#beyond word or measure
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aethernoise · 1 year ago
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Trying a new update linking format/strategy to please the ale gore rhythm gods. You can also use this link to go right to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41086272/chapters/121512856
Happy reading!
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alwayscaskett810 · 1 year ago
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ukulelegodparent · 9 months ago
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Taking the train is so fucking great! I've barely been on it for 30min and I've already seen a bunch of geese and deer and a heron!
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murdermeadow · 9 days ago
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in brief, I'm so upset. I wish people understood. Jinx and Vi mean so much to me, I feel I know them and am intertwined with them at a personal level. they are my world because no other media has captured such deep and relatable siblinghood like this before. they are intrinsically intertwined and no one seems to understand that they never, ever, truly hated each other at their cores. all they want is the best for each other. but that feeling is shrouded in hatred by the actions the other took to survive, and do what they thought they could do help. Vi wanted to believe that her sister was dead because she couldn't accept the reality that her absence is what caused the sister she loved so much to spiral completely out of control. Jinx wanted to believe that her sister had completely abandoned her and wasn't worth reaching out towards, because if she haphazardly cauterized the wound then she'd never have to deal with it again. but the thing is that they can never get out of each other's minds, and lives. Vi is her protector, that is what she vowed. Jinx wants to do the same for her, but can never find just the right way. they are bound, forever. nothing and no one could truly tear them apart, no matter how awful things become. their hearts are magnetized, always drawn to the other, knowing that is where they belong. sisters until the end.
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superlc529 · 23 hours ago
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Last week, George Rexstrew and Jayden Revri did joint Cameos - us fans dubbed them "Gameoden." (It's just their names and Cameo combined). I'm woefully technologically inept so I don't know how to share the videos themselves on here, but I thought I'd share the screencaps I made from my 2 Gameodens and the links to where you can find the original posts on Instagram and Twitter as well as the direct links to Cameo. 💙❤️ Below, you'll see a little excerpt from my IG posts for them/re-wording to reflect the actual dates I received them. 💙❤️ ---- The top 2 screenshots are from my first Gameoden - The boys had perfect timing. I got the notification my Cameo from them was ready just before I left for work. 🥰 (I received it on 11/19/24 in the morning). There was even a surprise (and a very welcome) appearance from Raffy! ❤️ It truly made my day. Thank you for the very wise words, Jayden and George. I'll truly take them to heart. ✨ Two Tauruses and a Gemini unite! 💙❤️ Love you both so damn much! ✨ *Link to my IG post [x] *Link to my Tweets [x] *Link to my first G&J Cameo [x] ---- The bottom 2 screenshots are from my second Gameoden. I decided to splurge and treat myself to a second one. 💙❤️ I received it on the last day of their Cameo week (11/21/24). The boys are across the pond and so I had the pleasure of waking up on Thursday to a new video from these two incredible human beings again, right before work. ✨ I loved their answers to my questions. 🥰 "The Case of the Flying Bread Bin" - Jayden, that really does sound like quite a supernatural experience. Definite shoutout to the PHENOMENAL Amanda Tapping! 😎 I'm so glad she won a directing award recently. Hope your reunion with Ruthie is wonderful, boys! ❤️ Thank you two again a million times over for doing all these Cameos for the DBD Family! 🥹 I hope you two get some much-needed & well-deserved rest. Love you both beyond words. 💙❤️💀💀 *Link to my IG post [x] *Link to my Tweets [x] *Link to my 2nd G&J Cameo [x]
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philhoffman · 4 months ago
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I was wondering if you may have any Phil quotes/sayings be it from movies, interviews, etc, that he would might say to someone who needs a cheering up? I know it's a bit specific and niche but my mental states been ran through the ground and I wanna draw myself something comforting with his words. If nothing comes to mind, then you don't have to answer this :)
Oh I totally get it, I have a big list of all my favorite quotes from Phil and I go through them frequently when I need a pick-me-up haha!
There are probably several from his movies but these are all from Phil himself, speaking as himself in interviews and such lol. He was not the most *concise* man so they can get a little rambling 😅 but he's got the spirit! I hope you feel better and that these words help, they've always helped me:
"When you’re [young]... man, it’s just you. It’s just you and your body works so well. And you haven’t done anything and nobody knows who you are and it’s just a clean slate. You’re running out there and going ‘How the hell can I make my mark? What am I gonna do?’ And you can’t lose! I mean, you think at that time, ‘I can lose,’ but you really can’t. And try to tell people that young, it’s like it’s not gonna matter. Make the mistake, who cares? You know what I mean? Be bad, go do that thing, it doesn’t matter." (My favorite.)
"Sometimes I’ll set things up for myself that I don’t know if I’ll be able to achieve... Because all of a sudden you’re in a crisis moment. There’s gonna be a lot that you’re gonna have to do to come through with it, and you’re gonna have to have the will to actually fail and look like an ass and probably be bad and all these things in front of people. You’re gonna have to actually do that in order to be good. You’re gonna actually have to go in and start failing and start risking and start humiliating yourself sometimes right there in front of people in order to get to the good stuff."
"Creating anything is hard. It’s a cliché thing to say, but every time you start a job, you just don’t know anything. I mean, I can break something down, but ultimately I don’t know anything when I start work on a new movie. You start stabbing out, and you make a mistake, and it’s not right, and then you try again and again. The key is you have to commit. And that’s hard because you have to find what it is you are committing to."
"I gotta remember to not kill myself, not beat myself up, not get too worked up about it... I was more moody, more mercurial [when I started acting]... Yes, there's that thing with being younger. You think it's all or nothing. You think all your eggs are in one basket when you're young. You're gambling. Whereas when you're older you realize you can reinvent; you think, this feeling I have is going to pass. You know what I mean? This isn't everything, there will be another film, there will be another relationship, or I'll die and then I'll be dead. But if I'm alive I know life is going to keep throwing things at me."
"You do have to let it go. You do have to move on to the next thing. You have to find passion in some other place and you have to fall in love with something else. And that always takes falling out of love in some way with whatever it was before. I guess I’ll find that out, what that means."
"To be loved, I think, is like the thing that gets you up in the morning." ❤️
"If you say ‘yes,’ to someone, ‘I will,’ that you are also saying, ‘I will be hurt by you.’ Because you can’t have relationships if you’re not willing to be disappointed and hurt by that person. It’s almost impossible. You have to be able to enter into the world and realize that the richness of life is all the good and joy and thrill of it, but also all the disappointment, hurt, and heartache of it. And that all of that is what’s great."
"[Making art is] very fulfilling and challenging and maddening. Sometimes you can never get it right and usually you don’t, and you realize how art and life are very similar, ultimately. They really are. They don’t really end, and they don’t really answer themselves… the good stuff, you know? And how maddening that is because as a person you want so badly to control something or understand something or end something, and you realize, ‘But life doesn’t really do that.’ The good art doesn’t really either. It’s a tough thing."
"If you’re challenging yourself in the way you should, there’s always a doubt about if you’re going to be able to pull it off. That’s everybody’s dilemma, not just actors… The more you expect of yourself, the harder it is, and the more concentrated and focused you’ll be able to get."
"Do I take the path of least resistance? You know in therapy, you always get to the point of like, when am I finished? And it's not finished with therapy, it's like—alllll this crap, when is it over? This thing of like, when do you get it? ... And it's like no! That never happens! You just die! You just fuckin' die. And so that road to death—the road to death we call life—can be just burgers and booze and women and smokes and TV and magazines and really bad art—and you can just go and slide right into the hole. Or you can go, well, I think I better keep confronting and keep challenging and keep trying to make good stuff and working hard. That's what you do because if you don't do that, it's so easy to go to that other place."
"Isn't it worth grieving? Isn't it worth destroying yourself in order to move on? Isn't it worth going through whatever you need to go through in order to move on? Isn't it worth it loving somebody even if this might happen to you? Just a communal understanding that love is worth it; grieving love is also worth it and that it might be this interesting, this colorful, or this odd."
"I don’t think that there’s anyone on the planet that, if looked at closely enough, is worthy of being judged in a way that it would be... not good. And everybody on the planet, if looked at closely enough, is worthy of being loved with the most love that you could ever give."
I also like to listen to him read this poem, one of my favorites by Robert Frost <3
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nerajaana · 2 years ago
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ARYA STARK VALENTINE’S DAY CHALLENGE
|| Day Three: Headcanon ||
306 A.C- Prince Aegon, son of the disinherited Hand of the King Rhaegar chose to marry not his sister but his half brother Jon Waters and his lady cousin, the she wolf of Winterfell, Arya Stark who’s said to resemble her aunt Lyanna Stark to an uncanny degree leaving the Seven Kingdoms shocked beyond measure.
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dirt-str1der · 1 year ago
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Thinking nonstop and reflecting on my past and the people i have talked with whom i now hate. Badly
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questions-answered-by-god · 10 months ago
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𝐐: 𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐬?
𝐀: "O churches of arrogance, how shall I gather you when you resist all correction and follow after the vain babblings of men in authority, heaping to yourselves teachers, wolves in sheep’s clothing, saying the Word of God is the way to riches and material things?!
Woe, I say to you who follow these acolytes of satan! False teachers! Soothsayers! Desolations are coming and great want! How then shall all these silver coins and paper, houses made of brick and wood, save you?! The riches of men shall be taken from them in a day! What then shall you stand upon, O men of vanities and vain deceits? Where shall you hide?!" Says The Lord
Excerpt From: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/To_the_Nation_Once_Called_of_Itself_%E2%80%9CUnder_God%E2%80%9D
“…There is indeed profit in it, according to the wealth of grace and salvation which abounds in love, granting an abundance of eternal wealth, which is life in My presence and My joy forevermore, for all those who receive My Word and also walk in it.”
