You’re dripping. I didn’t think you were really up for this.”

He tilts your head to the side, leaving a bruising kiss on your neck and forcing a whine from you, body shivering against the sensation. His rough fingers are sending jolts through you with each touch, making you squirm and moan.

“Keep your hands on the stone.” He reminds you, pressing your hand against it with his pussy-slicked fingers. “No matter how it feels, good or bad, don’t let go of the stone.”

He shifts and you feel his cock push against your labia, rubbing back and forth, teasing your clit as he lets your own juices lubricate him. You shiver at the size of him, shaking your head and trying to tell him to stop. Ace shoves the finger in your mouth further back, causing you to gag.

“If I don’t do this, I’ll literally - magically - explode. You won’t survive that. Even dressed and bundled.” His voice is firm, but there’s a sorrowful understanding in his tone. “If I die you’d freeze to death before you got back down the mountain.”

He removes his finger from your mouth, putting his hands over yours and keeping them against the rocks. “Say it.”

“I… I understand.” You say through nervous tears.

You’d been working up to this for almost an hour. First there was denial about his situation, then there was painful understanding. The cave you’d taken shelter in was getting hotter and hotter. The blizzard worse. If he left to expel the magical build up, you’d freeze before he returned.

It was a bad side effect of pure single-element magic, and most knights kept a Leaf instead of a Squire - Leaf being a play on the word Relief. Someone whose entire job was to be used as relief valve for the knight. You were a Squire, however, but your knight hadn’t survived the fight with the monsters. Ace’s Leaf hadn’t made it either. So here you both were.

Trapped.

He’d been prepping you for a good twenty minutes, but a few minutes ago he’d gotten so hot to the touch he’d burned your shoulder. So here you were, channeling the sharp cold of the cave through your body to combat the powerful heat rolling off Ace, sweating as much as you were drooling.

“I promise you’ll survive.” He says, holding your hands to the wall as he pushes slowly into your pussy. “Breathe,” he commands and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Easing in and out he gets the tip in and you gasp. It’s a strange sensation a mix of a burn and a throb as you stretch a little too fast to accommodate him. You’re not really that much smaller than him, but either he’s well endowed or your nerves are making you unfortunately clench.

“You’ll never have to be a Leaf again, I swear.” His voice sinks into you and you can feel yourself relax a little. He pushes in deeper and deeper. Impossibly deep. You can’t imagine you have that much room, or he’s that big, but once he’s flush against your thighs you sigh in relief. You can take all of him, which means it shouldn’t tear you apart.

He moves slowly at first, giving you time to adjust, murmuring under his breath about how tight you are, how good you feel, how well you’re doing. Praises fall from his lips like little prayers, and you can feel the strange sensation of it all shift into something that feels weird, but good. So good. Your body’s warming up, and it’s not because of the infernal heat rolling off his skin, it’s the rush of your blood setting your skin on edge.

You lean forward, your weight keeping your hands on the rock wall, and Ace takes the cue with practiced observation. Some knights didn’t worry about the needs of their Leafs, but some took great pride in caring for the very people who kept them safe and functional despite the risks.

His fingers tease your clit as he picks up his pace, the soft slap of skin against skin as he pushes heavy thrusts into your growing need. He caresses your body with his other hand, running his fingers gently over everything he can reach. Following the curves of your muscles and peppering kisses against your back.

“It’s okay for it to feel good.” He assures you, his voice heavy. “I know… it’s not ideal… but it’s okay.”

You nod, your own breath coming out heavier and faster. Something is building up, like someone turning the coil to a wind up doll. The tension doesn’t feel bad, but it’s a little overwhelming. It’s like magic leaking out of your core, you can hold onto it, but it’s a concerning sensation.

“What, what- ah, Sir, Sir!” Your fingers tense against the rock, and Ace shifts, moving you closer to the wall, pressing your chest against the frigid stone. “It feels strange!”

“Don’t fight it,” Ace replies, a smile on his lips and hot air in his tone. “It’ll feel good - HURK!”

Your body tenses from your toes to your fingers and a rush of pleasure slams into you so unexpectedly you scream. You can feel yourself tighten against him. “Fuck you got tight!” Ace hisses, his rhythm stuttering only a little before he continues.

You squirm against the wall, the rush subsiding only slightly as his continued pace and fingers teasing your body are almost too much. Every shift is like a jolt, like your entire body is static electricity, allowing just the smallest thing to crackle against your senses. You whine as the pleasure builds, your position and mind both too hazy for you to do much but take it.

Broken begging murmurs of pleas fall from your lips as the overstimulating sensations start to tighten in your muscles again.

“Almost there,” he promises. “You’re doing so… good…!”

Ace’s hands tighten against you, the last few heavy thrusts sending you over the edge again. Fire roars from his back, filling the cave and jettisoning out the entrance. You feel something flood between your legs, splattering onto the stone as he pushes in deep another time, sighing against your skin.

“Good job.” He huffs, pulling out of you, but still holding on. He’s not terrifyingly hot, but the fire was blown away by the release. He’s the only source of heat right now. “Sorry.”

“I understand.”

