#but nothing feels better than finishing something and being satisfied

[reiding-writing]

Maybe a fic where Cold! Reader has been letting her softer side show around Spencer, and one day when she lets a smile slip he tries to tell her that he likes her smile??

THE SMILE THAT SLIPPED — SPENCER REID!

you don’t feel things like this. you don’t. ever. except maybe you actually do.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 2.4k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— this came out to exactly 2400 words and it’s so satisfying

The bullpen is quieter than usual.

The exhaustion of a closed case hangs in the air, making the usual rustling of paperwork and distant hum of conversation feel almost comforting. You sit at your desk, the last few reports in front of you, fingers idly toying with your pen as you force yourself to focus.

It’s late, but no one’s rushing to leave. The team lingers, unwinding in the way they always do after a case—half-finished conversations, shared glances, a collective sense of relief.

Across from you, Spencer is flipping through a file at an alarming speed, his knee bouncing beneath the desk. It’s a familiar sight, one you’ve grown used to. You don’t realize you’re watching until his voice breaks through the background noise.

*"*You know, statistically speaking, people who work late tend to make more errors in their reports. Fatigue impairs cognitive function—kind of like being drunk, actually. So, technically…” He looks up, eyes bright with something innocently fascinating. “We’re all just sleep-deprived, paper-pushing drunks right now,”

It’s not the words themselves. It’s the way he says it—earnest and slightly amused, like he didn’t mean for it to sound like a joke but realised it as he was saying it.

Before you can stop it, a small smile tugs at your lips. It’s brief, barely there, but it happens.

And Spencer sees it.

He stills mid-page turn, hazel eyes widening just slightly. His lips part, like he’s about to say something and then thinks better of it. But after a beat, his voice comes, softer this time.

“I like your smile,”

The words hit like a misfired shot, straight to the chest. Your breath catches.

You freeze.

For a moment, the bullpen fades—the low murmur of voices, the shuffle of papers, the distant ringing of a phone. All of it disappears beneath the weight of his words.

People have complimented you before. You know how to brush them off, how to let them roll off your back like they mean nothing. But this? This is different.

Because Spencer isn’t saying it in passing. He isn’t trying to flatter you or win you over. He’s just saying it, like a quiet observation. Like a fact.

And that unsettles you more than anything.

Your expression shutters in an instant. The walls go up before you can think, instinctual and sharp-edged. You look away, shaking your head slightly, as if dismissing the moment entirely.

“Get back to your report, Reid.”

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t want to see it. Instead, you focus on the papers in front of you, grip tightening around your pen.

But even as you force your attention elsewhere, his words linger. Nestle into the corners of your mind.

And that brief, impossible warmth in your chest?

You don’t want to think about what it means.

You don’t look at him again.

Not when he shifts slightly in his seat, the rustle of paper between his fingers halting for a fraction of a second. Not when he exhales softly, as if debating whether to say something more.

You just keep your eyes fixed on your report, willing the moment to disappear.

Your voice had been even, detached—just the way you intended. But there had been something else underneath. Too quiet for him to catch, you hope.

Spencer doesn’t say anything, but you feel the weight of his stare. A hesitation. A question he doesn’t voice. Then, slowly, the sound of him turning a page resumes, though less fluid than before.

Still, you don’t look up.

You can’t.

—

For the rest of the day, you keep your distance.

It’s not unusual for you to be reserved—stoic, even. No one questions it when you opt out of lingering conversations, when you choose solitude over small talk. But today, you’re avoiding Spencer in a way that’s painfully deliberate.

Every time he moves near, you find a reason to move elsewhere.

When he passes your desk to grab a file, you suddenly decide you need something from the break room.

When he glances your way during a briefing, you keep your gaze firmly on the case notes in front of you.

When he lingers near the coffee pot, shifting as if working up the nerve to speak, you bypass him entirely, opting for a bottle of water instead.

And Spencer notices.

At first, he thinks it’s a coincidence. Maybe you’re just having an off day. Maybe you’re distracted.

But by the fifth time it happens, the crease between his brows deepens.

Did he overstep?

He replays the moment in his mind, trying to pinpoint where he went wrong. He hadn’t meant anything by it—at least, not in a way that should’ve pushed you away.

He had just… liked your smile.

And maybe he shouldn’t have said it out loud, but it had slipped past his lips before he could stop it. Before he could remind himself that you don’t do things like this.

That you don’t let people in.

So why had you smiled in the first place?

And why does it bother him so much that you won’t even look at him now?

—

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter.

That the tension in your chest is nothing. That his words had been just that—words.

But as much as you try to shake them, they follow you.

“I like your smile,”

It had been soft. Unassuming. No expectation, no ulterior motive. Just an observation, spoken like a truth he hadn’t realised he was sharing.

And that’s what unsettles you the most.

You’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, making sure no one sees too much, knows too much. And yet, for one fleeting second, he’d seen something.

A crack in the armour.

And he hadn’t ridiculed it. Hadn’t pointed it out with some smug remark.

He had simply liked it.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

—

The injury isn’t bad.

It’s inconvenient, sure—annoying—but it’s nothing you can’t handle. A twisted ankle, a sharp jolt of pain when you put too much weight on it, but nothing that warrants the level of concern the team is throwing your way.

"You should ice that," Emily had said after the case wrapped, nodding toward your ankle as you leaned against the SUV.

“You should get it checked out,” Morgan added when you limped your way back into the precinct after your foiled foot chase.

“You should at least sit down,” JJ had pointed out, exasperated, when you waved off Morgan’s concern and started organising the paperwork.

And Spencer?

He hadn’t said anything.

He had looked—of course, he had. You could feel his eyes on you in the way that made your skin prickle, in the way that made you want to disappear under the scrutiny. But he never commented, never pushed.

It should’ve been a relief.

So why does it bother you?

—

You avoid going to the coffee shop down the street for obvious reasons. The last thing you need is for someone to make a fuss over you limping back to the office, and you refuse to ask anyone to go for you.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That the shitty break room coffee machine is fine. That it doesn’t bother you.

But when you come back from a meeting and sit at your desk, a familiar cup is waiting for you.

The logo. The exact order. The slight hint of caramel in the air.

You blink, staring at it like it might disappear.

You glance around the bullpen instinctively, but no one is paying you any mind. No one except Spencer, who doesn’t look away fast enough when your eyes find him.

The second you make eye contact, he drops his gaze back to his book, fingers twitching like he hadn’t meant to get caught.

You should ignore it. Pretend you didn’t notice. Pretend the warmth curling in your chest doesn’t exist.

Instead, your fingers tighten around the cup, a quiet acknowledgment only for yourself.

Then, you notice the note.

A small yellow sticky note, left beside your keyboard.

—Caffeine may slow the healing process, but I figured you’d rather risk it. Your ankle should improve in stages: swelling will peak in 48 hours, and mobility should return within a week. Try not to push it. :)

It’s simple. Factual. Exactly what you’d expect from him.

And yet, you feel something catch in your throat.

Not because of the words themselves, but because of what they mean.

Because despite the fact that you’ve been avoiding him for days, despite the fact that you shut down the last time he got too close, Spencer still noticed.

And he didn’t push. Didn’t demand a thank you. Didn’t hover or ask if you were okay.

He just… did this.

And you don’t realize how much it means until you’re alone.

—

You stare at the coffee.

It’s lukewarm now, condensation beading against the cup, but you haven’t taken a sip. You just keep staring, fingers curled around the cardboard sleeve, chest tight with something you don’t want to name.

It shouldn’t mean anything.

It’s just coffee. A stupid, simple gesture.

And yet.

The fact that you have it at all. The note. The way Spencer had looked away when you caught him watching—like he looking at you just because he wanted to.

You swallow hard.

This isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. Not really. You replay the moments in your head—the subtle ways he’s always noticed things about you before you even noticed them yourself.

The way he hands you a pen without you asking, just as yours runs out of ink.

The way he subtly shifts so you have an easier exit from a crowded room.

The way he remembers your order at every coffee shop, even when you don’t go to the same one twice.

The way he never pushes, never demands, never asks for more than you’re willing to give.

The way he just… sees you.

And that terrifies you.

Because you’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, building walls high enough that no one could ever slip through. You don’t let people close. You can’t.

But Spencer?

He’s already there.

And somehow, you hadn’t even noticed until now.

Your pulse stutters, something sharp and unfamiliar twisting in your stomach.

Oh no.

—

The next day, you wake up with a sense of urgency you don’t understand.

You can’t stop thinking about him—about Spencer. About everything. About how he’s seen you. And how that thought makes you want to hide.

You have half the mind to bury yourself in the earth and never look at him again. To pack up and leave the BAU and disappear into the anonymity of a new job, new city, new life. Somewhere no one could care enough to notice if you smiled or if you were limping or if you were secretly falling apart inside.

But you don’t.

You don’t run. Not this time.

Instead, you get to work early, before the team trickles in, before Spencer arrives and fills the room with that quietly intense energy he always carries with him.

You don’t know why you’re doing this. But the thought of avoiding him again, of pretending like nothing matters, feels too heavy to bear.

—

You don’t say anything.

You just do it.

You make his coffee—exactly the way he likes it. Not too much sugar, swirled black, in that old worn out starfish mug he should’ve thrown out years ago.

You’re silent in the break room, the hum of the coffee machine filling the space between you and the mug you slide carefully onto the counter. It feels like the most normal thing in the world to do, and yet, your heart is pounding like you’re stepping into a completely foreign territory.

You can already hear the steady click of footsteps approaching, but you don’t look up. Not until the moment is right.

He’s here.

Spencer doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes flick to the coffee on the counter, then to you, and then back to the coffee as if trying to make sense of it. It’s the same as always, and yet it’s different.

He looks up at you, caught off guard, blinking a few times.

You turn away quickly, suddenly aware of the heat in your face, as if somehow your actions were a betrayal of everything you’d been trying to keep locked away.

It’s nothing, you tell yourself. Nothing at all.

But then, before you can retreat into the familiar coldness, he smiles.

It’s soft. Quiet. Like he’s known all along what this was.

There’s no teasing in his eyes, no attempt to make light of the situation. Just understanding. And something else—something gentler than you’ve ever seen from him before.

His smile is everything you didn’t realize you needed.

And for once, you don’t run.

You let the moment sit.

You let the warmth settle between you.

You breathe in deeply, not pushing him away, not hiding behind your walls. Just standing in the same space with him, finally acknowledging what’s been there for far too long.

It’s not much. But it’s enough.