Excerpt From: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/Thus_Says_The_Lord_to_the_Churches_of_Men,_and_to_All_Their_Self-Appointed_Apostles,_Prophets_and_Preachers
⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌⚌
𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬:
God Speaks About Materialism: http://tinyurl.com/3f4dcyw9
Regarding Prophets (False) http://tinyurl.com/2z3syhjr
Regarding the Churches of Men: http://tinyurl.com/mr3u7ea2
Regarding the Gathering Up ("Rapture") https://tinyurl.com/2p8u4n3k
Regarding the Day of The Lord: https://tinyurl.com/2p96xt7j
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pokkop15 · 8 months ago
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Also let's go into the potato chip angle too actually. Bruce has spent an enormous deal of his life picking himself to pieces, delving into his psyche so that he can know himself better than his enemies— so he can know his foes even half as well. So why does it feel so strange to those who doubt his reasoning that killing might not become a potato chip for him? That this boy who turned his rage and despair at his childhood tragedy into extreme control issues and crime fighting— that that boy would hold within himself a fear of the fact that if he ever did cross that line he would never look back? That his read on himself that is Unwavering Code of No Killing WAS the only thing keeping him from breaking— from being EXACTLY like The Joker.
Because maybe it's not a potato chip. Maybe it's an opioid that gnaws at his mind since the first time he held a life in his hands and no one to stop him from ending it on a whim. A shortcut he knows would alleviate his pain and that he would not have the strength to stop taking at every opportunity— Killing and killing and killing until the high is more important than the motive. Because Bruce knows all about the suffering that is addiction. Both first hand and through the eyes of the people in the city he loves.
and I want to be clear that I don't make this comparison as a demonization of addiction or opioid use; prescribed or otherwise. I make it as someone who has that gnawing at the back of my mind. That trusts their gut when it says not to touch something because if I do I'll let it consume me. Addiction is initially a product of tragedy and unmet needs yes, but afterwards it's just there— gnawing at the back of your mind.
It Is There.
Even when you've built yourself a life you're happy in, with people who care about and for you. It Gnaws At The Back Of Your Mind.
It Gnaws At The Back Of His Too.
Batman is not a good man because it comes naturally to him. Bruce Wayne is a good man because he has spent his every waking moment since he saw the reflections of his enemies in himself forging himself into a good man like the ones he saw in his role models— like the one he wished could've been there in that alleyway…
I hate Bruce's "I don't kill because once I start, I wouldn't be able to stop"
Like I simply do not buy it. Murder is not a potato chip Bruce. I think he is full of shit and a messy bitch who lives for the drama. I am certain Bruce has some kind of valid reason for not killing, but I don't believe that this is it.
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whisperstemptations · 3 months ago
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continued . . . with NATHAN && SANSA ! alongside . . . @reignofthrones !!
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🕰️ —— Had he planned such a thing? No. Definitely not. He was only to accompany his brother as he secured a betrothal with the Norther Queen. Something that was expected of Charles, the true heir of his house. The legitimate one that Nathan was...most definitely not. Yet it was not something Charles wanted, always the rebellious one, which would amuse Nathan if it weren't so...unfair. Living in their household as the bastard he was... He was quite used to not being seen for the man he was — the person he was.
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But she saw him.
The Queen of the North. The Queen of beauty. Surrounded by cold and yet holding such a fire in her, he could not help but be drawn toward her. Twas a dangerous game, and yet...
This was not their first tryst together, far from it, becoming quite adept at sneaking into her chambers late at night, and into her bed. Quickly becoming his most happiest place, stark naked, within the furs and gladly between her legs. Tasting her to her depths, moaning as his cock throbbed, the ache to be inside her mounting as her pleasure by his tongue seemed to. A small moan rumbled within his throat as tongue flicked against her clit, hands helping steady her hips, keep her legs spread.... He wondered if she knew how sweet she tasted? How addicting it was? Her moans made his heart feel light and only encouraged him to taste her deeper, practiced tongue slipping inside her folds, tasting her even more.
God, what a feast she was. Slipping his tongue in and out of her, rough, skilled fingers giving wanton attention to her clit, rubbing against it without abandoned. Feeling her hips move against his tongue, essentially fucking herself against it brought a growl from his throat, his tongue leaving her, only to be replaced by his two fingers, sliding within her depths as tongue dragged along her folds and flicked against her clit once more, heavy hot breath upon it.
My love...
"Mmm...." His fingers sliding in and out of her deeper at that, curling, reaching the spot that he often saw made her thighs quiver and drive her close to the edge. Hearing how her sweet cunt drenched his fingers so, it could not be long, though they would be far from done for the night. "Let go...my love. My heart... My own...sweet...taste of paradise..."
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aethernoise · 2 years ago
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here to gratuitously sow the seeds of hype: I have a chapter update coming very soon
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dreadbornesaint · 7 months ago
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General (1/2)
#❝ ye who glimpsed the end from cataclysm’s cradle. ❞—✦ ooc#❝ somniloquy from beyond the veil‚ revelation of yet another will. ❞—✦ ooc replies#❝ this world and the next are unchanging‚ blighted and sacrosanct in equal measure. ❞—✦ queue#❝ another letter amongst scattered parchment‚ a wax seal left unbroken beneath the sands. ❞—✦ ooc answered#❝ the divine came to devour and found itself conquered instead. ❞—✦ open starter#❝ an eternity of boredom and unbroken sorrows‚ suspended by the languid reverie of pleasant pastime. ❞—✦ meme#❝ the words fall as gentle rains do‚ vanishing with the sweeping roll of thunder. ❞—✦ psa#❝ the sands continue to sing your name even as the tide of time treads elseward. ❞—✦ promo#❝ ye will blaspheme my name‚ embrace heresy and false divine‚ a saint of sacrilege ye have made. ❞—✦ self promo#❝ hark‚ ye‚ and come forth receive this dictation of the divine and be dictated in turn. ❞—✦ starter call#❝ hie to thee sacred ruins yet unbidden‚ the origin of myths yet unwritten. ❞—✦ plotting call#❝ how many saints did they slay‚ all in the name of a counterfeit salvation. ❞—✦ long post#❝ a longing without a name‚ a wish yearning endlessly to be fulfilled. ❞—✦ wishlist#❝ ye lost lamb seeking a shepherd‚ yet your pastures have already putrefied. ❞—✦ anonymous#❝ like a mirage‚ appearing for just a heartbeat‚ then devoured in the next breath. ❞—✦ to be deleted#❝ relic of a world unseen and unknown‚ bewildering and wondrous and ever treasured. ❞—✦ saved
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lovecuprite · 10 days ago
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Ft. Ayato ノ Alhaitham ノ Wanderer ノ Childe ノ Wriothesley ノ Neuvillette
sum: things you do that unintentionally turn them on. wc: 14k - roughly 2k - 2.5k per part
contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in alhaitham's), oral (reader givingノreceiving), fingering, come swallowing, handjob in wrio's, mentions of pregnancy/breeding kink in ayato's, out in the open for wanderer's but not caught, 69 in neuvillette's + he carries you
a/n: i liked this until i didn't, which is awkward :')
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જ⁀ when he loses to you in a debate - 2k
It felt like the hundredth time that day you’d torn his argument to pieces, your words sharp and precisely calculated. Alhaitham leaned back, eyeing you with a narrowed gaze as he re-evaluated every point you made, searching desperately for a flaw. But there wasn’t one—and that infuriated him.
He was accustomed to being the sharpest mind in the room, to dissecting others’ logic with ease. Yet here you were, dismantling his points without breaking a sweat, meeting him step for step. It should have annoyed him beyond measure. And yet…
His pulse quickened, and he could feel his focus drifting, thoughts derailing as you delivered yet another rebuttal with a slight, victorious curl of your lips. There was a fire in your eyes, a self-assurance that both irritated and exhilarated him, pulling him into an awareness that had little to do with intellectual sparring.
He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, from the determined glint in your eyes to the way your lips formed around each sharp, defiant word. His jaw clenched, and he felt that familiar frustration morph into something else, something darker, something primal.
“Nothing to say?” you prodded with a smug smile, savouring your apparent win. “That’s not like you, Alhaitham.”
His eyes darkened. For a second, the composed mask slipped, and the heat simmering beneath flickered to the surface. “I could argue,” he replied, his voice low, dangerously calm. “But it seems you’re enjoying this far too much.”
The bitterness in his voice was laced with something else, something unwilling—an almost grudging respect. You’d pushed him to the edge, stripped him of his usual control, and a part of him both resented and admired your nerve. But there was no denying it: you were driving him insane.
A charged silence hung between you, and he felt it—the heat radiating from your body, the steady rhythm of your breath, so close he could feel it. His own thoughts had scattered, leaving him with nothing but the ache of desire he was no longer able to ignore. Alhaitham stood taller, his expression hardening as his gaze settled on your lips, then drifted back to meet your eyes.
“You’re insufferable,” he murmured, his voice roughened by tension. But the bite was gone from his tone, replaced by something unspoken, something magnetic.
Suddenly, he moved, his body pressing you back against the bookshelf, his hands bracketing you, and every other word disappeared from his mind. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper in your ear. “You think you’re so clever,” he said, his fingers tracing along your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, “always knowing just what to say to get under my skin.”
You felt his other hand slide down, coming to rest on your hip as he drew you closer. Every inch of his lean frame was now flush against you, his erection pressing insistently through the layers between you. The last of his restraint was slipping, replaced by a raw intensity that left no space for pretences.
His lips grazed along your neck, each touch sending a shudder of heat through you as his breath came hot and uneven while he slipped a hand under your shirt, fingers trailing possessively over skin that was bare. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he whispered, his voice low and inviting against your neck. “Pushing me, daring me. Now, let’s see just how far you can go.”
In a single, bruising kiss, he claimed your mouth, his hands now exploring the lines and curves of your body with a feverish hunger, mapping out every reaction he’d managed to draw from you. His kiss was fierce and commanding, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he tasted every inch of you, unravelling the last threads of your composure.
With one swift movement, he spun you around, pressing your front against the bookshelf. A few books tumbled from the shelves, forgotten in the heat building between you as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against your shoulder, his voice low and dark. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered, rough with need, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt, fingertips trailing against your skin. “All this time, getting under my skin… has it been driving you mad, too?”