#birthday request event #birthday request event 2024 #one piece drabble #reader insert #x reader #portgas d ace #dub con #fantasy au

51 notes · View notes

tempobrucera · 1 year ago

Text

Peaches, Figs & Cherry Stems

Pairing: Thomas x Reader Wordcount: 7.7k Summary: You become fascinated with Thomas eating fruit, and Thomas catches on, getting progressively flirtier with you while everyone around you is oblivious to your little game. Warnings: Food, Smut

Add yourself to my taglist. / Masterlist

.#####.

It’s summer time in Italy and if you learned one thing it’s that summers in Italy are always hot. And this one is especially hot, even hotter than the last. Even with smothering yourself in sun cream your body feels like boiling and your cheeks are heating up for a different reason completely.

Thomas climbed out of the pool moments ago. Water dripping down his body, his chest, his long legs. There are water droplets falling out of his hair and he decides to be an asshole and shakes his head while standing over you, water raining down on you. You don’t complain, it feels like a welcomed refreshment.

However your cheeks heat up and you can feel yourself getting red-faced when one drop of water on his chest catches your eyes. Your gaze follows it travelling down his chest and then his tummy, right down to the waistband of his swimming trunks. Before your eyes travel down further you catch yourself and let your gaze glide up to his face again.

He is biting in a slice of watermelon he must have taken when your eyes were occupied with something else. The watermelon juice running down his fingers makes you blush even more. You’re happy that your eyes are hidden behind the dark shades of your sunglasses and you let your sun hat glide into your face with one little movement. It’s better than to stare at him.

You can still hear it in his voice, the smirk that you imagine is plastered all over his face, when he asks: “Want a slice?”

.#####.

You spent the day at the pool again, the sun is burning on your skin, it’s too hot for your liking. Watching Thomas from afar doesn’t help. He’s eating raspberries out of a small bowl that’s sitting on his stomach. Water droplets all over his body again. His lips and his tongue are a slight red-pink from the fruit he just swallowed when he bites his bottom lip. And you ask yourself why you agreed to go on a vacation trip with them. For two weeks, it’s only day two and you’re already feeling like losing your mind. Every time you see Thomas you are sure that he’s going to do something that has your insides turn, your mind cloud with desire and having you want. Or having you want to die on the spot - maybe you’re close to a sunstroke.

“Thomas,” you hear Ethan call from somewhere in the shade, “You’re supposed to share. And please get some sunscreen on your skin asap.”

Thomas grumbles something that sounds like I’m an adult, asshole but he still gets up.

“I am just making sure you aren’t getting skin cancer.”

“Of course, mum!”

On the way inside Thomas drops the bowl of raspberries on your body, almost between your boobs. And then he disappears inside, Vic is snoozing on the sunlounger next to you, a sunburn starting to bloom just over her bikini bottoms.

You’re completely lost in your own thoughts, and you only realise that Thomas is back when he’s towering over you blocking the sun and he grabs your wrist. You want to protest and ask what he’s doing when he already puts his lips around your index finger - and gets the raspberry of the fingertip. Lost in your thoughts you put some of the berries on your fingers earlier. Thomas lets your finger go and goes for the next one. If your earlier thought was that he’ll drive you insane, it now changed to you’ll black out.

“Mmhhhh,” he hums around your finger. His eyes cross your gaze when he pulls off. He takes a raspberry out of the bowl and holds it to your lips, without your agreement your lips open for him and the berry, then he pulls back completely. Ethan is squeezing his eyes at you from afar, you’re sure he only sees blurry, and Vic lets out a snore.

“Did you put suncream on?” Ethan asks.

“Yeeeeaaassss.”

You can see some white cream trapped in his happy trail and your mind reels and goes places where it shouldn’t go. Get your head out of the gutter, you scold yourself and you wonder if he knows. The smell is intoxicating, and it comes in waves when he leans over you to get the bowl of raspberries back - it’s still placed on your body, between your boobs. You think about his rough calloused fingertips against your skin and have to bite your lips.

He leaves behind a cloud of suncream, raspberry, the chlorine smell of pool water drying on his skin, his body wash, cigarette smoke, faint sweat and sandalwood. You want to drown in it. There’s only his smell and confusion left when he’s back at the other side of the pool and he takes his glass.

“Cheers.”

.#####.

Making dinner later is a challenge. Damiano is trying to cook, you are making a salad, Vic and Thomas are causing havoc every time you turn your back on them while Ethan sits at the table nipping at his glass of wine, slapping Thomas’ ass when he’s on the way running into Damiano at full speed. He turns around to Ethan and squeals. Damiano drills the cooking spoon between his shoulder blades, tomato sauce all over his white tank top.

“What the fu…,” Thomas turns back.

“Be helpful for once in your life,” Damiano tells him, “instead of being stupid.”

He lets out a tirade of Italian curse words but comes closer to where you are fighting with the pomegranate. You already took off the top of the fruit in your hands and sliced the skin. Thomas takes it out of your hands without asking. Pries it open with his own bare hands, his long fingers holding and simultaneously ripping it apart - but all the same he’s gentle. So gentle that it has you wondering. His fingers popping the blood red kernels out of the pulp right into the salad bowl. The faint red liquid running down his fingers, he isn’t even saying one word. But he looks at you when he’s done, when he grabs for the tea towel that you threw over your shoulder earlier. He still looks at you when he washes his hands, the red off the silver of his ring, and dries his hands.