[housecow]

i used to do a lil shimmy/dance when i ate if things tasted good but. the more gluttonous i become the more i’m just focused on finishing things rather than savoring them 🫣

[morose-melodies]

DROP MORE PREGNANT READER AND MY LIFE IF YOURS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

ups and downs | various! yandere! fatui harbingers x pregnant reader

a/n: gimme your life :3

CAPITANO

you were not happy, the captain could tell.

whenever he'd bring light to your sad expression, you'd just sulk, and walk off, dragging your feet.

perhaps this pregnancy was getting to you more than he knew.

to see you so sad, to see you so sluggish, he knew you weren't feeling well.

so he started coddling you. he'd do everything for you, or, almost everything anyway. he would help you get dressed in the morning, he would braid your hair down for you to keep it out of your face, he'd hold your hand and walk you through the snowy garden with him.

things seemed to be looking up for you.

"it's getting colder shall we go back in?" the captain asked, pausing to look at you, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not ready..."

"very well," he would remove his coat and place it over your shoulders, "if it pleases you, we can continue our walk."

"thank you."

"of course. I'd do anything for you, (y/n)."

sure, he was getting tired of roaming the garden, but holding your hand and being near you, seeing you enjoy yourself, made it worth his while.

DOTTORE

dottore had it with you.

not literally, but goodness, you were wearing him out. if you weren't complaining about one thing, it was something else.

you were sitting in front of the fireplace complaining about how hot it was. so, of course, dottre had to help you find a better seat, or else you'd get upset with him.

and now, you were complaining about the fruit salad you were eating.

looking across the table at you, dottore picked at his salad. it was meant to be a small meal until dinner and here you were complaining about it.

"(y/n), if it's not to your liking, then don't eat it. nobody here is forcing you to eat it," dottore formed a smile on his face, it was small and tense but if he didn't smile at you, he knew you'd think he was being 'rude'.

"yeah, but I'm hungry... I don't think fruit salad should be so... mushy."

dottore swallowed, poking at his salad - it wasn't mushy at all. pulling your bowl away, he slid his own to you, "eat it, (y/n), please - there is absolutely nothing wrong with mine."

dottore then ate your fruit salad - it didn't matter to him how it tasted, as long as you were satisfied and eating, he didn't mind how rotten the salad tasted.

though, he would be firing the chief for even daring to serve this garbage to you.

PANTALONE

"look at this dress, oh, it looks absolutely lovely on you," pantalone turned you to face the mirror, his hand hovering over your round belly before he dropped it to his side.

catching a glance at your face, pantalone saw that you were frowning deeply. "(y/n)... what's the matter?"

"I'm tired," you replied, looking at him through the mirror.

right, pantalone had forgotten, you've been quite sluggish these past few months. it was inconsiderate of him to make you stand and try on multiple dresses just for his satisfaction.

it was truly inconsiderate of him.

"oh, it completely slipped my mind," pantalone was quick to turn you to face him, his hands on your shoulder, "forgive me, won't you? here, let me help you out of this..."

"it's fine..." you mumbled, as he began tugging the dress from over your head. removing the dress, he helped you back into your old clothes.

"a nap would be nice, no?" taking your hand into his, he guided you into his bedroom where the two of you would lie down for a nap.

he could tell you were tired.

gosh, he was so very considerate.

CHILDE

when childe worked, he had a new goal in mind.

providing for you, of course. he was going to be a father; he needed to prove that he was worth it, and he needed to prove just how good of a father he'd be.

he had never felt quite so motivated before. he had never felt so motivated to be good and stay out of trouble.

love really changes people, huh?

after finishing his work, he'd come home with a grin on his face. it didn't feel real, at all.

he was with you and you were going to have a child with him!

"(y/n), where are you? I'm home! I brought dinner," childe called out as he stepped through the front door.

the fireplace was on, the lights were off and the bedroom door was cracked open. huh, guess you were sleeping.

so childe crept down the hallway and into his bedroom where you were sleeping.

how pretty you were...

he sat down beside him, looking at you and your peaceful features. he grinned, how much better could his life get?

he idly messed with the hairs on your head, petting and twirling them around his finger. he sat there and did that for a while, that was until you woke up.

you swatted his hand away, scowling at him.

childe smiled down at you, "let's go shopping for baby clothes. that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"sure..."

"great! now let's go eat, (y/n), I brought dinner home for us."

eating dinner with you would be a nice change of pace but, of course, anything done with you would be nice.

[another-lost-mc]

When MC is Quiet in Bed Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS + THE DATEABLES/SIDE CHARACTERS 1.7k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Smut & Fluff Content warnings: They're all so in love, its cavity-inducing. Suggestive and sexual content, some pet names, teasing/dirty talk, cursing, body worship.

THEY'RE DETERMINED TO DRAW MORE NOISES FROM YOU

LUCIFER, ASMODEUS, BELPHEGOR, DIAVOLO, SOLOMON, MEPHISTOPHELES

Lucifer appreciates you exactly for who you are, but he’s the Avatar of Pride for a reason. When he tries to draw more noises from your kiss-swollen lips, he wants to prove to you (and he wants anyone else who might be listening to know) that no one else can ever satisfy you the way he can. By the time he’s finished, all you’ll be able to whisper or moan or feel is him. He can’t be with you every night, but whenever he fucks his fist thinking of you, he comes to the memory of the night you finally cried out his name. 

Asmodeus won’t stop until he knows your body as intimately as his own. When he gives you a massage after a long day, he knows where and how to touch you to draw relieved sighs from you. He knows what temperature to run your bath so you hum with contentment. In the bedroom, your pleasure is his pleasure, and there’s nothing more gratifying than seeing your head thrown back in ecstasy when he finally pulls a sweet moan or whimper from you. Hearing you sing for him, your body and voice together in perfect harmony, makes him even more desperately in love with you.

Belphegor sees your quietness as a challenge. He wants your noises to fill the attic to hide his own desperate, needy sounds. If he notices that you’re trying to be quiet, it only makes him even more determined to see how loud you can be. He wants to hear you beg for him, just to prove that he always gets what he wants - and you’re happy to do that for him, aren’t you? He might tease you about it just to see how you respond—

You’re so desperate for my cock, do you even hear yourself? Fuck, let’s see if you can moan like that again—

But that’s because he wants you to feel as vulnerable as he does.

Diavolo wants to know how well he satisfies you. He wants to erase all your previous lovers and replace them with memories of him and him alone. He wants you to guide him and support him, and love him and accept him for who he is. In return, he’ll be a leader you can be proud of, and a demon you can love wholeheartedly, and the only lover you’ll want beside you or on top of you or inside you. He’s the future demon king that kneels at your feet and worships you with his hands and mouth and cock. The only thing he’ll ever ask is that you never hide how he makes you feel. 

Solomon wants to know you better than anyone else ever will. That means his touches are gentle and exploratory at first, and once he finds something that causes you to moan or whine for more, his smile turns sharp. He does it over and over and over again, so he can see how loud you can be, and how desperate your sounds are, and the types of words you use when you beg him so prettily to let you come. He rewards you for your patience and for being so good for him, and when he fucks you after, you’ll have your chance to learn the desperate noises you drag from him too.

Mephistopheles resisted you for so long, but as much as your human nature irritated him at first, now he’s enamored by it. There’s nothing he wants more than to prove to you that you won’t ever regret choosing him over any of those other demons who pursued you (especially that arrogant bastard Lucifer). Nothing makes him happier (or harder, or hornier) than hearing you whimper his name when you’re caged beneath his arms on his dark, silk sheets. He’ll do anything to hear you say his name like that again (and again and again).

THEY DON’T MIND IF YOU'RE QUIET or THEY’RE QUIET, JUST LIKE YOU

SATAN, BEELZEBUB, BARBATOS, RAPHAEL

If Satan is in one of his calm, happy moods, his lovemaking is sweet and quiet and unhurried. He takes his time exploring your body, mapping the smooth expanse of your skin with his hands and mouth. The soft shuffle of sheets and the creak of his bedframe, and perhaps the quietest of sighs, is more than enough to set his nerves alight.

If Satan is channeling his rage into a more pleasurable outlet, then he’s going to be noisier. You might be too, or you might not be - it doesn’t matter. He can tell by the way your thighs shake around his waist, or the way your fingernails scrape his scalp when you pull him down into a frenzied kiss, that he’s giving you something that no one else ever will.

Beelzebub doesn’t care how loud or quiet you are as long as he can have you as much as he wants. There’s an endless hunger for you that churns deep within him. When he covers your body with his and fucks you with slow but powerful movements, his own quiet noises in your ear are barely noticeable over the sound of the headboard banging against the wall or the mattress springs squeaking beneath you. He growls your name into the crook of your neck when he comes, and he’s more focused on the sound of your heartbeat close to his than anything else.

Barbatos is used to being a silent shadow for his young master, and your quiet manners in bed don't disappoint him or surprise him; he can be very much the same. He sighs at your first hesitant touch, and he murmurs loving praise into your ear when he coaxes both of you towards the precipice of pleasure. He appreciates the other ways you respond to his loving caresses. He places more value in your hot breath against his skin when you pant into his shoulder, or your hands scrambling for purchase along his back or in his hair. (Your soft noises also make it easier to get away with scandalous midday dalliances when he feels especially daring.)

Raphael is not loud or boisterous at the best of times, and when he’s making love to you, it’s no different. He drags his mouth along your skin while he moves inside you, and the quiet grunts or moans that slip past his otherwise occupied lips are muffled against you. He likes to feel the vibrations of your shaky breaths and erratic sighs when his body is pressed flush against your own. When he reaches between your bodies and touches you so you both come together, you can sometimes hear the softest whispers as he chants your name under his breath.

THEY'RE LOUD ENOUGH FOR BOTH OF YOU

MAMMON, LEVIATHAN, SIMEON, THIRTEEN

Mammon is greedy for you - all of you. Every breathy moan or broken cry, every whimper or groan you make. The way your body shakes or trembles or moves with him, or for him, he wants it all. It doesn’t matter how loud or quiet you are, because he knows everything you do in his bed (or in the shower, or in his car, or on any other flat surface) is all for him. It also doesn’t matter how loud or quiet you are because he is sinfully loud. The endless stream of sweet praise that he babbles into your skin or the honeyed filth he growls against your ear is enough to drown you out anyway. You quickly learn that all the noises you make are his, just as all the noises he makes are yours.

Leviathan sometimes wishes you were louder in bed because he gets embarrassed by his own needy, desperate noises. It bothers him at first, and his face is flushed red and he’s sweating and trembling beneath your hands, but eventually he's too overcome with desire to care anymore. When you’re in your room, or in his tub, or laid flat on his desk, he babbles about how good you feel and begs you to tell him how much you want him and he’s desperate for you to tell him you’re his and only his. When he’s close, or when he knows you’re close, his breath hitches and he whimpers and whines because you feel so good, it’s too good, please don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop—

Simeon isn’t necessarily loud, but he’s noisy. He whispers your name with such reverence that it takes your breath away, and he praises you so unabashedly that you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t too cock drunk to care. His sweet words are punctuated by the sounds he makes when you feel too good and he can’t form coherent thoughts anymore. He groans his pleasure into your skin and moans into your kisses, and his breath hitches when your hand or mouth or greedy walls clench around him just right. The noises your bodies make are a constant distraction too - the way his hands brush over your skin, the wet glide of his tongue and mouth against yours, and the soft slapping sounds as his hips move faster and with more desperation against your body. When you’re close, the bed creaks louder when your body moves in sync with his, and it spurs him on even more. He thinks all the noises of your lovemaking are just as lovely as the quiet words or gentle moans you do - or don't - make for him. 