Alhaitham’s hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers brushing against the warmth radiating through the thin damp fabric of your underwear. A quiet groan escapes him, a sound rough with desire, as he felt your wetness, his own anticipation building with every heartbeat.
"You're so fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. His fingers slip under the fabric, sliding through your slick folds. "All this time, you've been getting off on our arguments, haven't you? Getting yourself all worked up, imagining me bending you over and fucking you in my office."
He circles your clit with his thumb, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he works you over with his skilled fingers.
"I bet you've touched yourself thinking about me," he continues, his words filthy and raw. "Imagined my cock splitting you open, making you moan my name.”
“Shut up, you talk too much-” you mumble.
Alhaitham chuckles darkly at your mumbled plea, his fingers still working between your legs. "No no-. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me how much you need my cock."
He thrusts two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes your knees weak. His thumb rubs tight circles around your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.
"Come on, angel. Use that clever tongue of yours for something other than arguing with me. Beg for it."
His other hand slides up under your shirt, roughly palming one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple, a gasp falling from your lips.
"Or maybe you'd rather I stop altogether? Leave you here, dripping and desperate, with nothing to satisfy you but your own fingers?"
He slows his movements, letting the threat hang in the air. Your hips buck back against him, seeking more friction, more pressure. You're so close, and yet he holds all the power to send you over.
"What's it gonna be, sweetheart? You gonna be a good girl and tell me what you want?”
"Please, need it-"
Alhaitham's fingers still inside you at your breathy plea, your desperate words sending a thrill through him. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks, "There we go.”
He pulls his fingers out slowly, teasingly. You whimper at the loss, your hips pushing back, seeking to be filled again.
"Ah ah," he tuts, his hand resting on your ass. "Patience. You'll get what you need.”
He steps back, leaving you bent over the bookshelf and aching for him. He undoes his belt, along with the zipper. He approaches his desk drawer, rummaging through before he settles back behind you. You hear the crinkle of foil, the snap of latex, and then the head of his cock teasing your entrance.
Alhaitham runs it along your slit, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. He drags the tip through your folds, covering himself in your sticky arousal.
"Look at you, wanting it so badly," he taunts, his voice a low growl.
He pushes forward, just the tip breaching you, stretching you open. Your walls flutter around him, trying to draw him in deeper.
"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He chuckles darkly, slowly sinking into your heat inch by excruciating inch.
He bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, savouring the feel of your tight walls clenching around him.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips.
He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and purposeful. He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes.
"That's it-" he encourages, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock like the good girl you are."
His hand snakes around to your front, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
Alhaitham sets a deep, punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with each thrust. The bookcase rocks under the force of his movements; books tumble to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
He leans over you, a hand closing on your hip as his cock drives into you relentlessly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes your toes curl.
He picks up the pace, fucking into you harder and faster now, chasing his own release. Skin slapping against skin fills the room with an obscene sound, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.
He buries his face in your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he pounds into you, lost in the feeling of your hot, wet walls clenching around him.
His fingers closed tight around your hips, pinning you down as he thrust with a fervour that made you cling to the bookshelf. “Fuck, I’m close-" he groaned, his voice thick with restraint. And just when you thought he’d let go, he pulled away, leaving you empty and aching, the heat between you simmering in the air. 
Before you could protest, he spun you around, lifting you onto the edge of his desk. He pushes your legs apart, settling between your thighs once more.
"Wanna’ see your face," he growls, his voice rough with desire.
He lines himself up, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. Then, with one swift thrust, he's buried inside you again, filling you completely.
He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with wild abandon. The desk creaked beneath you with each powerful thrust, papers slipping off in a messy cascade to the floor.
He pressed into you, his weight grounding you in place as his lips found yours in a fierce, consuming kiss that left you breathless. When he finally broke away, his mouth traced a heated path down your neck, lips and teeth grazing over your skin, each touch both a promise and a tease. His hips never stop moving, pounding into you with a frenzied energy.
"Come for me," he demands, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. "I want to feel you come apart on my cock."
He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs in tight, fast circles, the added stimulation sending you spiralling towards the edge.
Your walls start to flutter, Your breaths are fast and uneven, your body trembling, teetering just on the edge. “Come on,” he murmured, his movements growing less controlled, more desperate, as he felt his own resolve slipping. “Let go… let me feel you.”
With a final, brutal thrust, he sends you flying over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure washing through your body. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out the aftershocks.
Alhaitham follows shortly after, his cock pulsing inside you as he finds his own release. He buries his face in your neck, muffling his groan against your skin.
You both collapse onto the desk, panting and spent, bodies still joined in the aftermath of your passionate encounter.
"Maybe we should have debates more often...." you joke breathlessly.
"Only if it ends like this." he mutters tirelessly as he leans in, his lips meeting yours.
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જ⁀ when you argue with him - 2.5k
“Do you ever think before you act?” you snapped, standing so close to Childe that the heat radiating from him matched your own.
His jaw tightened, and he leaned in, voice rising to meet yours. “Don’t lecture me about thinking ahead! If you’d just trusted me for once, we wouldn’t even need a backup plan!”
“Trust you?” You let out a harsh, bitter laugh, meeting his glare without flinching. “How am I supposed to trust you when you treat this like some game? People could have gotten hurt, Childe! This isn’t just your reckless thrill.”
He scoffed, but something in his eyes softened, though it was quickly swallowed by the intensity burning there. "You think I take this lightly? It’s so damn frustrating to have you question every move I make."
You took another step closer, your heart beating faster as the air between you grew heavier, alive with unspoken tension. "I question your moves because they're reckless, Childe. Because you act like you're the only one who matters!
"That's what you think?" he growled, his voice was low and furious. "That I don't care what happens to the people around me?"
For a moment, there was something raw in his eyes—open and wounded—but you pushed the feeling aside, refusing to let him derail you. "You say you care, but you're so caught up in your ego that you can't see past your own reflection.".
"Ego?" He snorted, but his eyes were wild, almost electric, and he leaned in closer to you, the space between you evaporating. "You're one to talk! Acting like you know everything, like I can't do a single thing out there without you hovering over my shoulder."
“Because I have to! If I don’t, you’d—” Your voice wavered as you became acutely aware of just how close he was, his face inches from yours. His eyes flickered down to your lips, lingering for the faintest beat before they snapped back to meet yours.
And that’s when it struck you—his cheeks were flushed, his gaze burning with something more than just anger. The tension between you wasn’t just frustration; there was a heat simmering beneath it all, sparking like a fuse, and you could feel it as clearly as the breath between you.
This wasn’t just anger. The challenge, the fight, you standing toe-to-toe with him—it had him caught up in something else entirely.
You sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily thrown. “Are… are you enjoying this?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, incredulous.
Childe didn't even try to hide it; his eyes softened, and a smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his voice low and charged. "Maybe I am," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Didn't think you had this much fire in you.".
You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks. “This isn’t funny, Childe. I’m trying to get through to you, and you’re—”
“Oh, I’m listening,” he cut in, his voice dropping even lower, rougher. “But I can’t help it if seeing you like this… gets me a little fired up.” His eyes gleamed with a challenging spark, as if daring you to push him further, to keep pushing back.
Your breath caught, but you refused to back down, even as you felt the air between you grow thick with an intensity that was no longer just anger. “You’re… unbelievable,” you managed, your voice wavering slightly.
Childe’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours as he took that final, daring step closer. His hand found your jaw, fingers brushing your skin with a touch that was both gentle and possessive. For a heartbeat, the only sound between you was your own uneven breathing as his gaze flicked once more to your lips, lingering there.
“I’m unbelievable, am I?” he murmured, voice barely a breath, but carrying enough intensity to make your pulse race even faster.
"I-"
Before you could respond, his lips met yours with a raw intensity that sent a jolt through you. The kiss was anything but restrained—urgent, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and was finally letting go. His fingers tightened around your jaw, his other hand slipping to your waist to pull you in close, eliminating any trace of space between you.
You matched his intensity, pressing back just as fiercely, your hands finding his shoulders and gripping tight as you poured every ounce of pent-up frustration, tension, and maybe something more into the kiss. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into nothing as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that left you breathless.
Childe groaned low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. He broke away from your mouth just long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "You drive me crazy," he growled against your throat, his voice rough with need. "Always questioning me, always pushing back. It's fucking hot."
His hands glide along your sides, lifting your shirt in one fluid motion and discarding it as his eyes roamed over you, dark with desire. He paused just briefly, letting the sight of you linger, before his mouth found you again, tracing the curves of your chest with lips and tongue, his fingers deftly working to free you from your bra.
You arched into his touch, head falling back as pleasure sparked through you. Your own hands worked frantically at his clothes, desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Ajax," you gasped out, your voice breathy and wanton. "Please..."
He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Please what?" he murmured, nipping at your collarbone. "I wanna hear you say it."
You swallowed hard, your mind hazy with desire. "I want you," you managed, your voice trembling. "I want you to fuck me, please-”
He captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid down to grip your ass, pulling you harder against his already hard cock. You could feel the heat of him even through the layers of clothing that still separated you.
"I need you," Childe rasped against your lips, his hips rolling against yours in a slow grind. "Right fucking now."
He guided you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed, the heated kiss unbroken. He slid down on top of you in one fluid motion, pressing you down onto the bed as he moved with you, pinning you under him, his eyes dark and intense as he took you in. His chest rose and fell with a few heavy breaths as he steadied himself.
"This is your last chance to back out," he whispered, his voice low and rough-edged. "Because once I start, I won't stop until I've had every bit of you."
Your eyes met his, soft and misty with anticipation as the unspoken answer hung in the charged space between you.
"I don't want you to stop," you breathed, reaching up to pull him down into another kiss. "I want everything you've got-"
With a feral growl, his hands made quick work of the remaining barriers between you. Childe's fingers hooked into your waistband and yanked your trousers and panties down in one swift motion. His eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of you, splayed out beneath him, completely bare. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, his voice rough with desire.