“Thank you.”

You don’t know why you feel like you want to cry. And for a split second you think he knows because he raises his hand to your face, your hair, before he lets it sink again without doing anything.

“There’s tomato sauce on my back,” he still looks at you, “Isn’t there?”

There’s a piece of pomegranate falling out of your hair when Thomas has left the kitchen to find Victoria again.

.#####.

Waking up from a loud splash wasn’t what you expected to rip you out of your more than pleasant dream. Sleepily you walk to the window to see who is responsible for your suffering. You’re surprised to see Thomas in the pool, smiling and waving his hand to greet you just when Vic joins him and dunks him under water.

After you get somewhat presentable, or at least what you can chalk up under presentable, you leave your room. On the way down you run into Ethan, who isn’t saying much, and looks as tired as you feel but he sits down with you when you get breakfast for yourself and offer him a coffee. Strategically you place yourself in a chair which allows you to look out of the big french windows. Best look at the pool. And Vic and Thomas - and the bowl of blueberries.

You can observe how Vic throws the blueberries for him and you smile when you see that he tries to catch them with his mouth. You can see him fail again and again. Berry after berry.

Ethan is too immersed with his phone to notice, and if he does he’s too polite to mention or call you out on it. Even when you get up, clear the table, set a new cup of coffee in front of him and leave, he only mumbles a short Thank you. Thomas is still failing to catch any of Victoria’s blueberries.

Just when you come through the door he finally catches one. He makes a slight courtesy in front of you and you do him the favour to clap. You don’t tell him that you watched how he missed all the other ones.

.#####.

Later in the morning Ethan and you both have your noses hidden behind books. Ethan a book with a title you already don’t understand and yours is behind a book you bought in a museum shop.

You can hear the crinkly package of an ice cream sandwich being opened next to you but before Ethan can dig his teeth into it, Thomas' head appears behind Ethan’s book. He sniffs not unlike a bunny and you laugh when you realise that he’s sniffing out food and his next target is Ethan’s ice cream sandwich that he takes out of Ethan’s hand with one swift motion.

He licks around the edges, some strawberry ice cream on his lips that he licks away while looking at you, and only then he bites into it.

“Nah,” he shakes his head and hands it back to Ethan who looks at him like he can’t believe what just happened.

“Why do you think I want something you just licked?”

.#####.

“Someone has to do the shopping,” Damiano says, trying to not look at anyone specific but he still looks at Ethan, “I already made a grocery list.”

“I’ll just pay someone to do that for us,” even with the sunglasses hiding most of her face you can still see her roll her eyes behind the shades.

“You don’t have to,” you say, also thinking about the small market you saw on your way, “I’m happy to do it. Good to get outside this house for a bit.”

“I’ll join,” Thomas chirps in. Four pairs of eyes are looking at him, all of them in different states of disbelief. “What? What she said, good to get out of the house.”

Vic raises one of her eyebrows.

“And as I will eat most of it, I might as well choose.”

“Great, having the house quiet for most of the day is a dream,” Damiano says, “Please leave as soon as you can.”

You do leave half an hour later, you in the passenger seat and Thomas driving. Smoking and the wind blowing through the open windows and his hair.

Getting the groceries is easy, Thomas and you working through Damiano’s list from top to bottom. He picks out fruits really carefully, rotating them through his fingers, looking for spots and only taking the ones which he deems worthy enough to go into your small basket. He picks out some lychees he peels and eats straight away. Your eyes are trained on his hands, the fruit, and then his lips. He smiles at you when he offers you one.

When you pick out vegetables Thomas looks suggestively at a cucumber, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You just roll your eyes and he giggles, but as soon as he has his back to you again you smile.

“We should have some gelato,” Thomas says when all your errands are dealt with, “That ice cream sandwich was terrible.”

“What are you,” you laugh, “some kind of ice cream connoisseur?”

“Actually … Yes, let’s do some ice cream testing. I saw a shop in one of those alleys over you.”

The girl behind the counter looks intimidated when she sees Thomas step through the door, she almost drops the cone she’s just handing over to a happy customer. And her eyes go even bigger when he says: “Could I … just get a bit of everything, please?”

For some reason, and you believe the reason to be someone being starstruck, he gets what he asked for without any questions being asked or to deny him the request.

He takes two cups from her and two little wooden spoons.

First he steals some pistachio gelato from the cup he handed you before sitting down in front of the little shop. Then he tries the peach that is in his own cup, and he closes his eyes in delight. When he notices your eyes lingering on him he gets another spoonful and feeds it to you from his spoon.

“Mmhhh.”

“Perfect.”

.######.

It’s almost evening when the two of you are back from your little shopping trip. Damiano is already waiting, rummaging through your bags to find ingredients he needs to cook dinner.

Thomas takes a mango and a knife and disappears outside to sit in the glowing evening sun. You follow him outside, Vic and Ethan are at the table as well. Ethan smoking, Vic painting his nails. But you only have eyes for Thomas and how he cuts the mango into small pieces. How he picks up a piece with his fingers to pop it between his lips and how he licks the sweetness from the corner of his mouth.

It’s almost like he’s treasuring the taste, but at the same time he’s devouring it. There’s only one thought in your head: You want to know how everything tastes from his lips.

.#####.