Thirteen isn’t quiet. When she’s not cooing about how cute you are trying to fuck yourself on her fingers, or when she’s not murmuring how good you taste on her tongue, she’s constantly in awe of you. She explores your body so eagerly, and she’s always finding new things to love about it. When she does, she tells you with so much giddy excitement how she found another little secret of yours. She finds all your little birthmarks and moles and scars and everything else that makes you unique. She maps them with her hands and her tongue so she never forgets them, and so that you never forget how much she adores them. She finds the oddest ways to compliment you, usually when you’re half-delirious from pleasure. She grins down at you, or smirks up at you, and she says the sweetest things when she knows you’re too tongue-tied to argue with her about it. 

[buttercandy16]

In-laws

PAIRING: Dark!Agatha Harkness x Reader, Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal

SUMMARY: In-laws are the worst and you found out the hard way.

WARNING(s): Dark themes, Non-con, and a whole lot of SMUT!

A/N: Dark themes ahead. If you find these things disturbing I strongly advice that you skip this post. Thank you!

Y/N POV 

The night's cold breeze is crisp on my face as I stand outside the balcony thinking about how perfect my wedding tomorrow will be. 

Nicky and I have been together since my parents started working for his parents. At first, I was reluctant to engage in a romantic relationship with him since in the eyes of society we were unfit for each other, but he was persistent and in the end, I let love win. I was even more thankful that his parents accepted me and my family with open arms despite our lowly status in life. 

After years of being together, we are finally making it official tomorrow as husband and wife. 

I just finished celebrating my bachelorette party earlier which was neatly organized by one of my soon-to-be mother-in-law, Agatha. While Nicky is having his bachelor's party with his set of friends. 

Everything will be perfect, for sure nothing will go wrong. 

"Excited?" I was pulled out from my thoughts when Agatha appeared by my side with a bottle of wine in hand. 

For the record, I'm currently staying at Nicky's house. Both of his mothers insisted that I stay here before the wedding and I agreed.

"Yeah, I'm so excited to get married to Nicky!" I exclaimed excitedly. 

Agatha gave me a chuckle before waving the wine bottle in front of my face. 

"Good, then we better celebrate with this." 

"Ummm... I don't want to be rude, but I'll have to decline. I don't drink alcohol, remember?"

Agatha rolled her eyes at me before she leaned in closer to my ear. 

"Oh come on, sweetheart. That was different, this one we get to enjoy all to ourselves, and I think it's about time you try right? And it's not like we're gonna get wasted, you'll be fine tomorrow. I swear." 

I suppose... 

"O--okay then, but I'll only drink one glass.”

"One glass is enough" Agatha smiled at me mischievously before slightly pushing me inside the room. 

I was a bit nervous about how she was acting, she seemed pushy. But I was fast to dismiss that thought as she filled our glasses with wine. 

She gave me mine before sitting next to me on the sofa, only an arm's length away from each other. 

"Go on" she urged playfully... 

I swirled the wine in my glass slightly before carefully putting it to my lips and tentatively sipping the liquid. I found it delicious and very cooling.

“This is delicious!" 

"Yes, simple but very soothing. Finest wine you can ever have. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect." 

I eagerly did as I was told, and Agatha seemed satisfied with this. Soon I was holding an empty glass. I had drained it and hadn't even noticed. The drink was that smooth. The only problem is that I found that I was still thirsty. 

"Could I have another, please?" I asked, her eyes glinted with something dark from my request. 

"I think that can be arranged." 

Agatha was careful to replenish my glass whenever it emptied as we talked and talked into the night. 

It was quite odd, no matter how much I drink I still feel thirsty. 

I wondered if it was starting to affect me. I noticed that the room was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body becoming uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flush. My heart was beating very fast and I was practically panting, my breath had gotten so fast. I was starting to sweat inside my clothes, too. My clothes were becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. It was supposed to be a chilly evening. But now, I desire nothing more than to get out of my clothes, then I would feel so much better. 

"Have you and Nicholas done it yet?" Her question almost made me choke on my drink, her eyes never leaving mine. 

Am I hearing this right? Does she mean th--- 

She slowly traced the rim of her wineglass while looking at me curiously, "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Did you have sex yet?" 

Her question slightly took me aback but answered, nonetheless. 

"N--no, we haven't. I'm still pure" 

The moment I said pure, a shadow seems to pass on her features as the corner of her lips slightly lifted sinisterly, barely noticeable in the dark. 

But I saw it... 

She snickered under her breath as she slightly swirled the wine in her glass. 

That's when I realized that she's never touched it. Not even a single drop. 

She followed my gaze to her wine glass before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly. 

She knows that I've noticed. 

I was starting to feel uncomfortable from this so I decided that it was time to retire for the night. But when I stood up, I was immediately met by sudden dizziness making me sit back on the couch ungracefully. 

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave this room. I swayed for just a moment before Agatha caught me. There was nothing I could do now, and as I slowly slumped sideways, she gently tugged on my shoulder, causing me to lie flat, with my head on her lap. Now all I could see was my fiance's mother smiling down at me… and the world went black. 

_=_=_ 

How long I was out, I’m not sure. I opened my eyes, and it took them a moment to adjust to the light.

Something was wrong. 

My arms could not move, despite my best efforts, and the air felt rather cold on my skin. And when my eyes adjusted, I immediately saw why. My wrists had been secured firmly in two straps, on either side of my head. And the cool air on my skin was because I'm completely naked! 

I tried to scream my lungs out, to shout for help, to do anything that might get me out of this situation. But the only thing that came out was a muffled sound. That has something to do with the gag placed over my mouth. But it did draw some attention to me because a figure suddenly appeared over my vulnerable form, and when it spoke, I heard the unmistakable voice of my fiance's mother. 

"So, you're finally awake" 

"I think before you try going off on one, I should probably introduce you to a bit of "context," I think you'd call it." She reached for the table next to her and picked up a remote. She turned on the TV that was positioned just above the bed I was strapped to. "Let's just say you might want to forget about struggling when I show you this video." 

My confusion made me forget my anger, for a moment. But as the film started, and what I was watching became clear to me, my anger was replaced by shock and horror. 

It was a video of me and my co-worker Tony, sitting in my office, and him kissing me. It had been a professional meet-up, he was showing me some files that we needed to sort out before the big presentation when out of the blue he just kissed me. I froze out of shock while his lips continued to press against mine but when I finally snapped out of it I immediately pushed him off me and gave him an ear-deafening slap on the face. But that wasn't shown in the film. It was just the kiss, making it look like I did it deliberately. I remembered him looking at me in pity like he was sorry for what he did. I didn't tell anyone about it, not even Nicky. And now my soon-to-be mother-in-law possesses proof of it.

But how? Why was there a video? Based on the angle I know it was filmed from a hidden camera. Was it done intentionally? For what reason?! Was she behind it? 

If someone got hold of it, I wouldn't just get fired from fraternizing with a colleague. I would probably lose Nicky as well. 

And that scared me shitless... 

Agatha pressed another button, and the video switched off. She looked at my face, now starting to become tear-stained and the fear now plain for everyone to see. She smiled. 

"I think that expression is a good one for you," she remarked. "It makes you look so sweet and innocent." 

She leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn't. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava. 

"Now that no one is going to disturb us, how about we get some fun done?" 

Agatha then began to touch me, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "Aww… such a nice body, pet! I can't help myself but touch myself thinking about you every day. And now, I can't help myself anymore." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg. 

"What should I do first with your body?" She ran her finger on my smooth skin, before taking the gag off my mouth. 

I gritted my teeth from both anger and sadness. "Why are you doing this?" 

"Didn't I already tell you? I want your body to be mine! We are going to have so much fun, pet. And if you disobey me, I think you already know what will happen right? Not to mention, I can get  both of your parents fired, tsk... that would be unfortunate" 

A single tear ran on my cheek and Agatha kissed it, licking the drop. I know that I have no other choice but to let things happen. I have so much to lose if she doesn't get what she wants. 

She moved around and brought our lips together in a violent kiss, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth. She bit my bottom lip hard enough to earn a gasp, allowing her to move her tongue past the barrier. 

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch it could. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events made me horny. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her shirt, skirt, and underwear away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Eat up!" She said in a commanding voice, but I hesitated. The woman gritted her teeth in anger and grabbed my hair. "I ordered you to eat up!" She forced my mouth to get in contact with her entrance. 

Out of reflex, I attempted to close my mouth, but then felt a pair of forces crushing my head from both sides as her legs pressed me. The pain was enough to make me gasp. She took the opportunity to tighten her grip on my hair and pressed me harder. 

"That's more like it!" She started to move her body up and down, making my juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours to work baby" She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I can't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Agatha’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet.

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good. The pleasure coursing through my veins like a blast of adrenaline... 

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my second orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down on me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Agatha kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me to reach something on the nightstand. When I saw what it was, my eyes grew wide as saucers... 

Oh no... please no more 

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled with my bonds as I tried to pull myself away from her. 

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give mommy one more baby. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. The buzzing vibrator held against my clit sped up a notch, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Agatha cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, our foreheads practically touching on the pillow. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, pet,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking cute, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Agatha’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the third time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out. 

_=_=_ 

A groan left my lips when I woke up in the middle of the night with a sore body. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was no longer chained to the bed and I was all alone in the room. 

Seeing this as an opportunity to get the hell outta here I immediately grabbed my clothes that were placed on the vanity chair before frantically dressing. 

No longer caring if I was dressed right I immediately ran towards the door but stopped when it suddenly opened, revealing my fiance’s other mother, Rio Vidal dressed in her expensive suit. 

"Ri-rio..." 

"Sweethear, what are you doing here?" Rio asked as she curiously surveyed my disheveled form. 

"Rio, you have to help me, please" I pleaded as I went closer to her. 

"Why? What's wrong?" She asked as she gently held my arm. 

"It's A–agatha, she---" 

"Hello, my love! You're home early," My words were cut off as Agatha appeared from the bathroom only covered by a plush purple robe. "It seems you caught our little bunny trying to hop away." She smiled devilishly... 

Wha-what? 

"Which is quite fortunate, I wouldn't want to miss out" Rio chuckled darkly. "But I'm very disappointed that you started without me, my love." 

"Well, you were late. It's been so long since I wanted a taste of her. I lost all self-control the moment I had her in my grasp. But don't worry, I saved the best for you." 

