#at least it's subtle shade

[honorhearted]

"No, not poor."

Benjamin arched a brow, discreetly observing her from the corner of his eye. He knew a backhanded compliment when he heard one. "And have you received many accolades for your dancing, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked. "I'm just curious who deemed you the expert on such matters."

Emma's eyes gleamed and she turned toward him, almost as if she finally deemed him a subject of interest. "Reformed?" she echoed, intrigued. "You speak as if you're an expert on the subject, Mr. Tallmadge. What reformation do you require?"

Benjamin snorted. "As if I would tell you," he deflected, lifting his shoulders. "You should know better than most, Miss Woodhouse: the gossips of this town are ruthless. And being an American, I trust I already have their barbed arrows at the ready. There's no need to tempt them." Turning toward her, he added, "But for the sake of argument? Let's just say I have a penchant for verbal combat."

Emma hummed. "No matter. My former governess Miss Taylor, now Mrs. Weston, would very much digress if asked her good opinion on the subject. She's in need of no reformation at all, especially not now that she's become wed to a most gentile acquaintance."

For the second time that evening, Benjamin snorted. "And just who is Mrs. Weston to make her the head authority on what does and does not work?" he asked. "I'm sure she's a lovely woman, but you'll have to forgive me since my opinion remains unchanged." He swirled the glass of wine in his hand. "I'm glad of her happiness, naturally, but something tells me your support is a bit more self-serving. Far be it for me to listen to whispers, but it's been said that you are responsible for her match."

Unruffled as ever, Emma divulged, "It's to my understanding that those in the vicarage are more often in need of reform than us sinners cast aside after Sunday morning."

Benjamin was taking a sip of claret when she spoke. Nearly choking into his glass, he grimaced once the acidic beverage shot up his nose, leaving behind a tart, unpleasant burning sensation. Bringing a gloved hand over his mouth, he scowled at her before revealing, "My father is a man of God. I don't know who's twisted your opinions to such a...a heinously colorful degree, but I must ask: what authority on sin do you possess, Miss Woodhouse, that you can so readily judge?"

"Is my method so poor?"

"No, not poor." Not good either, but she was uncertain she could locate a more fitting adjective in the recesses of her memory.

"Do I seem like I only converse with students, Miss Woodhouse? ... if you feel that students and teachers are the only ones who can learn from one another, then I must unabashedly disagree. Sometimes, it is the educated who are the most in need of reform."

"Reformed?" She turned to face her companion fully, a brow raised in curiosity. "You speak as if you're an expert on the subject, Mr. Tallmadge. What reformation do you require?" her tone one of playful challenge; she was fond of a bit of verbal sparring, something she'd become practiced in as a child, "No matter. My former governess Miss Taylor, now Mrs. Weston, would very much digress if asked her good opinion on the subject. She's in need of no reformation at all, especially not now that she's become wed to a most gentile acquaintance."

A wicked thought came to her, one involving the poor character of a vicar she knew all too well, one perhaps better left unsaid in mixed company but subtly was a virtue Emma did not herself possess. "It's to my understanding that those in the vicarage are more often in need of reform than us sinners cast aside after Sunday morning."

[fungusqueen]

I'm thinking maybe for my next quilt, I'll work with a subdued desaturated color palette for a change...but honestly probably not!!

[lobsterplush]

Day 1-2: Cord length and types

Before you can make a project you need to select a cord and cut it to the length needed. There's many types of cord to choose from, each with their own properties. :

A. Limp cord, usually made out of twisted cotton, can be tough to use. It unravels and sometimes doesn't hold it's diameter- a tight knot can compress the cord. However, limp cord is the only type that doesn't hold it's past shape. It can be good for wall hangings where you don't want the hanging cords curly from being sold in a bundle. Since I'm not really into wall hangings I personally avoid this type.

B. Flexible cord like waxed braided cord is my favorite- the cord is strong and brightly colored, the ends don't unravel enough to be an issue, and the texture is smooth and nice on the hands. Sometimes sold in bundles, sometimes wrapped around a piece of cardboard.

C. Stiff cord is usually natural hemp fibers, which are sold in round bundles. This type is really good for trying out new designs without worrying about wasting fancy colored cord, plus the ends don't unravel. Be careful though- this cord is very hairy and can be lumpy and uneven. Natural fiber cord can also come in different colors and stiffness, but even limp natural fibers don't compress in a knot like cotton.

Try not to mix these cord types- limp cord is flattened in a knot with other types, making the knot uneven. Mixing natural fibers with braided cord is fine in certain projects but for the most part the mix of smooth versus hairy+lumpy is awkward.

Other types of cord include synthetic cord, which is limp and can unravel like cotton but can come in vivid colors and weird shapes like flat. I don't have much experience with these. Avoid elastic cords for macrame.

/\/\/\/\/\

^ Some cords don't unravel much and you can A) not worry about it. For cords that unravel you can B) tie the end in a knot, or for some synthetic cords C) singe/melt the endings with a lighter.

/\/\/\/\/\

One other thing to keep in mind is thickness- the width of the cord is usually given in millimeters (mm) but between you and me, tumblr, I don't think they know what a millimeter is. Who said that.

"1mm" is thin, good for smaller projects like jewelry. This is my default thickness. I've also seen 1mm be called "0.5mm." It doesn't matter much as long as it's thin macrame cord.

"2mm" is thick cord for smaller projects. I don't use thicker cord much because the thicker the cord the (slightly) easier it is for knots to unravel. 3mm and thicker starts getting unwieldy for my style of projects, but is common in stores because wall hangings got trendy.

/\/\/\/\/\

When it comes to the length of the cord many tutorials will just give you a length to cut. They give either the length for one specific project or there's a chart for bracelet/necklace/whatever. But people come in different sizes and having a 'one size fits all' measurement leads to wasted cord or a piece that's too small to wear. It can be a bit of a hassle. And I don't like having to dig out a ruler.

So I have my own method.

To measure by feel, use your chosen cord to figure out the length of the project (A). If it is a bracelet, wrap the cord around the wrist. You can make a necklace tight or loose. Whatever you like. Then, add like 3 or 4 inches, 15 to 20cm of bonus cord (B).

(The bonus cord is for you to hold onto when making the knots, and on longer strings it gives much needed wiggle room in case your knots eat up string.)

A and B together is the Project Length, or PL.

Next look at your project. Plan out what each string is doing- if it is used as a base string that goes the length of the project with no turns, it's length is 1 PL. Another string that is used in knots and has lots of turns can be 3 PL. The more PL, the more convoluted the path of the string.

For example, a series of square knots has two base strings and two strings that wrap around them. This project could be one cord, 2 PL, folded in half for the two base strings and a second, 6 PL, folded in half for the two wrapping strings.

So once you measure your project and decide on a PL, fold it back and forth until the cord is the desired length, and use that cord to measure the others in the project.

Another example with pics:

Two strings, natural hemp fiber, as straight as I could get them without taping them down lol. One is 2 PL and the other is 4PL, each folded in half. This makes two 1 PL strings and two 2 PL strings.

The long cords were used to make knots around the base cords, which are straight. (the wrapping cords ended up having more leftovers, but I chose a knot that's really light on the string. And I used string-saving techniques, oops)

(I didn't give myself that much room for the finishing knot, oops x2)

Final product with the strings trimmed! Don't worry about leftovers, the longer ones can be used in other projects or small samples for testing designs. It's better to overestimate the needed cord then to go through the circus of ending up short.

Anyway this way I can give you a design, say the Project Length of each string, and you can use that to build sweeping necklaces to child bracelets.

btw you can always look around at other tutorials of similar designs if you just want a solid number to work with.

(Macre-May Prompt list)

[lovebugdotcom]

Values…………….. *punches a wall*

[illyrianbitch]

Body Count

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Anxious about how your lack of experience compares to Azriel's, you ask him about his body count. Unfortunately for him, he misunderstands the question gravely.

based on this funny lil request!

Warnings: angst if you squint, miscommunication, silly az and silly cassian making fun of silly az, mentions of death/killing, a sweet lil kiss! fluff!

Word Count: 3.3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You’ve always had a soft spot for Azriel. 

It wasn’t just his mysterious aura and brooding looks that made him irresistibly attractive to you— though those definitely added to the appeal. Azriel was thoughtful. He was attentive. He seemed to understand you and your needs in a way that none of your other friends could. 

Your feelings for him had grown over time, blossoming into a full-blown crush.

And for the most part, it seemed like Azriel enjoyed your company too. 

There was a playful flirtation between you two, a spark that you hoped would ignite into something more. It had grown even hotter these past two months, through conversations that were held entirely too close to one another, stolen glances, and brief touches that sent shivers down your spine. 

But deep down in your stomach, there was something holding you back— a bitter, nauseating feeling. You weren’t just nervous, you were insecure. 

It wasn’t a secret that Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had their fair share of lovers. After all, they were all extremely attractive and had lived for centuries longer than you. But the idea of Azriel’s love life had begun to spin itself into an anxious, terrifying web in your mind. You weren’t experienced in such matters— at least, not nearly as experienced as Azriel must've been. The thought was daunting to you. Terrifying, really.

It was late at night now, and the last of your family had bid their goodnights, retreating to their respective rooms and homes. You found yourself alone with Azriel in the dimly lit living room, the small crackling fire mixing with the remnants of the celebration that lingered in the air— the heady scent of wine and the distinct smells of each of your loved ones. 

You stole a glance at Azriel, noticing the way his cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes bright with mirth. His shadows were calm, dancing playfully around his feet and his arms. He caught your gaze instantly, offering you a lopsided smile, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a way that made your heart flutter.

This was your chance— a perfect, quiet moment to confess something to him. To tell him how you felt. 

But the nauseating feeling in your stomach bubbled up once more. You bit the inside of your cheek. Perhaps it was the perfect moment indeed. Not to confess your feelings quite yet, but to get rid of the spider web of overthinking you’d created. 

Summoning up the courage, you leaned closer to him, the alcohol emboldening you. "Hey, Az," you began, your voice soft and hesitant.

Azriel turned to you. "Yeah?" 

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "Can I ask you something?"

Azriel’s face seemed to soften. "Of course."

You held his gaze for a moment, taking in the hues of his eyes that seemed more golden in the firelight. A small blush rose to your cheeks and you swallowed nervously, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. 

"What is your body count?" 

Azriel blinked. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as his mouth slightly parted, and you watched as his gaze seemed to dance around your face. He opened his mouth to respond, but a hiccup escaped him instead of words.

"I'm just... I was just wondering," you stammered, your cheeks burning hotter with heat. "If you're comfortable sharing, that is."

Azriel smiled at you, letting out another small hiccup as he repositioned himself to lean closer.  His shadows seemed to reach out towards you, a subtle, almost subconscious gesture of reassurance. "It's alright," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't mind sharing."

He took a moment to compose himself. “8,754.”

As if you’d been doused in icy water, your alcohol-induced haze dissipated instantly. 

"Oh," you breathed out, your eyes widening in shock. "Oh."

You would’ve tried harder to hide your shock, but the only thing you could focus on now was the large, heavy, number. It hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of it settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. 

You expected a large number, sure. You told yourself that you could come to terms with it, learn how to be comfortable with the gap in your experiences. But you hadn’t prepared yourself for this large of a number, and suddenly you felt… uneasy. 

Azriel watched you closely, his expression quickly filling with concern. "Are you alright?" 

Azriel had been with over 8,754 people?

You nodded slowly. Unable to meet his gaze, you casted your eyes towards the carpet in front of him. "Yeah, I'm fine," you murmured, "I, uh, I think I need to go home. I must’ve drank too much."

Azriel seemed to sober up immediately. His shadows, which had been lazily swirling around his feet, suddenly grew still, sensing his shift in mood. He sat up straight, a look of worry crossing his features. "Here, let me walk you to your room," he offered, his wings slightly unfurling as if ready to rise.

You avoided his gaze once more, shaking your head quickly. "It's alright. I got it," you insisted, standing up a bit too quickly. You swayed slightly, and his wings twitched as if he wanted to reach out and steady you. You quickly regained your balance. "Goodnight, Az."

Azriel watched you go, shadows trailing after you slightly before retracting back to him. His wings sagged, a sense of helplessness washing over him as he watched your retreating form disappear down the hallway.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel was tense. Every muscle in his body, every movement he made, it all felt constrained– stressed. Troubled. His shadows swirled restlessly around him, their hurried movements perfectly mirroring the deep agitation he felt in his gut.

Days had passed since his last proper conversation with you. He missed it— missed your presence, missed your laughter. He’d grown so used to your company, had begun to look forward to your conversations and the small flirty banter that he’d gained the confidence to indulge in. But you were distant now— awkward, even. And it was driving him mad. 

It was hot out, the afternoon sun blaring down on him and Cassian as the sound of clashing blades filled the air. Heavy sweat trickled down their faces, to a point where Azriel’s hair clung to his forehead like glue. 

But Azriel’s mind was anywhere but the training ring. And his brother quickly noticed.

"Alright," Cassian said, stepping back and lowering his weapon. "Either you're losing to stroke my ego, or something's going on."

Azriel grumbled, parrying another blow. "I'd never lose for your ego.” His wings twitched in annoyance. 

Cassian frowned, a scrutinizing gaze watching Azriel's movements closely. Something was definitely off. He tied his hair back up, securing it tightly. "Alright, spill it."

"No," Azriel replied curtly, his grip tightening on his weapon. His shadows seemed to wrap tighter around his form, as if trying to shield him from the conversation.

"No?" Cassian echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to talk about my feelings with you. We're not twelve.”

Cassian let out a small scoff, raising his hands in exasperation. "By the Cauldron, Az, just tell me why you've got a stick up your ass."

Azriel glared at him. A moment passed. And then he sighed, sheathing his weapon. 

"Y/N has been avoiding me, it seems."

Cassian frowned. "Are you sure?"

The question only brought a scowl to Azriel’s face, who threw Cassian a glare. 

"Yes, Cassian. I'm sure."

There was an itchy, prickling feeling of annoyance filtering through Azriels skin. His shadows flared out briefly before settling back into their usual orbit.

"Well, what did you do?"

Azriel’s shadows twisted tighter and his wings rustled uneasily.

"I didn't do anything.” 

Cassian gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms. "Really?"

Azriel threw him another withering glare. But when Cass only responded with a raised eyebrow, Azriel’s shoulders sagged slightly. "At least, nothing that I'm aware of."

"Alright," Cass said, "Maybe you offended her somehow. What happened the last time things were normal? Can you remember?"

Azriel paused. He remembered quite clearly despite the drunken haze he had been in. He grimaced as the memory drifted into his mind, bright and clear as day. 

"She asked me for my body count.”

Cassian’s eyes widened. He stilled, leaning forward slightly. "And?"

"And I told her.”

There was a pensive look on Cassian’s face, a furrow forming between his brows as he processed Azriel's words. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What is your body count?" 

Exactly like that other night, Azriel replied without hesitation. "8,754.”

Cassian coughed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I-I’m sorry?" he spluttered, caught off guard by the staggering number.

Azriel's confusion deepened, a frown marring his features. "You know this.”

"No," Cassian countered, shaking his head emphatically. “I do not know this.”

Azriel clenched his jaw, offering Cassian a cold unamused and irritated stare. “Yes, you do.”

"Apparently not.” Cassian let out a scoff. “Hell, I would’ve remembered if you slept with almost nine thousand people, Az. That's more than me."

Azriel’s face twisted into a scowl, a deep crease forming between his brows. His wings flared slightly. 

"Slept with? What the hell are you talking about?" 

Realization flickered in Cassian’s widened eyes, and suddenly, an understanding dawned on him. "Oh," he breathed out, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He let out a hearty laugh. "Got all the skills in the world but that brain still fails ya, huh Az?" 

Azriel fought the urge to send a swift hit to his brother's jaw, if only to knock the amused grin off his face. 

"Can you be serious for one godsdamned minute?" Azriel snapped.

Cassian's laughter subsided, his expression sobering as he met Azriel's gaze— only slightly. The grin still persisted. "Body count doesn’t refer to your kill count," he explained, "It’s how many people you’ve fucked."

Azriel's face dropped and the color drained from his cheeks. From behind him, his wings fell limp. "You can’t be serious.”

"Deadly serious, brother.”

Azriel glanced to the ground, his mind racing through that moment with you. He thought back to your response, to that small “Oh” that haunted him, to the way your eyes widened. He’d simply assumed that you were disgusted by the amount of lives he’d taken, that you’d spent the night imagining how much blood was on his hands. For some reason, this new reality of what the question meant— it felt even more intimate. Oh gods.

"So does Y/n think that I..." he trailed off.

"That you've fucked almost nine thousand people?" Cassian finished for him, a subtle grimace painted on his features.

"But I haven't," Azriel protested.

"Well, you should probably be telling her that." 

Azriel didn't waste another moment. He turned on his heel, desperate to immediately find you and explain the very apparent miscommunication. 

"Wait!" Cassian called out. Azriel paused, turning around with an impatient glare. 

"Take a bath. You stink," Cassian said, wrinkling his nose for emphasis.

Azriel's glare deepened, and he flipped Cassian off before continuing his stride toward the exit.

Cassian's laughter boomed behind him, the sound trailing after Azriel as he walked away. "eight thousand seven hundred and fifty-four," Cassian muttered to himself, still chuckling in disbelief.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel rushed down the hallway. Following Cassian’s unasked for advice, he was freshly bathed, hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. His shadows flitted nervously around his feet, his wings twitching restlessly at his back. 

He had no time to waste. Azriel really liked you. He needed to find you and clear up the misunderstanding before it began to fester into something deeper, something much harder to clean up. 

He found you in your room, catching you just as you were about to leave. “Y/n,” he said, as he came to a stop in your doorway. His voice was a bit louder than he intended.

You jumped, letting out a small scream as you spun to face him.  You caught his gaze as your hand flew to your heart. “Azriel,” you breathed out, a nervous smile playing on your lips as you steadied your breathing. “You scared me.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, his wings shifting slightly– a small, but clear sign of his embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said softly.

You let out a small laugh. “Hi, Az.” 

His smile grew. “Hi Y/n,” he responded, walking further into your room. “Are you heading out?”

You blinked in an attempt to break away from his gaze, casting a quick glance down towards your window. “Oh, yeah. I was just gonna go walk about Velaris, get some fresh air.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment before asking, “Would you like some company?”

You hesitated too, a part of you wanting to say yes. But then the infamous number came to mind, and the bitter, nauseating feeling returned. “Maybe another time?” you said, trying to sound as genuine as possible.

Azriel could tell you meant it, but the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Alright,” he responded softly, his wings drooping slightly. “Enjoy your walk.”

A wave of sadness rolled through you at his response, at the way his shadows seemed to still at your rejection. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in his wet hair and the way his eyes seemed to plead with you. 

“I’ll see you later,” you said, offering him a small smile before making a move to side-step him. 

Before he could overthink it, Azriel reached out and gently grabbed your arm. The touch was soft, but it stopped you in your tracks. You turned back to him, finding yourself suddenly very close to him, faces only inches away.

His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. A giddy flutter spread through you as his touch sent warmth racing through your veins. You melted into his grip, feeling a hunger for his closeness after just a few days without it. His gaze held yours, intense and searching, before flickering down to your lips. You took a deep breath.

“I’ve taken 8,754 lives,” Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and hesitant.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You took a step back, properly facing him now, trying to process his words. “What?”

Azriel looked sheepish, his eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty. 

His shadows fluttered around him.

“The other night, you asked me what my body count was. I told you 8,754.”

You nodded slowly. “I remember.”