He settled between your thighs, the heat of his bare skin against your most sensitive parts making you gasp. His fingers trailed teasingly along your inner thighs, brushing maddeningly close to where you needed him most.
"Please," you whimpered, arching your hips in search of more friction. "Ajax, I need-"
“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a finger softly over your lips. "Just relax… let me take care of you." His voice was just a lulling hum, low and comforting.
He lowered his head and traced a slow, tantalising path up your inner thigh with his tongue, each inch a deliberate tease. A shiver coursed through you, your fingers clutching the sheets as he inched closer to your core, building anticipation with every lingering touch.
When his tongue finally ran along your slit, you cried out, your back bowing off the bed. His tongue swirled around your clit, lapping at you with a hunger that bordered on feral. Two fingers pushed inside you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way.
"That's it, let me hear you," Childe growled against your skin, his words sending vibrations straight to your core. "Fuck, you taste so good. I could eat this sweet little pussy all day."
He worked you relentlessly, his fingers curling inside you just right, his tongue flicking mercilessly over your clit. It wasn’t long before you were teetering on the edge, thighs trembling around him as your fingers tangled desperately in his hair.
His mouth moved over you with a hungry intensity, each slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue sending sparks racing through you, making your hips roll instinctively to meet his every movement.
Your arousal slicked his lips and chin as he held you close, his fingers working in tandem, pressing into you and curling just right to reach that deep, electric spot that made you lose all sense of restraint. The pleasure built steadily, his every touch pushing you closer to the point of no return, your entire body drawn taut in anticipation.
The obscene sounds of his mouth on your pussy, the squelch of his fingers inside you, the filthy slurps and moans he made as he ate you out - it was almost too much to bear.
He groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you buck and writhe beneath him. His free hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, pinning you in place as he kept up his relentless assault on your clit.
Your thighs were shaking violently as your muscles tensed and coiled tight with your approaching orgasm. Childe sensed it too, doubling his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit as he finger-fucked you harder, faster.
"Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against your soaked folds. "Let me feel you come undone on my tongue. Fucking soak me, baby.”
With a hoarse cry, you shattered, your body convulsing as wave upon wave of searing pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers, your arousal slick on his chin, dripping down onto the sheets beneath him.
Childe groaned low in his throat, lapping at your release as if it were the finest ambrosia, wringing the last drop of pleasure from your body until you lay still beneath him.
He slowly pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He licked his lips, savouring your taste with a satisfied hum. “Tastes so fucking sweet.”
He crawled up your body, settling between your thighs once more. You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, making you clench with anticipation.
"I need to be inside you," Childe growled, his voice strained with need. "Need to feel this tight little cunt squeezing my cock."
He reached down, gripping himself and rubbing the swollen head of his cock through your slick folds. You whimpered, your hips canting up, trying to force him inside.
"Please," you begged, your voice wrecked and desperate. "Ajax, I need you. Need you so fucking bad."
With a low groan, he pushed forward, sinking into your wet heat inch by inch. You both moaned at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Childe panted, his hips rolling in shallow thrusts as he let you adjust to him. "Feels so good, baby. So fucking good."
Once you'd both adjusted, he started to move, pulling out slowly before snapping his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you. He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with a force that made the bed creak and your body jolt with each powerful thrust.
Childe's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your legs up and back towards your chest, folding you nearly in half. The new angle allowed him to sink even deeper inside you, hitting spots you didn't even know existed.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a brutal pace. "Take it, baby. Take every fucking inch of my cock."
You could do no more than moan incoherently, hands scrabbling at the sheets. The feeling of him so deep inside you, stretching you, filling you, was almost too much to bear.
"You like that, don't you?" Childe panted, strained with exertion.
"Like having me so fucking deep inside you." He punctuated each filthy word with a sharp snap of his hips, driving into you so hard that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Your eyes rolled back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as another orgasm crashed over you, your walls clamping down around him like a vice.
"Shit, baby," Childe growled, his rhythm faltering as he fought to hold back his own release. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. Gonna- gonna make me cum if you keep doing that."
But you were too far gone to care, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure consuming you. All you could do was hold on for dear life as Childe fucked you through your orgasm, his cock hitting your deepest spots with every thrust, pushing you higher and higher until you were sure you'd black out from the intensity of it all.
Childe's thrusts grew erratic, his fingers digging into your ankles as he chased his own release.
His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside you as he found his peak. You felt the hot rush of his cum painting your walls, claiming you from the inside out. 
A low, shuddering groan escaped him as the intensity of his release rippled through his body. And for a long, quiet moment, neither of you moved, basking in the dying warmth and soft haze of satisfaction.
The weight of Childe pressed against you as he lowered your legs back down. His warm breath on your shoulder as he stayed inside of you. He slowly lifted his head, eyes locked with yours. For that one moment, there was something soft in his eyes—something almost tender—the softness he mostly protected.
"You're amazing, you know that?" he muttered, his voice low and warm.
A smile played at your lips as you looked up at him, quiet happiness filling your eyes. "Not too bad yourself," you teased, reaching up to rest your hand against his cheek, your thumb tracing a light path along his jawline. "For a reckless, ego-driven, pain in the ass."
Childe laughed, leaning into your touch with a shameless grin. "I think you meant to say charming, irresistible, and exceptionally skilled in bed," he corrected, a roguish glint firing in his eyes.
"Yeah, maybe that too," you whispered, pulling him into a soft, dragged-out kiss, basking in the wordless connection that ran between you.
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જ⁀ seeing you do domestic things - 2.4k
Ayato leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, his eyes focused on you as you worked. The soft light of the afternoon filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on the scene in front of him. You were humming quietly to yourself as you stirred the pot on the hob, moving with a quiet grace that Ayato could only admire.
It wasn’t just the domesticity of the moment that caught his attention—it was the way you made it look so effortless, the way you fit so naturally into his life, his home. You were already making the space feel like it was your joint space, your presence breathing life into the place, and Ayato found himself growing more and more captivated by the thought of this becoming a permanent reality.
You glanced up, catching him watching you, and a teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you going to help?"
Ayato stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’d rather just watch you, honestly,” he said smoothly, his voice thick with desire. “It’s hard to look away when you make something as simple as cooking look so… irresistible.”
You laughed lightly, but his eyes stayed locked on you, the intensity of his gaze deepening with each passing second. You continued with your work, though something about the way he was looking at you made your pulse quicken.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked, still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity in your voice.
He moved closer, placing his hands casually on the counter beside you, his body barely separate from yours. “You,” he said bluntly, his voice dropping lower. “Watching you cook, has me thinking about our future together… it’s making it impossible to focus.”
You paused, raising an eyebrow. “A future together?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the implication. “Like what?”
Ayato’s lips curled into a confident, knowing smile. “Like this. You, in our home, doing all these wifely things, making our space feel warm and lived-in…” His voice was laced with a quiet heat as he leaned in, his breath brushing against your ear. “I can already see it—us—with kids running around, your laugh filling the halls, hearing the sound of little feet chasing each other.”
The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you froze for a moment, feeling his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. His chest pressed against yours, and you could feel his heartbeat—a steady rhythm that matched the rapid pace of your own.
Ayato didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips captured yours in a kiss—slow at first, but quickly turning deeper as his hands slid around to your back, pulling you even closer. His desire was palpable, every movement of his hands speaking louder than his words ever could.
When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily, his hands still on you as he looked down at you with a knowing smile. “I can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hoarse. “Seeing you like this, talking about our future… I want it, more than anything. And I want you... right here, right now.” His eyes darkened with desire. “I can’t stop thinking about it—thinking about you.”
You shivered at his words, your chest tightening with anticipation. His boldness, his forwardness—it wasn’t something you were used to seeing from Ayato, and yet in this moment, it made your heart race. You felt the weight of his desire, the rawness of it, and it ignited something in you as well.
He didn’t wait for you to respond, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands sliding along the curves of your body with a sense of urgency. “You’re going to drive me mad if you keep looking at me like that,” he growled. “I can already picture it, I want it all.”
His words were enough to push you over the edge, and without thinking, you pulled him closer, kissing him fiercely, giving into the heat between you. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you up against him as his desire burned hotter.
And as he kissed you with an intensity you hadn’t expected, you realised that this wasn’t just about the moment. It was about the future you were both already imagining together—the family, the home, the life—and Ayato was determined to make that future as real as possible.
The thought of a life together, full of passion, warmth, and the sound of children’s laughter echoing through your shared home, consumed him completely. And as he held you close, he knew he would stop at nothing to make that future a reality.
Ayato's hands slide down your sides, his touch igniting sparks wherever he touches. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you with hooded eyes. "I want you so badly," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to make you mine in every way possible."
His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he starts to tug it upward, his fingers skimming over the smooth skin of your stomach. You shiver at his touch, arching into him as he leans down to trail kisses along your collarbone.
"I can't wait to see you round with my child," he breathes against your skin, his hand splaying across your belly. "To know that I put them there."
He walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the kitchen counter, and with a swift movement, he lifts you onto it, stepping between your parted thighs.
"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he promises, his hands already working to remove your clothes.
The intensity of Ayato's desire is palpable as he stands between your parted thighs, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin as he slowly strips away your clothing, revealing more and more of you to his appreciative eyes.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. "So perfect."
His fingers trace the curve of your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples until they harden under his touch. You gasp, arching into him, craving more of his touch. He obliges, leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on your breasts. His other hand slides down your stomach.
Ayato's hand slides down your stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your panties. You gasp at the contact, your hips lifting instinctively seeking more of his touch. He chuckles lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"So eager," he teases, his fingers slipping lower, brushing against your slick folds.
He circles your clit with a feather-light touch, making you whimper and squirm beneath him. Your head falls back against the counter, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself to the sensation of his skilled fingers.
"Please," you breathe, your hips rolling against his hand, seeking more friction.
Ayato obliges, sliding a finger inside you, then another, pumping them in and out of your pussy. Your inner walls clench around him, drawing him deeper.
"That's it, sweetheart," he encourages, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. "Let me make you feel good."