My eyes widened in realization and I felt my whole body shiver in fear as I heard the door's lock click. Locking me inside with two predators hungry for my young flesh... 

Nonononono... this isn't happening... 

Tears started to fall from my eyes as Agatha walked over to me, and Rio’s hand settled over my shoulders in a tight and almost painful hold. 

Agatha looked down on me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"Do you know the real reason why we let our son be with someone as lowly as you? It's because the moment we saw you, we knew that we needed to have you. Our perfect little toy." My heart ached from her words. So after all this time, I was nothing but a fool. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you will get married to my son tomorrow and officially become part of our family. You will be a good wife to him and grant him the children he desires. But behind closed doors, you will become our pretty little pet and cater to our needs. Do you understand?" I nodded weakly.

"But the most important thing is... Nicky must never know about this little arrangement of ours. This secret will stay with you until you reach your grave, or else... I'm pretty sure you are aware of the power that we hold Y/N, if you go against us, we will destroy you and your loved ones. Do I make myself clear?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

Agatha's eyes moved from behind me as Rio pressed her lips to my ear as she whispered... 

"If you behave like a good little girl for us, we will reward you with anything you desire, aside from your freedom of course." 

"Since that's all settled then, I think it's time for the main event" 

"Wh-what would that be?" I fearfully asked. 

Agatha smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"We're going to take your virginity baby"

_=_=_

Please don't forget to like, repost, and leave a comment below. I love hearing other peoples thoughts about this. Also, if you have any good ideas for a Dark fanfic featuring mother agatha please do send it. Thanks! 💜

[kumkaniudaku]

Withdrawal Period

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 3.8k

MASTERLIST

Chicago was off the table. No harm done. Crisis averted. 

Enthusiastic courting waned into copy-and-paste follow-up emails a week after Kelvin pushed back against their initial offer with stiff negotiation terms. His mentor always told him not to take the first train coming. You're a black man in a white industry. Make 'em see your worth. They certainly saw something when he returned with an ask for around $10,000 more than the initial salary plus relocation compensation. 

Kelvin didn't hate their offer. It was more than he'd ever made in his life, and it felt fair for his level of experience. But, as he looked up at Asia with her head thrown back in ecstasy while she bounced in his lap, he could think of more than a few reasons to consider other options. 

Call it self-sabotage or plain ol' stupidity – Kelvin didn't care. She was worth a short-term loss for long-term gain. 

Late morning rain pattered against Kelvin's 6th-floor balcony, drowning out the constant ping of work notifications on open laptops. Cold breakfast dishes were abandoned on the counter, hoping their owners would return and finish what they'd started. 

Kelvin sat naked and wide-legged in the center of his couch, totally transfixed by the slow jiggle of Asia's breasts beneath a flimsy tank top she called pajamas. His left thumb dug into her hip crease to keep her rocking body steady, leaving his right hand free to sneak under the soft cotton and satisfy the intense desire to palm one of her fleshy distractions. 

"See, you didn't need me. You got it," Kelvin complimented, guiding his right thumb around her pebbled nipple before letting his jaw fall slack to match Asia's incoming moan. He swallowed to regain waning composure. "Right there, baby. You gon' cum for me?" 

Asia felt her stomach flutter and flip, ushering in a flood of heat between her thighs. She opened her mouth to speak but found nothing but "Ah…" in place of fully formed thoughts. After six days of unrestricted exploration, whole sentences were like needles in a haystack. 

Kelvin wanted to tell Asia how pretty she was, with her lips parted and swollen, while she practiced riding him into the sunset. He would've loved to say something so perfectly and descriptively nasty it put those Zane books he found in his mother's room to shame. If his mind wasn't so clouded with counting every thump, thump, thump of her throbbing core ripping the fabric of time and space, he could've blabbed on and on about how he thought he might be falling in love. 

He wished he could eloquently wrap his myriad feelings into a neat verbal bow, but his usual loquacious nature packed up and left with his common sense. All he could think to do was tug the top of her thin camisole down to free a pair of breasts he needed to get his mouth on. 

Hips bucked in his firm, one-handed grasp, the friction of thigh on thigh creating a deliciously painful burn to mix with a crescendo of pleasure bound to end in two raspy voices hitting the very edge of their vocal ranges. 

Like a Jack in the Box being wound too tight turn by turn, Asia prepared to shoot up in the air from pent-up pressure. Calculated swivels devolved into frenetic humping to satisfy her aching clit. She palmed the back of his head for leverage, pushing more of her nipple into his mouth. 

Kelvin's eyes flitted up to admire the beauty coming undone on top of him. It was cute, but not enough. If they were going to risk Teams bubbles turning from green to yellow, it'd better be worth the hassle of explaining their whereabouts. 

A bear hug with his wrists crossed at the small of Asia's back helped Kelvin keep her body in place as he rutted up into her like a man possessed. He bit into her shoulder, hoping to muffle the peculiar sound fighting to embarrass him in the worst moment possible. 

Broken moans became muffled with a searing kiss dominated by probing tongues until separate but equally explosive orgasms turned healthy 30-somethings into heaving, short-of-breath adults unable to contain competing loud sighs. 

Asia continued to rock into Kelvin, keeping his nose pressed into her clavicle until overstimulation made her thighs quiver beyond her limit. "Okay," she panted. "That one was better than last night." 

"But not better than Wednesday, right?" Kelvin asked as his palms roamed her backside. He put his back into that midweek tryst. No way it'd be usurped before the end of the week. 

"Mm," she hummed, thinking back a few days. "Wednesday loses points because you made me catch a cramp."

Kelvin huffed out a short laugh. "I didn't make you do anything. You gotta start stretching, babe. Eat your potassium. Something. Because I'm not stopping."

"Oh, really?" Asia's voice and eyes were low again to match her lazy grin aimed down at Kelvin. 

He smiled back before leaning up to kiss her lips. "Mm-mm. I like you too much."

"And I love that for you."

Sweet kisses pressed to plush lips in private had become their favorite way to communicate the feelings quickly ballooning past mild fondness. They moved like a couple without official recognition. Union was understood, but they still needed the explanation if either dared sidestep uncertainty and dive head first.

"You love me?" Kelvin asked, his eyebrow arching playfully. 

Asia verbally backpedaled to clarify. "No, no, no. I said I love that for you," she giggled. "I guess you're cool too, though."

Kelvin turned his lips up to hide a budding smile. "Yeah, yeah. Get off me. Some of us have real work to do." he joked before carefully separating their bodies. 

A light tap to her half-naked backside from her lover helped send Asia on her way toward the primary bathroom with giddy laughter and loose hips. Kelvin watched her until she disappeared, so enamored by her hips swaying he nearly forgot about the obligations screaming for his attention across the room. 

He'd felt the unexplainable tingle of joy before. Who hadn't experienced their heart soar from a baby's cherub-faced smile or finding money in their front pocket? The emotion wasn't new, but it was different this time around. Ubiquitous. All consuming like southern humidity in the middle of August. Having Asia in his life was nothing short of the kind of whimsy found in children experiencing the world for the first time. With her, everything was brand new and exciting. He'd go through hell and high water two times over to turn love's embers into a raging bonfire. 

Time apart to make themselves presentable brought them back together for more kisses and fondling that threatened to derail their second attempt at starting the workday. 

A left hand full of ass and a right haphazardly holding an expensive laptop kept Kelvin suspended between two worlds as he stood beside Asia. She leaned into soft kisses on her clothed shoulder while trying to make sense of missed messages. "I need to go home around lunch to get more clothes," she mentioned over quick tapping noises from her fingers dancing across her keyboard. "Need anything while I'm out?" 

"Nope. Make sure you get enough to stay longer this time. No sense in going across the city every two days." 

"You sayin' I should leave clothes over here?" 

Kelvin shrugged once Asia looked back at him to confirm. "Would it be easier for you?" 

"Sure," Asia answered, pondering the appropriate response to such a loaded proposition. "I guess so. Don't let me put you out of your space, though. It's okay for us to be separate sometimes."

"Who said we can't be? Leave some stuff, just in case. Either way, the drawer's gonna be empty if you wanna use it." 

Having spare undergarments and pajamas would make for a less cumbersome commute. More money going to her pockets and not into her gas tank was never a problem. There was certainly no harm in being prepared. Just in case, of course. 

Asia leaned close enough to kiss Kelvin's nose. "Okay. I'll bring a few things back." 

Victory. Kelvin completed an internal happy dance, the only physical manifestation resting in a megawatt smile as he stood straight up to pluck cold hashbrowns from a baking sheet on the stove.

"Make sure one of those is something for tonight," he called over his shoulder. "Still up for the game and a late dinner?" 

"Yeah, of course. Who knows? I might get tipsy enough to let you bend me over the edge of the bed tonight."

Near frigid shredded potato flew to the back of Kelvin's throat, temporarily blocking air from entering and leaving. Asia turned slightly to watch him in amusement until he could choke out a response. "Tonight?" He questioned, eyes practically bulging from his head. "You want to?" 

"Yeah. We can make a stop for extra…supplies. I didn't think we'd run out so fast." 

"You killin' the hell out the turtles, girl. Latex all in the ocean." 

Shock stretched Asia's jaw into an oblong oval. "Wow, so you gon' make me take all the blame? I should –"

Shrill ringing turned Asia's laptop into a blaring siren, reminding her she was a working woman with a long list of responsibilities despite being hours away from the weekend's short-lived freedom. 

Frantic hands shooed Kelvin and his shirtless body out of the camera's view while Asia previewed her surroundings in the pre-meeting waiting room. He reluctantly obliged, shuffling to the other side of the island on his way toward the bedroom to prepare for his own slate of back-to-back virtual connects. 

"Hey, hey." Savannah's familiar monotoned greeting filled the room once Asia connected, her voice far off while she rearranged windows between her monitor and laptop. When she finally looked up, her eyes squinted behind blue-light-blocking glasses. "Oh. I didn't know you were on vacation. What the hell are you doing online? Nice spot, by the way." 

Asia tried to remain cool. "I'm just working away from home today. Trying to get a different view. You know how it goes." 

Across the room, Kelvin complimented Asia's quick thinking with an approving head nod. She kept her face neutral to appease Savannah and to hide the stiff middle finger emphatically shot in his direction.

"No, totally feel that. I swear I've seen those exact cabinets before, though. All these buildings look the same now."

"I know, right. It's like, be original. That's how people get caught up." 

Silent laughter and a sarcastic thumbs-up greeted Asia once her eyes flickered up, working hard to snatch down the veil and expose her off-the-cuff ruse. She shooed Kelvin away without stumbling over her preamble, but not before noticing an air kiss tossed in her direction. 

She pretended to catch it and covertly pressed it to her cheek with a smile. "Alright. Let's jump in."