“I thought you were asking how many people I’d killed. Not—” he paused, a small blush reaching his cheeks. “Not how many people I’ve slept with.”

Your lips parted in an O of realization. You took in his face, observing how his shadows swirled tirelessly around him. Azriel offered you a small, unsure smile. A small laugh left your lips.

“Why would I be asking you how many people you’ve killed?” you finally asked. Your voice was soft with confusion and a hint of amusement. A small gleam grew in the shadowsinger’s eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Azriel responded honestly. “Why were you asking how many people I’ve slept with?” 

You blushed, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “It’s silly.”

Azriel reached forward, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. His shadows wrapped around your wrist where he held you. You fluttered at the sudden closeness, feeling a rush of warmth and nerves flow through your body. 

“It’s not,” he insisted softly, his eyes holding yours with unwavering sincerity.

“I just wanted to prepare myself. I haven’t… I’m not experienced in these types of things.” You paused, holding his gaze for a moment. And then the corners of your lips tugged into a smile. “But gods, it’s good to know I don’t have to compete with the experience of almost nine thousand previous lovers.”

Azriel’s expression softened, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “You never have to compete with anyone, Y/n. Especially not with me.”

A warmth settled in your chest. His thumb stroked your hand, a soothing rhythm that seemed to cause butterflies in your stomach with every touch. 

“Well, that’s good to know,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah?” 

Azriel’s voice was soft now, a low cadence that made you feel like puddy in his hands. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a small smile.

The smile on his face grew further. You traced the movement with your eyes, taking in the small smile lines and dimples that formed. His smile dropped slightly as he frowned, brows furrowing slightly. 

“Wait.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Hmm?”

“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed 8,754 people?

 “I know you have your reasons.” You shrugged gently. “Also, I don’t have to compete with dead people.”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, as if a weight had been lifted off him. A chuckle left his mouth. It was warm and genuine, and the sound resonated deeply within you. “Just one of the many reasons why I like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“You like me?

Azriel nodded, his gaze unwavering— something soft, almost sacred. “I do.”

A rush of warmth spread through you at his confession. You took a moment to let the words sink in. Your grin widened. “I knew it.”

Azriel shook his head, a smile of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wasn’t really trying to hide it.”

Your grin widened even more and you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. His thumb continued its gentle rhythm on your hand.  “Do you feel the same way?” he asked. 

“I wasn’t really trying to hide it,” you admitted, mirroring his previous words with a soft smile.

Azriel’s expression seemed to soften further, his eyes reflecting a warm sense of longing. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. 

Slowly, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek delicately, his touch sending a shiver down your body. You took a deep breath, feeling his scarred fingers run alongside your cheek. He met your eyes again, his gaze heavy, seeking something— permission. 

“Can I kiss you now?” 

Words eluded you for a moment as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You simply nodded, breath catching in your throat as you whispered, “Please.”

For another fleeting moment, his hand cradled your face delicately, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And then he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was sweet and fervent.

It was shy at first— a hesitant, tentative meeting of lips that conveyed unspoken feelings that had never been fully addressed until now. You welcomed the warmth of his lips against yours, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming your senses. You pressed yourself further into his touch, fingers moving to tangle themselves in his hair as you pulled him closer. 

Azriel let out a sound of content as the kiss deepened, his shadows wrapping around you both like a protective embrace. You felt their cool, feather touch around your body, felt as lone tendrils weaved through your hair. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Azriel rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed as he savored the closeness between you. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your cheek. 

“I’m glad we cleared that up,” he murmured.

You let out a soft laugh. 

“Me too.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark

azriel tag list🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

[freshl6ve]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓. 𝐒 | 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄

⭑.ᐟ : “𝐘/𝐍!” 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭’𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨��𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, and I could hear the frustration in his tone. “I need your help in here, and I need it now.”

I walked up the stairs, heading towards the bathroom and I was met with the sight of Matt, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with Nick and Chris trying to apply the black eye paint.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of them struggling, and I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms.“Having some trouble there?”

Matt glanced my way, a mixture of relief and annoyance on his face. “You have no idea,” he grumbled. “These idiots can’t seem to get this right to save their lives.”

Nick shot Matt an offended look, while Chris just rolled his eyes. “Hey, we’re doing our best, okay?” Nick retorted. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

I chuckled at their bickering and stepped forward, saying, “Okay, you two, wash your hands. I’ll take it from here.” Nick and Chris reluctantly complied, washing their hands in the sink while I moved towards Matt, studying his face.

As I hovered over him sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I couldn’t help but tease him. “You need to give them a little credit. They weren’t that bad.” He shot me a sidelong glare, clearly not amused. “Yeah, right. They made me look like I got into a fight with a raccoon.”

I stifled a laugh, trying to maintain a serious expression. “Well, at least now we know that raccoon makeup isn’t your look. Stick to Batman.” He grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Just get on with it, will you?”

I chuckled again and began to apply the eye makeup, carefully coating his lids with the black paint. As I worked, we fell into a comfortable silence, my fingers gently tracing his face. Our proximity was electric, the bathroom suddenly feeling smaller and more intimate.

I could feel his gaze on me, studying me as I focused on my task. Time seemed to slow as I finished the first eye and moved on to the second. Every touch of my fingers against his skin sent a jolt through me, the atmosphere thick with undeniable tension.

My back had started to ache from leaning over for so long, and the subtle shifting was giving it away. Matt, noticing my discomfort, whispered to me. “Sit on my lap, baby, you’ve been on your feet long enough.”

My breath hitched slightly at his casual use of the pet name, but I complied, my legs straddling his lap as I continued to apply the paint. From this position, I was even closer to him, our faces almost touching. His breath was warm against my skin and sent shivers down my spine.

As I continued applying the paint, I could feel Matt’s hands slowly making their way around my waist. He gripped me firmly, holding me in place so I didn’t fall backwards. The warmth of his touch sent sparks shooting through me, and I found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

I finished applying the paint and stepped back, taking a moment to admire my work. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. “Nick,” I called out, “do you have a small towel you don’t use?”

Nick’s voice echoed from his room as he responded, “Yeah, there should be one in the cabinet next to the tub!” I nodded and opened up the cabinet, rummaging through it until I found a small, unused towel.

As I returned to Matt, I settled back into his lap, the towel in my hand. I began to gently rub off the excess of the black eye paint, making sure to leave a faint, lighter shade. The process was slow and intimate, our faces close together once again.

“There all done,” I breathed, getting off his lap and gesturing for him to look in the mirror.

He stood up and moved to the mirror, studying his reflection. The black paint around his eyes accentuated the sharp angles of his face, making him look every bit the dark and mysterious Batman. He turned to me, a satisfied grin on his face.

He stepped towards me, his arms encircling my waist. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a slow, passionate kiss.

The world around us faded away as he deepened the kiss, his hands pulling me even closer to him. The tenderness behind the kiss left me breathless and weak at the knees.

Just as I was completely lost in the kiss, the moment was interrupted by the sound of Nick’s voice. “Alright, get a room,” he teased, standing in the doorway. Matt pulled away, a mischievous grin on his face, still holding me close to him.

Nick stepped closer to take a better look at Matt, studying the final product. “You did an amazing job, Y/N,” he admitted, a hint of surprise in his voice.

I smiled at the compliment, feeling a sense of pride in my work. “Thanks,” I replied. “I’m just glad it turned out alright.”

Just as the conversation died down, Chris burst into the room. “The party is almost about to start, we should all get going!” he exclaimed, a sense of urgency in his voice.

We all shared a collective groan at the interruption, the moment of peace shattered by Chris’s announcement. “Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Matt muttering, reluctantly releasing me from his arms.

As we all made our way downstairs and through the hallway, Matt veered off to his room, retrieving his car keys from his bedside dresser. He then caught up with the rest of us in the garage, where we filed into his car in a chaotic and haphazard manner.

Matt climbed into the driver’s seat, and I scooted into the passenger seat beside him. The other two filed into the back, jostling and laughing with one another as they buckled their seatbelts.

Matt flicked a button on the visor and the garage door slowly creaked open, revealing the night. He reversed out of the garage and pulled away, the engine purring. I leaned back in my seat, the streetlights flashing through the windows as we made our way to the house where the party was being hosted.

The car came to a stop at a red light, and Matt took the opportunity to glance over at me. His hand found its way to my thigh, resting there in a possessive yet tender gesture. The touch sent a rush of heat through me, my heart skipping a beat.

Matt returned his gaze to the road, his expression a picture of nonchalance. His hand, however, remained on my thigh, his fingers tracing small, lazy circles on my skin, as if he was completely unaware of the effect his touch was having on me.

I could feel myself growing flushed, the warmth of his hand on my thigh sending tingles through my body. As the light turned green and we resumed driving, I wondered if he was intentionally trying to get a reaction out of me, or if he was truly oblivious to the way his touch was affecting me.

We pulled up in front of the house, the sound of music and laughter pouring out of the open windows. The parking lot was already filled with a few cars, a sign that we weren’t the only ones who were fashionably late. I unbuckled my seatbelt and gave one last glance at Matt, who removed his hand from my thigh and gave me a sly smirk.

We all exited the car, the cool night air a welcome relief after being cramped in the vehicle. As we made our way to the front door, Matt reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers together. His grip was firm and confident, and I found myself feeling a sense of comfort from his gentle touch.

Together, we followed the others into the party, the noise and energy of the room washing over us. The house was packed to the brim with people dressed in all sorts of elaborate costumes, the scent of cheap cologne and alcohol hanging in the air.

We wandered through the crowded room, and several people stopped us to compliment our matching costumes. Matt, in his Batman costume, and I, dressed as Catwoman, drew plenty of stares and admiring glances.

Throughout the entire night, I had been by Matt's side at all times. He wasn't one for parties; he much preferred the comfort of his own home and his own company. But tonight, he was putting up with the loud music and the rowdy atmosphere because he wanted to be with me.

Every time someone attempted to pull him away to chat or join a game, he would politely decline, his hand finding its way back to mine, or wrapping around my waist, as if to silently assert that his focus was on me and no one else.

I stood quietly next to Matt who was currently engaged in conversation with Chris, Nick, and a few other friends. They were all clustered together, laughing and joking. His hand held mine firmly, his thumb idly tracing patterns on my skin.

I noticed that instead of alcohol like most others were drinking, Matt had opted for a red solo cup filled with soda or water. He never was one to drink at these kinds of events.

As the conversation continued, I leaned into Matt's side, listening in on the banter. His free arm instinctively wrapped around my shoulders, drawing me closer to him. Occasionally, he would chime in or laugh at a joke, but for the most part, he seemed content just to have me by his side.

My head was slightly fuzzy from the couple of drinks I'd had, and the loud music and laughter around me had heightened my desire to be closer to Matt. I leaned in, my body pressing against his as I whispered into his ear. “Dance with me,” I pleaded, my words slightly slurred but laced with a seductive edge.

“Not now, baby,” Matt whispered back, his voice calm and nonchalant. He gave my waist a gentle squeeze before continuing his conversation with the others.

A pang of slight disappointment shot through me, a mixture of the alcohol in my system and my desire to be closer to him.

I positioned myself in front of Matt, my back pressed against his chest. I rocked my hips, moving my body against his, the fabric of our clothing rubbing against each other. Matt's arm instinctively found its way around my waist, his hand resting on my hip.

He continued to talk with the group as if nothing was happening, sipping casually from his cup. His expression remained calm and nonchalant, although the heat of my body against his was impossible to ignore.

I continued to move against him, each gyration of my hips a silent plea for his attention. But Matt maintained his cool composure, his conversations with the group never faltering. The tension between us was palpable, but he stubbornly refused to give any indication of it to the rest of the world.

Matt's breath hitched, and a low moan escaped him, the sound lost among the music and laughter. He leaned down, his lips close to my ear as he whispered, “Behave yourself, baby.” His voice was low and rough, a hint of warning and desire threading through it.

Despite his words, his grip on my hip tightened. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, contrasting with his outward nonchalance. The mixture of his proximity and the alcohol in my system was making it increasingly difficult to ‘behave myself’.

I turned to look up at him, my eyes roaming over his features. His dark, tousled hair, the sharp angles of his face emphasised by the eye paint, the way his baggy clothes made me want to take them off and explore what’s underneath them — all of it made him even more attractive. I leaned in close, my breath against his skin.

I pressed myself against him, my body flush against his. “Can we go home?” I whispered into his ear, my voice low and sultry. The music and the noise from the party faded into the background as I focused on the feel of his body against mine.

Matt chuckled lowly, his grip on me tightening. His voice was a low husky tone when he replied, “Can’t control yourself, can you?” He lowered his head further, his lips close to my ear. “Patience, baby. We’ll leave soon.”

Matt’s lips found the sensitive skin of my neck, trailing kisses along the column of my throat. As he did, I threaded my fingers through his hair, my touch both reverent and desperate. Our bodies swayed in rhythm with the music, the movements almost languid as we clung to each other.

Matt continued his ministrations, his lips lavishing kisses upon my neck and jaw. His free hand, the one holding the cup, gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each sway of our bodies brought us closer together, the air around us thick with a heady mix of desire and suppressed tension.

We were suddenly interrupted by a bright flash of light, the camera of Chris's phone capturing our intimate moment. I heard him calling out, “Get a room!”

Matt lifted his head from where it had been buried in the crook of my neck, his smirk visible even in the dim light. He gave Chris a casual salute, unperturbed by the invasion of our privacy.

I twisted in his arms, my face now facing his. I looked up into his eyes, my own pleading and earnest. “Please,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the music. “Let's go home.” My hands gripped his costume, using the fabric to pull myself up closer to him, our bodies flush against each other.

Matt gazed down at me, his eyes softening slightly at the needy expression on my face. He leaned down, his lips brushing gently against mine in a quick, affectionate peck. “Okay,” he murmured against my mouth. “We'll go.”

Matt reached down and intertwined his fingers with mine. He shot a glance at Nick and Chris, the two of them seemingly unfazed by our need to leave, their eyes already returning to their various conversations.

“We’re heading home,” Matt announced, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the noise. “Get an Uber or call me when you want a ride back.” With that, we began to make our way towards the front door.

Matt led the way, his firm grip on my hand guiding me through the crowd. As we navigated the sea of bodies, he pushed his way through, making sure to keep me close.

The cool air hit us as soon as we stepped outside, a welcome relief from the stifling heat and noise of the party. Matt didn’t stop, continuing to lead me to where he’d parked the car.

Matt opened the passenger door for me, ushering me into the seat before closing it behind me. He then walked around to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning the car on.

The familiar hum of the engine filled the silence, the quiet only interrupted by the soft music from the radio and the sound of his breathing. As we started heading home, the warm glow of the streetlights illuminated his features, each passing second bringing us closer to our destination.

I watched him drive, my eyes tracing the lines of his face, particularly the area around his eyes where the black paint outlined them. The way his focus was solely on the road, his hands firm on the wheel, the way his body moved as he shifted gears, was like a silent taunt, fueling the heat already building within me.

I tried to act nonchalant, keeping my hands still in my lap, but my thighs pressed together involuntarily, a silent plea that he could likely see.

I reached down, grabbing his right hand from the wheel, and pulled it up to my thigh. His eyes flicked towards me, a hint of surprise on his face. “Baby, what are you doing?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I bit my lip, shifting slightly in my seat, the need building within me. “Touch me,” I pleaded, my voice low and breathy. He glanced over at me, his gaze lingering on my face. “We’re almost home,” he replied, his tone firm but laced with a hint of restraint.

I could see the internal battle playing out in his eyes, the struggle between his own desire and his determination to wait until we were home. His hand remained stationary on my thigh, but his fingers flexed slightly, a small sign of his weakening resolve.

“Please,” I repeated, my voice almost a whisper. My own self-control was slipping, and I knew that if he didn’t give me what I needed soon, I would snap. “I can’t wait that long.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and raspy. “You’ll have to,” he responded, his eyes never leaving the road. “We’ll be home soon.”

I huffed, frustrated by his unyielding stubbornness. I continued to cling to his hand, the contact grounding me but doing nothing to soothe the fire burning within.

The car ride felt like an eternity, each second passing by in agonizing slowness. I fidgeted in my seat, my thighs clenching and unclenching beneath his hand, my body silently begging for him to do something, anything, to relieve the tension that was coiling tighter with each passing mile.

Matt continued to drive, his face calm and collected, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on me. His fingers moved slightly against my thigh, the light caress just enough to tease but not satisfy.

The car pulled into the garage, the door closing behind us with a soft click. Matt switched off the ignition, the sudden quiet feeling almost deafening.

He looked over at me, the faint light of the garage illuminating the planes of his face. His eyes raked over me, taking in my state: the way my breathing was ragged, the way my body was tense, the way I was practically squirming in my seat.

Matt got out of the car first, his movements fluid as he stood up. He closed the door behind him, the thud echoing in the silent garage.

I followed suit, stumbling slightly as I got out of the passenger seat. My legs felt weak, my body thrumming with pent-up desire. I closed the door, my eyes never leaving him as he made his way around the car towards me.

Matt grabbed my hand and tugged me forward, his grip firm and urgent. As soon as we were inside he led me quickly upstairs, my feet barely touching the steps as he practically dragged me along.

Once we reached the top, he pushed me against the wall in front of the staircase, his body pinning me in place. His breath was ragged, his eyes dark with need.

The house was cloaked in shadow, the only light coming from the glow of the moon filtering in through the kitchen window. It cast a soft, silvery glow over the room, creating an intimate ambiance.

Matt pressed closer to me, his body flush against mine. His hands roamed across my skin, leaving a trail of heat and gooseflesh. “You’re so needy,” he murmured, his lips against my ear. “So desperate for my touch.”

Matt's mouth moved over my collarbone, his lips trailing a path to my ear. “You couldn’t even wait until we got home for me to touch you,” he whispered, his voice rough and low. “You were all up on me, grinding against me at the party.”

His hands gripped my waist tighter, his fingers digging into my skin. “So desperate for my attention,” he continued. “So impatient for my touch.”

His words, combined with his hands on my body, sent shivers down my spine, a heat pooling in my core. Matt's proximity was intoxicating, his body and words making it impossible to think straight.

I whimpered softly, my head tilting back against the wall, exposing my neck to him. Matt immediately latched onto the exposed skin, kissing and biting lightly. “You need it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice husky. “You need me to touch you, to take you.”

Matt's lips moved along my neck, the words low and commanding. “Will you behave if I give you what you want?” he murmured against my skin, his hands still gripping my waist tightly.

I nodded, my breath hitching as his teeth grazed my pulse point. “Yes, god, yes. I’ll behave,” I breathed, my words a desperate plea.

Matt pulled back slightly, his face close to mine. He studied my expression for a moment before murmuring, “Good,” and kissing my deeply.

His lips on mine were everything I’d been craving. The world condensed to the feeling of his mouth moving against mine, the taste of him overwhelming my senses.

Matt’s hands on my waist pulled me closer, his body pressing against me. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against my lips, seeking entrance. I willingly obliged, our mouths moving in a familiar dance, a symphony of desire and need. My hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft locks as our bodies entwined.

As we pulled apart for a moment, Matt’s voice was low and commanding. “Jump,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to the back of my thighs, urging me up. On instinct, I obeyed, leaping up and wrapping my legs around his waist as he picked me up with ease.

He held me tightly, my body cradled against him as he turned, pinning me against the wall. His mouth returned to mine, kissing me with a renewed intensity, our bodies pressed closely together. The sound of our breathy gasps echoed through the dark house, the atmosphere charged with the need for each other.