When Damiano calls out that dinner is ready, Thomas is the one who jumps up and makes it inside the fastest.

“You could think we would starve him,” Ethan shakes his head.

But when you see the pasta Damiano cooked, you kind of get Thomas’ urgency to find a place at the table. The food smelling and looking delicious, making your stomach rumble. A gentle reminder that Thomas and you skipped lunch in favour of a gelato sampling.

“Thomas,” Ethan exclaims when he slurps the spaghetti into his mouth.

“What?” He says, “Compliments to the chef?”

Damiano rolls his eyes but takes the compliment with kiss hand, to Ethan’s dismay. You have to admit that it isn’t really sexy or appealing at all but it has Vic and you giggling while Ethan once again shakes his head.

.#####.

The next day feels slow and lazy. The most you do is getting in and out of the pool and reapplying sunscreen every now and then, all under Thomas’ watchful eyes.

For lunch everyone’s creating their own pizza with the dough Damiano prepared the night before, so everyone can choose who’s pizza they want to try later. Thomas looks at your creation with interest and then looks back to his own.

“They are the same,” he tells you and when you have a closer look at his, you see that he’s right.

“Oh.��

It’s a strange moment of connection that fades as quickly as it came but has you discussing the Top 10 pizza toppings while eating and Thomas jokingly proposing the idea of a pizza eating contest. You all know he would win.

.#####.

The sound of laughter and splashing fills the air as Thomas and you engage in a playful game of catch in the pool. Thomas has a height advantage but you’re moving quicker when he doesn’t know how to coordinate his limbs. You both sit at the edge out of breath when Vic offers you a fig.

As you bite into the fig, the sweet juice drips down your chin without you noticing, you barely notice Thomas who seems to be entranced by you.

“You know,” he says, leaning in closer so Victoria can’t hear him, “I’ve always heard that eating a fig is one of the most sensual experiences you can have."

“Is that so?” you ask, taking another bite, “Any other ideas to explore your senses?”

You decided there was no harm in flirting back, and Thomas’ laugh and sly smile reassures you with your decision. You laugh as well and you can feel the air around you charged with playful flirtation.

“I might have some ideas.”

.#####.

Ethan decided to declare tonight movie night earlier in the day, writing it on a chalkboard, which Damiano primarily used to write down a menu for every day, in bold big red letters. Everyone followed the invitation you can see when you’re the last one to arrive. Luckily Thomas pads a free space next to him on the sofa that he saved for you.

As soon as you sit down, he puts a glass of white wine in your hand and a bowl of popcorn between your legs before he sneaks one arm around your back.

Approximately it takes you fifteen minutes to forget what film Ethan picked to watch. The bowl of popcorn is between your legs. A place where Thomas’ other hand now travels to grab for the popcorn. You squirm and blush.

“I told you I have some ideas,” he says a little bit too loud and you expect to be called out but there’s just a Ssshhh from Damiano and Ethan gratefully smiling at him, nothing more.

.######.

“I’ll cook today,” you tell Damiano over a cup of coffee during the early hours of the morning, “If you don’t mind.”

“You kidding?” He gives you a smile, the kitchen is quiet otherwise, everyone else still laying in bed, “I could do with a day just chilling and smoking pot.”

.#####.

For lunch you prepare a picnic, salad, fruits, cheese, sandwiches, and some freshly made raspberry lemonade. Thomas joins you in the kitchen from time to time. Sometimes to touch your back, to let his hands linger on your waist when he hugs you from behind but mostly to steal food from plates and bowls and baskets.

Only when you prepare the last item for your little picnic, a lemon tart, he stays in the kitchen without any signs of leaving. And you decide to leave him be and shift your attention back to your dough.

One unfortunate moment Thomas leans his long neck over your shoulder, just when you’re adding flour to a bowl. It startles you so much that you jump, flour packet in hand, and some of the flour landing on your dress and some of it directly on Thomas’ cheek.

“Sorry,” you wipe it off his face apologetically. He smiles an honest smile at you, and the moment turns from embarrassing to cute with that.

You offer him a slice of lemon and he takes it happily, almost as with the glee of a child. He bites into it and you can imagine how the juice explodes in his mouth, the tangy, sour but somehow still sweet flavour capturing his senses all at once. Thomas closes his eyes while savouring the flavour and then he seems to become aware that you’re watching him, your eyes intense and focused solely on him.

Your eyes meet, the moment passes, but there’s a spark of attraction and desire you can’t quite place but you also can’t ignore. A shared moment of pleasure on a hot summer day.

“Could you squeeze them for me?” You roll the lemons to him and point at the lemon squeezer press on the counter. When he gets the knife to cut them in half, you think this was a bad idea but he makes it without cutting off his fingers.

He’s just about to say something, one half of lemon still in hand, and then a sudden burst of lemon juice hits your eye.

“FUCK!” It burns and stings but it calms down at least slightly when you press a wet towel on it. And your initial shock quickly turns into banter. “Thomas, why did you do that?”

“Oh,” he looks at you playfully, “Now it’s my fault that you’re staring at me?”

Just when you want to answer, Ethan barges into the kitchen: “Can I help?”

“Yes,” you say - towel still on your eye, “You could span the parasol, get some blankets, take the plates and cutlery outside.”

“Oh,” he looks at your eye, “I heard screaming, everything okay?”