Home team wins paired well with fruity cocktails and starters shared over Top 40 radio playing far too loud for a restaurant. The only thing missing was the dessert requested before a second round could hit the table.

Asia and Kelvin shared peculiar yet tasty fusion dishes side by side, practically draped over each other, in a dimly lit late-night spot that Kelvin highly recommended. 

"How do you know about all these places? You're like the Black Guy Fieri." 

Kelvin chuckled in between chews of a popcorn shrimp. "I've moved around a couple times. Been a couple places. Might as well explore, right?"

"Ooh, Kelvin lore. My favorite!" The chance to learn more about him had Asia wiggling in her seat like an excitable child. "Tell me more."

Kelvin smiled back at Asia, taking time to admire all of her beautiful features under dim light. She was the girl of his dreams and didn't even know the half. He reached out to brush one of her double bangs out of her face before speaking. "After high school, I didn't know what I wanted to do. My dad was pushing seminary, but I knew I didn't want to be a pastor like him. I thought about music school, but music was just a thing I liked. I didn't love it," he recalled. "I moved to Houston to live with my sister for a year. Ate like crazy out there. Then I let some folks I met convince me to work in Portland before it was cool."

"What was that like," Asia asked, amazed by his journey.

"Shit weather, solid food," Kelvin laughed. "After that, I was a pescatarian with a girl I met during a summer abroad in Brazil. Full on vegan for another girl when I found some work in Miami. Then I came here and buckled down. Found copywriting then…you."

Asia grinned over her glass of water. "What do you plan on being for me?" 

"Honest." Kelvin's candor and steady eye contact stirred Asia's soul in a way she'd never encountered but didn't want to imagine losing. They met each other halfway, lips locking with no regard for patrons and what they might think about two people necking in public. Pulling away, Kelvin wiped away traces of him from Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "You got any more questions for me? 

When can we get the check? "You ever thought about leaving here?" 

His decision to be an honest man wasn't supposed to yield an immediate test. Kelvin immediately and visibly tensed, knocking Asia off-kilter for a millisecond. "Yeah," he answered without much added flare. He leaned forward to grab his glass of water, hoping a long sip could cure his raging bout of anxiety. "I, um…I interviewed recently for something in Chicago." 

"How recently?" 

"Like a week or two ago." Before Asia could ask the question playing behind her eyes, Kelvin stepped in to offer an explanation. "It was before we said what we said last week and hasn't gone anywhere. Nothing to worry about. I promise." 

Asia let her thoughts briefly shift her eyes to a spot on the outdoor patio, then back to Kelvin. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I didn't want to bring it up until I was sure. Plus, we've been kind of busy since then." His joke helped deflate the tension balloon between them, earning an eye roll and smile from Asia. Kelvin gripped her knee and flashed a reassuring smile. "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. We're good."

"I know. I get it. You're supposed to find something that fulfills you." Equally lovestruck smiles turned into puckered lips pressing against each other once, twice, then a third time to seal in deepening attachment. Asia's fingers danced across worn upholstery and up thick cotton to rest her hand on Kelvin's thigh. "Just make sure you don't go too far from me." 

A twinge of something he couldn't place turned Kelvin's low eyes and soft smile into a pensive expression. He could promise monogamy and effort, but sticking to one place was less certain. The constant search for inspiration wouldn't let him settle for long – not while he was still free to roam without the responsibility of family obligations. 

Kelvin watched Asia pull a loaded nacho from a plate at the center of the table, trying to convince himself to breech a difficult topic. "Is that a deal breaker for you?" His question came out as an incomplete thought, forcing him to quickly clarify. "The distance, I mean. Is long-distance a deal breaker for you?" 

"Deal breaker is strong, but I don't think I'd be interested. I think I like having my person a short drive away, you know? I wouldn't want to give that up." 

"Hm." A short grunt, not even a sentence, was all Kelvin could muster from a mind flushed with equal parts relief and dismay. 

Asia didn't seem to catch how he shifted in his spot, and Kelvin didn't allow himself to linger in racing thoughts. Chicago wasn't happening. No need to stew. No need to ask the question burning the tip of his tongue. 

"We could've tried, though. Right?" A mouth that liked to run far too much betrayed him before he could think.

An answer trying to break through all the noise in the room was quickly engulfed in a spectacle of dazzling sparklers and scattered murmurs as a carefully constructed plate of praline mousse and cornflake peanut butter crunch was escorted to their table. 

As she clapped and wiggled in excitement, the childlike joy in Asia's eyes reminded Kelvin that the night wasn't meant for complicated discussions. He had a more pressing question to ask. 

Will you be my girlfriend? The words written in milk chocolate on bright white porcelain weren't enough on their own. They needed a drawn-out monologue shouted on the tabletop with trumpets as a soundtrack fit for a woman who'd knocked the air out of his lungs and put it all back before he could make sense of what exactly they were doing. 

Kelvin leaned in to kiss Asia's cheek and rubbed his nose against the spot before speaking. "Is the drive between my place and yours short enough?" 

"Mhmm," Asia answered. Taking his chin between her index finger and thumb, she leaned in for a kiss he returned with deliberate softness. "I love this. Thank you." 

"You love it enough to say yes?"

"Yes! Yes!" 

Skin slapping against skin sounded like resounding applause in a room fortified with thick cement walls. Thank God for refurbished builds. 

Asia lay flat beneath Kelvin, her face contorted in needy pleasure against one of the pillows she'd claimed as hers while he plowed into her from behind. He'd long lost any semblance of the sweet, gentle Kelvin planning extravagant proposals in swanky establishments. This Kelvin was focused on using his pelvis to put the sweaty, tensing body under his through an expensive pillowtop mattress. 

He pressed his palms deeper into the space on either side of Asia's head for added leverage. "Yeah? You gettin' what you need, baby?" 

"Uh-huh," she moaned out, delirious from a range of sensations. The fullness. Her clit rubbing against the pillow lifting her hips to the perfect height. The precise push and tug of his body inside of hers. The feeling of his lips against her ear once he lowered onto his forearms to grind into her. 

Measured breaths transitioned into shudders quietly released directly into eardrums, feasting on every sound. 

Kelvin mentally cursed the thin material keeping him from fully experiencing the truly mind-numbing effects of good pussy.  The combination of her arousal and a half-empty bottle of tingling lube got him damn close, though. Close enough to edge him toward premature release as he hunched into her until his legs started to give out from exhaustion and the damp spot below them expanded.

He dug into his energy reserve, riding her wave and his with frenzied strokes, rocking their bodies and the bed. Light, airy sighs and a barely audible squelch greeted his senses. "You hear her talkin' to me?" The question came in a low rumble only Asia could hear, turning her brain into mush as her eyes started to roll back. Kelvin smiled. "You think she like me? Hm?" 

"Yeah," Asia answered in a drawn-out breath. 

"I can tell. Look how wet she is for me. I like her, too." His lips found hers to speak directly into her mouth. "Shit, I might love her." 

Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and pulsating walls pushed Asia and Kelvin over the edge within seconds of each other, sending shockwaves from crown to soles and back again. Oxytocin surged. Once lucid, thoughts felt like the loose liquid inside a hot lava lamp. Moans released in tandem became labored breaths from lungs gasping for any air left in the room. Skin grew hot from a lover's embrace. Tight muscles felt sore from overexertion. Still, neither of them was willing to end a night slipping away by the second. 

Asia gulped hard under Kelvin's weight and turned to see more of his face. "I need some water." Her raspy voice made them both laugh. "You got me sounding like fuckin' Doc Rivers." 

"Timeout!" A near-perfect impersonation of the famed NBA coach sent them into a gut-busting fit of laughter amid thick sexual tension. They knew this was only an interlude as Kelvin pulled out of Asia's warmth to roll over on his back and let her free. 

Already missing his touch, Asia shuffled over to rest her naked chest on top of his. He affectionately caressed her behind while she kissed the corner of his mouth. "Don't fall asleep while I'm gone." 

"I closed my eyes one time the other day! It was like two in the morning," Kelvin chuckled. The hand resting on Asia's backside lifted and came back down in the stinging smack she'd grown accustomed to. "Grab me one of those GU packets from the counter? Any flavor." 

"Of course." Tender kisses and a lasting squeeze against one cheek sent Asia on her way, leaving Kelvin to bask in the afterglow of a day growing more legendary by the second. 

Rational thinking would've told him to ignore the tempting glow emanating from his phone resting on the nightstand had he listened. Notifications littering the screen were nothing more than basketball final scores, text messages from his friends wanting the scoop on his night, and emails he'd get back to at some point. A sale reminder from his favorite art supply retailer caught his attention first. That 15 percent off was a godsend; he still had three days to take advantage of in-store savings. 

Kelvin should've put the phone down, closed his eyes despite his promise not to, and listened to Asia slam cabinets like she'd lost her mind while he waited for her to return. He shouldn't have continued to scroll. Stopping short would've saved him from seeing a response to his negotiation email sent during the fourth quarter of their night out with an opening line that looked a little too jovial for a rejection. 

His breathing paused for a second too long, sending him into a coughing fit loud enough to alert Asia in the other room. 

She called out to him. "You okay in there?" 

"Y-yeah," Kelvin sputtered out before tossing the phone to the floor as far away as possible. "I just – oh, shit – I could use that water right now." 

Bare feet padding across hardwood floors reminded him to fix his face before Asia appeared at the threshold with everything needed to keep an unforgettable night going. "Now. Where were we?" Hearing her carefully rehearsed line finally enter the atmosphere made her cringe. "That was corny. I'm sorry. Did I ruin the mood?" 

"Not with you standing there looking like that," Kelvin answered, a smile gracing his face despite the turmoil twisting his stomach in knots.

He beckoned her over, carefully retrieving items from her hands as she lifted herself onto the bed. He needed a distraction, and from the way Asia's body responded to Kelvin's slow kissing against her neck, she was more than willing to take his mind off the truth becoming abundantly clear. 

Chicago was still on the table. Harm may be done. Crisis not averted.

Reply if you'd liked to be tagged. DM if you’d like to be removed.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @thevelvetwhispers @wowitsafemale @kindofaintrovert @sexysativa605 @jvzmine19 @turn-thy-paige @lapateeserie @simplyzeeka @supremechae @palmstreesallday @blackmoonchilee @ovohanna24 @prettypynklemonade @gwenda-fav @itsash-okay @sparklytemi @blackchickinthedesert @miyuhpapayuh

[catmiemy]

Not Work Day (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

Summary: Aitana and you spend a rare day off together.

A/N: This is just a silly little story I thought of a while ago and finally wrote in hopes of getting into more of a writting mood again. So many ideas and so little ability to put them on 'paper' lately...

I hope you enjoy this one! :)

Dating a professional football player wasn’t always easy. Whenever you mentioned that to anyone they usually assumed you referred to your girlfriend having to travel a lot or the lack of days off together because of conflicting schedules, or the interest the nosey media and even nosier public had in your relationship.