Matt’s hands held my thighs securely, his fingers digging into my skin slightly. He held me in place, my back against the wall, as he kissed me fervently. The heat of his body against mine was almost overwhelming, every touch and movement stoking the fire within me.

With ease, Matt carried me down the hallway, his footsteps barely making a sound. I held onto him tightly, trusting him to guide us to his bedroom. As we reached the door, he nudged it open, carrying me inside and kicking it shut behind us.

Matt gently set me down on the bed, the darkness of the room creating an intimate ambiance. He stepped back, slowly removing his sweater and, piece by piece, shedding his clothes.

I watched as Matt removed his clothes, my hands reaching out to help him. My fingers grazed his skin, undressing him slowly, the gesture both sensual and reverent.

His eyes never left mine as I undressed him, the intensity of his gaze making my heart race. As each piece of fabric fell away, leaving him completely bare in front of me, I could feel my desire growing, my fingers lingering on his skin as though committing his form to memory.

The faint light from the moonlight filtering underneath the blinds illuminated him, his form slightly silhouetted. The shadows played across his features, highlighting the strong lines of his physique. The world was fuzzy and out of focus, my eyes focused solely on him, the rest of the room a blur.

I knelt before him, my movements slow and intentional. My hands reached out, tracing over his hips and down to his thighs, my eyes never leaving his. I could see the desire in his eyes, the way they darkened with anticipation.

My hands trembled slightly as they reached the waistband of his remaining clothing, my fingers teasing at the fabric as I prepared to remove it. My breathing was shallow, my own anticipation building with each passing second.

I felt his hand on mine, guiding it slightly, a silent indication of his permission. I took a deep breath, my heart beating wildly, and slowly started to pull down his remaining clothes, exposing him fully to me.

My eyes widened slightly as I took in the sight of him, bare and vulnerable before me. I reached out, tentatively, my fingers brushing against his soft skin. He let out a slow breath, his body relaxing under my touch.

Emboldened, I wrapped my fingers around him, feeling his warmth. He moaned softly, his hips bucking forward slightly. I looked up at him, seeking approval. His eyes were closed, his face a mask of pure pleasure.

I began to move my hand slowly, exploring the silky smoothness of his skin and the hardness beneath. His breathing hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“That's it,” Matt encouraged, his voice low and husky. “Just like that. You're doing so well.” His hand covered mine, guiding my movements to speed up and tighten my grip. “A little harder now,”

I followed Matt’s instructions, my hand moving faster and tighter around him. He let out a loud groan, his hips jerking forward eagerly. Pre-cum dripped from the tip, making my hand slick.

“Can I…?” I asked hesitantly, looking up at him. He opened his eyes, the heat in them making me blush. “Can you what?” he asked, his voice barely audible. “Can I… taste you?” I managed to stammer out, my face flushing crimson.

Matt's face softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “No need to ask, baby,” he murmured. “Whatever you want, it's yours. Come here...” He guided my head down, his hand tangling in my hair. “Open up for me...”

I parted my lips, my tongue darting out to lick away the bead of pre-cum at his tip. He shuddered, his fingers tightening in my hair. Encouraged, I took him into my mouth, my lips stretching around his girth as I began to suck.

Matt let out a low groan, his body tensing. “Relax your throat, baby,” he instructed, his voice strained. “You don’t have to take all of me, just follow your instincts.”

I did as he said, relaxing my throat and taking him deeper. The head of his cock hit the back of my throat and I swallowed around him, my nose pressing against his pelvis. He cried out, his grip on my hair tightening.

“Pull back, baby,” Matt gasped out, his voice hoarse. “Not gonna last if you keep doing that...” I pulled back, my cheeks hollowed as I sucked hard. He let out a string of curse words, his hips jerking forward. “Shit, Stop, Y/N...”

I ignored his plea, instead bobbing my head faster, my hands tightening on his thighs. I could feel his muscles tensing beneath my touch, his breath hitching in his chest. “Y/N...” he panted, his voice a warning. “I’m gonna...”

His words trailed off into a moan as he spilled into my mouth, his body convulsing. I swallowed every drop, my hands continuing to pump his shaft until he was spent. I pulled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and looking up at him with a satisfied smile.

I stood up slowly, my lips meeting his in a deep, passionate kiss. He tasted like salt and sweetness, and I couldn't get enough. Our tongues danced together, our hearts pounding in unison.

Matt's hands grasped my waist, slowly pushing me backwards onto the bed. I fell back with a soft gasp, my breath hitching as he hovered over me, his muscular arms braced on either side of my head. His blue eyes bored into mine, filled with unspoken promises.

His head dipped down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of my neck. He kissed and sucked, his hands reaching for the zipper of my catwoman costume. The sound of the zipper lowering filled the room, the cool air brushing against my heated skin.

Matt slowly peeled the costume off me, his lips following the path of the fabric as he exposed more of my skin. He paused at my breasts, his mouth closing around one peak while his hand caressed the other. I arched into him, a soft moan escaping my lips.

He lavished attention on my breasts until I was writhing beneath him, my hands clutching at his hair. Then, he began to kiss his way down my torso, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my catsuit. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with desire.

With a swift tug, he pulled off my bottoms, tossing them aside. I was now fully exposed to his hungry gaze. His hands caressed my thighs, pushing them apart. He settled between them, his breath hot against my most intimate area. I shivered in anticipation.

Matt hooked his fingers into the hem of my underwear and slowly pulled them down, his eyes locked onto mine. As the fabric reached my knees, he leaned down and used his mouth to pull them the rest of the way off, his teeth gently scraping against my skin.

Matt looked up at me from between my thighs, his blue eyes dark with lust. He placed a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh, his hands caressing the sensitive skin. He alternated between kisses and licks, slowly working his way higher.

His hands gripped my thighs, parting them wider as his mouth finally reached my center. He kissed me there, his tongue parting my folds and delving inside. I moaned, my hips bucking against his mouth as he feasted on me.

Matt hooked his arms under my legs, lifting them over his shoulders as he continued to devour me with his mouth. I was completely open and exposed to him, my most intimate parts on full display as he ate me out. I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him close to my aching core.

His hands gripped my backside, tilting my hips to give him better access as he buried his face between my thighs. He growled against my flesh, the vibration sending shivers through my body. I could feel the pressure building inside me, my breaths coming in short gasps. “Matt...”

I was so close, my body trembling on the edge of release. Matt seemed to sense this, doubling his efforts. He sucked my clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. I shattered, my back arching off the bed as my orgasm crashed over me.

As I convulsed around him, Matt slid two fingers inside me, curling them upwards to hit that spot that made my eyes roll back. He continued to suck on my swollen bud, his fingers pumping in and out of me in a steady rhythm.

Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes as the sensations became too intense. I was so sensitive, yet I couldn't push him away. I needed more. He added a third finger, his hand moving faster as he brought me to the peak of pleasure once more.

I came with a shout, my inner muscles clenching around his fingers. He gentled his touch, slowly licking me through the aftershocks. When he finally lifted his head, his chin was glistening, and his eyes were filled with satisfaction.

He kissed my thighs, then my stomach, and finally my mouth. I could taste myself on his lips, salty and sweet. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down onto me. “I need you inside,” I whispered against his ear.

Matt chuckled low in his throat, his voice husky with desire. “Since you behaved so well, I think you deserve a reward.” He reached down, positioning himself at my entrance.

Matt sat up, his thighs straddling my hips. He rubbed the thick head of his cock along my slit, coating himself in my wetness. The sensation made me gasp, my hips lifting off the bed seeking more. He teased me, denying me the full penetration I craved.

“Not yet,” Matt murmured, his hand pressing down on my abdomen to keep my hips still. He continued to rub against me, his hot, hard flesh parting my swollen folds but never quite pushing inside. I squirmed beneath him, my breathing growing faster and shallower. “Please...”

“Please what?” Matt taunted, his voice low and seductive. He knew exactly what I wanted, how much I needed him to fill me, to move inside me. “Say it,” he demanded, his hand tightening on my stomach.

I was panting now, my body trembling with need. I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. “Please, Matt. I need you to fuck me. Fill me up.” I spread my legs wider in invitation, my wet heat aching to be claimed.

Matt’s expression grew intense, his jaw clenching as he finally lined himself up and slowly pushed inside. He watched my face as he inched forward, his thick length stretching me wide. I bit my lip, my hands gripping the sheets as he buried himself to the hilt.

He started to move then, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. I cried out at the sudden intensity, my back arching off the bed. He set a hard, fast pace, the wet sounds of our coupling filling the room.

Our bodies slapped together, the sound of our moans and ragged breaths mingling. His large hands gripped my hips, tilting me to change the angle. He hit that spot deep inside me, making me see stars. “Oh god, Matt!” I cried out.

“That's it, baby,” Matt rasped, his voice thick with passion. “Squeeze my hard cock with your inner muscles like a good girl.” His words spurred me on, and I felt the familiar pressure building once more. “Matt...it’s...too much...”

“Too much what, baby?” he asked, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Too much pleasure? Too much love? Too much of me inside you?” He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Tell me what’s too much, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Too much...love,” I whimpered, my body tensing as another wave of pleasure washed over me. He groaned deeply, his movements becoming harder and more urgent. “And you’ll take more, won’t you, baby?” He growled, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I could only nod, my words lost to the sensations overwhelming my body. He grunted in approval, his hips snapping forward as he increased his pace. The room filled with the sound of our harsh breaths and the wet slap of flesh against flesh.

Matt’s mouth found my neck, his teeth scraping against my pulse point. He sucked hard, leaving a dark mark on my skin as he claimed me. His lips trailed up to my collarbones, placing open-mouthed kisses along the delicate bones before latching onto the soft skin and sucking.

He marked me as his, leaving a trail of love bites across my chest. He sucked on my nipples, biting down gently before moving to the space between my breasts. He kissed and nipped at the soft flesh, leaving a pattern of bites that only he could decipher.

I moaned and writhed beneath him, the slight pain only heightening my pleasure. “You’re mine,” he growled against my skin. “Every inch of you belongs to me.” He pushed himself up, his hands gripping my thighs and draping them over his shoulders.

He leaned down, his face mere inches from mine. His eyes were dark with lust and something deeper, more intense. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough with need. “Tell me who you belong to.” His hips rolled forward, grinding against my sweet spot.

“I’m yours,” I gasped. “All yours, Matt. Oh god, Matt!” His thrusts became deeper, his pace punishing. Our bodies slapped together, the sound of our moans filling the room.

Matt's grip tightened on my thighs, pulling them further apart and draping them over his shoulders. He leaned forward, his body folding over mine as he increased his pace. He buried his face in my neck, his hot breath against my skin as he moaned loudly.

I turned my head, seeking his mouth. Our lips met in a desperate, hungry kiss, our tongues tangling as we moaned into each other's mouths. He thrust deep and fast, his hips pistoning forward in a frantic rhythm.

Matt pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting our mouths. His eyes were wild with lust as he looked down at me, his chest heaving. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hips never stopping their relentless motion.

I looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, my gaze taking in the changes to his face. His dark hair was damp with sweat, strands plastered to his forehead. The black eye paint he’d worn was smudged.

The dark lines ran down his cheeks like tears, giving him a wild, untamed appearance. His jaw was clenched, the muscles bunching and releasing with each powerful thrust.

“Oh god, Matt! Oh god!” I cried out, my body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over me. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I chanted, my head thrashing from side to side on the pillow as he pounded into me.

Matt's hands flew to the bed beside my head, his fingers curling into the sheets as he propped himself up. He began to thrust faster and harder, his hips jackhammering between my thighs. “Cum for me, baby,” he grunted, his jaw clenched.

He leaned forward, his head fitting perfectly between my neck and shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his back, holding on for dear life as he fucked me with reckless abandon. The bed creaked and groaned beneath their combined weight, the slapping of their skin echoing through the room.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Matt bellowed, his voice raw and husky. “Take it, baby! Take my fucking cock!” I screamed in response, my voice hoarse from all the loud moaning. “YES! YES! FUCK ME HARDER, MATT!”

Matt’s hand left the bed, moving to press down on my stomach. He pushed me into the mattress as he continued his relentless pace, his other hand still propping himself up. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside me. “Oh god, right there!”

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” Matt growled, his hips slamming forward. “Wanted my cock so bad that you had us leave Chris and Nick behind. Couldn't even behave and control yourself.” He punctuated his words with particularly hard thrusts. “And here we are.”I whimpered, my hands clutching at his back as I tried to hold back. "P-Please, Matt...It's too...It's too intense..."He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "You can take it, baby."

“You better take it all now, like you were asking for it,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “Gonna fill this tight little pussy up. Make you scream my name.” His hand on my stomach pressed down harder, forcing me to arch into his thrusts.

His words, combined with the new angle and his powerful movements, pushed me closer and closer to the edge. “Matt...Matt, it’s too much...I can’t...I’m gonna...” My words dissolved into incoherent babbling as he continued to pound into me.

“Hold it,” Matt grunted. “Hold it until I say you can let go.” His pace increased, his hips a blur as he pistoned in and out of me. “You’ll cum when I say you can, understand?”

I whimpered, my hands clutching at his back as I tried to hold back. “Please, Matt...It’ too...It’s too intense...” He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “You can take it, baby.”

His words gave me strength, and I clenched my teeth, determined to hold back despite the overwhelming sensation. My body shook with the effort, my nails digging into his back. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and approving.

He continued to fuck me at a frantic pace, his thrusts hitting that perfect spot over and over. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tight in my core. I was so close, but I held back, refusing to let go until he gave the okay.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Matt paused, his hips frozen mid-thrust. He held me in place, his cock buried deep inside me. “Now,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Let go.”

I screamed as my orgasm ripped through me, my body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. Matt didn't hold back, fucking me through my climax with relentless force. His own release followed soon after, his cock pulsing inside me as he filled me with his hot seed.

“Fuck, yes!” Matt groaned, his hips jerking as he came. I moaned long and loud, my inner walls fluttering around his shaft, milking every last drop. Our combined moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure as we rode out our intense orgasms together.

As the last tremors of his release subsided, Matt collapsed forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing me. He buried his face against my neck, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Wow.” His voice was a mere whisper against my skin.

I could only whimper in response, my body still quaking with aftershocks. Matt pressed soft kisses along my neck and jaw as we lay there, basking in the afterglow. “That was incredible,” he murmured, slowly pulling out of me.

Matt carefully extracted himself from me and got off the bed. I heard the faucet run in the bathroom, and a moment later, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. He gently cleaned me up, his touch tender and caring. “You okay, baby?”

I nodded, a soft smile on my face as I looked up at him. “Mmhmm. That was... intense.” I stretched languidly, feeling deliciously used in the best possible way. Matt chuckled, tossing the rag into his laundry basket and crawling back into bed with me.

Matt pulled the sheets over us, tucking me against his side. “Well, it's what you wanted,” he said, a playful edge to his voice. “And I gave it to you.” He nuzzled my hair, his arms wrapped protectively around me.

I groaned, “I’m going to have such a big headache and hangover in the morning.” Matt kissed the top of my head. “I’ll get you some hangover pills and water later, just rest for now.”

I felt the comforting warmth of Matt's body behind me, his chest against my back. His arms wrapped around me tightly, his face pressed into the crook of my neck, inhaling the familiar scent of my hair. As I closed my eyes, the exhaustion and alcohol finally claiming me, the sound of his steady breath lulled me into a deep slumber.

I woke up to the sound of rustling and the closet opening. I turned around, my eyes still heavy with sleep, and found Matt shuffling through the hangers, searching for a top. He was already dressed in sweatpants, his hair mussed from sleep, and his muscular back was on full display.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes, shifting slightly in the bed as I watched Matt rummage through his closet. “Where are you going?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep, my words a sleepy murmur.

Matt paused, grabbing a red crewneck and pulling it over himself. “Chris called, said him and Nick need to be picked up,” he replied, his tone casual. He continued rummaging for a second, his gaze focused on the closet as if he was looking for something else.

Meanwhile, I snuggled deeper into the blankets, still drowsy from sleep. “What time is it?” I asked, stifling a tired yawn, my body half hidden beneath the covers.

He closed his closet door and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. His voice was low and calm. “It's two in the morning,” he responded. He put his phone back into his pocket and started his search for his keys. He finally found his keys hidden underneath a pile of clothes and pocketed them.

As he moved around, I noticed the change and looked him up and down, my drowsy eyes picking up on the details. His hair was damp, the smell of shampoo lingering in the air, and his black eye paint, a telltale sign of his costume from the party, was completely gone, revealing his natural, chiselled features beneath.

“You showered,” I murmured, still half asleep, the observation slipping out despite the tiredness. Matt turned to face me, his hair tousled, his face devoid of the makeup. I saw the slight amusement in his eyes, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

Matt nodded, a small chuckle escaping him as he responded, “Yeah, the black eye paint was getting annoying and sticky.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back. “Had to wash it off,” he added.

He walked over to the bed, leaning against the frame as he looked down at me, his form silhouetted against the light. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he said quietly. His words were a soft whisper, his concern evident despite the nonchalance.

“Will you be back?” I murmured, my words slurred from the remnants of sleepiness. I couldn’t help but feel a hint of worry, wondering if he'd return to the warmth of the bed next to me.

Matt gave a reassuring nod, his voice gentle. “Of course I will, just have to go get Chris and Nick,” he murmured, his tone comforting. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

I felt a small smile tug at my lips, comforted by his words and his gentle touch. “Be safe,” I drowsy murmured, my eyes already closing again, tiredness weighing on my eyelids.

Matt leaned down and planted a soft peck on my lips, his lips lingering for a brief moment. “I will,” he whispered, his voice a soothing promise.

I opened my eyes slightly, my voice slightly pleading but drowsy. “Before you leave can you start the shower for me?” I murmured, my words slurred with sleep.

Matt's expression softened, concern evident in his eyes. He asked, a hint of worry in his voice, “Are you sure? You won’t fall or anything while I’m gone, will you?” It was clear he was concerned for my state, even if I was only half asleep and slightly out of it.

I nodded, a sleepy smile on my lips, my eyes still half-open as I reassured him, “I won’t fall. Just start it for me, please.” My voice was soft and drowsy, the promise of a warm shower before he returned sounding too nice to pass up, even in my tired state.

Matt gave a small sigh, his expression momentarily softening at the sight of my drowsy state. He nodded, his voice gentle. “All right, just let the water heat up and you know where the towel is. Careful, okay? I’ll be back soon,” he said quietly, his words a whispered promise, his hand brushing against my cheek.

With that, he pushed back from the bed, pausing for a moment to watch me as he walked out of the room and into the hallway. The faint sound of water turning on could be heard as the shower warmed up for me, and then the garage door closed, signaling Matt leaving to go get Chris and Nick.

After finishing, I threw on one of Matt's hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, feeling comforted by his familiar scent. I made my way back to the bedroom and crawled back into bed, the comforting familiarity of our shared space soothing.

As I lay there, waiting for Matt, I felt the bed dip slightly beside me, the mattress shifting under the added weight. Warm breath caressed my neck, the faint hints of the night air on his sweatshirt-clad body. His arms wrapped around me as he settled in behind me, his body slotting against my back like it belonged there.

I felt the warmth of his body press against me, comforting and familiar in its presence. He held me closer, his arms securely wrapped around my waist, his nose nuzzling against my neck. His breath was steady and I could sense him letting out a soft sigh, relieved to be back.

Matt whispered playfully against my neck, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Stealing my hoodie, I see,” he murmured, his tone light and teasing. His arm tightened around me, a gentle squeeze that communicated his subtle approval.