“Yes, just squirted into her eye,” Thomas admits sheepishly.

“Squi- … Sorry, you did what now?”

“The lemon,” you point at the culprit - Thomas who still has the lemon in his hand, “He squirted it into my eye. Actually take the menace out of my kitchen as well.”

“You sound like Damiano,” Thomas pouts at you but still leaves. Not that he has another choice when Ethan throws him over his shoulders and leaves for the door.

“Those sandwiches are lovely,” Vic says later, “And I’m excited to taste the lemon tart.”

“Went through a lot of trouble for that one,” Thomas says but you choose not to correct him. You went through all the trouble. However you playfully put a lemon slice into Thomas’ lemonade.

“Hey,” Vic squeaks, “Why is he getting special treatment?”

“Because I’m a really special boy.”

.#####.

For dinner preparations Thomas stays away from the kitchen, too busy playing guitar at the pool. You seek out Damiano’s help, he happily obliges and fires on the grill that’s on the terrace. You can conveniently hand him the things that need to be grilled while the air is filled with Vic’s laughter, the sound of Thomas' guitar and a cicada background concert. Damiano and you happily chatting from grill to kitchen window until he calls everyone for dinner.

Thomas looks at his plate and then up to you.

“Figs stuffed with goat's cheese and wrapped in prosciutto,” you tell him, “And Damiano grilled them. You know I’ve heard somewhere that eating a fig is one of the most sensual experiences you can have.”

He blushes and you know that your flirting just became more intentful with this small gesture of food.

“Sexy little appetiser,” Vic laughs.

Damiano plates the next round of food, so everyone is free to take what they desire. Steak, vegetables, salad and grilled stuffed portobello mushrooms and little stuffed tomatoes. Thomas’ eyes stay a bit too long on them before he takes something of everything.

“I see,” he says, “We have some kind of a theme going here. Everything is stuffed.”

Now it’s on you to blush, but everyone is still gleefully chewing their food, so you take your chance: “I guess you can think of other things too?”

“I had those filled zucchini boats lately,” Ethan says oblivious to Thomas and you shamelessly flirting right under everyone’s nose, “Lovely dish.”

“The dish,” Vic asks, “Or the girl?”

“Both,” Ethan says before he quickly puts a fork full of food into his mouth.

.#####.

Later when everyone else left for bed, Thomas takes a spread of cheese, crackers and grapes that’s still left from your lovely garden picnic outside and places it between you. He stumps out his cigarette before he picks up a grape and holds it up to your lips. You open your mouth, and the grape bursts with flavour. Thomas leans in and for a short moment in time you think he leans over to kiss the sweet taste of the grape from your lips but even this moment passes.

Next you hold a grape up to Thomas’ lips and he takes it with a hum. The intimacy of the moment isn’t lost on you and you’re certain that isn’t on Thomas either, a felt sense of surrender to the pleasure of the moment. Somehow getting lost in each other, the world around you fading away as you focused on the simple joy of grapes and Thomas next to you.

As the bunch of grapes dwindles, you find yourself with a sense of sadness once again. You don’t want the moment to end but you know it will and while you both savoured the last few grapes you took your time and relished in the moment.

When the grapes are gone, only cheese and crackers left, you both laid there for a few more heartbeats, basking in the afterglow of the experience. You both don’t need words to express what you were feeling, you knew that you shared something special. You both had surrendered to the moment, and in doing so, you found something truly beautiful.

.#####.

Ethan and you are both standing in front of the chalkboard in the kitchen the next morning.

we’re going out tonight

Is written on the board in Ethan’s handwriting.

FOR DINNER!!!!

Underneath in Damiano’s.

“But …,” Ethan says, “there’s this fair close by, I thought that would be fun.”

“I booked a table,” Damiano says apologetically, “but tomorrow we’re going to the fair, I promise.”

.#####.

Lunch is an adventure, you daydream with your eyes open, Thomas always the centre of your gaze.

Thomas is dangling cherries over his mouth while Vic happily captures his every move with her phone camera. Thomas once again came to the table only in his swimming trunks, his bare feet edging around yours under the table.

“Who do you think can spit the pit the furthest?” Vic asks Ethan who are the only ones that haven’t touched the cherries yet.

“Thomas,” Ethan answers.

“Okay,” Vic says, “My bet is on her. 50 Euro?”

They both lose, when Damiano ends up being crowned the winner of your cherry pit spitting contest.

“But I bet you can’t do this,” Thomas says before stuffing a cherry stem into his mouth.

You can see utmost concentration reflecting on his face.

“Show off,” Damiano comments before he turns away to talk with Ethan and Vic.

Thomas looks into your eyes the whole time, you can see his tongue move. Hot pleasure sparking up your spine. And then he sticks out his tongue, still looking at you, the cherry stem laying on his tongue, a knot in it. He takes it off his tongue, rinses it in his glass of water before he puts it into your hands and you look at the knot in the stem fascinated.

“How did you do that?”

“I can teach you,” and when he’s sure that everyone is distracted by something else he adds: “You know, I can put it to good use somewhere else as well.”

.#####.

You have to admit that Damiano picked a lovely little restaurant, you can see the sea from the terrace. Even Ethan is happy exclaiming that he was here not too long ago with someone.