And sure, all of these things could be tricky at times, but there was something else that was even harder to bear; seeing your girlfriend being worked to the ground with almost no time to recuperate properly. Before you started dating Aitana you had never thought much about it, now it haunted you during the days and disturbed your dreams.

Every new injury you heard about made your stomach drop, always wondering the same thing, what if next time it would be your girlfriend going down with some horrible injury? The guilt always followed close behind, with your berating yourself for being happy in any capacity that someone else got hurt.

More often than not it was a struggle to watch Aitana’s games. You had a tendency to clench every single muscle in your body until the final whistle was blown, and you could be sure that nothing bad had happened.

For a while you did your best to keep these concerns to yourself, not wanting to make Aitana worry about you unnecessarily. Convinced that if you just wanted it enough, you would get over this.

You should have known that your girlfriend would catch on; she was too perceptive not to notice it, too concerned about your well-being to miss it.

When she did you explained somewhat reluctantly what was bothering you; the last thing you wanted was for your girlfriend to feel guilty. This wasn’t her fault at all and she shouldn’t feel bad about playing the sport she loved.

Despite your best efforts to downplay it, the first thing you saw in Aitana’s eyes once you finished your explanation was guilt. Most likely because you were looking for that emotion specifically, but in that moment you couldn’t think rationally like this. You were about to apologize, try and take it back somehow, when she asked you one simple question.

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better about it?”

Up until that point it had never occurred to you to think about possible ways to make the situation easier for yourself. Usually your thoughts had been centered around scolding yourself for being such a worrywart. It made you oddly emotional that Aitana took you this seriously and didn’t dismiss your concerns.

Neither of you found a satisfying answer to the question that night, but over time you came up with something that helped, a tradition that you called ‘not work days’. 

On one of these ‘not work days’ you were awoken by Aitana trying to get up. Without opening your eyes you reached out to grab her wrist and pull her back into bed. You were met by some resistance, forcing you to open your eyes and scowl at the brunette.

“Hey, you work or not work?” You asked, leaving no room for interpretation what the correct answer was.

Aitana rolled her eyes at you, but relented, snuggling back into you much to your delight. You wrapped your arms around her and buried your face in her shoulder.

“I’m never going to be free of that stupid phrase, am I?” She grumbled.

“Nope,” you agreed, “And now hush, it’s way too early to be up on a not work day.”

You felt some lingering tenseness in your girlfriend’s body, apparently she wasn’t fully ready yet to commit to resting some more. It was time to pull out your magic weapon; you began gently tracing small circles in the space between Aitana’s eyebrows. It worked like a charm. Within seconds the brunette fell back asleep and you let yourself drift off as well.

The next time you woke up it was on your own accord, like you hoped it would be. Usually when you managed to get your girlfriend back to sleep she didn’t wake up again until late in the morning. In your mind a clear indication that the Spaniard needed this extra rest.

You allowed yourself to linger in bed a little longer to hold Aitana in your arms and watch her sleep. It was rare for her to be still if she was awake, always moving around, busy with one thing after another.

Mostly the midfielder loved it and was happy with her life, but sometimes it became all too much. She had confided in you a while back that being with you had helped her to finally find a healthy balance in her life. That was without a doubt the biggest compliment anyone had ever given you.

After a few more minutes you placed a soft kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead, before carefully extracting yourself and moving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Breakfast in bed was a staple of the not work days..

You hummed happily to yourself while you made an omelet, mixed a smoothie and cut up some cherry tomatoes. And of course you couldn’t forget about the coffee! When everything was ready you walked back to the bedroom, ready to wake up Aitana with some gentle cuddles.

However, your plan was thwarted. You opened the door and instantly spotted your girlfriend on her cell phone. This in itself wasn’t a problem, but the way she had crunched up her nose and her eyebrows were knitted together, revealed to you that she was most likely looking at something work related. She looked too stressed for this to be anything else.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, “This is a not work day!”

You expected the Catalan to smile at you apologetically, instead a huge grin appeared on her face and she turned her phone around. It took a moment until you realized why she had done that; your girlfriend was recording the entire interaction and apparently she thought this was hilarious.

“Haha, very funny,” you grumbled, “I really thought you were working already.”

“I know, you should have seen your face,” Aitana replied between laughter, “Oh wait, you can. Come over here, mi amor.” She patted the bed next to her, but you remained standing. You would have crossed your arms, but the breakfast tray was stopping you from doing so.

“Don’t be like that, mi amor. I’m only giving back what you’ve been handing out. Or do I have to remind you how often you’re sending me that stupid ‘You work or not work’ video? How you even added some cute animal pictures to the beginning of it, so I wouldn’t recognize right away what clip it is? You violated the sanctity of cute animal pictures!”

The midfielder sounded so scandalized by this that you couldn’t help but crack a smile. You shuffled over to the bed, leaning over to give your girlfriend a good morning kiss. Just like you hoped this successfully distracted her from the stupid video she had recorded because you had no interest in watching it. You were admittedly better at teasing than being teased.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Aitana asked, tucking into her breakfast. “This is so good by the way.”

“No plans, we just do whatever you want to do,” you responded, deliberately ignoring her praise. Dealing with compliments also wasn’t one of your strengths.

“Whatever I want?” The Catalan asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Everything that’s within the rules of not work days,” you clarified.

“But coming up with ideas is work too,” your girlfriend complained.

“My poor baby! Okay, here are some ideas; we can bundle up on the couch and watch a movie, we can make cookies, we can take a walk in the rain…”

“Yes! Let’s take a walk in the rain,” Aitana interrupted, her choice surprising you. The midfielder wasn’t known for liking the rain, in fact she made no secret of how much she hated the rain.

“Really?” You double-checked.

Your girlfriend nodded, “Yeah, you made it sound so romantic a few days ago. Both of us under one umbrella, the rain pattering on it, huddling close together for warmth. Sounds like a movie scene.”

“Okay then, let’s do it.”

The two of you got ready, Aitana putting on much more clothes than you. Normally you would tease your girlfriend about it, but you didn’t want to risk her remembering the video she had taken earlier.

In the beginning the walk was actually romantic. The sound of the pitter patter on the umbrella was soothing, especially with how quiet and deserted the roads were. You breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of rain. Aitana was snuggling into your side and when you looked over she had a soft smile on her lips.

Before too long however, you noticed that your girlfriend clung a little too strongly to you and she was dragging her feet. This time when you glanced her way you were met by an unhappy expression, though it quickly morphed into a forced smile as soon as Aitana noticed your eyes on her.

You pulled her to a stop. “What is it, babe?”

“My feet are wet,” the Catalan whined.

Your eyes snapped to her feet. Your girlfriend was wearing her favorite and already pretty worn sneakers. It wasn’t really surprising that they weren’t able to withstand the rain anymore.

“Then let’s go back home,” you stated, already turning around and tugging Aitana’s hand to follow you.

“No, I don’t want to ruin this.”

You turned to face the midfielder again, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“And I don’t want you to be miserable, or worse get sick. And anyway this is your not work day, so you should only do things you’re enjoying.”

Aitana nuzzled slightly into your palm, smiling up at you. “Okay, but I disagree, it’s our not work day.”

You walked back rapidly to your apartment and when you got there you sent the brunette to the bedroom with the instruction to change into something comfy and get rid of her wet socks.

“Don’t put on other ones though! I have something for you,” you added.

A few minutes later you met Aitana back at the couch, a cup of tea in one hand and the other one hidden behind your back. Your girlfriend craned her neck, trying to sneak a peek, but you didn’t allow it.

“Show meeeee,” the Catalan begged.

You followed the request, showing her the fluffy socks you had bought a while back. A huge smile spread across Aitana’s face as she saw them.

“They look so comfortable. Thank you! But how did you know I would need them?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I didn’t. I just bought them randomly for a not work day. It’s pure luck that you got wet feet today.”

“Or maybe this was all part of an elaborate evil plan to get me to undress my feet in front of you,” Aitana joked.

“You got me there. That’s why I raved about walks in the rain and that’s why I suggested it this morning. I even sabotaged your shoes,” you explained with a serious face.

Your girlfriend giggled happily. “I guess in that case you’ve earned the right to put on the new socks and give me a foot rub afterwards,” she said, sticking her feet out towards you.

“How generous of you!” You exclaimed, quickly putting on the fluffy socks.

Then you went to sit down next to Aitana to give her the requested foot rub, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw the midfielder glaring at you.

“Everything okay?” You asked uncertainly.

“No!” The brunette cried out, making your heart beat faster; what had you done wrong? “I need you to change into comfortable clothes as well. This doesn’t look like a good outfit to relax in.”

You looked down yourself and only now realized that you were still wearing jeans. “Oh, I guess you’re right.”

Before you got a change to move away, Aitana caught your hand and pulled you in for a kiss. “Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t realize it would actually make you anxious,” she apologized. “And now go, I need my girlfriend to warm me up.”

You were happy to oblige, hurrying to the bedroom.

“And can you bring the laptop back with you? I’m in the mood for some online shopping,” Aitana shouted after you.

You were happy to do so since it signified that your girlfriend had fully gotten into the swing of the not work day. It was always the same; in the beginning she didn’t know what she wanted to do, but as time progressed the midfielder became more attuned to her own desires that she so often put on the back burner.

On your return you handed Aitana the laptop before plopping down by her feet, taking them in your lap for the promised foot rub. You hadn’t even started yet, when your girlfriend let out a surprise “Oh”, pulling her feet back and scooting closer to you instead.

“What are these?” She asked, showing you the screen with your last internet search. It had completely slipped your mind what you had been looking at the day before.

“Dresses,” you offered up dryly.

“Yeah, I can see that. Any special occasion?” Aitana probed.

“You know the answer to that. It’s not every day you get to accompany your girlfriend to an award show for the best football players in the world,” you replied nervously; although you didn’t know why you felt nervous about this.

“Aw, I really appreciate that!” Your girlfriend cooed, her eyes flickering over the screen, “Can I help pick?”

You nodded; that had always been the plan. Since this was the first time you were going along as Aitana’s partner you wanted to look your best, so another opinion was definitely needed.

“Some of them are pretty expensive,” the Catalan mentioned carefully.

Money had always been a touchy subject between the two of you. Aitana had a lot more of it than you did; still you didn’t feel comfortable with constantly letting her pay, insisting that you took turns. The brunette wasn’t too happy about that, but by now you had found some middle ground, usually going to less expensive places when it was your turn to pay.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you dismissed Aitana’s concern, “And I want to look worthy of my girlfriend. You know she’s currently the best football player in the world?”

“You sound so proud of me.”

Atiana’s voice was oddly quit; it made you wonder if she doubted that you were proud of her. You thought back to the last few games and realized with a start that you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually said these words. This way worrying, especially considering your girlfriend had a hard time believing things unless she heard them over and over again.