“Guilty as charged,” I murmured in response, my voice drowsy but playful in tone. My hands found his, interlacing our fingers as I nestled against him, finding comfort in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

I shifted, turning around to face him, my body nestling closer against his. I grabbed his arm, pulling it over me, draping it like a comforting blanket. My head rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart in the quiet room.

He adjusted slightly, pulling me even closer, his arm wrapping around my waist protectively. He kissed the top of my head, holding me in a gentle yet firm embrace, the gesture both possessive and comforting. His fingers traced slow circles on my back, the soft touch an unspoken form of reassurance and affection.

A/N: HAPPY (late) HALLOWEEN!! — FOR @st6rify ❤︎︎

TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas ✮⋆˙ @r0s3luvr

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃

[mariasont]

The Receptionist - S.R

a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader

summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz

warnings: fluff

wc: 0.8k

The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.

With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.

You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"

You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?

He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.

He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.

With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.

"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"

The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.

"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."

His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.

A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.

"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."

As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.

It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.

"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"

You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.

"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"

Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"

"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print��on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."

As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."

He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 

"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."

"What gave it away?"

You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."

With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 

Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.

"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"

"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."

You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."

[leclerc-hs]

don't wake the kids - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you got his daughter to finally fall asleep but risk waking her up not too long later warnings: 18+, slight smut, oral (f-receiving), bad french (please correct me i was tired while writing this lmao), not proofread!!!! word count: 1608 author’s note: i think i’ll write more for them bc i like the idea of single dad charles LMAO. this was fun xoxoxo

PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THERE WAS SOMETHING about Mr. Leclerc that always made you stare at him in admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he always excelled at everything he did. For instance, raising a daughter on his own couldn’t have been easy. Hell, merely spending a single night watching over his kid has you feeling thoroughly drained. So, when Charles came home to you sprawled along his couch with the TV on a low volume, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, the sight brought a grin to his lips. You were the absolute cutest thing he had ever seen. Aside from his own daughter of course.

You weren’t even aware of the impact you left on him and his daughter. There wasn’t a day where you weren’t mentioned by his daughter. She adored you, and he did too.

“Comment était-elle?” How was she?  His voice was deep as he dropped his keys on the table of the entry way table. “Fatiguée?” Tired?

You barely moved as he approached the room, too comfortable to even sit all the way up for him. His hands rest in the pockets of his dress pants as he leaned up against the arch of the living room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes never straying from yours. 

You felt yourself swallowing harshly at the sight of him. He’s so fucking hot. “Elle était un ange!” She was an angel! There was a soft glow of moonlight that seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle radiance on the room as you whispered those words. You were whispering, careful to not wake her in the next room over. But also, in attempt to hide the desire in your voice. It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If you didn’t think about him that way.

With a subtle exhalation, Charles gracefully moved away from the archway, making his way towards the couch. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his head finding a comfortable perch on the back cushions, a gentle smile gracing his features. His legs extended languidly, and the contours of his thigh muscles subtly asserted themselves through the delicate fabric of his dress pants.

Turning his head to look at you, “Would you mind staying in the spare room tonight?” 

His eyes, an enchanting shade of green, held you captive in a mesmerizing trance. Lost in their depths, his question became a distant echo, momentarily forgotten in the captivating allure of those verdant depths.

It wasn’t an abnormal question. At least, not anymore it wasn’t. You’ve been watching his daughter for months now and have occasionally crashed at his when it was too late at night. When you didn’t answer right away, lost in thought, Charles felt the need to wearily add an “I’m too tired to take you home.”

It’s not that you didn’t have your license, but you didn’t have a car. And because it meant more money, you always said yes. At least you always told yourself it was for the money. But it really was for all the times you got to see a shirtless Charles in the morning. His hair all disheveled, eyes full of sleep. The rasp in his voice. And also, the breakfast.

His hand swiftly dropped to your exposed thigh, the tennis skirt adorning your body doing little to cover you. He patted the area right above your knee softly for your attention, “Je suppose que tu n’as pas de vêtements; je vais te trouver quelque chose.” I assume you don’t have clothes; I’ll grab you something. The touch was so miniscule, so quick, that you could barely grasp the concept that it happened before he was already standing.

Although staying over wasn’t new, borrowing his clothes was.

You found yourself unable to speak as he stood from the couch and made his way to his room. The air was charged with a delicate tension. You were convinced it was the suit that had you stumbling for words, or maybe the fact you haven’t had sex in months and Charles is just that fucking hot, and in front of you, looking at you, touching you.

“J’espère que cela est assez bon.” I hope these are good enough. Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the room, Charles gazes down at you with an intensity the captures the essence of the moment. In his hands, he holds a neatly folded pile of clothes, extending them toward you with a certain grace. A faint, sleepy smile graces your lips as you accept them. 

With a languid elegance, you begin to rise from the comfort of the couch, only to find Charles extending his hand toward you. His fingers confidently entwine with yours, pulling you up. Although, it seems Charles underestimated his strength because you are sent flying to your feet, awkwardly tripping in the process. But before you can make a total fool of yourself, Charles is slipping an arm around your waist, holding you to his chest.

You can feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Je suis tellement désole.” I’m so sorry.

You feel Charles laugh reverberate in his chest, making you more alert of just how close you two were. “Ne sois pas désolée.” Don’t be sorry.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch, creating a timeless place where you and Charles were encapsulated. Locked in a shared gaze, the world outside this intimate bubble ceased to exist. Uncertainty lingered in the air, an unspoken question hovering between you two. Charles’ firm hold persisted, grounding the moment in the tangible warmth of his touch. 

As the stillness enveloped you, his eyes were fixated on your flushed cheeks, a canvas painted in hues of warmth. The intensity of his gaze conveyed an admiration that transcended words. To Charles, the sight of your blushing complexion was nothing short of captivating – an endearing revelation of vulnerability that only heightened your allure.

“Tellement jolie,” So pretty. The words were so soft. Barely audible if it wasn’t for your proximity. It was as if he didn’t even know he said them out loud.

You felt frozen while trying to decide if this was a dream or not. But when the pads of Charles thumbs made way to your face, tracing your bottom lip slowly, you knew you were fucked.

“Est-ce que je peux?” Can I?

You wanted to scream. Yes! You felt your stomach churning with need. But externally, you were calm. You needed to be quiet.

You made the move to nod your head when his lips collided with yours. It was slow and tentative at first. Like he was trying to test the waters. He pulled away for a moment, eyes staring into yours once again, as if he needed to make sure you were okay with this.

But as soon as he saw your lips draw into a smile, he knew he was fucked.

The second time your lips met it was feverish and messy. All tongue and no air. The clothes that he handed you previously, now lay on the floor in a messy pile, your hands sliding around his neck. You both go tumbling down onto the couch.

He groaned quietly into your mouth – a sound as if the taste of you was something he craved his whole life. His hands dropped from your jaw, closing around your neck, as you felt him push your further into the couch cushion with the weight of his body.

“J’ai besoin de toi,” I need you.  You managed to slip the words out, your fingers trailing through his hair on the back of his head.

Before you had the chance to press your lips back together, he was pulling away, leaving you breathless and a little confused until his hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt. His fingers shoving their way in and pulling them down, your underwear being yanked off in the process. His gaze met yours once more, filled with anticipation and eagerness.

“Tu as l’air tellement putain de bien comme ça.” You look so fucking good like this.

Like this. Spread out and beneath him. Completely bare and whimpering for him. 

You could hear him curse to himself as he draped your leg over his shoulder, seeing how wet you already were. 

The first drag of his tongue on you was enough to make your back arch instantly. He groaned, his nose brushing against your clit as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Every dip of his tongue sent you bucking your hips harder against him. And he loved it. 

With every stoke of his tongue, your fingers fisted his hair tighter. You began to buck your hips, so close to reaching your orgasm, but he denied. His hands were quick to push your hips down onto the couch. He wanted to hear you beg. 

“Charles,” you sighed softly.

“Hm?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tongue was placing slow licks to your clit, light enough to keep you right on the edge.

“S’il te plaît.” Please.

Charles was back sucking on your clit in less than a second, his hands sliding up to your covered breasts, squeezing them. He moaned into your pussy, the sound enough to send you spiraling over the edge. You gripped onto anything that was near and placed it over your face, trying to cover the moans that were escaping your lips.

Your body shook as you pressed the pillow into your face. He licked you as you came down and didn’t stop until you were practically shoving him off.

His lips were glossy and puffy, coated with you. A smirk on his face as he stood up and looked down at you completely flushed on his couch, half bare. You looked at the bulge of his cock, pressing against the seams of his dress pants, and then back up at his eyes.

“Bedroom?”

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - SWORD AND SHEATH

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : After another slew at sea, you and Zoro have the ship all to yourselves as the crew restocks up on the island. They say that curiosity kills the cat, but what happens when you've tamed the beast?

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. zoro roronoa x f!reader ; swordplay, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, mentions of spit, pet names (baby, pretty girl), mentions of squirting, lots of teasing and praise — WC : 5.2k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ First Quarter ! ꒱ ― Kinktober Masterlist

Each glide of the polish-infused cloth along the Wado Ichimonji is slow, refined. Zoro was using his practiced hand to do the process he’s done thousands of times with the blade he cherishes most.

It was a form of art — the way the blade would be reborn with the shine it was always meant to have, no longer weighed down by the blood, dirt, and sweat that would so often coat it.

The sun beats down on him as he continues his ritual. Sword maintenance was just as important as training; it was cathartic, another form of meditation that Zoro relied on to center himself, grow stronger, and keep his tools as efficient as he could. 

Wiping away the horrors each weapon has seen makes him feel a little more cleansed himself. Zoro has never been one to shy away from a fight or doing what he needs to do in order to survive, but the process just reminds him that he won the battle; he’s the one who gets to clean his blades and move onto his next enemy — the next step in his dream.

His wandering mind can’t help but drift back to you — his bright star in the night sky, the one that silently guides him along and encourages his every step on his journey, even going as far as lighting the way when the path seems too dark. 

After a few moments of being with you, he too feels the weight of the blood on his hands fade away as soon as you lovingly take them in yours. The tender skin of your palms kissing, the buzz of being grounded by each squeeze you grant him and he finds himself able to begin again.

Seagulls chirp overhead as he works, polishing his blades with intent, his focus unshakeable even though the world around him demands attention. The gentle lull of the waves, the whispering breeze in the air, he was able to tune it all out.

But the moment you came waltzing onto the deck, his ears perked up and his nose scrunched, signaling that he knew you were there and mentally preparing himself for whatever you had planned next. If only he knew.

“What do you want now?” The last word dies in his throat as he takes you in, freezing in place. You only see it because you know him so well, and have studied his face and all of his expressions far and wide. 

The subtle widening of his eye, barely a fraction of a difference but it’s a difference all the same. The stoic mask he so often wears, acting indifferent to things such as clothes, slips away as no one could ever ward off the power of beauty - especially yours.

The facade begins to chip away as a blush spreads across his face, gears turning in his brain to find something to say as you make your way over to him.

Because today, the Sunny was docked at an island for a routine supply run and you were all too quick to volunteer you and Zoro to stay back and watch the ship together. He should've known right then and there that you were up to no good but your syrupy sweet eagerness disarmed him. 

But now you were stalking closer to him, dressed up entirely in his clothes – or at least some of them. Adorned in his notable green robe, his haramaki, and completed with his bandana securely tied around your head. His gaze rakes over your figure, taking in the way you look wearing one of his favorite outfits. Swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobs in anticipation. He can’t help but feel his throat close up and trap all the words he wishes to say behind a wall of surprise.

“What do you think?” You ask, your lips bending in a coy manner. 

A blush blooms across his tanned skin in a slow crawl, blossoming into a darker shade the more you twirl in his robe that very clearly shows you’re not wearing his pants underneath it.

His jaw clenched, unable to form any words as he continues to drink you in. This was the last thing he expected from you today, but he really should’ve known better.

“You’re blushing.” You grin, going to poke his cheek. But his reflexes were too sharp, instantly swatting your hand away before turning his head away from you.

“Am not! Shut up!” He hisses out, the blush only deepening as you call him out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, woman.”

“Don’t I?” You move to get back in his line of sight, that disarmingly sweet yet taunting smile still resting on your lips. “Just tell me what you think of the outfit, Zo.”

“You’re wearing my clothes.” He points out, stating the obvious. You don’t bother to hide the way you roll your eyes.

“Very astute of you. Did you have to use your Haki to come to that conclusion?” 

Without another word, Zoro throws you over his shoulder, marching back into the ship and straight for the bunks. You squeal, accusing him of being a brute as you lazily pound your fists against his back. 

Zoro slaps your ass with a sadistic grin that you don’t have the pleasure of seeing before he begins to squeeze and knead the plush flesh, unable to move his firm hand away from it.

He makes his way into the cramped room. It wasn’t his favorite place to take you but it was the closest and climbing up the crow's nest would only cause a delay between him and what he desired most.

After closing the heavy wooden door with the back of his boot, he tosses you onto the bed, letting you sprawl out for him while he places his swords to the side – perfectly lined up as always.

“Wearing my clothes around like this…” Zoro trails off as his eye zeroes in on the way the robe slides off of your shoulder, teasingly exposing the sliver of your chest. He can feel his face heat up all over again. “Are you really not wearing anything under this?”

“Well, the pants didn’t fit me and you don’t normally wear a shirt under this.” The impassive manner in which you said that did not hold a candle to the way your eyes were fired up with a diabolical mirth wrapped up with mischief. Always playing the little minx that would find a way to burrow under his skin and make a home there just to torture him. Or so he says.

“You little...” Zoro quickly crawls over you, caging you in under him, elbows digging into the mattress by your head. “You make it so hard for me sometimes.”

“Do I? Let me feel—” You reach toward his pants but his hand encircles your wrist.

“Oi! That’s not what I meant.” he almost hisses out. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them over your head on the flattened pillow on his bunk.

The thread of control he was clinging onto was no match for the ember of desire you spark in him. One single strike and it would be burnt out, turning into ash and falling right into the palm of your hand. 

“I know.” You giggle. The damn giggle that never fails to cause something within him to flutter, stirring it around until he had no choice but to act on it. 

Surging forward, his lips aggressively capture yours. There’s no room for easing into it, just a clash of teeth knocking together, swirling with a mix of heady groans and needy moans.

But that’s one of his favorite things about kissing you — how you were just unabashed about how messy it would get. Swapping spit through the sheer force of each other's tongues shoving their way into hot, receptive mouths.

The amount of passion and unspoken feelings he’s able to express through this simple act is something he flourishes at, excelling at unraveling you. Gripping your cheeks, he tilts your head back slightly so he can deepen the kiss — as if he was trying to spill the words that stubbornly sat on the tip of his tongue and have it reach the bottom of your heart.

The call for air was growing too difficult to ignore and reluctantly he pulled back, letting the string of saliva snap and drip down your chins. He leans down, kissing the droplet off of your skin, ingesting as much as he possibly can before looking at you.

You look back at him through half-lidded eyes, melting into the bed already from the ferocity of the kiss. His steely eye trails away from your swollen, lust-bitten lips in favor of taking in the way you’re panting under him. Need takes over him as he reaches for your — his — clothes.

Zoro has disrobed himself many times, but he’s never had to take it off of someone else like this. He knows the way it unravels open and leaves his chest all exposed before he fights someone, but this isn’t one of those times.

With a gentleness that only love could bring, he languidly undoes the robe, pulling back a bit so he can see how the green fabric bunches around your sides, your heaving chest now out on display for him.

Peppering a few kisses down your jaw, his tongue trails your neck as he works his way down to your collarbone and your supple chest. Each delicious drag has you squirming under him, whining about him being a tease.

“You’re one to talk.” Zoro gruffs out with a bite of sarcasm, giving your nipple a quick pinch. He relishes in the yelp of his name that you beautifully let out before carefully trailing his slick tongue along your skin. 

The way you mewl as his lips enclose your pert bud only reinforces the primal desire that’s been raging inside of him since you first came out dressed in that damn robe.

After giving your other breast the same treatment, he presses his lips in the middle of your chest and lets it linger so he can inhale one of the sweetest parts of your body — the one that lays closest to your heart.

Zoro presses wet, open-mouthed kisses all along your stomach, moving further down until easily slipping your panties off and tossing them behind him.

Running his fingers along your glistening folds, he holds back a groan at the strings of arousal already clinging to him.

“Already so wet f’me.” His eye was trained at the apex between your thighs, his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. “Gonna prep you now.”

Bringing his face closer, he shuts his eye in a hazy bliss as he takes in your scent. The action always made you squirm but he was addicted to every single aspect of your cunt. He could never get enough of your musk, knowing that heaven was only a taste away.

Before you could complain about him taking his time, he dives in.

It wasn't often that Zoro was in a position to praise you relentlessly while his head was normally buried in your heat where you took everything so well for him. 

So, he’s learned to show you his adoration by the precise swirl of his tongue, making out with your clit and giving into every one of your demands. Groaning against your cunt as soon as he got his first taste, never quite getting his fill of it no matter how much he lapped at it.

“Zo – fuck.” The words rush out from your lungs and assimilate into the hazy tension that’s hanging in the sex-filled air. “Feels so good.”

His hands grip your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder before moving to grab your ass, digging into the plushness and bringing you impossibly closer as he continues his assault.

“Tastes s’fucking good.” He slurs, the sound presses directly against your clit. Zoro's attention flickered back up to you, dark and stormy eye swirling around with a primal hunger as if he couldn’t ever get enough. “My sweet girl.”

You let out a soft whine as you clutch his hair, guiding him even closer as his tongue slips into your entrance.

He keeps at it, pinching your thigh — a demanding little code he uses when he wants to hear you more. Your saccharine moans, addictingly lewd mewls, and honeyed murmurs of praise.

“Please don’t stop, ah, ‘m getting close!” There was no way Zoro would stop. Not even if he wanted to tease you, not when he was so lost in your taste that all he wanted to do was let you pull him under your current and drown in it.

He vigorously continues to lap at your entrance, attempting to collect every drop of your sweet essence. His nose nudges your clit and he can feel your thighs begin to tremble, locking his head in place. He moves to focus his attention there, the flat of Zoro’s tongue adds more pressure onto the throbbing bud.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back raises from the mattress when Zoro collects your puffy clit in his mouth, sucking as hard as he can. You choke back a whimper, letting out a noise you’ve hardly ever released before as you claw at his head, humping his face for more.

“Zoro — fuck! Wait, it’s too much!" The words melt into an elongated moan, losing yourself to the drowsy delirium that zoro is spelling out against the bundle of nerves. He gives out a resounding grunt, gripping you tighter in encouragement. 

It’s all you need to let go.

Thank god no one else was on the ship because they might’ve heard the way you cried out his name in ultimate bliss as the taut band within you fully snapped. Zoro didn’t stop, lapping up the slick that gushed from your sweet pussy.

The bottom half of his face glistens in your arousal and he was absolutely drunk off of it as if it was a bottle of the finest sake in the world.

“Keep 'em spread open for me baby, ‘m not done yet,” Zoro said, sitting back on his haunches and taking in your already fucked out expression. “Need you to do that again.”

After sliding off his pants, he grips the base of his cock, giving it a few tentative pumps as his eyes trail back over your body, covered in a sheen of desire. 

If he didn’t crave to be inside of you so badly he would’ve come all over you, making you as messy as possible. His dick twitches at the thought, heat curling in his gut as he imagines you covered in the white of his essence.