“Who’s this mysterious person you’re keeping away from us?” Thomas teases.

“Special,” is the only answer he gets and Thomas shrugs.

You can’t decide on a cocktail when Ethan nicely offers his advice which is why your choice falls on a sparkling raspberry cocktail called Love Potion that comes with a popsicle served in your glass.

You carefully take the popsicle out of your drink when it arrives and suck on it under Thomas watchful eyes. He squirms in his chair, it’s even visible to Victoria who asks him if everything is okay. It’s the first time that you notice - really notice - that you have an effect on him as well.

.#####.

The next day Thomas eats peaches when everyone else retreats from the sun for a bit. You’re feeling close to blacking out but it isn’t the sun that troubles you, it’s Thomas.

You’re in the pool, cool water engulfing you, while Thomas sits on a chair, sucking some juice from his fingers before he takes another one and bites into the flesh. When he’s done he seats himself at the edge of the pool, feet in the water.

“You didn’t wash your hand,” you call him out but swim closer to him, interested in his antics.

“Yes, but I thought …” he trails off, “You like peach, right?”

He puts his peach-soaked fingers on your lips and without thinking you suck on his fingers, savouring the taste of peaches and Thomas’ skin. You’re between his legs. Once again a shared moment of intimacy, the water creating a private oasis where you can let your guard down and explore your attraction. That is until Vic jumps into the pool, ass first. You pull back and Thomas lets his fingers plop out of your mouth before Vic looks at you two smiling and you both wave at her.

.#####.

Later Vic offers you a lollipop, you happily take it from her when you think about the popsicle and the reaction Thomas’ body showed to it.

After a few minutes Thomas has to dip into the pool and dives under water. You take it as a small success after the peach.

.#####.

“Since when are you on your phone 24/7?” Thomas asks Ethan when you’re walking through the fairground. “Did Vic possess you? Or are you flirting? Is it special?”

“Stop being mean,” you elbow him in his side.

“It’s okay,” Ethan assures you, “Yes, really special, thanks for asking. She’s a writer and sent me this idea a few days ago, so I’m just trying to be useful to bounce off ideas.”

“Cute,” you say and take his phone from him. He looks at you confused but then Vic hands him cotton candy. “Let me take a pic of you with that, you can send it to them.”

“Wonderful idea,” Vic comments and you can hear Thomas whispering something that sounds like All this time I have been surrounded by secret romantics only.

It doesn’t take long for you and Thomas to lose sight of the other ones. It’s a beautiful beach setting, the sounds of waves crashing on the shore. And you sit down for a bit, Thomas enjoying the sweet taste of cotton candy that Vic handed to him as well, while the sun slowly sets on the horizon. You laugh and talk and he feeds you some of the sticky treat as the sky turns into a canvas of oranges and pinks. The salty sea breeze gently brushes your skin. Thomas teases you with his sticky fingers and playfully wipes them on your cheeks and your nose before you chase him down the boardwalk.

When you catch up with him, you can see that he smeared some of the sticky sugar on his cheek while biting into the fluffy treat. You take a tissue for yourself to get rid of the sticky residue on your cheek and then take another one to wipe his cheek clean.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “You’re always looking out for me.”

You blush, feeling a warm sensation spread through your chest.

“Secretly romantic yourself, huh?”

.#####.

The candy cotton gone, Thomas is having a debate with himself if he wants chocolate covered strawberries or if he wants a candy apple before joining Ethan for a hot dog who just called to ask where you two got lost.

He decides for the apple, once again a sticky mess, sticking to his chin and you pass him a tissue. You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re a mess,” you say, smiling at him kindly.

“I couldn’t resist, and this takes the longest to eat,” he grins, his eyes sparkling with joy, “Which means I can spend more time with you alone.”

You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. You walked through the fair, Thomas taking your hand in his, admiring the brightly lit rides, the sound of children laughing and music blasting from booths with silly games. As you approach a small ferris wheel he looks at you, again a twinkle in his eye: “You want to go up?”

You hesitate for a few seconds, unsure if you’re ready for the heights. But you look at him and he’s still smiling.

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“I promise, I’m gonna hold your hand the whole time.”

As you board the ride and you begin your ascent, Thomas leans close to you, still holding your hand and whispers: "I'm glad we did this."

“Me too,” you say softly, feeling the rush of the wind and the uncomfortable rush of heights but the comfortable touch of Thomas’ hand in yours. As you reach the top of the ferris wheel he gently squeezes your hand.

“You know, I feel like we have a connection," he says, his voice low.

You can feel your heart race, not only from the rush anymore.

“I know what you mean,” you’re saying with a surge of courage. You talk about the last time you both have been on a ferris wheel and then your topic of conversation swiftly switches to what was the most stupid thing you did to impress someone to what was your biggest regret.

As you make your way down the Ferris wheel, he keeps his arm around you, holding you close and making you feel safe and protected. And then the ride already stops before you know it.

More than half of his candy apple is still uneaten and as he takes another bite he starts to twirl his apple on the stick, trying to impress you with his finesse. He spins the apple faster and faster, trying to look impressive. You watch him with amusement before giving him a daring smile. Then he stops and takes a huge bite of the apple but as he does he accidentally bites into the stick, causing the apple to fall to the ground. You burst out laughing, and Thomas blushes, a hint of embarrassment.