“That’s because I am,” you responded firmly, vowing to do better.

“Even if it makes you anxious?” The brunette wondered.

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Let’s be honest, no matter what job you had, I would always be anxious about something. That’s the annoying thing about anxiety; it’ll always find something else to worry about.”

Aitana looked up at you hopefully, “So you don’t hate that I’m a footballer?”

“What? No, of course not! And I’m sorry if I made you feel like that,” you apologized.

“Well that’s good then,” your girlfriend announced, a smirk appearing on her face, “But hey, is working out issues even allowed on a not work day? Or did you just break your own rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course it’s allowed and since they’re my rules, I can change them whenever I want.”

Aitana raised her eyebrows, fighting to keep her face neutral, “Oh really, is that how it works?”

“Yes,” you nodded sagely.

A devilish grin appeared on your girlfriend’s face, and too late you recognized your mistake.

“In that case I’m making my own rules as well and decide that I get to buy you this blue dress.” She pointed to the one that was your absolute favorite, but that was also firmly out of your price range.

“Aitana,” you groaned, “That’s not how it works!”

“Oh? If you can make up random rules, so can I,” the Catalan pointed out, daring you to disagree with her.

“That’s not the same at all. I don’t want you to spend money on my clothes,” you argued

“Why not? If you think about it, I’ll get to appreciate your dress much more than you. I can admire you in it all night long, and maybe I’ll even get to take if off of you. And this dress will look stunning on you; it will really bring out your eyes.”

“Fine”, you relented, making your girlfriend squeal happily. There was one more thing to say though, so you stopped Aitana’s over the top celebration with one hand. “But this means you can only get me something small for my birthday.

“Okay,” the midfielder agreed suspiciously quickly.

“And I mean that, Tana!” You doubled down.

Your girlfriend nodded, but seemed to be only half-listening, too busy adding the dress to your cart. You would just have to bring it up again when your birthday was closer because you wouldn’t be budging on that.

After Aitana successfully ordered the dress, she leaned back with a content sigh.

“I really love these not work days, you know?”

Your heart leapt happily at that concession.  “Me too, babe.”

Sometimes you wished you got more of them, but maybe not having them all the time made them extra special.

[winterzsurprise]

Taking care of you || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel comes home after a rough week and a half out of his universe and you decided that the only way to take care of him was to web him down.

Tags: NOT BETA READ, SMUT, bondage, overstimulation, denied orgasms, multiple orgasms, blowjob, blindfolds, he bites you and paralyzes you, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), big dick Miguel, sub Miguel (ig??? he still try to get the upper hand throughout)

Words: 2k

I was struggling because all the words I know are aggressive because I watch gaming streamer (Quackity & Roier) and I don't think moaning pendejo or chinga tu madre is very sexy.

Spanish speakers, tell me what moanable curses you guys have, it's for science (I am begging u)

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi amor - my love || dios mio - my god || mierda - shit || puta madre - motherfucker

When Miguel came home after a long week and a half, he’d expect a heartful meal to consume before passing out on a warm bed beside you. To get bound on the chair with a special web fluid designed to keep him down in the dimly lit apartment is not one of those expectations.

Being a Spider-Man with no spider senses, his first instinct was to break out of the binds, calming down and unmasking once he caught a whiff of your scent.

“Mi vida? What are you planning this time?”

“Nada, is it a crime to want to take care of you?”

Your touch burned through his suit as you dragged your fingers across his chest. After days without being to see nor feel your presence near him, the desire in his chest grew from a pea sized to universal.

“I’ll give you thirty minutes to finish what you planned before I break out of this shit.”

You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look over his shoulder where you stood so mysteriously with no indication of your clothing visible to his eyes.

“You won’t.”

Miguel chuckled. “Why not? I can probably break out of this if I want to.”

“I’ll go back home to my dimension for a month and you wouldn’t even be able to find me since you’d be busy with work.”

He frowned, cursing under his breath to which you giggled at.

“Are you going to break out, mi amor?”

He said nothing, turning away bitterly and you took it as a win. 

“Now, let me take care of you.”

When your lips first touched his neck, a spark went off in his veins. He grunts as your hands start roaming his chest with feather-light touches, forcing him to retract the suit to be able to feel your warmth on his skin to complete the gaping hole in his chest.

There was something about Miguel being tied up, hopeless and responsive to your touches as depravity clawed at his chest.

The frustrated groan when you pulled away to reposition yourself to sit on his lap told you everything you knew, the tent poking you when you sat on him was also a confirmation. Placing a kiss on his cheekbones, you pulled out the blindfold from your pockets and he groaned.

"Really?"

"Oh shush."

You've read somewhere about blindfolds enhancing the experience as a whole, something about taking out one sense amplifying the others and decided to try it out tonight.

And Miguel having sharper senses than most Spider people only made your plan irresistible to not do.

Tying it around his eyes, you find yourself enamored with how vulnerable and submissive he looks right now.

"Darling, you look so pretty like this."

He scoffed. "I would look better on top of you, cariño."

"Fair enough."

Unbuttoning his shirt, you placed light kisses on every inch of skin exposed to your eyes while he'd sigh at the feeling of your lips on him. You weren't able to unbutton it all nor push it away due to the webs but you deemed it perfect as long as his pecs and some parts of his collarbones are out in the open.

Turning your attention to his pants, you captured his lips with yours and it instantly grew heated with a hunger not even a meal alone can satisfy. Pulling his fly down, your hands rose to tug at his hair to which he groaned, a reaction you've never had in the past.

Is it really effective?

Pulling away, you tugged on his waistbands and pulled them down to reveal his girth standing at full attention leaking with pre-cum.

"Fuck… touch me."

“You’re not in control here.”

Even then, you wrapped your hand around his dick and even that alone got his breath stuck to his throat.

Maybe you should bring the blindfold more often…

Pumping him leisurely, he threw his head back, melting into the chair, thighs spreading wider as the enhanced ecstasy spiked his veins, stirring every fiber of his system awake.

"Mierda, th-that feels so good…" 

The sight of his glistening chest heaving heavily as sweat beads on his forehead is enough to make your nose bleed till the next year. A memory forever ingrained in your mind. 

You trailed kisses on his collarbones and up to the side of his neck. Miguel's streams of mumbled Spanish curses and shaky exhales should be classified as a drug with how addicted and how greedily you were engulfing every noise he makes.

"You look so pretty like this baby, it makes me want to tease you a little."

He said nothing, reveling in the nirvana you offered him so generously. His hips struggled and writhed in the small space he was allowed to, chasing his promised euphoria with desperation.

But before he could notify you, you unmounted him and he let out a frustrated groan. Miguel was about to rip the binds until you got to your knees, only to web his feet to the chair legs as well and he grew more tempted to do so.

"Come on! Even the feet?"

"Gotta secure the package, darling."

Placing chaste kisses on his weeping head, the complaints died down in his throat. You then laved your tongue around his slit, gathering as much of his pre-cum and he groaned, dick twitching in your hold. His taste is heavy on your tongue and you moan.

You missed him on your tongue.

Taking his whole cockhead, Miguel flinched, arms struggling behind him as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked hard while circling your tongue around his girth, providing him multiple sensations surrounding his girth.

"Dios mio, remove this blindfold. I wanna see you." He said, almost begging. "Please?"

"No, you look prettier this way."

Your hands stroked the places your mouth couldn't reach and Miguel's thighs trembled. His pants and borderline whimpers sounded like a sweet melody, the sight of his perspired skin glistening under the moonlight with his head thrown back burning itself at the back of your lids.

You'd stop at nothing to be able to see him like this again.

Then you heard a snap from the webs and you halted, pulling away to his absolute dismay.

"No no no no, ay puta madre—"

"Stop struggling and maybe I will continue."

He didn't say anything, his fuzzy mind struggling to conjure any good bargain to bring up.

"R-remove the blindfold then I'll consider."

"Nope."

He groaned, almost whiny and you grinned. Miguel slowly settled down, suppressing himself from breaking more threads. Once you deemed him behaved enough, you dipped down to take him in once more.

Relaxing your mouth, you sink in another inch of him before descending as further as you could go and pumping the other areas you knew you couldn't reach. The groan that left his lips was guttural, almost animalistic.

"Fuck, I'm near. Deeper cariño, I know you can do it."

Pinching his shaking thighs, you quickened your strokes while waiting for any tell tale of his climax. When his breathing picked up and his abdomen pulsed, you pulled away.

And Miguel whimpered.

And he realized it a little too late, cheeks darkening as he groaned in embarrassment.

"You did not hear that."

You laughed lightly. "But it was cute."

"Fuck your cute and pretty bullshit, why did you pull away?!"

You grinned. "I liked seeing you struggle."

"Ripping this off gets very tempting every passing second."

"I'll run away and don't think I won't do it."

The sound of you shedding off your shorts stopped him from mumbling incoherent complaints. You swung your leg over his thighs and placed yourself above his weeping dick. With his sense of smell

"Don't break from the webs, alright? If you do—"

"You'll run away, I know. Just fucking get on with it."

"So impatient, what if I don't do anything at all?"

"I will break off these chains and take you on the floor. Don't tempt me." He growled, pushing his arms out, stretching the webs as a demonstration.

Rolling your eyes, you lined him against your heat and sank down, the hardest part of your plan for the evening. Despite trying your best to stretch yourself out earlier before his arrival along with the drenched state you're in, it proved useless with how difficult it was to have him.

You hissed as the burn of the stretch lit your veins on fire and Miguel grunted, arms twitching at his sides.

"St-stop clenching so hard!"

"Not my fault you have a big dick!"

As you take in more of his inches, Miguel grew crazy at the warm tightness surrounding him reawakening the denied orgasm earlier. The blindfold taking away his sight only magnified the pleasure flooding his system to the brim. The coil in his abdomen tightened and he threw his head back, absolutely light-headed and drunk on ecstacy.

"Le-let me bite you, yeah? It'll go away. Fuck…! I'm so close..."

You didn't second guess his intentions, falling to his shoulder with your neck bared to his lips. Trusting your Spider-Man genes, he spared no time leaning down and sinking his fangs into you.

You gasped at the feeling of his incisors piercing your skin as your mind grew fuzzy and your body numbed itself to paralysis. Miguel, desperate for his climax, plunged his entire length into you before thrusting savagely in and out of your heat.

The sound of a hundred threads ripping off cuts through the air, his arms surged from behind the chair to curl around you. His heavy exhales, borderline whines, made your brain short circuit as he chased after his denied orgasms ferociously.

Panting openly on your shoulders with your name vaguely murmured like a mantra, you moaned at his sounds as he came with a shout, the feeling of his liquid arousal spurting into you made you shiver with delight but the shaking thighs beneath you only fueled your arousal further.