His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl. You cry out, your grip on his hair tightening as pleasure courses through your veins.
"You're so tight," he groans, his own arousal evident in the way his hips grind against yours. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."
He adds a third finger, stretching you, preparing you for what's to come. Your body trembles on the edge of release, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.
Ayato's fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips buck against his hand, desperate for more friction, more pressure. You can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
"That's it, beautiful," Ayato muses, "Look so pretty like this-"
His words, combined with the skillful movements of his fingers, are enough to send you over the edge. Your body tenses, your back arching off the counter as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cry out, your inner walls clenching around Ayato's fingers as you ride out the intense sensations.
Ayato doesn't stop, continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. As you start to come down from your high, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips.
"Mmm, you taste so sweet," he murmurs, licking your essence from his fingers. "I could do that forever if you let me."
Before you can catch your breath, he's removing his own clothes, not taking long to reveal his hard, throbbing cock.
"Need to be inside you-" he groans, his hands gripping your hips. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."
He steps between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance.
Ayato slowly pushes into you, his cock stretching you deliciously. You moan at the sensation of being filled, your walls clenching around him. He groans at the tight heat enveloping him, his hips pressing forward until he's fully seated inside you.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. "So perfect."
He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the embers of your desire once more.
Ayato's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust designed to bring you maximum pleasure. His hands roam over your body, caressing every curve and dip as he loses himself in the feel of you.
"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."
His words, coupled with the tender way he makes love to you, bring tears to your eyes. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him.
"Show me," you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair. "Show me how much you love me."
Ayato's response is to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he continues to move within you. The kiss is slow and sensual, a reflection of the intimate act you're sharing.
"I'll always love you," he vows against your lips. "Always."
As he speaks, his thrusts become more urgent, more passionate. You can feel the coil of pleasure building once more in your core, your body responding to his every move.
Ayato's thrusts become more urgent, more passionate, as he loses himself in the feel of you. But even as he chases his own pleasure, his mind is filled with thoughts of the future, of the life you'll build together.
"I want this," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want us, together, forever. I want to wake up next to you every morning, to come home to you every night."
His hand slides down to your stomach, pressing gently against the soft skin. "I want to see you round with my child, to watch you grow and change as our family grows."
The thought sends a shiver of excitement through you, and you cling to him tighter, your hips meeting his thrust for thrust. “I want that too-”
Ayato's response is a low growl, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he pounds into you, chasing his release.
Ayato's thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, as he chases his climax. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he drives into you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every stroke.
"I'm close," he grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I want to fill you up, to mark you as mine."
His words send a thrill through you, and you clench around him, urging him on. "Yes," you gasp, "Please-"
With a final, powerful thrust, Ayato buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his cum deep inside you. The sensation of his hot release triggers your own orgasm.
As Ayato empties himself inside you, your walls clench and flutter around his cock, milking him for every last drop. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your juices gush around his length, coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs.
"Fuck, yes," Ayato groans, his hips twitching as he feels your release, his hips grinding against yours as he rides out the waves of pleasure. "Take it all, baby. Take all of me."
He continues to thrust shallowly, drawing out your climax, his own cock pulsing with aftershocks. Your inner walls ripple around him, squeezing him tightly as you ride out the intense sensations.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and appreciative. "So perfect, like you were made for me, weren't you?"
As the last waves of pleasure subside, Ayato leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you as his own. You moan into the kiss, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer.
The kiss is slow and sensual, a reflection of the intimate act you've just shared. Ayato's hands roam over your body, caressing your curves, your skin still slick with sweat.
"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."
You smile against his mouth, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you too," you whisper back. "Always and forever."
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જ⁀ when you take care of him - 1.9k
Wriothesley leaned back against the pillows, a picture of reluctant vulnerability—a rare sight, his usual sharp confidence dulled by the grip of a stubborn cold. He’d fought tooth and nail to convince you he didn’t need anyone fussing over him, but his protests had crumbled under your firm insistence. So now, he was stuck with you at his bedside, his gruff pride no match for your stubborn resolve.
You place a tray alongside him, holding soup, and a few other remedies. "Alright, let's get you sorted," you said, scooping up a spoonful of broth and extending it toward him.
He looked back at you, his brow furrowed with stubborn defiance, but you only hitched an eyebrow in silence.
He let out a long, aggrieved sigh and grumbled under his breath before he leaned forward and took the spoonful, holding it longer in his mouth than was really necessary, his eyes latched onto yours. His cheeks already flushed with fever, coloured a fraction darker, but he acted like he didn't notice.
"See? That wasn't so bad," you teased your voice soft as you reached up to sweep a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
His jaw clenched, and he cleared his throat, looking away as if the ceiling had suddenly become fascinating. Something about the way you touched him-so gentle, so deliberate-had him feeling unstably off-balance.
His pulse raced, a heat coiling low in his stomach, that left an evident reaction under the blankets that he desperately tried to will away. Mortified by his reaction, he reached for a cushion and shifted it onto his lap, with forced nonchalance.
"You don't need to babysit me," he grumbled, his voice hoarse, and he refused to meet your gaze. "I'll be alright. You've got much more important things to attend to."
“Oh, nice try,” you replied with a wry smile, holding another spoonful toward him. “You’re stuck with me until I’m satisfied that you’re actually resting. So stop pretending you’re not secretly grateful.”
His lips parted, but whatever retort he’d planned died on his tongue as he met your gaze. There was no teasing in your eyes now, only a quiet tenderness that made his chest tighten. You cared-truly-and it was overwhelming in a way he hadn't anticipated.
"Why are you doing all this?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, giving away a flicker of something unguarded.
You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the skin that flushed there. "Because you deserve it," you said, so simply. "Even if you're too stubborn to admit it."
He inhaled sharply, his hold on the cushion tightening as the touch of your hand warmed through him and sent a jolt of something far from comforting through him. His mind was racing as the tension betrayed his attempts to keep composed. The hell is wrong with him? He thought. This isn't supposed to feel like… this.
But you noticed. The way his jaw tensed, the subtle shift under the blankets—it was impossible to miss. A mischievous spark lit up in your eyes, and you leaned in just a fraction closer.
“Wrio,” you murmured, your tone laced with playful curiosity. “Are you… turned on right now?”
His head whipped toward you, his wide eyes betraying his panic. “What—no! I mean… maybe? Fuck, I don’t know,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.
You bit back a grin, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. “Aww,” you cooed, your voice teasing. “The big, tough Warden, all flustered over a little care? How adorable.”
“Shut up,” he growled, his face burning crimson as he glared at you—though the heat in his gaze betrayed something far less menacing. "It's not like that."
"Oh, really?" you said, leaning in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Then what is it like, Wriothesley?"
He swallowed, his eyes darting to yours before dropping again. "It's... it's nothing," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "Just a stupid physical reaction, that's all."
"Mmm, I see," you hummed, reaching out to trace a finger down his jawline. "And by that, what you're trying to tell me is that right now it's not crossing your mind how nice it would feel to be taken care of by someone else? Make you feel better?"
He let out a shaking breath as his eyes darkened to meet yours. "I- I don't." he stammered, words trailing off as he fought for a coherent thought.
"It's alright," you whispered, a small smile on your lips. "I can see it in your eyes, Wriothesley. You want this, don't you? You want me to make you feel good."
His breath hitched, and his chest began to rise and fall more and more rapidly as he stared at you, pupils dilated with arousal. "Yes," he breathed, his voice rough from need. "God, yes, I do."
Your heart was racing, your own desire a mirror of his while you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. "Then let me take care of you," you murmured.
He emitted a low groan; his body quivered in anticipation. "Please," he whispered, voice raw with need. "Please, I need you."
You reached underneath the duvet, your fingers tracing over his hot skin, tracing the lines of his toned stomach. He shivered beneath your touch, breathing in short, ragged gasps as you explored his body.
"Fuck," he groaned, his hips bucking up against your hand. "That feels so good."
You smirked, your fingers dipping lower, teasing the waistband of his boxers. "Is that so?" you purred, your eyes glinting with mischief.
As you freed his throbbing cock from the confines of his boxers you couldn't help but marvel at the sight. His cock, thick and hard, proudly standing to attention. A drop of precum glistened from the tip of his cock, his need evident.
You swirled your thumb around the head, smearing the slick fluid and drawing a shudder from Wriothesley. "Mmm, look at you," you purred, low and husky.
He let out a choked noise, eyes fluttering shut as he fisted his hands in the sheets.
"Please," he pleaded, voice raw with need. "Please, touch me."
You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke from base to tip. His cock twitched in your hand, another drop of precum beading at the slit. He bucked against your hand, his hips rocking in time with your movements.
"That's it," you murmured, your thumb swiping over the sensitive head of his cock. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
He nodded, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to your touch. His body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as you worked him over.
You smirked, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the head of his cock. He shuddered beneath you, his hands fisting in your hair as you licked a slow stripe up his length.
"Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip.
With that, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down. He let out a strangled cry, his hips thrusting up to meet your movements.
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder, taking him deeper, your nose nestling into the hair at the base of his cock. He was throbbing in your mouth, his precum coating your tongue as you worked him over.
"Fuck-" he gasped, voice ragged with pleasure. "Your mouth feels amazing."
You hummed around his shaft, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.
As you continued to suck and lick at Wriothesley's throbbing cock, your free hand drifted lower, cupping his heavy balls. You rolled them gently in your palm, feeling their weight, savouring the way they twitched at your touch.
Wriothesley let out a low groan, his hips bucking up into your mouth. "Fuck, that feels good," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.
You hummed in return, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. Your fingers massaged his balls, delicate flesh kneaded as you worked him over.
He was leaking steadily now, his precum coating your tongue as you sucked him deeper. The taste of him filled your senses: musky, masculine. It was intoxicating - your own arousal growing with each passing second.
"God-" he panted, his hands fisting in your hair. "I'm getting close."