“Zoro.” You gasp out, hands digging into the slightly sweaty sheets. The desperation and utter need that coats your husky voice almost does him in. But you’ve had too much control over him today, and he had to gain some of that back.

“Look at you.” Zoro's voice is low, dark and merciless. The deep desire that overtakes him and makes his words more gravely and coarse, sanding over your skin so gratifying it leaves your hips bucking up for more. The sight below him is surely one of his favorites and he plans on drawing it out for as long as he can. “All spread out for me in my bed, still in my clothes.”

Zoro leans forward, lightly tapping his cock against your sticky folds and nudging it through to your entrance, just resting it at your opening, not yet pushing in. His fingers dig deeper into your waist, keeping you in place before you can think about rolling your hips against him, trying to suck him in with all your might. 

“You’re so mean.” A pitiful pout rests on your pretty lips and he almost gives in. Almost. But he knows you so well by now, knows that you’re used to getting exactly what you want and it only makes him want to ruin you more. To put you in a place where all you want is him, all you crave is his touch. And you’re teetering right on the edge, only a simple nudge and you’ll be falling right into his trap. 

“Yeah?” One of his hands returns to his cock, reddened tip angrily staring at you as he starts to pump himself over your mound, spreading his precum all over his length as he preps himself for you. “That’s not going to get you what you want though.”

“Please, Zoro.” You barely breathe out, your need for him so great that it starts to turn painful, the dull ache spreading through your body like a wildfire, screaming out for relief as the flames of desire consume you. You’ve had a taste but you needed more.  The only thing that would satiate you was his cock sliding deep within you. “Please, I'm sorry. Please don’t tease me, come on.”

The whine in your voice has his dick twitching in his hand, ego fueling the blood coursing through his veins. Zoro wasn’t a power-hungry man, he never cared for it in the same way most people did. He liked being strong, he demanded respect, but never wanted to lead — to rule.

But that all changed whenever he’d have you sprawled out beneath him. feeling like the king of the world as one of the most desired women only has eyes for him, begging for his cock, yearning for his love. 

He’d give into you every time, his heart too weak to win against the love he had for you, but he tried to stave it off as much as he could.

“Only if you think you can handle it.” He smirks, tip catching against your clit, your body jolting forward. “See? You’re already so sensitive just from my mouth.”

“Dammit Zoro.” Another mewl that his cock leaps at. Frustration etches across your features, water pooling in your eyes as you continue to paw at him. It’s what he was waiting for — his pretty girl reduced to putty in his hand, ready to be played with. “Please.”

Something possesses him with the plea that pierces his heart — takes over the last cognitive brain cell he has as he lets out an exaggerated spit, the glob landing on his length.

Your breath hitches as he finally pushes himself all the way in, the stretch splitting you open to the point that no noise can come out, finally feeling full of what you’ve been waiting for all day. 

“You turned me into this — fuck — made me like this,.” Zoro swears, his arm wrapping around your back and pulling you flush against him as he feels the way your greedy cunt keeps him snugly in place.

“Are you really complaining about that?” Your voice almost slips into a whine as he pulls back out a little before bullying his way through you as your cunt accommodates his girth — eagerly welcoming him back in. 

“So tight, look at that.” He ignores your snark, opting to fixate on the way you’re swallowing him whole, slack-jawed and practically drooling over the sight. “Made for me.”

You clench at his words which rewards you with one of his sinful grunts, his head bowing slightly as you pulse around his throbbing length.

“Mhm,” You hum, digging your nails into his shoulders, little crescent moons blooming in its place. He lets out a hiss, snapping his hips all the way back in, nudging against your cervix. “Just fuck me already.”

“Always running your mouth off like a damn brat.” He glares down at you but there’s no bite to it — not with the amused crinkles that cradle his eyes with care.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Famous last words.

But Zoro didn’t do what he usually did; flipping you over and fucking you deep in the mattress until the only thing your mouth can do is sing out his name like a mantra.

His eye held the secrets of unspoken words, a question that he refused to waste his breath on — not when he already knew how to decipher the language of his gaze.

You trust me?

As easy as breathing.

Breathy pants escape his lungs as he keeps a steady pace, looking at you. No matter how many times he’s had you under him, you never fail to weaken him.

“I think it’s time we complete your little ensemble here.” 

“Huh?” Zoro doesn’t answer you as he reaches for the Wado Ichimonji. You shift under him in anticipation.

“Relax, baby. I just want you to hold this for me.”

The heavy hilt lays in your mouth, muffling any of the moans that tried to escape it. Zoro's calloused hand runs along your cheek, down your jaw and chin as he appraises the view before him.

The look in his steely gaze was one you were familiar with but with an edge of possession — pride.

Countless times this treasured weapon has been wielded in his own mouth, fighting to protect himself, but more importantly, his crew. Seeing you laid out under him with a lust-blown look in your eye as tears brim your lashes is something else entirely.

“That's it. Keep holding onto it,” His gaze doesn’t leave yours as he slowly begins to thrust back into you. “Just like that.”

You let out a soft whine that sounded like a muffled version of his name. Compulsion drives him to quicken his pace, moving slow and steady until your body jiggles under the ferocity of each stroke.

“There you are. Keep it there for me and I'll take care of you, alright?” 

True to his word, Zoro keeps pounding into you, his other hand trailing down your body and grabbing every bit of you he can get his hand on before his fingers catch your neglected nub between them.

The way you effortlessly clean his dirty hands, having his sword fit in your mouth like this makes it feel like it’s being cleansed in the most pure form possible. Each rapid rock of his hips has your jaw clenching down against it further, all of your enticing noises are muffled by the intricately woven hilt.

“Fuck, perfect.” The praise spills out of his mouth and pools into your gut. “So fucking perfect.”

The hilt started to slip, threatening to clatter against the floor and finishing all the work he had done on it earlier. 

“Hold it.” He hisses, “Don’t let it fall.”

His hips urgently move faster, thrusting harder into you as you try your best to grip the sword in your mouth. But he knows how strenuous it can be on his teeth and jaw, so his hand slips up to cup yours. 

Once you steady the sword, his hand trails down the sheath but his eye never leaves yours. With a bated breath, he begins to slide the sheath off, watching as your eyes widen in curiosity but make no protest to stop him.

The blade was now out, facing him and gleaming under the rays of light that poured into the room from the tiny window. The sight had his hips stuttering — the element of risk now flirting with his innermost desires. 

You were perfectly safe in his arms, he was the one who should be worried. He knows how sharp those blades are, how a tiny graze could pierce his skin.

Yet the siren call of the silver glint beckons him as it sits so prettily in your mouth — a tantalizing sight. You may be the one under him but he was the one surrendering to your power.

Many more possibilities flashed in his mind, darker desires that had him pressing his chest flush against yours, the Wado Ichimonji only a few inches away from him.

But perhaps another time he could fully indulge in the temptations that swam around in his mind, wondering how far you two could go for each other.

For now, he missed kissing you, missed your lips on his, consuming the very air from his lungs and replacing it with your sweet noises that breathe him back to life. So he bends down further, expertly taking the hilt in his mouth and pulling it from yours.

He gives you a few deep thrusts before he rises up, ready to put the sword aside but your arm stops him.

The look in your eyes mirrors the same desire that licks at his gut, and he knows you two are on the same page — just like always. 

“You want me to keep it out?” Zoro can’t hide the tone of surprise in his voice as he lazily humps against your hips. You give him a shy nod. “Why?”

“It could be fun.” The way you’re looking at him right now is killing him, slowly shredding away all of his worries and pushing him into the pits of temptation. 

“It could be dangerous.”

“But isn’t that exciting?” Zoro swallows hard. It could very well be exciting, showcasing your trust for one another but…

“I don't want to hurt you.” He couldn't live with that, knowing that one of his blades had hurt you in a way you didn’t want. He'd rather slit his stomach open than do that. 

“You wouldn’t but I'll tell you if it does, I promise.” You reach up and caress his cheeks with a tenderness that has him choking for air. “Our safe word can be… sake.”

“Okay.” The unease that previously rested on his shoulders flows down his back and far away from him as he lets out a soft chuckle. “Sake it is, you ready baby?”

After a quick nod, Zoro brings the Wado back between your two joined bodies.

The cool metal kisses your skin as it trails along a precise path with absolutely zero intention to harm. But to have the infamous pirate hunter Zoro hover over you, a dark gaze latched onto the point of his katana to your skin that’s budding with gooseflesh sends a chill down your spine.

It takes everything in you not to arch at the thrill, the simple act could nick your skin and end this before it even begins.

“How's that?” Zoro's voice sounds a million miles away as your blood thrums loudly in your ear. The swordsman lets out a groan as you salaciously clench around him, his fist tightening around the hilt as he continues to glide the metal along your skin. 

“So good,” Your breath hitches as he continues to graze it over your collarbone. “Knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Zo.”

“Never.” He gruffs out, trying to keep his eye open although the fluttering of your walls tempts him to shut them in bliss. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out like this.

Trust could be hard to find in this new world, he was lucky to find a crew that he knew would always have his back throughout everything. but this? This was so much more than that.

To be able to have you in the most vulnerable position imaginable with a blade dancing along your skin, and enjoying it not because of the act itself, but because of the trust and respect the two of you have built for each other, growing into something he’d never dream of attaining. 

If he wasn’t careful, he could finish right now as pleasure shoots down his spine, desperately begging to fill you up. But the last thing he’d ever do was leave you ever wanting more. 

Gently putting the blade aside, he ravenously crashes back into you with a new spark of ardor — chest to chest, ferociously driving into your cunt before his lips meet yours once again.

He kissed you and tasted the familiar steel, but mixed with your sweetness that he’d never stop chasing as long any time he’d have to put this blade in his mouth.

“So fuckin’ good.” The words sink into your lips, unable to move away from you for too long. His hips erratically move now, no set rhythm as they chase the high you both desperately seek. Your nails claw into his back and force a guttural groan out of him, wanting nothing more than for you to mark up his whole body. “So fucking good for me.”

Zoro never minded pain, it came with the territory of who he is. But having you inflict it on him was the sweetest sin he’s ever known, his body bursting with pleasure as it threatens to come undone and feed into all of your desires.

“Zo-!” you gasp out, tears brimming with droplets of devotion that he can’t wait to lick up. “‘m close!”

The sweet sound of your cries only fuels him more.

“Go ahead baby, let go.” His gaze is trained on your expressions, soaking them up as it morphs into an unyielding force of pleasure.

As your back arches up into him, he’s quick to flatten his palm there, keeping you flush against him. He can feel every tremor and tremble, each of your nerves and neurons firing off and coursing through your veins.

A wave of ecstasy crashes over your body, freezing each of your limbs in place and threatens to drag you to oblivion. 

���Almost there, just a little longer.” Zoro pumps into you, your cunt clamping down on him to the point he almost has to pull out as you squirt all over his lower half and the already messed up sheets. “That’s it, fuck yes-“

Zoro begins to release in your cunt with a grunt of your name, letting you milk his cock as his body shudders in the eternal bliss you so readily provide him. He pulls out at the last rope of cum, letting it land on your mound before he nudged your clit with his softening cock, ensuring to make a mess all over your pussy.

“Zoro!” your body jolts, fingers gripping his bicep. “‘m sensitive.”

“Then come here baby.” Zoro pulls you into his strong arms, carefully eyeing the blade that was still unsheathed and still set aside. 

Zoro's calloused fingers catch your earlobe, gently massaging it as he inspects it.

“You know, you still need one more piece.” Zoro's gaze is intense as it sets on you. His hands trail down your body, lightly massaging it as he works his way down in a soothing manner.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“When the others get back, we’re going into town so we can get you your own pair of earrings.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Just like me.”

“Really?” The mind fogginess of the shared desire breaks away from the way beams of light emit when you smile at him.

He nods, brushing his lips alongside the temple of your head. Zoro presses his nose into your hair and inhales it.

“Quit sniffing me.” You let out an amused scoff.

“Nah, you just smell so damn good like this.” His lips move to kiss along your face, pressing into your neck before inhaling once again.

“You mean sweaty?”

“Drenched in sweat, arousal and me.” His voice is low in your ear and you crinkle your nose at the strange, but endearing compliment.

“Freak.” You tease, snuggling into him, feeling the way his muscles ripple around you in his strong, unrelenting hold.

“Takes one to know one.” He chuckles, feeling his body start to settle from the intensity of his high, melting into you and the mattress as a nap threatens to take hold. But he just had one more question. “So, if you’re dressed as me, does that mean you can drink sake as well as me?”

“Maybe we should find out.”

tags: @thesunxwentblack @autumnstuffs

[silliest-donkey]

“You’d be easier on my mind if you actually wore some damn pants”

You looked up from your phone. The voice you had heard almost startled you. You were casually laid back on your bed - which was the second bed of the room. On the first one, Ellie Williams, some nerdy chick you had met at college, was laying down on her stomach. She had offered you the chance of being roommates on day one. Even though, only a week after moving in, it already started feeling more like a curse than a great deal. You knew choosing to live under the same roof as someone you had just met was beyond reckless - but you had no other choice at the time.

"Excuse me?" you scoffed.

"You heard me."

You chuckled weakly, still struggling to process her comment. "I'm wearing shorts," you attempted to justify yourself, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words.

Ellie's response was immediate and defiant. "Still, it's not enough coverage," she retorted.

You let out an exasperated sigh, unable to believe that she was making such a big deal out of something so trivial.

"Ugh, seriously? We're both girls, plus, you're not my mom." you protested, trying to inject some logic into the conversation.

However, Ellie was having none of it. Her sharp retort cut through the air with a fierce determination. "It doesn't matter," she countered, unyielding in her stance.

You shook your head in disbelief, feeling a mix of amusement and irritation at Ellie's stubbornness.

You noticed your roomate's gaze lingering on your thighs, her brows furrowing slightly. A subtle flicker of nervousness crossed her face, as if she was trying to restrain herself from fixating on your legs. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip, betraying her inner turmoil.

“You could just be wearing sweatpants or something..." your roommate pleaded.

You couldn't believe how worked up Ellie was getting about some simple pyjama shorts. Her desperate attempts to prove her point were almost comical. It sounded like she had lived in someone's basement for the last nineteen years of her life.

"Come on, Ellie," you retorted. "It's not the middle ages anymore. I'm not going to wear sweatpants just because you can't handle a bit of exposed skin."

“No, I just don’t want to be constantly looking at your thighs!” she exclaimed, clearly getting annoyed.

The stubborn girl's sudden outburst took you by surprise. A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized the implication of her words.

"So it's a problem that you can't keep your eyes off my thighs, huh?" you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to rile her up even more.

Ellie's face flushed a deep shade of crimson, realizing she had inadvertently revealed more than she intended.

"What? No, that's not... I didn't say that.." she stuttered, her eyes darting away from your smug expression.

You had stopped paying attention to her the moment she started stumbling over her own words. Now with your headphones on, you blissfully ignored Ellie's stares as you watched a show on your phone. Or, at least, Ellie thought so.

She laid back on her bed, frustrated, resting a tattoed arm over her forehead.

A heavy exhale exited her lips, as she flipped her body onto her stomach, the stirring sounds of her covers disturbing the silence. She was trying her best to hide how much the simple sight of you was affecting her.

Ellie grabbed a pillow and pressed it around her head, doing whatever she could to avoid looking at you. But it was so hard to do so when the very thing she was trying to ignore was right in front of her. She eventually gave up and let her eyes travel over your curves.

Her gaze took in everything, as she finally allowed herself to stare at her heart's content.

Ellie's passionate visual study of your features started at your shoulders, before slowly wandering down your body, taking in every piece of skin that wasn't hidden by clothing. As the poor girl tried her best to push away the sensations of arousal, she found it increasingly difficult to ignore the growing heat and tension within her. Every glance she allowed herself to take seemed to fan the flames of her desire, and she could feel her inhibitions slipping away from her control with each passing moment. Despite her efforts to remain composed, her body betrayed her as her heart raced and her breath grew shallow, signaling that she was losing the battle against her own ache.

Before she could realize it, Ellie's thighs were humping the sheets of her bed. Her lips, slightly parted in adoration, occasionally let out soft gasps. She felt like she was melting into a puddle, so needy, only from looking at your thighs. The dry humping did nothing to soothe the feeling, if anything, it intensified the tingling sensation she was subjected to.

Ellie bit her lip so hard it almost started bleeding, her jerky fingers gripping the bedsheets in a pathetic attempt to keep herself from doing anything she would regret. However, the longer she just laid there and stared, the more she felt the last shreds of her dignity and self-respect fade away into nothingness.

She slowly pulled the covers of her bed over her shoulders, her hands sliding under her clothes. Her thumbs lowered dangerously over her shivering skin, from her breasts, down to over her stomach until she felt her clit.

Ellie sneaked a shy finger into her underwear. Just one. A small, nearly inaudible moan escaped her twitching lips as she felt the fleshy folds of skin on either side of her vagina throb.

Your roomate thanked god you were wearing headphones. You were only meters away, and she was pleasuring herself at the half-naked sight of your thighs alone. It felt so humiliating, and downright outrageous, but she loved the thrill.

Her index was now coated in her natural lube, desperately pressing and stroking her swollen button. It was a losing battle, Ellie's mind, clouded by pictures of you and only you, was slowly turning to mush. Hell, you were offering her such a perfect combination of charms that it felt like it was altering her own brain chemistry. She kept her forehead against the bed, her moans muffling into the covers as she was already reaching climax. She couldn't look at you anymore now that she had committed to her urges so pathetically. She probably wouldn't even be able to look at herself in the mirror for a few days, now that she thought about it.

Ellie remained for a few moments in the same position, struggling to catch her breath. She didn't even notice before a long time that she was drooling all over her bed, her mind stuck on the sight of your perfect, supple thighs, looping, replaying, repeating in her pretty little dozed off head every single one of the witty comebacks you had given her earlier, which had made your lips move so attractively. After panting onto her bedsheets for what felt like hours, she finally got a grip of herself, and raised up from her bed. Her knees wobbly, she cleaned up while you were still laying down with your headphones, visibly fixated on whatever you were watching on your screen.

Forgetting about this was not negotiable with her brain. From now on, she would probably get wet only by seeing the tiniest bit of your exposed flesh. And, she wasn't going to make anymore rude comments anytime soon. How could she blame you for anything when she was the creep? When she was the one who got sickly obsessed with you to the point you were a constant turn-on for her?

The thought alone of anyone else getting to see you like this made her want to punch the goddamn wall. Ellie was well aware of how toxic this was, that you did not owe her anything and did not deserve her to be bossy with you. However, the more she tried to calm herself down, the more conflicted she was getting. She found herself crouched down on the bathroom floor, burying her heavily blushing face into her arms.

Your roommate had realized too late how much of a hold you had on her.

[masterlist]

[dandelions-143]

Sex Tape - Hyunjin

Kintober Masterlist

Word Count: 5114

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, explicit sexual content, taped sexual acts, over stem.

No summary just smut under the cut

You held your hand out, fingers splayed in a futile attempt to shield your face from the lens of the vintage video recorder Hyunjin was pointing at you. The device, an old Panasonic VHS-C camcorder from the late 1980s, was just the latest addition to his ever-growing collection of retro cameras. Its bulky form and slightly worn edges spoke of years of use, giving it a charm that modern, sleek devices simply couldn't match.

"Hyunjin, stop!" you whined, your voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement. The red recording light blinked steadily, a silent testament to the moment being captured. "Come on... I look terrible today." Your hair was slightly disheveled, and you were wearing your comfiest, albeit least flattering, loungewear - a baggy t-shirt with a faded logo and well-worn sweatpants.