“Maybe it’s time to find the others.”

You find them ten minutes later in front of the hot dog stand Ethan mentioned earlier.

“Did you get lost or something?” Ethan asks.

“We got sidetracked,” you say, “By food and the ferris wheel.”

Vic looks at Thomas, disappointment visible on her face: “Hey, I want to go on the ferris wheel with you.”

“Sorry,” he grins, “Maybe ask Damiano.”

“Hell fucking no!” he shouts.

“Maybe Eth here is interested,” Thomas suggests, “When he can leave his phone for a minute or two. Or maybe you aren’t interesting enough, Vic. Would she be crazy enough to go on a ride with you?”

Ethan looks up from his phone, you can see how he just sent another photo from when Thomas and you were lost. Not very Ethan like and when he sees your questioning gaze he says: “Everything for a little bit of joy, you know.” Then he looks at Thomas, “Yes! And I would hold they hand the whole time while watching the sun.”

“A crazy thing to do,” Damiano chirps in.

“Love story of the summer,” Vic smiles at Ethan, “Happy for you.”

Thomas winks at you when your gaze crosses.

.#####.

Thomas has a frappuccino and strawberries for breakfast the next morning when you come into the kitchen in your pyjamas, the rest of the house still quiet.

He takes small sips of his pink drink while maintaining eye contact with you. Then he takes it a step further, running his tongue over his lips after he had a sip. Next he playfully dips his finger into the whipped cream but instead of offering it to you, initiating physical contact this way, he licks the cream off himself and lets out a satisfied moan. Still looking into your eyes, it’s a bold move but by now you don’t expect anything less from him and when he takes another sip he lets some whipped cream get on his nose.

“Oops,” he says playfully, “Would you mind helping me?”

You know, he did it because of the night at the fair prior, and it’s kind of silly and cute in it’s own way.

“That the connection you talked about?” you ask.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, “I love the day long foreplay, really enjoying it, but I also love talking with you, and listening to your ideas and sharing my thoughts with you.”

He grabs your waist and gently pulls you down in his lap.

“I love conversations with you too.” And then you grin when you see Thomas' soft gaze, you know it’ll take him off guard. “Foreplay you said, hmmmm?”

“Uhhhm,” he squirms under you, “Yeah.”

He takes a strawberry and takes it between his teeth, edges closer to you. Your hand on his stubbly cheek. You take it off him with your lips and it’s the first time you feel his lips on your, a kiss. He takes another strawberry that you steal from him and he lets his tongue dance around yours for a few minutes before he bites your tongue and you moan into his mouth.

You wonder how everyone is still oblivious to what you two are doing.

.#####.

For lunch Thomas drinks red wine across from you. Lovely colour on his lips, against his pale skin. He takes notes out of your book, still remembering the fig, red lips and wine dripping down his chin.

He bats his eyelashes at you innocently.

You want to kiss the spill away but he takes a napkin before anyone else can notice.

.#####.

That night Damiano serves champagne with dinner and you decide to be bold. Even bolder than Thomas, you don’t care that everyone is watching when some of your drink drips down your chin.

“What the fuck is going on?” Vic asks, “How did you both get stupid? He somehow can’t eat normally anymore, you’re spilling everything over yourself. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m great,” you answer, “Just spilled something.”

Thomas looks at you fascinated. A little bit of pride sparking in his eyes, his gaze still at your lips while you’re thinking about all the things you want to do to him.

The rest of the dinner is quiet and civilised, no one calling you out on your bullshit, or stopping you to get deeper into this. After you finish your plate you get up and outside to clear your head.

Thomas follows you only minutes later to the back of the garden, hidden by trees and plants. He has the bottle of champagne in hand.

“Whatever you just thought of, you can do it, you know.”

He hands you the bottle. Thomas moans loud when you climb into his lap, tipping some champagne into his mouth that he willingly opens for you.

“God, Thomas. Stop masturbating in the wild,” you can hear Damiano say from the terrace and you quietly laugh against Thomas’ neck.

You let some spill over Thomas’ neck before you get some champagne on Thomas’ nipples and you lick the liquid away. Thomas shudders and moans under you, quieter this time. There’s champagne on his stomach and some that you lick out of his navel. Thomas squirms more and more under you the closer you get to his dick. He gasps when you spill cold champagne over it and lightly blow against the tip. Thomas’ hand grabs for your hair and you moan as well. He squirms more with every lick, every kiss to his sensitive skin.

“Fuck.”

You don’t do more than french kissing him but every reaction shows you that it does something for him.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna be able to hold that.”

You teasingly let your tongue play with his tip, which already draw the most moans out of him before, now the moans are turning into little whimpers before he bucks up his hips and cums.

“Sorry,” he says and uses his shirt to get the cum off your face, “I … I didn’t touch myself since we started this.”

“Interesting,” it’s absolutely not what you expected and you shamefully think about the times you touched yourself, you blush. Thomas looks at you. “You think you could do that again?”

His eyes go wide, another whimper escaping his lips.

“Before we fuck fuck?”

“That’s a possibility?”

“Oh, hell yes,” you laugh and Thomas enthusiastically nods his head. “No touching for you but maybe you can show me what that talented tongue can do with other things than a cherry stem later?”