You redoubled your efforts, your head bobbing faster as you took him to the back of your throat. Your fingers squeezed his balls, feeling them draw up even tighter as his climax approached.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he warned, his voice ragged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
You moaned around his shaft, the vibrations pushing him over the edge. With one final thrust of his hips, he exploded in your mouth, ropes of cum filling your throat as he cried out in ecstasy.
You swallowed it all, milking him through his orgasm until he was spent and trembling beneath you. Finally, you released him from your mouth, licking your lips as you pulled back.
As Wriothesley came down from his high, you couldn't help but tease him just a little bit more. 
You lightly ran your tongue over the sensitive head of his cock, licking up the last of his release. He shuddered beneath you, his over-sensitive flesh twitching at every light touch.
"Ah!" he gasped, jerking his hips without meaning to. "Too much, I can't—"
You smirked, eyes glinting with mischief as you continued your sweet torment. Your tongue swirled around the tip and he whimpered, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tried to push you away, but you held firm, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from his spent body.
"I could do this all day." you purred, breath hot against his skin.
He let out a strangled laugh, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're a fucking tease," he grumbled, but there was no real heat behind his words.
You smiled, giving the head of his cock one final kiss before releasing him from your mouth. Sitting back, you licked your lips as you took in the view he presented-flush-cheeked, panting, eyes glossed over with satisfaction.
"Someone's gotta take care of you," you murmured, your voice husky. "And I'm more than willing to volunteer for the job."
You leaned down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Wriothesley's lips. He sighed into the kiss, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer. It was a tender moment, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had come before.
You drew back, staring into his eyes, the warmth and affection glowing within. "How are you feeling?" you asked, softly. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, and he smiled. His hand came up to overlay yours. "Better," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Much better, thanks to you."
You leaned in, nuzzling his nose with yours. "I aim to please," you teased, your eyes sparkling merrily.
He chuckled and shook his head in mock exasperation. "You're hopeless" he mumbled, but there was no mistaking the fondness in his tone.
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જ⁀ seeing you wearing his clothes - 2.6k
Neuvillette opened the door, exhaling softly as he stepped into the quiet of his home. After a day full of formalities, courtroom battles, and endless patience, the relief of finally being in his own space was palpable.
He set his coat aside, running a hand through his hair to loosen the constraints of his usually perfect appearance. But as he looked up, whatever was left of his exhaustion was washed clean by the sight of you curled up on the couch in one of his shirts.
You looked up and smiled softly, but the sight of you in his clothes, settled comfortably into his personal space, had him frozen in place. The shirt fell just a little too loose on your frame, sleeves slipping past your wrists, and the hem brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough to spark his desire. The scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the fabric, mingling with your own warmth, making something in him stir deeply.
A glint of intensity appeared in his eyes as he took a slow step forward, watching as your expression shifted, noticing the effect you’d unknowingly had on him. His gaze grew darker, the usual restraint crumbling as he drank in the sight of you in his clothes—his shirt, on you.
“You… have no idea what that does to me,” he murmured, his voice deepening with a possessive edge as he came to stand over you. His eyes roamed slowly from the collar falling off one shoulder to your bare legs curled beneath you.
Before you could respond, he was leaning down, caging you in his arms, his hands gripping the back of the couch as he hovered close, his breath warm against your ear. “It suits you, you know,” he whispered, his voice a blend of softness and possessive heat. “But you know what else? I think I’d rather be peeling it off you.”
His hands slid around your waist, tugging you closer as his lips grazed your neck in a mix of reverence and need. The weariness of his day forgotten, overcome by that fire that urged him to make sure you knew just how much you belonged to him.
"Don't move," he whispered, his voice raw as he pressed you against him. "I need this-
His fingers traced your waist, savouring the feel of soft fabric clinging to your form, but even more so, the sensation of you underneath. You could feel his heartbeat against you, the strong, steady rhythm betraying his calm exterior as his lips found a place on your shoulder- your neck, lingering as if to imprint this moment to memory.
Your hands lightly rested against his chest as he pressed closer, his eyes going dark, unguarded in the display of how far his longing had overcome him. "Every time I come home, I find myself hoping to see you like this," he murmured, voice low and husky. "So close… so undeniably mine.
His eyes, with fierce tenderness, burned as his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, angling your face up to meet his. For a moment longer, his eyes held yours before he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both possessive and fiercely tender.
Neuvillette's hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer, as his lips moved against yours with a fervour that bordered on desperation. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and when you granted him access, he deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with yours.
"You taste like home," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "Like everything I've ever wanted."
His hands roamed over your body, caressing the curves he knew so well.
His hands slid up your sides, tracing the hem of the shirt as it brushed against your thighs. "You look so beautiful like this, so perfectly mine."
He leaned in, nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply. "I want to make love to you, right here, with you wearing nothing but my shirt."
His hands slipped under the fabric, caressing your skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever he touched.
Neuvillette's hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he claimed your mouth in another searing kiss. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, deepening the kiss.
He carried you towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours, his hands gripping your thighs possessively. When he reached the bed, he laid you down gently, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress.
"You drive me wild," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "Seeing you in my shirt, wearing my scent... it's almost too much to bear."
His hands slid under the shirt, caressing your skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever he touched. He trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point, making you gasp.
"I need you," he growled, his voice rough with need. "I need to be inside you, to claim you, to make you mine in every way possible."
His hands slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your breasts. He dipped his head, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until it hardened under his touch. His other hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your folds, teasing you slowly.
Neuvillette's lips closed around your nipple, his tongue swirling and flicking against the sensitive bud. His hand continued to stroke you, his fingers teasing your folds, dipping inside you slowly.
He could feel your breath hitching, your body arching into his touch. He released your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the wet skin, making you shiver.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "So responsive, so beautiful."
His hand slid up your body, pushing the shirt higher, exposing more of your skin. He kissed a trail up your sternum, his lips brushing the underside of your chin before capturing your mouth in another deep, passionate kiss.
His fingers continued their teasing dance between your legs, stroking and circling, building the tension within you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your body begging for more.
"Tell me how I can please you." he whispered against your lips.
Neuvillette's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at you, his hand still teasing your folds. "Anything, mon amour," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I would do anything to please you, to make you feel good."
His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He captured your earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently. "I want to worship every inch of you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. 
His fingers continued their skilled ministrations, stroking and teasing, building the tension within you. He could feel your hips rocking against his hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure.
"That's it, mon amour," he encouraged, his voice low and husky. "Let go, let yourself feel everything. I've got you.”
Neuvillette's fingers glided expertly through your slick folds, teasing and stroking, building the tension within you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild with desire.
His thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure. At the same time, two of his fingers pushed inside you, curling upwards to stroke that spot deep within that made your toes curl.
He set a steady rhythm, his fingers moving in and out, in and out, his thumb continuing its maddening circles. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your body responding to his touch.
He angled his fingers slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. His thumb increased its pressure on your clit, rubbing in tight circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"You're so beautiful when you're lost in pleasure," he growled, his own desire evident in his voice.
"Wanna make you feel good too-"
He rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so that your pussy was hovering right above his mouth and you were met with his crotch.
Neuvillette's eyes darkened with lust as he gazed up at you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. "Then take what you need, mon amour," he growled, his voice muffled against your core.
He pulled you down, his tongue delving between your folds, licking and sucking, tasting your essence. His hands gripped your ass, holding you in place.
You reached down, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers. His thick, hard cock sprang free, the tip already glistening with precum.
Neuvillette's breath hitched as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly. "Please-" he groaned, his hips bucking up into your touch.
You lowered your head, your tongue flicking out to lick the precum from the tip of his cock. Neuvillette groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you closer.
You wrapped your lips around his thick shaft, taking him deep into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, sucking and licking, your hand stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth.
Neuvillette's hips rocked up to meet your movements, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Yes, just like that," he groaned.
Neuvillette moaned into your folds as he lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him, his fingers digging into your flesh.
He could feel your juices coating his tongue, your scent filling his senses, driving him wild with desire. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep inside you.
His nose brushed against your clit as he buried his face deeper, his tongue curling to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. He could feel you trembling above him, your moans filling the room.
"Come for me, mon amour," he growled against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "Let go, let me feel you."
He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers pumping in and out of you, faster and harder.
He could feel your thighs trembling against his face, your moans growing louder, more desperate. He knew you were close, could feel your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.
"That's it, mon amour," he growled, his voice muffled against your folds.
Neuvillette felt your body tense above him, your walls clamping down around his fingers as your orgasm crashed over you. He lapped at your clit, prolonging your pleasure, his fingers gentling their movements as you rode out the waves of your climax.
He continued to lap at your folds, cleaning up your cum, his tongue swirling and flicking, bringing you down from your high.
But Neuvillette remained strong, not letting himself get close, wanting to finish inside you.
As you came down from your high, Neuvillette slowly released your thighs, his hands caressing your skin as he pulled back. His cock throbbed, aching for release, but he ignored it, his focus solely on your pleasure.
He sat up, turning you around and pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the flavour mingling with his own unique taste.
"I need to be inside you," he growled against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel you, all of you."
He laid you back on the bed, his body covering yours, his cock nestling against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, seeking permission, seeking connection.
You nod.
With a slow, steady push, he sank into you, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length.
"Ah, sweetheart-" he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "You feel incredible, so tight, so perfect."
He began to move, his hips rocking against yours, his cock sliding in and out of your slick heat. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he thrust into you, deeper and harder with each movement.
"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "I love you so so much-"
His pace increased, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he chased his release. His fingers dug into your hips, leaving marks of his passion, his possession.
Neuvillette's teeth sank into your shoulder, marking you as his, as he thrust into you with wild abandon. His hips slammed against yours, his cock driving deep inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.
"Mine," he growled, his voice low and possessive. "All mine, now and forever."
His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your body responding to his every move.
He angled his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you scream his name. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Come with me, angel" he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Let me feel you."
Neuvillette could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside you. He redoubled his efforts, his hips slamming against yours, his fingers rubbing your clit harder, faster.
His teeth sank into your shoulder again, his mark claiming you, possessing you, as his thrusts became erratic, his movements losing their rhythm.