Hyunjin chuckled, the sound warm and affectionate. His eyes crinkled at the corners, forming little crow's feet that you found utterly endearing. He lowered the camera slightly, revealing his face. His hair was pushed back with a headband, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. The soft whirring of the device filled the comfortable silence between you, a nostalgic sound that transported you back to a time before digital dominance.

"You're stunning," he insisted, his voice rich with sincerity. His gaze softened as he looked at you, a mix of adoration and admiration evident in his eyes. "You could definitely be an actress, a model... your face is made for the camera." As he spoke, he adjusted the focus ring on the lens, ensuring every detail of your expression was captured perfectly.

His words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, a blush creeping up your neck despite your attempts to hide. The compliment, delivered with such earnestness, made your heart flutter. You could feel the warmth spreading across your face, knowing that the old camera, with its ability to capture the subtle play of light and shadow, would undoubtedly record your flushed complexion in all its glory.

Noticing your persistent shyness, Hyunjin gently set the camera down on a nearby mahogany table. He angled it carefully, ensuring it would still capture the intimate moment unfolding between you.

Hyunjin approached you with measured steps, his movements slow and deliberate. The floorboards creaked softly beneath his feet, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room. "Hey," he said, his voice as gentle as a summer breeze. He reached out, his hands warm and inviting. As his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a comforting tingle spread from your fingertips up your arms.

"You don't have to hide," Hyunjin continued, his eyes soft and understanding. "I just want to capture this moment with you." His thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, a silent reassurance. Slowly, he guided your hands away from your face, revealing your features to the camera's lens.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, its rhythm quickening at the tenderness in Hyunjin's gaze. His eyes, a warm shade of brown, held a depth of emotion that made you feel cherished and safe. The vintage camera continued its soft mechanical song in the background, a testament to Hyunjin's passion for preserving memories in a tangible, nostalgic format.

"Okay, okay," you conceded with a soft laugh that filled the room like melodious chimes. You squeezed his hands, feeling the strength in his grip. "But only because it's you." The words came out barely above a whisper, laden with affection.

Hyunjin's face transformed at your words, lighting up with unbridled joy. His smile, brighter than any camera flash, crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed a row of perfect teeth. The happiness radiating from him was almost palpable, filling the space between you with warmth and love.

Hyunjin returned to the camera, his eyes sparkling with renewed enthusiasm. As he lifted the device, its weight familiar in his hands, you felt a sudden surge of confidence coursing through your veins. The nervousness that had plagued you earlier evaporated like morning mist, replaced by a playful energy that tingled in your fingertips.

You struck an exaggerated pose, channeling your inner supermodel. Your arms stretched dramatically overhead, one hip cocked to the side, and your lips pursed in an over-the-top pout. The ridiculous stance caused Hyunjin to burst into laughter, the sound rich and warm, filling the room with joy. His shoulders shook with mirth as he struggled to keep the camera steady, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you loved.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged between chuckles, his voice warm with affection and a hint of something more. "Just be yourself." The vintage camera whirred softly, capturing your genuine smile, the love that shone in your eyes, and the comfortable intimacy between you. The red recording light blinked steadily, a silent witness to your shared moment.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself relaxing more and more under Hyunjin's attentive gaze. You twirled for the camera, letting out a carefree laugh as your hair fanned out around you. The soft afternoon light streaming through the windows caught the highlights in your tresses, creating a halo effect that Hyunjin couldn't help but admire.

Suddenly, Hyunjin lowered the camera slightly, his eyes meeting yours over the top of the device. A mischievous glint appeared in his gaze, sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine. "Hey, baby," he said, his voice dropping to a sultry tone that made your breath catch in your throat. "Why don't you show me your sexy side?"

The suggestion caught you off guard, a delicious mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach like a swarm of butterflies. Your breath hitched as you considered his words, the atmosphere in the room shifting palpably. The air seemed to grow thicker, charged with an electric tension that made your skin prickle with awareness. You could feel the weight of Hyunjin's gaze on you, intense and full of desire, as he waited for your response.

"You mean... like, right now?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and intrigue. Your eyes widened slightly, a flush creeping up your neck as the implications of Hyunjin's suggestion sank in. The room suddenly felt warmer, the air thick with anticipation.

Hyunjin nodded, his gaze intense as he watched you through the viewfinder. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the movement drawing your attention to the strong line of his jaw. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the camera, betraying his own nervousness and excitement.

"Only if you're comfortable," he assured you, his voice dropping an octave lower, the deep timbre sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually a warm brown, had darkened with desire, the pupils dilating as they roamed over your form. "But I'd love to capture how beautiful and sensual you are." His words hung in the air between you, charged with electricity. They ignited a spark of desire within you, your skin tingling with anticipation, goosebumps rising along your arms despite the warmth of the room.

You bit your lip, considering his request. The soft flesh gave under your teeth, and you noticed how Hyunjin's gaze zeroed in on the movement, his breath catching audibly. The vintage camera whirred softly in his hands, its mechanical sound oddly soothing in the charged atmosphere. It was a tangible reminder of the moment, of the potential to capture something intimate and beautiful.

With a deep breath, you decided to embrace the moment. You could feel your inhibitions slowly melting away like ice under a warm sun, replaced by a heady mix of nervousness and excitement. Your heart raced in your chest, its rhythm matching the steady blink of the camera's recording light. As you met Hyunjin's gaze again, a silent understanding passed between you, and you felt a surge of confidence. This was Hyunjin, after all - the person you trusted most in the world. With him, you were safe to explore, to be vulnerable, to be sensual.

Your fingers, trembling with a mix of nervousness and excitement, traced a delicate path down your body. They danced along your collarbone, skimmed over the swell of your breasts, and finally came to rest at the hem of your shirt. The soft cotton fabric felt cool against your fingertips as you toyed with it, your touch feather-light and teasing. You could feel the heat of Hyunjin's gaze through the camera lens, his intense focus making your skin tingle.

With a coy smile playing on your lips, you slowly began to lift the material. The fabric whispered against your skin as it rose, revealing your body inch by tantalizing inch. First, the smooth plane of your stomach came into view, the soft curves of your waist accentuated by the dim lighting. As you continued to raise the shirt, the delicate lace of your bra peeked out, the intricate patterns casting subtle shadows on your skin.

Hyunjin's reaction was immediate and visceral. His breath hitched audibly, the sound sharp in the quiet room. You watched as his knuckles turned white, his grip on the camera tightening to the point where you could see the tendons in his hands straining. Despite his obvious desire, his movements remained steady, the camera unwavering as he captured every sensual movement. The red recording light blinked steadily, a silent witness to the intimate moment unfolding between you.

Emboldened by Hyunjin's encouraging gaze, you let your shirt fall to the floor with a soft rustle. The fabric whispered against your skin as it descended, revealing your lace-trimmed bra inch by tantalizing inch. The delicate material hugged your curves perfectly, the intricate floral patterns of the lace casting intricate shadows on your skin in the dim light. Your chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, the subtle movement drawing Hyunjin's eyes to the swell of your breasts.

The camera's soft whirring seemed to intensify, its mechanical purr matching the rapid beating of your heart. You could almost feel the heat of Hyunjin's gaze through the lens, his eyes darkening with unbridled desire. His pupils dilated visibly as he drank in the sight of you, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "You're breathtaking, baby," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, husky and thick with want.

You bit down on your bottom lip, feeling the plump flesh give under your teeth. The slight sting sent a jolt of pleasure through you, heightening your senses. Your fingers, trembling slightly with anticipation, trailed over your exposed stomach. The touch left a trail of tingling skin in its wake, goosebumps rising as your hand moved lower. You traced the curve of your hip, fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants before coming to rest on the soft fabric of your sweat pants.

"You watching?" you teased, your voice low and sultry, barely above a whisper. Your eyes locked with Hyunjin's, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat. "Don't take your eyes off me, now." The words came out as both a command and a plea, charged with the electric tension building between you. You held his gaze, feeling a heady rush of power at the way his eyes seemed unable to leave your form. The red recording light of the camera blinked steadily, silently capturing every detail of this intimate moment.

Your hands moved to remove your pants, the soft rustle of the draw strings being untied and coming undone echoing in the quiet room. The sound seemed amplified in the charged atmosphere, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. With deliberate slowness, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband, relishing the feel of the soft material against your fingertips. You began to slide the fabric down your hips, revealing more and more skin. The cloth whispered against your legs as it fell, the friction creating a subtle tingling sensation that heightened your awareness of every exposed nerve ending.

Hyunjin's gaze intensified, his eyes darkening with unbridled desire as the camera captured every exquisite detail. You could see his pupils dilate even more, drinking in the sight of your curves being unveiled - the soft dip of your waist, the gentle swell of your hips, the smooth expanse of your thighs. The vintage camera whirred softly, its mechanical purr a stark contrast to Hyunjin's labored breathing. "Baby, you're driving me crazy," he murmured, his voice thick and husky with want. A slight tremor in his hands betrayed his composure, the camera wavering almost imperceptibly as he fought to keep it steady.

You giggled softly, the sound light and teasing, a stark contrast to the heavy tension in the air. Slowly, you turned around, presenting your back to Hyunjin. The movement was deliberate, almost choreographed in its sensuality. You glanced over your shoulder, catching his intense gaze through the camera lens. The heat in his eyes sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core. Your hands, slightly trembling with anticipation, reached behind you to unhook your bra. The delicate lace fabric whispered against your skin as you carefully unclasped each hook, the suspense building with every tiny 'click'. The straps slid down your shoulders, revealing the smooth plane of your back inch by inch. You could feel Hyunjin's gaze like a physical touch, tracing the curve of your spine, the subtle dimples at the small of your back.

As the bra fell away, you let it slide down your arms with exquisite slowness, savoring the sensation of the cool air kissing your newly exposed skin. Goosebumps erupted across your flesh, a physical manifestation of the anticipation coursing through your veins. You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes locking with Hyunjin's intense gaze through the camera lens. His eyes, usually a warm brown, had darkened to near black with desire, his pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the iris. His lips were slightly parted, his breath coming in shallow pants as he drank in the sight of your bare back.

The anticipation built to a fever pitch as you began to turn to face him. Your movements were deliberate and sensual, each shift of your body a carefully choreographed dance designed to tease and entice. As you pivoted, the soft glow of the room played across your skin, casting gentle shadows that accentuated every curve and dip of your body. The light caught the subtle sheen of perspiration on your skin, making you glisten like a work of art come to life.

Hyunjin's reaction was immediate and visceral. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips, the sound so primal it made your pussy throb intensely. The camera wavered in his hands, the image blurring momentarily as his grip faltered. You watched as he visibly steadied himself, his jaw clenching with the effort of maintaining his composure. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his hold on the camera, determined to capture every exquisite detail of your beauty despite his own overwhelming desire.

His eyes roamed over your body with an intensity that felt almost tangible, as if his gaze alone could caress your skin. You could see the hunger burning in his eyes as they traced the slope of your neck, lingered on the swell of your breasts, and followed the curve of your waist. His chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, each inhale sharp and ragged. A flush had crept up his neck, staining his cheeks a deep red that spoke volumes about the depth of his arousal. The air between you crackled with tension, electric and charged with unspoken promises of pleasure to come.

Your nipples instantly hardened under his scrutiny, the cool air and the heat of his gaze sending electric shivers cascading down your spine. You watched, heart racing, as his eyes focused intently on your breasts, drinking in every detail of your peaked nipples and the soft, inviting curves of your chest. Hyunjin's tongue darted out, slowly wetting his lips in an unconscious gesture of want. The tip of his pink tongue traced the outline of his mouth, leaving a glistening trail that caught the dim light. His lips, now moist and slightly parted, looked even more inviting than usual, tempting you to lean in and capture them with your own.

"Keep going, baby," Hyunjin encouraged, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that seemed to reverberate through your very core. The deep timbre of his words sent a jolt of arousal straight to your center, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through your body. You could hear the barely contained desire in his voice, the way it trembled slightly with the effort of maintaining control. "You're so beautiful," he continued, his eyes never leaving your body as he adjusted the camera slightly. The soft whir of the device seemed amplified in the charged atmosphere. "I want to capture every inch of you, every curve, every perfect detail." His words washed over you like a warm caress, making you feel both exposed and empowered. You could see the adoration in his eyes, mixed with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat. Your confidence grew with each passing second under his adoring gaze, emboldening you to move with even more sensuality. The knowledge that every movement, every expression was being immortalized on film only heightened your arousal, pushing you to embrace your sexuality fully.

"Turn around for me," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. His eyes, dark and intense, roamed over your body as you slowly pivoted. The soft whir of the camera filled the room, punctuated by Hyunjin's sharp intake of breath. The red recording light blinked steadily, capturing every curve and contour of your form.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his free hand reaching out to caress your skin. The first touch of his fingers sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you gasp and arch into his touch. His calloused fingertips, warm and slightly rough, traced delicate patterns along your collarbone. The contrast between his gentle touch and the coolness of the air made goosebumps erupt across your skin.

Slowly, teasingly, his hand moved lower. It skimmed over the swell of your breast, his thumb just barely grazing your nipple. The feather-light touch sent a shiver down your spine, your nipple hardening instantly. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his hand continued its exploration, tracing the curve of your waist and the dip of your ribcage. Each touch left a trail of tingling skin in its wake, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers danced along the sensitive skin of your stomach, the muscles there quivering under his touch.

With agonizing slowness, he slid his hand lower, his touch feather-light yet scorching against your sensitive skin. His fingers danced over the curve of your ass, kneading the soft flesh with a gentleness that belied the hunger in his eyes. A low, primal growl rumbled deep in his chest as he pressed his body flush against yours, the heat of his skin searing into you like a brand. Every hard plane of his muscles, every defined contour of his body molded perfectly against your softer curves, creating a delicious friction that had you gasping for air.

You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against your back, his heart thundering in tandem with yours. The contrast between his firm grip on your hip and the gentle caress of his other hand, still steadily holding the camera, sent conflicting waves of sensation through your body. It was as if he was simultaneously claiming you and worshipping you, the dichotomy igniting a fire deep in your core that threatened to consume you entirely.

The feel of his hard, sculpted muscles pressing against your soft flesh sent violent shivers cascading down your spine. Every subtle movement, every breath, allowed you to map the contours of his toned body with your skin. The heat radiating from him was almost overwhelming, his skin feeling like liquid fire against yours. The stark contrast between his firm, chiseled physique and your softer, more yielding curves was intoxicating, each point of contact between your bodies a source of exquisite pleasure.

A powerful wave of arousal rolled through your body, starting from where his skin met yours and spreading outward like wildfire. The intensity of the sensation made you instinctively squeeze your thighs together, desperately seeking some friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs.

Hyunjin's voice dropped to a seductive whisper, his hot breath tickling the sensitive shell of your ear. "Turn around, baby," he murmured, his lips barely grazing your earlobe. "Let me see that beautiful face." His words were like liquid velvet, wrapping around you and drawing you in, impossible to resist.

You complied, your movements slow and deliberate. As you turned, you savored the exquisite sensation of his body sliding against yours. The friction of skin on skin was electrifying, each point of contact sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Your nipples, already hardened peaks, brushed against his chest, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

Finally face to face, your eyes met his intense gaze through the camera lens. You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable under his scrutiny, yet the vulnerability only served to heighten your arousal. Your heart raced, its rapid tempo echoing in your ears as a flush crept up your chest, staining your cheeks a deep crimson.

"Now," Hyunjin commanded softly, his voice husky and thick with desire, "touch yourself for me." His free hand reached out, fingers ghosting along your collarbone, leaving a trail of tingling skin in their wake. "Start with your breasts. Show me how you like to be touched." His eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat, pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises.

Your hands trembled with anticipation as you cupped your breasts, the soft, pliant flesh yielding under your touch. You began to tease the sensitive buds, your fingers dancing across the areolas before gently rolling the hardened peaks between your thumb and forefinger. The sensation sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making your breath catch in your throat.

A soft, breathy moan escaped your lips as you increased the pressure, pinching your nipples with just enough force to teeter on the edge of pain and pleasure. The jolt of sensation went straight to your core, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through your lower belly. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing your breasts further into your hands as you continued your ministrations.

Hyunjin's reaction was immediate. His breath hitched audibly, the sound sharp and ragged in the quiet room. The camera wavered slightly in his grip, the image blurring for a moment before he steadied himself. His eyes, dark with desire, were fixed on your hands as they worked your breasts.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice dropping an octave lower, thick and husky with lust. The sound sent another wave of arousal coursing through your body. "You're so fucking sexy. The way you touch yourself... it's driving me crazy." He shifted his stance, adjusting his grip on the camera. "Keep going," he urged, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Show me how good it feels."

"Slide your hand down," he instructed, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent electricity coursing through your veins. The roughness in his tone was palpable, each word dripping with unbridled desire. "Spread those beautiful legs for me," he continued, his eyes darkening to an almost obsidian hue. "I want to see just how wet you are for me, baby." His gaze, intense and unwavering, burned into your skin as he made minute adjustments to the camera, ensuring every tantalizing detail would be captured.

You complied, your fingers quivering with a mix of anticipation and arousal as they traced a torturously slow path down your stomach. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of your touch. Your breath hitched as your hand inched lower, the anticipation building with each passing second. As your legs parted, the rush of cool air against your heated core made you gasp audibly, the sudden contrast in temperature sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Your fingers finally reached the apex of your thighs, and the first brush against your sensitive flesh elicited a breathy moan that echoed in the quiet room. The camera whirred softly, its lens drinking in every detail - the slight arch of your back as pleasure coursed through you, the rosy flush that crept up your chest, painting your skin with desire, and the way your teeth worried your bottom lip, a mix of concentration and ecstasy etched on your features. Your fingers explored further, sliding through the slick heat of your arousal, and you couldn't suppress the shuddering gasp that escaped your lips as you touched yourself more intimately.

"That's my good girl," Hyunjin praised, his voice thick with lust. The sound of it sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core, making your inner walls clench with anticipation. His eyes, dark and intense, burned with desire behind the camera lens, drinking in every minute detail of your exposed form. "Now, I want you to finger yourself," he continued, his words coming out in a low, gravelly tone that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. "Nice and slow. Let me hear every pretty little sound you make."

You held his gaze as you settled back, your body sinking into the soft, cool sheets. The contrast between the silky fabric and your heated skin sent a shiver down your spine. "Like this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breathy and trembling with arousal. Your fingers, slightly shaky with anticipation, found your swollen clit. The first contact sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you gasp audibly. You began to circle it slowly, teasingly, feeling it swell further under your touch. Each pass of your fingertips sent waves of pleasure radiating outward, making your toes curl and your back arch slightly off the bed. Your hips rolled instinctively, seeking more friction, the movement fluid and sensual. The soft whir of the camera seemed to grow louder in the charged atmosphere, capturing every twitch, every gasp, every expression of pleasure that flitted across your face.

In the dim lighting, your arousal glistened on your fingers, the sight making Hyunjin's breath hitch audibly. The soft, warm light cast a golden glow on your skin, accentuating every curve and dip of your body. Your fingers moved languidly, spreading the slick wetness, each movement causing the light to dance across your glistening flesh. The sight was mesmerizing, drawing Hyunjin's gaze like a moth to a flame.

Your own labored breathing mixed with Hyunjin's, creating a symphony of desire that filled the room. Each exhale was punctuated by soft, breathy moans that seemed to caress the air. The sound of your pleasure was intoxicating, making Hyunjin's heart race and his body burn with need. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Through the fabric of his pants, you could clearly see the outline of Hyunjin's hardening cock. It strained against the confines of his clothing, the impressive length and girth evident even through the layers. As he palmed himself, trying to alleviate some of the building pressure, the movement only served to emphasize his arousal further. His hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, matching the rhythm of your own ministrations.