“Yes,” you can feel his breath against the skin of your neck, “And then in a few days we can … switch?”

“Sure,” you say and leave another kiss on his lips before you get up.

You can't help but feel a sense of closeness and vulnerability, as if you're sharing a secret that only the pool water can hear.

On the way inside you see Damiano sitting by the open window and looking at you shocked when you enter from outside.

“Oh god, I am soooo sorry … On Thomas’ behalf.”

“What?”

“Wait, did you not he- see him?”

“No, I did, he sits in the grass,” you smile at him, “He smokes.”

“Thank god.”

He doesn’t know that you just licked off champagne from Thomas’ nipples. And his dick.

.#####.

Thomas joins you in your room half an hour later when you’re just taking a shower. As the warm water cascaded down your body, you let out a contented sigh. You always loved the soothing feeling a shower gives you. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the water wash away every thought that exists in your head.

You suddenly hear the bathroom open and footsteps approaching, you turn around and expect to see Thomas just grabbing a towel or to announce that he’s there but to your surprise he undresses himself and walks straight towards the shower.

“Hey,” you laugh, “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t resist,” he smirks, “And I think I promised this talented tongue to someone.”

He steps into the shower and wraps his long arms around you.

You lean into Thomas’ embrace and tilt your head up, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss. Your bodies pressing together, the water cascading down your skin as you explore each other's mouths.

As you continue to kiss, Thomas’ hands begin to wander, tracing patterns over your wet skin. You shiver at his touch, feeling a familiar warmth building between your legs. You press your body closer to his, silently asking for more.

He responds by trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, sending more shivers down your spine. Thomas nibbles gently at your earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

You stay there in the shower, lost in each other. Reluctantly, you pull away from each other and step out of the shower, wrapping each other in towels. Drying him you give him a knowing look, both of you feeling the heat between you.

He slowly leads you to your bed and follows closely after you when you fall down on it and then he’s between your legs. Smiling up to you.

“So,” you smile at him - getting your hands into his hair, “That talented tongue you’re so proud of?”

Thomas nods between your thighs, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight before him. With a shy kiss, he begins to explore every inch of your sensitive flesh. His tongue tracing every curve and fold with precision and skill. As you catch your breath, you look down at him and see the look of satisfaction and pride on his face. You smile and run your fingers through his hair, pulling a little harder.

As he continues to tease and tantalise you, you find yourself succumbing to the pleasure building within you, your breath coming in short gasps, arching your hips towards him and moaning with each flick of his tongue, and gentle suck of his lips. There’s a knock coming from Damiano’s room above and Thomas laughs when you can hear Damiano shout of the window to please stop.

The sensations become more intense with each passing moment. His tongue delves deeper, until finally you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You cling to the sheets as you shudder with ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from the peak of pleasure, Thomas’ face comes into view, his eyes full of satisfaction as he gazes at you with reverence.

You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling a sense of euphoria sweep over you. You start smiling when Thomas pulls himself up to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you. Holding you close. Your bodies entwine, and you bask in the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

When you can finally breathe again, you’re both flushed, your bodies still buzzing with desire.

"I think we've discovered the most sensual experience of all," you say.

He smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh, I think we've only just begun to scratch the surface here.”

As the night progresses you find yourself lost in each other’s company. Talking about everything and nothing. The dimly lit room seems to glow with a sense of intimacy all around you when Thomas falls asleep in his arms.

.#####.

The next morning there are no restraints anymore, you leave for the kitchen together but Thomas is still playing his games when Vic joins you at the table, still oblivious to everything.

Thomas chooses pineapple, bread and takes some honey, an unusual choice for him, but when he gets back to the table you know why he all of a sudden felt the craving for it. While he tries to get honey on his slice of bread, he drips honey on his thigh. On a spot you licked champagne off his skin last night.

“What a dilemma,” he says and Vic laughs while you blush. And somehow get even redder when Damiano enters the room.

“When?” he looks at you, then at Thomas, “When and where did this happen?”

“Here,” Thomas says, using his fingers to delicately take off a piece of pineapple from his plate, taking a playful bite first before he runs it along your lips, “Right under all your noses.”

Victoria looks at you shocked, and also searching for guidance in what’s going on: “Wait, what? You two are … Wait, are you fucking?” She slaps his shoulder. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“We didn’t even fuck yet,” Thomas says.

It’s the first time Ethan says something: “Well, whatever you two did last night, I’m sure it counts as sex.”

“Please wait with the fucking until you’re home,” Damiano looks at you, “Please.”

Thomas pouts at you from the side and shakes his head, probably thinking about the fact that he isn’t allowed to touch himself until then.

“Sure, that’s only a week.”

.#####.

@writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @h1ppieth1ngs, @paralianeyes, @livvyysstuff, @que–sera–sera, @romanoffswoman, @lovelyy-moonlight, @crwnnjules, @roisinlove123, @whitewolf-writes, @lizzylynch1, @fugg1977, @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27, @lizzylynch1, @gaiagoddess26, @ami--gami

#maneskin fanfiction #måneskin #maneskin #thomas raggi #maneskin x reader #maneskin x you #maneskin fanfic #maneskin imagine #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggy x reader #thomas raggi x yn #maneskin smut

127 notes · View notes