With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came, ropes of cum flooding you, your name a prayer on his lips.
As Neuvillette's orgasm crashed over him, you could feel your own release building, your walls clamping down around his pulsing cock. Your body trembled beneath him, your moans filling the room as you rode out the waves of your climax.
Your back arched off the bed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, holding him close as you came undone. Your inner walls rippled around his length, milking him, drawing out every last drop of his seed.
"Neuvillette!" you cried out, your voice breaking as the pleasure consumed you.
Neuvillette held you close, his arms wrapping around you, his body shaking with the force of his own release. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name over and over again.
Neuvillette held you close as you both came down from your highs, your bodies entwined, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal. He pressed soft kisses to your neck, your jaw, your cheeks, his lips trailing over your skin like a whisper.
"I love you, angel," he murmured, his voice low and tender. "I love you more than anything in this world."
He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. His hand stroked your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp.
"You are my everything," he whispered, his arms tightening around you. "My heart, my soul, my reason for being."
He closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he held you close, savouring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.
"Rest now, mon amour," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.
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જ⁀ watching you fight - 2.6k
The air heavy with the scent of battle and the sharp crackle of elemental energy. Wanderer’s movements were graceful and precise as always, his slender figure darting between foes with deadly elegance. But his focus wasn’t entirely on the fight.
No, his attention was locked on you.
You fought with a raw intensity, every strike you made sharp and calculated, every movement full of purpose. The way you moved, the way you commanded the space around you, was captivating. With every swing of your weapon, you demonstrated your strength and your resilience, your utter refusal to back down. The fire in your eyes was irresistible, and Wanderer couldn’t tear his gaze away from you.
Each time you dodged an attack, countered an enemy, or dispatched another foe with ease, his chest tightened with something he wasn’t quite used to—something primal.
He had always admired your strength, but this—this—was something different. The sight of your passion, your raw determination, made him ache with desire.
You caught his eye in the midst of a battle, and for a brief moment, the world around you seemed to disappear. He saw the way your lips curled in a confident, almost defiant smile as you took down an enemy, and it hit him like a jolt of electricity. His body tensed, a heat flooding his chest as he watched you finish the last enemy off with a powerful blow.
The battle ended in a flash of elemental power, and then there was silence. The only sound was your heavy breathing, while the air still hung heavy with the remnants of a fight. Wanderer didn't tear his eyes from you as he stared at the mess your hair was in, at the droplets of sweat glinting upon your skin. You were standing tall, victorious, and you radiated an undeniable strength that stirred something in him—a hunger he couldn’t push away.
You wiped the sweat from your brow, turning to face him with a breathless smile. “Not bad, huh?” you said, your voice teasing, but there was an edge of satisfaction in it.
Wanderer didn’t answer immediately. His eyes raked over you with an intensity that was impossible to miss. There was something about the way you fought, the way you carried yourself that made it impossible for him to ignore how turned on he was. He couldn’t shake the image of you fighting by his side, every graceful movement making his pulse race.
His eyes gleamed with something darker now, and when he spoke, his voice was rough, low, like he was tasting the words before they left his mouth.
“You have no idea,” he said, his gaze moving over you slowly, like a predator studying its prey. He let the words hang between you, heavy with intent. “The way you fight... the way you move, like nothing else matters but the battle... it’s...” He let out a soft, almost dismissive laugh, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice. “It’s intoxicating.”
His gaze drifted to the blood on your clothes, the way your chest heaved with each breath, the way your muscles flexed beneath the sweat and the grime of the fight. The blood—yours or theirs, it didn’t matter—only seemed to fuel the fire in his chest, igniting something that had been simmering beneath the surface.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you with purpose. “You look... different,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, a low growl in the back of his throat. “Tired, yes. But also more... alive.” His eyes locked with yours, holding your gaze, the unspoken words between you as thick as the sweat on your skin. “I can see it in your eyes—the rush, the satisfaction from victory.”
You could feel his presence closing in, his body just a hair’s breadth away from yours, his every movement sharp and deliberate. There was no longer any space between you two, the battlefield forgotten, the dead enemies fading into the background as he loomed over you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.
He was studying you now, watching the way your body reacted to his proximity, the slight catch in your breath as you stood tall, still proud in your exhaustion. Wanderer leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.
“Is that what you wanted, doll?” His voice was a whisper, but it was filled with a hunger that made your heart race. “For me to look at you like this? Wanting you, seeing you in a way that’s... less respectful and more... desperate.”
A shudder ran through you at the sound of his voice, at the words that lingered in the air between you two. You wanted to push him away, but your body—your senses—were screaming for more. This was different. This was dangerous, thrilling, and you couldn’t deny the pull.
He reached out, his fingers grazing along your jawline, tracing the curve of your cheek. The touch was light, almost feather-soft, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, making your skin tingle with anticipation.
“But I think we both know that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” His voice was a purr, a low, seductive sound that made your heart race. “To be seen, to be desired, to be... wanted.”
He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You could feel the heat of his breath, the weight of his gaze as it bore into you. “Well I want you-”
His hand slid down your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging gently. “So tell me, are you ready to give in? To let me have my way with you, right here, right now, where anyone could see?”
His other hand trailed down your side, his touch possessive, claiming. He was so close, his body pressed against yours, his desire palpable in the air between you.
You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, the hardness of his muscles, the way he seemed to radiate power and hunger. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body responding to his touch even as your mind screamed at you to resist.
But you couldn’t. Not when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Like he wanted to devour you, to consume you, to make you his in every way possible.
So you surrendered, your lips parting in a silent invitation, your body arching into his touch. And as his lips crashed against yours, you knew that there was no going back and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, a sharp, sudden sting that made him gasp. His eyes widened in surprise, then darkened with desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
"Fuck," he breathed, the word muffled against your mouth. "So eager, aren't you?"
His hands tightened in your hair, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.
"That how you wanna’ play it, huh?" he murmured, his voice husky, laced with promise. He nipped at your lip in retaliation, a quick, sharp bite that sent sparks of pleasure-pain racing down your spine.
His hands roamed your body, mapping out your curves. He cupped one of your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt, teasing, taunting.
He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached for the waistband of your pants. His fingers hooked into the fabric, and with a swift, practised motion, he tugged them down, letting them pool around your ankles.
You stepped out of them, now clad in just your shirt and underwear. The cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Scaramouche's gaze as it raked over your body.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "I could just eat you up."
His hands slid up your legs, his touch searing even through the thin fabric of your panties. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, tugging them down slowly, teasingly.
As he revealed you to him, inch by tantalising inch, his breath hitched. "God, look at you," he murmured, his voice reverent, awed. "So fucking perfect."
His hands mapped out your thighs, your hips, your stomach, worshipping every curve, every dip. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your hipbone, then trailing his lips lower.
"Gonna make you feel so good, baby," he promised, his voice a dark, seductive purr. "Gonna make you forget everything but the feeling of my mouth on you."
And with that, he sealed his lips over your clit, and the world fell away, leaving only sensation, only pleasure, only him.
His tongue traced the seam of your folds, a slow, deliberate stroke that sent shivers racing up your spine. He savoured the taste of you, the musky sweetness that was uniquely yours. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he explored every inch of you.
He started with broad strokes, his tongue lapping at your folds, coating them with his saliva. Then, with agonising slowness, he zeroed in on your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, teasing, tormenting.
"Mmm, you taste divine," he purred, his voice muffled against your flesh. "I could spend hours just worshipping this pretty little pussy."
He punctuated his words with a long, slow lick, from your entrance to your clit, savoring every drop of your essence. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you gasp and arch your hips.
His hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you closer, deeper into his mouth. He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, hard, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through you.
"That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Let me hear you. Let the whole world know how good I make you feel."
He redoubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, driving you higher and higher, closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs trembled, your abs clenched, and you could feel the pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
"Come for me, doll" he purred.
And with a final, hard suck on your clit, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing, your juices flooding his mouth as he lapped them up greedily, prolonging your pleasure.
He didn't stop until he was sure you were spent, until the last aftershocks had faded away. Only then did he pull back, his chin glistening with your essence, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
He grabbed your hips, spinning you around with surprising strength. Before you could react, he had you pressed against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his body flush against your back.
His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to cup your breast, kneading it roughly. The other slid between your legs, fingers delving into your still-slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit.
He thrust two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly, torturously. His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles around it, making you gasp and arch into his touch.
"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his voice a dark, seductive rumble.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. His teeth grazed your flesh, not quite breaking the skin, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain through you.
His free hand moved to his pants, undoing them with practised ease. The sound of a zipper being pulled down seemed impossibly loud in the quiet of the forest. Then, he was tugging his cock free, the hard length pressing against your ass.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, grinding against you. "So fucking perfect."
He lined himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick folds.
"Last chance to back out, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
He waited, his body tense, poised on the edge of control. He wanted you, needed you, but he would wait. He would give you one last chance to refuse him, to deny him what he craved most.
But deep down, he knew you wouldn't. He could see the desire in your eyes, the need, the hunger. You wanted this just as much as he did, and he could feel it in the way your body trembled against his, the way your hips canted back, silently begging for more.
"Please what, baby?" he purred, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Please fuck you?"
He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin.
"Or please stop?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing taunt. "Please don't give you what you so desperately need?"
The tip slowly pushed through your folds, but no more. He was so big, so hard, you knew he'd completely stretch you open.
“Stop being an idiot and fuck me-” you muttered.
With a low chuckle, he slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "So fucking tight."
He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the forest, mingling with your mutual moans and gasps.
He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, building higher and higher, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Let me hear you. Let the whole damn world know who’s fucking you-"
His thrusts grew harder, faster, more erratic. The pleasure was building, coiling tighter and tighter in his core, threatening to consume him entirely. He could feel you clenching around him, your walls fluttering and squeezing his cock.
"Fuck, I'm close," he groaned, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up. Gonna make you mine."
His hand slid down, fingers finding your clit. He rubbed tight, firm circles around the sensitive nub, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Come with me, baby," he demanded, his voice a dark, commanding growl.