Hyunjin's struggle to keep the camera steady was evident in the slight tremor of his hands. The vintage camera, with its bulky form and worn edges, seemed to weigh heavier in his grip as his desire grew. He shifted his stance, trying to find a balance between capturing every tantalizing detail and giving in to his own mounting pleasure. The soft whir of the camera's mechanics provided a constant backdrop to the erotic scene unfolding before its lens, preserving every moan, every touch, every heated glance for posterity.

Your back arched off the bed, a sinuous curve that highlighted the sensual lines of your body, as you slowly slid two fingers inside yourself. The initial penetration drew a breathy, trembling moan from your lips, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The sensation of your own fingers exploring your wet heat was electric, sending shivers cascading down your spine like a waterfall of pleasure. You could feel every ridge, every fold of your inner walls as they clenched eagerly around your digits, desperate for more stimulation.

As you began to move your fingers, curling them slightly to brush against that sensitive spot inside you, your body responded with a symphony of micro-expressions. Your toes curled, pressing into the sheets, while your free hand fisted in the bedding, knuckles turning white with the intensity of your grip. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, punctuated by soft whimpers of pleasure that seemed to hang in the air.

Hyunjin's reaction to this display was visceral and immediate. His eyes, already dark with desire, seemed to darken further, his pupils dilating so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises. The change was subtle but profound, transforming his gaze into something primal and hungry. His grip on the camera tightened visibly, the tendons in his hands standing out in sharp relief as he struggled to keep the device steady. A soft, almost inaudible growl rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated want.

Unconsciously, Hyunjin's tongue darted out to wet his lips once again, leaving them glistening in the low light. The movement was slow, almost sensual, as if he was imagining tasting you instead. His gaze remained unwaveringly fixed on the movement of your hand between your legs, tracking every twist and curl of your fingers with an intensity that was almost palpable. The soft whir of the camera seemed to grow louder in the charged atmosphere, capturing every twitch, every gasp, every expression of pleasure that flitted across your face.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire, a low rumble that reverberated through your bones. His eyes, dark and intense, burned into yours with an almost predatory hunger. "You look so fucking good like this. The way your fingers move, the flush on your skin... it's intoxicating." He licked his lips, his gaze never wavering from your writhing form. "Keep going, show me exactly how you like to be touched. Every little detail, every spot that makes you shiver." His words, dripping with raw, unfiltered arousal, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you entirely.

Hyunjin's resolve finally shattered, the tension in his body palpable as he carefully set the camera down on the nightstand. His movements were deliberate, almost reverent, as he angled it meticulously to capture the entire bed. The soft whir of the device seemed to echo in the charged atmosphere, a constant reminder that every moment of your shared passion would be immortalized. "I can't just watch anymore," he growled, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to his shirt buttons with an urgency that betrayed his barely contained desire, fingers trembling slightly as they worked to expose his skin.

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating with arousal as you watched him strip. Each inch of his toned body was revealed in agonizing slowness, as if he was purposely teasing you with the display. The planes of his abs flexed and rippled with each movement, the low, warm light of the room casting dramatic shadows that accentuated every curve and dip of his muscled form. A thin sheen of sweat had begun to form on his skin, making it glisten tantalizingly. You found yourself mesmerized by the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the strength and grace of his body on full display. The sight of him, combined with the knowledge that every second was being captured on film, sent a fresh surge of arousal flooding through you, making your core clench with anticipation.

He swiftly discarded his remaining clothing, his erection springing free with an audible slap against his toned abdomen. Your eyes widened, pupils dilating at the sight of his impressive length. It stood proudly erect, the shaft thick and veined, the head swollen and glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the dim light. Your mouth watered involuntarily, your tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips. Your fingers, still buried between your legs, increased their pace, matching your rising anticipation.

Hyunjin's approach was predatory, his movements fluid and calculated as he crawled onto the bed. His muscles rippled under his skin with each motion, the low light casting shadows that accentuated every curve and dip of his physique. His eyes, now almost black with lust, were fixed unwaveringly on your writhing form. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like prey, pinned and exposed under his scrutiny. "Keep touching yourself," he commanded, his voice a deep, husky growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. The authoritative tone brooked no argument as he positioned himself between your legs, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his exhalation against your inner thigh, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room that raised goosebumps across your flesh. He placed a soft, almost reverent kiss on the sensitive skin there, his lips warm and slightly chapped from his heavy breathing. Then another kiss, slightly higher, and another, slowly working his way up your thigh with agonizing precision. Each press of his lips sent jolts of pleasure shooting through your body, making your skin tingle and your muscles twitch with anticipation. The teasing pace was maddening, each kiss bringing him tantalizingly closer to where you needed him most.

"You taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin but still loud enough for the camera to pick up. The vibration of his words against your sensitive flesh sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. Without warning, his tongue darted out, licking a long, slow stripe up your slit. The sudden wet heat of it made you gasp audibly, your back arching off the bed. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward from your core. A loud, unrestrained moan tore from your throat, the sound echoing in the room and undoubtedly captured by the camera's microphone. Your hips bucked involuntarily against his face, seeking more of that delicious friction, desperate for him to continue his ministrations.

"I can't wait to watch you later," he mumbled against your inner thigh, his breath hot and moist against your sensitive skin. The warmth of his exhalation sent shivers racing up your spine, making your muscles twitch with anticipation. "How fucking perfect and sweet my girl is." His lips brushed against your flesh as he spoke, the slight friction igniting sparks of pleasure that radiated outward. The vibration of his deep voice against your skin added another layer of sensation, making you gasp softly. His words, dripping with raw desire, sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body, making your core clench with need.

Hyunjin's tongue worked magic on your sensitive flesh, his skilled mouth drawing out breathy moans and whimpers from your lips. He alternated between broad, flat strokes that covered your entire slit, the wet heat of his tongue sliding from your entrance to your clit in one fluid motion, and focused flicks against your swollen bundle of nerves. Each pass of his tongue sent jolts of electricity through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the pleasure built within you, threatening to overflow. You could feel the silky strands of his hair between your fingers, the texture a stark contrast to the slick heat of his mouth against you. Your grip tightened involuntarily with each wave of ecstasy that washed over you, causing Hyunjin to moan against your core, the vibrations adding yet another layer to the overwhelming sensations.

The camera continued to whir softly in the background, its presence a constant reminder that every intimate moment of your shared ecstasy was being immortalized on film. The knowledge that your most private expressions of pleasure were being captured, every moan, every twitch, every flush of your skin, only served to heighten your arousal further. The soft mechanical sound seemed to blend with your heavy breathing and Hyunjin's hungry groans, creating a symphony of desire that filled the room. You could almost feel the lens of the camera on your skin, its gaze as palpable and electrifying as Hyunjin's touch, preserving this moment of intense passion for eternity.

"Fuck, baby," Hyunjin growled, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. The warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin sent electric shivers cascading up your spine, making your toes curl with pleasure. His skilled tongue traced intricate patterns, alternating between broad, flat strokes that covered your entire slit and focused, rapid flicks against your swollen clit. Each pass of his tongue sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, making your back arch off the bed. "I want to make you scream,” he murmured, the vibration of his words against your core adding another layer of sensation that had you gasping.

You bucked your hips against his face, desperate for more friction. Your fingers tangled in his silky hair, pulling him closer, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. The gentle tug elicited a deep moan from Hyunjin, the sound reverberating through your core. The soft whir of the camera in the background only heightened your arousal, reminding you that every moan, every twitch, every expression of pleasure was being immortalized on film. "Please, Hyunjin," you begged, your voice breathy and high-pitched with need, cracking slightly as another wave of pleasure washed over you. "I need you inside me. Now." Your words hung in the air, heavy with desperation and desire.

Hyunjin smirked, his lips glistening with your arousal as he rose up to position himself at your entrance. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like prey, pinned and exposed under his scrutiny. "You want my cock, baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with raw, unfiltered arousal. He teased your entrance with the tip of his length, the swollen head sliding tantalizingly along your slick folds, making you whimper with need. Your hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more contact, more friction, more of him. "Tell me how badly you want it," he commanded, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Show me, just how much you crave my cock."

"I want it so fucking bad," you moaned, your voice thick with desire. Your legs spread wider, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your fingers clutched desperately at the sheets, knuckles turning white as you gripped tighter. The cool fabric against your heated skin sent shivers down your spine. "Please, fuck me hard," you begged, your eyes locked on Hyunjin's, pupils dilated with lust. "I need to feel every inch of you.”

Without warning, Hyunjin pushed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful motion. The sudden fullness made you cry out in ecstasy, your back arching off the bed. Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red trails across his smooth skin. The sharp sting only seemed to spur him on. "That's it, baby," he grunted, his voice low and husky in your ear. He set a punishing pace, each thrust driving deeper than the last. The bed creaked rhythmically beneath you, the headboard thumping against the wall with each powerful movement. "Take it.. so good.. fuck yes," he growled, his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. "Show the camera how well you can take it, how perfectly you were made for me."

The room filled with a symphony of passion - the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of your arousal, your high-pitched moans mingling with Hyunjin's deep, guttural grunts. The camera continued to record faithfully, its lens capturing every thrust, every expression of ecstasy on your faces. You could almost feel its gaze on your skin, heightening your awareness of every touch, every sensation. The knowledge that your most intimate moments were being immortalized on film sent a thrill of excitement through you, fueling your arousal to new heights. Your eyes fluttered closed as pleasure overwhelmed you, but Hyunjin's voice brought you back. "Open your eyes, baby," he commanded breathlessly. "Let the camera see how good I make you feel, how beautifully you come undone for me."

"You're so fucking tight," Hyunjin groaned, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. Sweat glistened on his brow, trickling down his temple and along the sharp line of his jaw. His muscles rippled and flexed with each powerful movement, the low light accentuating every curve and dip of his toned physique. "Squeeze my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you love it.”

You clenched around him, your inner walls gripping his length tightly. The sensation of your silken heat constricting around him drew out a deep, guttural moan from his lips. The sound reverberated through your body, sending shivers down your spine. "That's it," he praised, his hand snaking between your bodies. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles that made your vision blur at the edges. The dual stimulation of his relentless thrusts and the expert manipulation of your sensitive bundle of nerves made your toes curl, your back arching off the bed as pleasure built rapidly in your core. "I want you to cum all over my cock," Hyunjin growled, his eyes dark with lust as they bore into yours.

Hyunjin slipped his fingers into your mouth, his eyes dark with desire. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, his pupils dilated so wide they nearly eclipsed the warm brown of his irises. "Suck," he commanded, his voice husky and demanding, the single word dripping with raw, unfiltered lust. You eagerly complied, your tongue swirling around his digits with practiced precision. The taste of your own arousal mingled with the salt of his skin, creating an intoxicating flavor that made your head spin. Your taste buds exploded with the tangy sweetness of your juices combined with the slightly bitter, musky flavor of his skin.

The camera captured every detail as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking his fingers deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. Your lips wrapped tightly around his digits, the soft pink flesh a stark contrast against his tanned skin. A thin string of saliva connected your bottom lip to his hand as you pulled back slightly, only to take his fingers deeper again. Your eyes never left his, the intensity of your shared gaze adding another layer to your building pleasure. You could see the fire burning in his eyes, the raw desire that threatened to consume you both.

"Good girl," Hyunjin groaned, his hips never slowing their relentless pace. His voice was thick with desire, the words coming out as a gravelly growl that sent shivers cascading down your spine. You could feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest, pressed flush against yours. "Show the camera how well you can use that pretty mouth." The words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation, each syllable dripping with promise and barely contained lust.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Hyunjin reached over to grab the camera, his movements fluid and purposeful. The muscles in his arm flexed as he stretched, the low light accentuating every curve and dip of his toned physique. He never broke his rhythm, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, the steady slap of skin on skin providing a primal backdrop to the scene. "I want to capture every detail of your beautiful face," he panted, bringing the lens close to your flushed features. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, warm against your skin. The cool metal of the camera contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from your skin, the sudden temperature change making you gasp around his fingers. The lens of the camera glinted in the dim light, its unblinking eye drinking in every detail of your pleasure-contorted face.

The camera whirred softly as Hyunjin angled it to capture your parted lips and lust-filled eyes. The mechanical sound, a gentle hum in the background, seemed to heighten your senses exponentially. Every nerve ending in your body became hypersensitive, acutely aware of the slightest touch or movement. The cool metal of the camera contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from your flushed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Look at the camera, baby," Hyunjin commanded, his voice husky and thick with desire. The low, gravelly tone of his words vibrated through your body, igniting a fire deep within your core. His breath, hot and heavy, ghosted over your ear as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the thrill of being recorded, sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch slightly off the bed.

You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room as your eyes locked with the lens. Hyunjin continued to thrust deep inside you, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The camera's unblinking eye seemed to drink in every detail - the flush spreading across your cheeks, the way your lips parted with each gasp, the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. Knowing that every expression of ecstasy was being immortalized on film sent a new surge of arousal through you, intensifying every sensation tenfold.

"Yeah..," Hyunjin groaned, his free hand tangling in your hair. His fingers wove through the strands, gently tugging at your scalp. The slight pain mixed with pleasure, sending sparks cascading down your spine and pooling in your lower abdomen. "You're so fucking beautiful when you're taking my cock." His words, raw and unfiltered, dripped with lust and admiration. The praise washed over you, further stoking the flames of your desire. You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest, pressed flush against yours, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body.

The camera lens captured every detail of your ecstasy-filled expression as Hyunjin continued his relentless pace. Your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the pleasure threatening to consume you entirely. But Hyunjin's voice brought you back, anchoring you to reality. "Open those beautiful eyes for me, baby," he commanded, his voice strained with pleasure. You could hear the tension in his words, feel it in the way his body moved against yours. "I want to see you cum.” His request was both thrilling and intimidating, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Your body tensed as you felt the familiar pressure building inside you. Hyunjin's thrusts became more erratic, his breathing ragged. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the room, mixing with the soft whir of the camera. Sweat glistened on your bodies, catching the dim light. "I'm close, baby," he groaned, his voice husky with desire. His eyes locked onto yours through the camera lens, dark and intense. "Cum with me. Let go."

With a cry of unbridled ecstasy, you felt yourself tipping over the edge of oblivion. Your back arched sharply off the bed, the curve of your spine almost painful in its intensity. Your fingers dug desperately into Hyunjin's shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his smooth skin. Your walls clenched rhythmically around Hyunjin's cock, the pulsating pressure so intense it bordered on overwhelming. Each contraction sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, from your curling toes to the roots of your hair.

Suddenly, an intense rush of warmth flooded between your legs. The sensation was unlike anything you'd experienced before - a powerful, uncontrollable release that left you gasping for air. You squirted forcefully, your juices coating Hyunjin's thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you. The warm liquid gushed out in pulsating waves, each one coinciding with a new crest of pleasure. The air filled with the heady scent of your arousal, musky and intoxicating.

The sensation was utterly overwhelming, short-circuiting your senses. Your toes curled so tightly you could feel the strain in your calves. Your vision blurred at the edges, the room seeming to spin around you. Bright spots danced behind your eyelids as you squeezed them shut, your mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to fire at once, leaving you trembling and oversensitive. The intensity of your orgasm left you breathless, your chest heaving as you struggled to draw air into your lungs.

Hyunjin's eyes widened in surprise and arousal, his pupils dilating so much that only a thin ring of brown remained visible. "Fuck, baby," he moaned, his voice breaking with pleasure, the words coming out as a guttural, primal sound. His hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he reached his own climax, his movements becoming erratic and desperate. He buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing forcefully as he came hard. You could feel the warmth of his release filling you, each powerful spurt intensifying your own pleasure. The sensation of his hot seed coating your inner walls sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, prolonging your orgasm. All the while, he managed to keep the camera steady on your face with trembling hands, his biceps flexing with the effort as he captured every moment of your shared ecstasy.

The camera faithfully recorded every minute detail of your shared orgasm - your flushed cheeks, a rosy tint spreading down to your chest and blooming across your collarbones. Your lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure, glistening with saliva from your earlier activities. Your eyes, half-lidded and hazy with bliss, remained locked with Hyunjin's through the lens, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never express. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on your skin, catching the low light and giving you an ethereal glow. Hyunjin's deep groans of pleasure mixed with your breathless moans and whimpers, creating a symphony of ecstasy that echoed off the walls. The air was thick with the heady scent of sex and sweat, a potent cocktail of pheromones adding to the sensory overload of the moment. The vintage camera whirred softly, its mechanical sound a stark contrast to the organic, passionate sounds filling the room, as it diligently immortalized this intimate, passionate encounter between you and Hyunjin.

As Hyunjin slowly withdrew, his eyes smoldering with renewed desire, he gracefully moved up your body. His cock, still semi-erect, glistened tantalizingly with your combined fluids. The dim, warm light of the room caught on the slick sheen, accentuating every prominent vein and ridge along his length. His well-defined muscles rippled smoothly under his tanned skin as he positioned himself over you, the vintage camera faithfully capturing every sensual movement.

"Taste yourself on me, baby," he commanded, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sent electric shivers cascading down your spine. The raw desire in his tone made your core clench with anticipation. "Show the camera how much you love it." His hot breath fanned across your flushed skin, carrying the intoxicating scent of sex and sweat that hung heavy in the air between you.

You eagerly complied, your tongue darting out to trace a slow, deliberate path along the underside of his shaft. The complex flavor of your combined essences exploded on your taste buds - a heady mixture of salt, musk, and a hint of sweetness that was uniquely you. The taste was so intense it drew a soft, breathy moan from your lips. The camera whirred softly in the background, its mechanical eye fixed on the scene as your lips wrapped around the swollen head of his cock. Your cheeks hollowed as you savored the tangy sweetness of your own juices mingled with his, your tongue swirling expertly around the sensitive tip. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, lost in the sensations - the weight of him on your tongue, the familiar stretch of your lips, the musky scent filling your nostrils. When you opened them again, you were met with Hyunjin's intense gaze, dark with lust and admiration, as he watched you through the camera's lens.

“Fuck," Hyunjin groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. His fingers tightened, sending electric sparks of pleasure-pain cascading across your scalp. You could feel the powerful trembling in his muscular thighs as he fought to maintain control, his body quivering with the effort of letting you set the pace. The veins in his neck stood out prominently as he strained, his jaw clenched tight. "Take it all in your pretty mouth, baby. Show the camera how well you can please me." His voice was low and husky, dripping with desire. The camera lens caught a glint of light, its unblinking eye capturing every intimate detail of your passionate encounter.

As you continued your ministrations, Hyunjin's reactions intensified palpably. His breathing became more ragged and uneven, punctuated by soft, breathy gasps and deep, guttural moans that reverberated through his chest. The camera faithfully recorded the subtle changes in his expression - the slight furrow of his brow as pleasure built within him, the way his full lips parted in ecstasy, revealing the perfect white teeth behind them. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek, catching the dim light and giving his skin a tantalizing sheen.

"You're absolutely incredible," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion and raw desire. The words came out barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking too loudly would break the spell of the moment. He was overly sensitive but you knew he liked being overstimulated, Hyunjins hips stuttered and jerked uncontrollably. His fingers, which had been gripping your hair tightly, now loosened, gently caressing your scalp in a tender gesture that contrasted beautifully with the passion of the moment. The touch was feather-light, almost reverent, as his fingertips traced delicate patterns against your skin. His eyes, dark with lust but soft with adoration, never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster.

You gazed up, your eyes meeting Hyunjin's through the camera lens. The connection between you was electric, a tangible current that transcended the physical act. His eyes, dark and intense, were filled with a potent mixture of love, admiration, and unbridled desire. The depth of your relationship was reflected in that gaze, speaking volumes without a single word uttered.

The room was enveloped in a cocoon of intimate silence, broken only by the soft, wet sounds of your ministrations and the gentle, rhythmic whir of the camera. The air was thick and warm, heavy with the intoxicating scent of your shared passion - a heady mixture of sweat, musk, and arousal. Every touch, every movement felt electric, charged with an intensity that made your skin tingle and your heart race.

With renewed determination, you redoubled your efforts. Your tongue moved with expert precision, swirling around Hyunjin's length in intricate patterns. You traced every prominent vein, every ridge, memorizing the texture and taste of him. Your cheeks hollowed as you created a tight suction, the sudden increase in pressure making Hyunjin gasp and his hips buck involuntarily. Slowly, deliberately, you took him deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat. You suppressed your gag reflex, your eyes watering slightly as you pushed past your limits. The fullness in your mouth, the weight on your tongue, the slight strain in your jaw - all of it combined into a heady cocktail of sensation that had you moaning around his length.

Your hands weren't idle. They roamed over his muscular thighs, feeling the tension coiling beneath your fingertips. You could sense the minute tremors in his muscles, the way they flexed and relaxed with each calculated movement of your mouth. Your nails, perfectly manicured, grazed lightly along his inner thighs, leaving faint red trails in their wake. The sensation elicited a full-body shudder from Hyunjin, his skin erupting in goosebumps under your touch.

Your fingers danced upwards, tracing the sharp V of his hips, feeling the definition of each muscle. They ghosted over his abs, feeling them contract and relax with each ragged breath. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the thin sheen of sweat making him glisten in the dim light.

Hyunjin's breathing became increasingly labored, his broad chest heaving with each gasping inhale. His moans grew in volume and intensity, transforming from soft, breathy sighs to deep, guttural groans that reverberated through the room. The sounds echoed off the walls, creating a symphony of pleasure that spurred you on, each noise a testament to your skill and dedication. You could taste the familiar salty sweetness of his pre-cum on your tongue, the flavor intensifying with each passing moment, a clear sign of his impending release.

As you worked him towards his second climax, your movements became more purposeful, more intense. Your tongue swirled around his length, tracing every vein and ridge with meticulous attention. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight suction that had Hyunjin's hips bucking involuntarily. Your hands moved to his hips, steadying him, your fingers digging into the firm flesh there.

You chanced a glance upwards through your lashes, and the sight that greeted you was nothing short of intoxicating. Hyunjin's head was thrown back, the long column of his throat exposed. His Adam's apple bobbed prominently as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenched tight. His plush lips were parted in a silent cry of ecstasy, occasionally forming soundless words - your name, perhaps, or breathless pleas for more. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin, making him glow in the soft light of the room. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes squeezed shut as he lost himself in the sensations you were providing.

The camera, still whirring softly in the background, captured every minute detail of his pleasure-contorted face. It immortalized the way his chest heaved with each labored breath, the flex of his abs as he fought to maintain control, the trembling in his thighs as he neared his peak. Every twitch, every gasp, every subtle change in his expression was forever preserved, a testament to this moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

"Fuck, baby," Hyunjin groaned, his free hand tangling in your hair, fingers twisting gently but firmly against your scalp. His voice was low and raspy, thick with desire. "I'm close. Don't stop." The desperation in his tone was palpable, sending shivers down your spine.

The camera continued to whir softly, its mechanical eye capturing every detail of your passionate exchange. Your lips moved up and down his shaft with increased fervor, your cheeks hollowing as you intensified the suction. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him completely, your tongue tracing intricate patterns along his length. Hyunjin's hips began to buck erratically, his grip on your hair tightening. His thighs trembled with the effort of holding back, muscles taut beneath your palms.

With a final, guttural moan that seemed to come from deep within his chest, Hyunjin reached his peak. His cock pulsed rhythmically in your mouth as he came, spilling his seed onto your waiting tongue. The taste was familiar yet intoxicating - salty, slightly bitter, uniquely him. You eagerly swallowed every drop, your throat working to take it all in. All the while, your eyes remained locked with his through the camera lens, the intensity of your shared gaze adding another layer of intimacy to the moment.

As Hyunjin's orgasm subsided, you gave his softening length one final, gentle lick, savoring the last traces of his essence. Your tongue swirled delicately around the sensitive head, eliciting a soft shudder from him. The oversensitivity made his breath hitch, a small gasp escaping his parted lips. The camera faithfully captured the look of pure satisfaction on both your faces, a testament to the intense passion you shared. Hyunjin's eyes were half-lidded, pupils still dilated, a mix of adoration and lingering desire evident in his gaze. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, making him appear almost ethereal in the dim light of the room.

Hyunjin lowered the camera, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the dim light of the room. The muscles in his arms quivered slightly from the exertion of holding the camera steady for so long. His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on you with a mixture of adoration and lingering desire.

"That was... absolutely incredible," he panted, a lazy smile spreading across his face. His voice was still husky, a reminder of the passionate sounds he had made just moments ago. His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your cheek, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I can't wait to watch this later. The way you look when you're lost in pleasure... it's breathtaking. The way your eyes flutter closed, the soft moans that escape your lips, the flush that spreads across your skin... it's like a work of art."

You glanced at Hyunjin, a soft smile playing on your lips. Your skin still tingled from his touch, every nerve ending hypersensitive in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. You could feel the pleasant ache in your muscles, a delicious reminder of the intensity you had just shared. The air around you was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, creating an intimate cocoon that separated you from the outside world.

"Baby, can you put the camera away now?" you asked, your voice gentle but pleading. Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. You marveled at the smoothness of his skin, the definition of his muscles, the way his body responded to even your lightest touch.

Hyunjin's eyes softened at your request, understanding the intimacy you craved. He carefully set the camera aside on the nightstand, his fingers lingering on the device for a moment before withdrawing. The soft click of the camera being set down echoed in the room, a subtle yet distinct sound that marked the transition from raw passion to tender affection. As he turned back to you, the dim light caught the contours of his face, highlighting the gentle curve of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips. You opened your arms invitingly, your body yearning for his warmth, the sheets rustling softly beneath you as you shifted to create a perfect space for him.

"Come here," you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes, still hazy with lingering desire, met his, conveying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't express. The sheets whispered against your skin as you moved, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from your body. Your fingers reached out, ghosting over his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Without hesitation, Hyunjin moved towards you, his movements fluid and graceful. He gathered you in his arms, his skin warm and slightly damp against yours, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the room. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he settled beside you, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if trying to convey all his emotions through that simple gesture. You could feel the softness of his lips, the gentle puff of his breath against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You snuggled deeper into his warm embrace, intertwining your legs with his and pressing your body flush against his. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat reverberated through your chest, a soothing cadence that matched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His arms tightened around you, one hand tracing lazy patterns on your back while the other cradled your head, fingers tangling in your hair. The scent of his skin - a mix of his natural musk and the faint traces of cologne - enveloped you, familiar and comforting.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter, the world outside your intimate bubble faded away into insignificance. The soft sound of your synchronized breathing filled the room, punctuated occasionally by the rustle of sheets as one of you shifted slightly. The warmth of your bodies mingled, creating a cocoon of comfort and contentment. In this moment, wrapped in each other's arms, nothing else mattered - just the two of you, your love, and the intimacy you shared.

Tags: @rylea08 @syedazarintasnim @cashtonsbetch @pasaatimonarkin @tzeweiii05 @sincerely-sun @moonchild9350 @athforskz @babigriin @seunmong-in @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @bangchans-angel @salemluvsmusic @seungmincenteric @kpflyn @iovecb97 @juskz @sadrosessing @fawnpeaks @galaxy4489 @chuuyaobsessed @tirena1 @tsunderelino @kissesmellow21 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nightmarenyxx @simpforleeknaur @ririwhiskers @satosugu4l @mihoonz @redlightsrachaaa @mintymintmint251 @velvetmoonlght @minniesverse @everythingboutkpop @yaorzu-blog

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[ghcstao3]

it takes an embarrassingly long time for soap to notice ghost’s irises are two different colours.

for a while now, he’d been operating under the assumption that they were both brown—it was true enough that the colour was dark, though maybe some of his perception was marred by the fact of often only seeing ghost in low lighting and with a mask to shade his eyes. so it’s not soap’s fault, not really.

but he does still stop in his tracks when a proper, direct stream of sunlight briefly drapes over ghost’s face one early morning during an op, just as the sun was rising. he does still have the breath stolen from his lungs when he sees that his assumptions were wrong—at least in part.

because one iris is brown—it’s deep and rich like freshly-brewed coffee, flecked with a honey gold like tiger’s eye. it’s warm in spite of ghost, and anything but dull.

the other, however, is a mellow sort of green, hazel in that dark lighting soap had grown so used to. but with the sun in ghost’s eyes, even for such a short time, reveals it to be almost forest-like, the vibrant foliage to match the sturdy trunk and roots.

together, ghost’s gaze is mesmerizing. and now knowing the truth about their colour, soap thinks he really sees it no, no matter when or where. he sees the subtle difference from afar, in the dark; the stark contrast in the light. soap thinks ghost’s eyes are beautiful. lovely.

now he just needs to figure out a way to get to admire them from up close.

[mikeystrawberry]

Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

[azullumi]

TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!

premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons

note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving

SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.

AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.

VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.

LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.

GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.

ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.

JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.

GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.

special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[death---dealer]

Noa x Human! Reader Imagines.

A/N : I am a beacon of sin. Likes and reblogs always appreciated. Thanks y'all!! I do have more Imagines if you guys are interested. Please, please let me know!!! Thanks again. Hope y'all enjoy. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the )Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human! Reader. Rating: K. ( Fluffy again, some other mentions of Ape Aggression but nothing too bad/vivid. ) ** Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Noa unequivocally staring you down. -Ultimately, how the relationship really started. Noa was definitely a lot more subtle about it in the beginning - not sure how he truly felt about you, about… it. He would sit and pass time by watching, no no… Stalking your movements, how they might have varied from how he or any other Ape would move. The way your legs shaped when you walked, the way your hands grasped at things, the way your eyes laid bare everything he needed to know. Echo’s were so easy to read from expression alone and Noa yearned for that, metaphorically reaching his hands out in some feeble attempt that you would grab. He found himself occasionally mimicking your movements to himself when alone, laughing at how utterly awkward they felt to him. He’d shut his eyes then and think about it a bit more.

-He would intensely stare into your eyes whenever you talked one on one. He kept his gaze on you when around others, but not as intense as it was when he had you all to himself. Green, amber and gold speckled eyes followed the minute details of your face, almost down to the wrinkles around your eyes, only reserved when you blessed him with a smile. Rare, but he enjoyed it none-the-less. He sensed, after doing it a few times, that it made you nervous. Your heart raced - Noa swore he could feel it in his feet and something about that made him swell with pride. He’d boost his chest out, wanting to appear more suitable to you, more appealing, more… more… irresistible if you looked at him. But… Then, you would look away quickly, uttering something under your breath to take the attention away from the tension now obviously swirling around the two of you. Noa… He kept his eyes on you, regardless. Though, now it seemed you weren’t aware he was looking so closely.

-As time went on though, and he developed a more personal relationship with you, it… Changed. Noa couldn’t tell anyone why it did, why his eyes would pierce you so deeply, almost to the point where it felt like they were taking you down, further down than you had ever been and you were drowning in golden flecks surrounded by more shades of green than you could count. It left a burning sensation in the back of your mind, almost like bile. It was noticeable, even meters away from him but you buried it deep inside. Secretly, you liked it. Not-so-secretly, Noa knew that you did. He couldn’t explain why you were always in his line of vision, why he felt the need to make his gaze known to you, known to others… Known to others, he thought to himself. At least… Known to anyone he considered a threat. It just was what it was now.

-There were some shameful stares such as the absolute disintegration of another Ape when Noa caught the two of you together during communal dinner time. Mind you, it wasn’t just yourself and this Ape, named Ale, you were also with Anaya, Soona and Noa’s mother, Dar. But, Noa couldn’t separate that anymore. There was just you. He figured you’d be okay with his friends and mother, no one would bother you, you didn't need to be protected from them. But this familiarity with an Ape outside of his inner circle…? No, no. Noa didn't move from his ponderance, looking between you and this Ape on your left side. The fire roared in front of you, obscuring Noa from your view as you explained to Ale that humans often used utensils to eat if available. Noa saw you sign through the vivid orange fire, ‘Not messy.’

Ale shrugged his shoulders and held up a berry before popping it into his mouth, ‘Easier with hands.’

That made you laugh, but the lurch of Noa towards your new friend at your reaction was… Not as funny and it took Dar to finally get him to stop staring down one of his own, intimidatingly, refusing to break eye contact. Noa’s pupils were absolutely blown away, no trace of green or gold to be found. He was broad chested, and you took note that Noa was pushing himself up to appear bigger, more fierce.

Noa signed too fast for you to understand, too abrasive… Words split themselves here and there. ‘Mine’ you got that, ‘stop’ was another, ‘back off’ maybe… but your analysis was all in vain regardless. The gaze he was giving Ale said it all, at least, it did to you, and you wondered if his friends knew the look. Soona questioned Noa silently, but he didn't bother with an answer. Anaya looked between Noa, you and Dar. And based on Dar’s reaction to it, her ability to stop it, she’d seen it before. Maybe even had it happen with Koro when they were younger. You didn't want to ask, you didn't want to pry… But, you watched in baited silence as Noa stood down and huffed at you before pacing off to the right. He had no idea what came over him, but he did what he felt like he needed.

Noticing your scent. Noa was unsure of the feral feeling that the situation gave him when he noticed it beyond just the scent of an Echo. It was yours. He had to deal with Anaya every so often saying something sarcastically about it, about how different it was and that they’d be able to smell you at least a click away, but Noa always shrugged them off.

Pensively, Noa shut his eyes. He was steadily resting back on his feet, crouching and sitting comfortably on his bent legs. Hunching forward, he grasped the ground with his hands, tangling them into the grass below him. Anaya was right. Your smell was very different from the Apes he was often around. He could point out his mother, a few infants that were following her around, Soona… Drawing a deep breath in, he felt like he was suffocating and his ribcage was expanded as far out as it would go without causing intense discomfort.

There was something different. Something almost intoxicatingly sweet. Disgustingly, Noa thought to himself and let his eyes slide open. He looked down at his hands, having now ripped grass out of the Earth. It was like he had tasted the most delectable berry of all time and now he was lingering in the smell that was left behind on his fingertips. He wanted to grab you, hard. Grab you roughly and pull you against him, never let you go, let his strength come in handy in a way that was outside of climbing. He’d consume all of you if you would allow him, he’d do more than that in fact. He’d let himself sink into you both physically and mentally, throwing away caution. Teeth sinking into fragile skin, minds entangling in a brutal dance. Your sweat pouring into his mouth, escaping onto his taste buds. Thoughts now in his mind, messing Noa up. They weren’t just his anymore, they were also yours. He was morbidly curious just how sweet you must have tasted when the smell alone left him feeling the way he was. He was deathly ill wanting to know what you were thinking.

All things made him bare his teeth for a split second, canines glistening in the setting sunlight. Tossing the grass in his hands down on the ground aggressively, Noa sat up completely, almost barrel chested before throwing his body into gear as he finally moved to pace followed by a quick saunter. He needed to find out where your scent was coming from before he unraveled at the seams.

Hand holding. -Definitely a thing you tended to gravitate towards more than Noa. He often liked to keep his hands free to tinker around if needed or to fix something, it was after all, one of his most favorite things. He knew moments when you liked it, or rather… Needed it. Noa with you would do anything to cause him a surge of pride, and that included holding your hand.

-He was cautious about it at first, not sure how to react when he felt the side of your hand against his own. He had gruffed then, avoiding eye contact and you didn't try again.

-The second happenance was accidental. You had slipped on ice, Noa faster to react than you were and he was right in front of you before you had the chance to even brace your hands in preparation of falling. Swallowing softly at the sudden closeness of him, there was obvious heat that rose in you. “T-Thanks.”

Noa’s shoulders shifted as he helped you stand straight up again, your eyes coming to rest on his shoulders as Noa was just a touch taller than you were. Just a bit taller, but given circumstances, he was very strong. “Very… unbalanced.” He said to you in a deeper voice than he intended.

You nodded in agreement, looking down at your feet and then the trail that Noa wanted to take. It appeared icy regardless, and you were mentally preparing yourself to transverse. “Maybe we should have taken a horse.”

He sighed, the movement very apparent to your gaze as you looked over at him. Without a word, Noa held his right hand out. There was suddenly a lump in your throat. Was he…

“Take.” Noa uttered.

You hesitated, clenching your hands to the point where your fingers were slightly whitened.

“You don’t take, you end up on your---”

It was your turn to be faster than light, heart thundering in your chest wildly at the concept of what he was offering to you. You raised your right hand and grasped at his, almost clapping them together from the velocity you put forward. It was just a cupped hand holding, something you knew he would be semi-comfortable with as there was no strict intimacy. He rounded on his feet, much more balanced than you could ever be and began moving forward once again, careful of where he put his gait and hoped that you were smart enough to follow his exact footsteps. You let him move, your arm out-stretched awkwardly as you hadn’t moved in tandem with him. You needed to move, you mumbled inside of your head. You need to move.

You were frozen. And it only took Noa one more step before he tumbled down, ultimately being brought down by your inability to take any more action. You had pulled him down, by default. Your mouth flew open as he laid flat on his back, hands disconnecting at the fact that he had fallen. “Noa---”

He groaned finally, having taken a second to process what happened. “I gave you my hand to help you and you--”

“I’m so sorry.” There was a small touch of a laugh behind your words as Noa just… Rested. He didn't move aside from putting his hands on his chest, flat palmed almost like he was checking for any damage. The fall itself wasn’t bad, but there was ice speckled all over the ground and he couldn’t tell if he fell on any sharp objects. “Here.” You reciprocated the movement Noa had previously given, holding out your hand to help him up.

‘No.’ He signed at you, eyes squirting to gaze up at you due to the sun now angling right at the two of you.

“Noa---”

He shut his eyes and raised his hand, to the left and then to the right as his fingers grazed yours ever so gently. He allowed you to cup his hand. Admittedly, you were unsure if you were able to lift him on your own, and he must have known that. He must have…

“Shit!” You yelled, being tugged down by Noa. It was obvious he didn't use all his strength to do so, just enough to get you on the ground right next to him. It wasn’t a hard fall like his either, you landed relatively gently next to him but still felt like the air had left your lungs, “Ow.”

“Ow.” He said as well, allowing a moment to look at you next to him. The way your hair splayed out on the icy rock, the slight blush of your face. Noa figured that was from the cold, you had no fur to keep you at least sheltered from the winter winds. The last thing to process for both of you were your hands, now deeply entangled within each other. You could feel the sensation of leather, that must have been how his skin really felt… It was enticing, and you wanted nothing more than to trace the palms of his hands with your delicate hands. There was fur encasing his knuckles, thicker this time of year than it was during the late spring and peak summer… Actually, Noa’s hand almost eclipsed yours completely but you weren’t going to complain as you let your eyes fall shut. You’d get up in a few minutes despite your mind telling you over and over to stay.