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing and twitching as he filled you with his cum, sending you over the edge with him.
You came with a scream, your body convulsing and shaking in his arms. He held you close, his hips still rocking, prolonging your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of ecstasy.
"Fuck, yes," he panted, his voice ragged and raw. "That's my good girl."
He peppered your neck with kisses, his teeth grazing your skin. "You did so well, baby.”
He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, savouring the feeling of your body wrapped around his. Finally, with a soft groan, he pulled out, his now softening cock slipping from your pussy.
"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "And then maybe round two when we're inside, hmm?"
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reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3
© lovecuprite → do not copy or translate any of my works
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s0dium · 5 months ago
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Warning: Gojo fucking you in his domain
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You are suspended in the celestial infinity of Unlimited Void, your senses ensnared in the vast expanse that mirrors outer space itself.
Oh, and you are being fucked.
Stars and distant galaxies cast a surreal glow, as raw, boundless information floods your mind, yet in this bewildering cosmos, you are not alone. Gojo, stands ontop of you, inside of you, his touch a grounding force against the sensory torrent threatening to consume you.
"Come one baby stay with me, I know you feel good I know."
You cant even open your mouth to respond. Gojo's presence becomes the eye of your storm. His fingers brush against yours, and the chaos that raged within you calms instantly; his touch shields you from the domain's crippling effect.
Now, all you can focus on is the feeling of euphoria coming from your core. Each of his thrusts, every time he drags his dick in and out of you, it is enough to send you to a euphoric grave. His rhythm is slow, and careful, treating you like you are glass that could break at any second. But his thrust are hard, the tip of his dick hitting a spot inside of you with such perfection your toes curl from the pleasure.
Gojo's eyes, those endless pools of blue, lock onto yours, and in this realm where time and reality seem to bend, he leans in. The kiss is a contradiction—both a surge of adrenaline and a peace beyond measure. Pleasure, intense and unbridled, washes over you, each sensation amplified by the void that engulfs you both but cannot touch your shared moment.
"God you are so beautiful." He murmurs and you almost cum right there and then from his words. And you do. As your nerves ignite and you fall off the cliff of pleasure, you can feel him, really feel him. Feel the twitch of his member inside you, feel his length scrape against your walls with delicious friction. Your tongue falls out of your mouth and your eyes roll back. Your whole body experiences this orgasm with such unbridled force that you shake. It's maddening. It's euphoric. It's him.
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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago
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Writing Notes: Children's Dialogue
Language is extremely complex, yet children already know most of the grammar of their native language(s) before they are 5 years old.
BABBLING
Babbling begins at about 6 months and is considered the earliest stage of language acquisition
By 1 year babbles are composed only of the phonemes used in the language(s) they hear
Deaf babies babble with their hands like hearing babies babble using sounds
FIRST WORDS
After the age of one, children figure out that sounds are related to meanings and start to produce their first words
Usually children go through a holophrastic stage, where their one-word utterances may convey more meaning
Example: "Up" is used to indicate something in the sky or to mean “pick me up”
Most common first words (among the first 10 words uttered in many languages): “mommy,” “daddy,” “woof woof,” “no,” “bye,” “hi,” “yes,” “vroom,” “ball” and “banana”
WORD MEANINGS
When learning words, children often overextend a word’s meaning
Example: Using the word dog to refer to any furry, four-legged animal (overextensions tend to be based on shape, size, or texture, but never color)
They may also underextend a word’s meaning
Example: Using the word dog to refer only to the family pet, as if dog were a proper noun
The Whole Object Principle: When a child learns a new word, (s)he is likely to interpret the word to refer to a whole object rather than one of its parts
SYNTAX
At about two years of age, children start to put words together to form two-word utterances
The intonation contour extends over the two words as a unit, and the two-word utterances can convey a range of meanings:
Example: "mommy sock" = subject + object or possessive
NOTE: Chronological age is NOT a good measure of linguistic development due to individual differences, so instead linguists use the child’s mean length of utterance (MLU) to measure development
The telegraphic stage describes a phase when children tend to omit function morphemes such as articles, subject pronouns, auxiliaries, and verbal inflection
Examples: "He play little tune" or "Andrew want that"
Between 2;6 and 3;6 a language explosion occurs and children undergo rapid development
By the age of 3, most children consistently use function morphemes and can produce complex syntactic structures:
Examples: "He was stuck and I got him out" / "It’s too early for us to eat"
After 3;6 children can produce wh-questions, and relative pronouns
Sometime after 4;0 children have acquired most of the adult syntactic competence
PRAGMATICS
Deixis: Children often have problems with the shifting reference of pronouns
Children may refer to themselves as "you"
Problems with the context-dependent nature of deictic words: Children often assume the hearer knows who s/he is talking about
AUXILIARIES
In the telegraphic stage, children often omit auxiliaries from their speech but can form questions (with rising intonation) and negative sentences
Examples: "I ride train?" / "I not like this book"
As children acquire auxiliaries in questions and negative sentences, they generally use them correctly
SIGNED LANGUAGES
Deaf babies acquire sign language in the same way that hearing babies acquire spoken language: babbling, holophrastic stage, telegraphic stage
When deaf babies are not exposed to sign language, they will create their own signs, complete with systematic rules
IMITATION, REINFORCEMENT, ANALOGY
Children do imitate the speech heard around them to a certain extent, but language acquisition goes beyond imitation
Children produce utterances that they never hear from adults around them, such as "holded" or "tooths"
Children cannot imitate adults fully while acquiring grammar
Example:
Adult: "Where can I put them?" Child: "Where I can put them?"
Children who develop the ability to speak later in their childhood can understand the language spoken around them even if they cannot imitate it
NOTE: Children May Resist Correction
Example: Cazden (1972) (observation attributed to Jean Berko Gleason) – My teacher holded the baby rabbits and we patted them. – Did you say your teacher held the baby rabbits? – Yes. – What did you say she did? – She holded the baby rabbits and we patted them. – Did you say she held them tightly? – No, she holded them loosely.
Another theory asserts that children hear a sentence and then use it as a model to form other sentences by analogy
But while analogy may work in some situations, certainly not in all situations:
– I painted a red barn. – I painted a barn red. – I saw a red barn. – I saw a barn red.
Children never make mistakes of this kind based on analogy which shows that they understand structure dependency at a very young age
BIRTH ORDER
Children’s birth order may affect their speech.
Firstborns often speak earlier than later-born children, most likely because they get more one-on-one attention from parents.
They favor different words than their siblings. 
Whereas firstborns gabble on about animals and favorite colors, the rest of the pack cut to the chase with “brother,” “sister,” “hate” and such treats as “candy,” “popsicles” and “donuts.” 
The social dynamics of siblings, it would appear, prime their vocabularies for a reality different than the firstborns’ idyllic world of sheep, owls, the green of the earth and the blue of the sky.
MOTHER'S LEVEL OF EDUCATION
Children may adopt vocabulary quite differently depending on their mother’s level of education.
In American English, among the words disproportionately favored by the children of mothers who have not completed secondary education are: “so,” “walker,” “gum,” “candy,” “each,” “could,” “wish,” “but,” “penny” and “be” (ordered starting with the highest frequency).
The words favored by the children of mothers in the “college and above” category are: “sheep,” “giraffe,” “cockadoodledoo,” “quack quack,” the babysitter’s name, “gentle,” “owl,” “zebra,” “play dough” and “mittens.” 
BOYS / GIRLS
One area of remarkable consistency across language groups is the degree to which the language of children is gendered.
The words more likely to be used by American girls than by boys are: “dress,” “vagina,” “tights,” “doll,” “necklace,” “pretty,” “underpants,” “purse,” “girl” and “sweater.”
Whereas those favored by boys are “penis,” “vroom,” “tractor,” “truck,” “hammer,” “bat,” “dump,” “firetruck,” “police” and “motorcycle.”
Tips for Writing Children's Dialogue (compiled from various sources cited below):
Milestones - The dialogue you write should be consistent with the child's developmental milestones for their age. Of course, other factors should be considered such as if the child has any speech or intellectual difficulties. Also note that developmental milestones are not set in stone and each child is unique in their own way.
Too "Cutesy" - If your child characters are going to be cute, they must be cute naturally through the force of their personality, not because the entire purpose of their existence is to be adorable.
Too Wise - It’s true kids have the benefit of seeing some situations a little more objectively than adults. But when they start calmly and unwittingly spouting all the answers, the results often seem more clichéd and convenient than impressive or ironic.
Unintelligent - Don’t confuse a child’s lack of experience with lack of intelligence. 
Baby Talk - Don’t make a habit of letting them misuse words. Children are more intelligent than most people think.
Unique Individuals - Adults often tend to lump all children into a single category: cute, small, loud, and occasionally annoying. Look beyond the stereotype.
Personal Goals - The single ingredient that transforms someone from a static character to a dynamic character is a goal. It can be easy to forget kids also have goals. Kids are arguably even more defined by their goals than are adults. Kids want something every waking minute. Their entire existence is wrapped up in wanting something and figuring out how to get it.
Don't Forget your Character IS a Child - Most of the pitfalls in how to write child characters have to do with making them too simplistic and childish. But don’t fall into the opposite trap either: don’t create child characters who are essentially adults in little bodies.
Your Personal Observation - To write dialogue that truly sounds like it could come from a child, start by being an attentive listener. Spend time around children and observe how they interact with their peers and adults. You can also study other pieces of media that show/write about children's behaviour (e.g., documentaries, films, TV shows, even other written works like novels and scripts).
Context - The context in which children speak is crucial to creating realistic dialogue. Consider their environment, who they're speaking to, and what's happening around them. Dialogue can change drastically depending on whether a child is talking to a friend, a parent, or a teacher. Additionally, children's language can be influenced by their cultural background, family dynamics, and personal experiences. Make sure the context informs the dialogue, lending credibility to your characters' voices.
Sources and other related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Writing Notes: On Children ⚜ Childhood Bilingualism More: Writing Notes & References
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