"F-fuck…! Thank you cariño. Mierda..." 

The paralysis ebbs away while Miguel continues to convulse, albeit weaker than before. Mouth hung open as he threw his head back, hands falling to your waists.

"How rude, you didn't even consider my pleasure, mi amor."

His grip on your sides tightened as you bounced on his dick and he faltered, trembling as he gasped and groaned at the overstimulation nipping at his senses. His hands tapped your thighs, asking for some rest and you slowed, waiting for him to use your safeword.

When he didn't, you picked up your previous pace and grinned.

"But when I did that, did you stop, cariño?"

He didn't answer as streams of Spanish curses and colorful words escaped his mouth. 

"Exactly, so take it like a king, alright? Maybe I'll forgive you for getting off the web."

You rolled your clit in tight and fast circles, growing merciful for him as his sounds turned into whimpers and pleads. The sinful sight of his sweaty self blindfolded and body intoxicated by ecstasy along with his beautiful noises was enough to bring you to the edge.

With a few strokes and rolls of your beads, you came. Warmth explodes from your chest to your fingertips and you let yourself sag to his shoulder whilst he grunted at the stings of overstimulation still mouthing at him as your walls pulsed around him.

"Fuck…! G-get off…"

He didn't even manage to get his sentence out when he exploded again inside of you and practically lost consciousness with how lax he turned beneath you.

Concerned, you tapped his cheeks. "Baby, are you still there?"

It took a while but he eventually answered, removing the blindfolds himself to peer up at you with glazed eyes. "Barely… You won't leave right?"

"Yeah, I was joking."

"Alright…"

You smiled, placing kisses on his forehead, cheeks, and lips. Miguel's face bloomed at this, grinning slightly.

"You did so well, darling."

He only nods. "I'm confiscating that solution by the way, you're not webbing me up again."

[dansroo]

TAKE THEM OFF. Jayce Talis x reader.

⤷ Tired of monotony, there is nothing that his faithful partner can't fix.

content; nsfw. male!reader. dom!reader. sub!needy!jayce. secret relationship. masturbation through clothes. light overstimulation. dirty talk. teasing. semi-public. mention of body fluids. slight mention of huge cock. so messy and loud jayce. mention of women flirting with you and a little jealousy!jayce. wc; 1.6K

Do you know that famous GIF from a 1997’s movie called "Wilde"? Just so you can understand the position a little better. ;)

a/n; hi!!, I hope you had a good time at the holidays, in my country they haven't finished yet haha. btw, I wanted to release this that I had in mind before continuing with the requests. english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

The significant effect you have on him was something that remained difficult to explain, even to himself.

The scent of your perfume clouded his mind, causing most of his thoughts to become blurred, transforming into only one that was recurrent—the carnal need he has for you. He wanted to feel you touching him properly, that you stop teasing him over his clothes. Even if it was something foolish to ask, he had already cummed for the second time inside his pants.

Just for a couple of caresses and words in the ear.

No one out there had any idea of what was happening in here. The same ordinary and frequent talks, pretending that they were even a little interested in each other's life or well-being. Hypocrisy. It was all about income, money, convenience.

Drinking the most expensive wine while ensuring a good impression. To have everyone you could on your side.

But he didn't have to spend the rest of the night in a pretentious gala if he had you by his side. His most faithful partner—or at least that was what they used to whisper to each other on every corner.

He wasn't going to spend it either looking at the way those women touched you. So supposedly innocent, when their flirtation could be seen from miles away. Fingers slid all over your arm as they leaned close to you, pressing. They almost made him choke on his drink more than once. It wouldn’t be weird for anyone if you and he got away from the rest, right?

The way it was so easy for you to make him melt in your hands was worth studying.

“Does it hurt?” he managed to hear your voice, muttering close to his ear.

Your hand caressed his thigh, torturously slow. He took a deep breath when you reached the groin, stopping you just a couple of centimeters away from his clothed erection. Of course, it was starting to hurt; the constant pressure inside his pants was hell, he needed you to release him.

He nod shakily, desperately fast.

He knew he would be a complete mess by the time you were done with him—a trembling, whining, and whimpering mess—as if he wasn't already; and he honestly didn't mind. Hell, he wanted it. He wanted it badly.

“Come on, what happened to using your words?” a pleasant chill ran through his body, feeling the way your thumb left soft and ‘innocent’ caresses on his thigh “You are perfectly capable of speaking, aren't you? You love it.” you whispered to him, your tongue making a small and mocking emphasis on the last word. “Or has your brain stopped working?”

“I'm sorry… ugh-… It hurts, it fucking hurts…” he whined, just as you had thought. He was loud; he didn't tend to hide when something truly made him feel good—when you make him feel good—and it was something you loved. It was so satisfying not have to ask to hear him; you would prefer a thousand times ask him to be less loud than not hear his beautiful voice break into prayers and pathetic whines. “Please, please just- take them off.”

If it were possible, you could listen to him all day.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” you heard him gasping loudly against your ear while you touched him again—always over his clothes. His fluids had managed to penetrate the fabric perfectly, leaving an embarrassing stain on his crotch along the way.

You squeezed it, making him moan almost out of breath. He moved on your lap, his back arching slightly. The hand that was gently holding the back of your neck moved a little lower, taking you firmly by the collar of your shirt. You inevitably smiled. “You really like it, don't you?”

“Oh, yes, please don’t stop… please don’t-”

Your hand didn't move anymore, teasing with him. Testing how long it would take him to stand being without your touch—without feeling you. Although deep down, you already had the answer.

He waits, waits patiently. His groans reach your ears later, as you appreciate the way he tries to hide the need, the craving.

Sometimes you were surprised that this same man was the great Man of Progress. The same one they were just talking about outside, just a couple of corridors away.

He was so desperate for some friction that his hips began to move, rubbing against your hand. “What would the Council say if they saw you like this?” you searched for his eyes once he stopped hiding in the hollow of your neck, chuckled softly when he looked away from yours. You bit your lip, taking the time to observe his face—which had remained hidden from you until now—his half-open lips, from which only incessant moans emerged.

Admiring every little inch of his vulnerable expression, focused on keeping your hand close to him taking you by the wrist.

His great and appreciated golden boy.

“If only they knew the way you moan like a whore for me.”

He let out a hoarse moan, beginning to move faster against your hand. You bent down, leaning close to his face. He looked so beautiful, completely submitting to you and letting you see him in a way nobody else was allowed to. His messy hair, his messy neck, his weak breathing -God, just looking at him was making your head swirl and your heart pound.

"You look so pretty, so weak… so breathless and all mine.” Jayce shuddered at your words, silently loving the idea of belonging to you and only you. He wanted you to do whatever you wanted to him, to just let yourself go and take out all that pent up stress and desire. “I could just admire you like this forever.” the way he was so needy for you was absolutely perfect.

“God- I love the way you talk to me.”

There was not a sound he loved more in the world than the tone of your voice, speaking to him so sweetly or even in the dirtiest way possible—he didn't care as long as it was you—your laughter, your ramblings, your praises... searching for you without wasting a second if he thought he heard you, you stole his breaths, you stole his heartbeats, you stole his thoughts; he was simply addicted.

“Are you cumming again?” you observe him, the sweat starting to form on his forehead. He looks at you through his eyelashes, a gaze so lustful and fragile that it is enough for you to understand everything.

His hand clung tighter around your wrist, pushing against you, slowly, making sure that his entire and huge crotch pressed against your fingers. Looking at his face writhing with expressions of pure lust.

“Ah- fuck! I can't... I need it- I just need you-” he whimpered, his words coming out breathlessly as he pleaded to you. Touching was no longer enough, he needed to feel you inside, he needed more of than simple touches. “Please, fill me- I don’t care I-” he groan, his hips slowly losing the rhythm.

His forehead rested on yours. Breathing so erratic that it took him a moment to regulate it decently, his eyes remained closed while the grip on your wrist began to loosen—it was wet, almost sticky. You laughed softly as you took the time to rest against him too, closing your eyes and listening to his breathing.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, the tone of your voice coming out a bit worried. You opened your eyes, looking at him shaking his head. “Do you really need to cum?”

He nodded, a small, trembling breath leaving his lips as he spoke up again.

"Yes!- Yes, just… one more, please.”

“Are you sure about that?, I feel like you're going to faint in my arms.” you laughed, stealing a laugh from him too. “Just do it, it will be worse later.”

You took one last look at the office door. You both knew that you also needed some help, you wouldn't walk out there with an erection in your pants.

And honestly you didn't know what Jayce would do with that notorious stain on his.

Your eyes scanned the entire office. The big shelves were full of books and small decorations that you could tell—In fact, you already knew—were ridiculously expensive. The paintings of different sizes hung on the walls, but the darkness did not allow you to distinguish who they were. The large window, framed small rays of the moon visible among the clouds.

Oh.

There was a very beautiful desk too. Wide and thick enough. This person wouldn't mind if their desk was used as a place to fuck, right?

Fuck it, almost no one at this party liked you enough.

You shared a glance with Jayce, who had already been watching you, knowing perfectly what you were thinking.

.

.

.

The sharp sound of her heels echoed with every step as she took a short sip from the golden cup between her fingers. Turned to the right when she reached the end of the corridor, bumping into the extravagant threshold that welcomed the elegant gala.

Firm posture, demonstrating confidence and control. Utilizing the great weight of her name by standing with the rest of the Council.

“You found them?”

She nodded, watching at the rest of the people talking at the nearby tables “Talking about business.”

"I didn't know that talking about business took so long." the blond man declared, the discomfort prominent in his voice, fingers reaching for another glass of dessert wine from the tray of a passing waiter.

She smirk “You know, Progress.”

Progress was quite an interesting concept for Mel.

© dansroo.2025.

[ppssession]

Mystic Shop:Shortcut to success

The path as an actor is quite difficult, that is something I understand very well.Okay, but what I don't quite understand is that almost six years have passed and I still haven't made any progress.

The voice in the head of Has, an ordinary-looking young man, is thinking while working on the set of the film.

He graduated from the Faculty of Acting and majored in acting many years ago. He was praised as a very talented actor by both his teachers and friends, but his chance to act was overlooked simply because he looked ordinary.

While he was thinking about the past, he saw a handsome young man who was the main character in this group.

Raven, the handsome young man who was the hero of this filming, made Ash a little unhappy because Ash could clearly see that his acting ability was very low. He acted stiffly like a robot, or maybe a robot could act better than that. Ash could only think to himself.

After the group of people left, Ash could only hold back his dissatisfaction as he walked along the quiet street, and then he heard someone shout, "Hey, big brother, come in."

เHe turned to look at the source of the voice and saw a handsome young man wearing a simple waiter's uniform calling him into a strange shop. The sign in front of the shop said, "We can help you change your life." As he walked into the hot room, he heard sweet words.

Do you want to be successful? It seems like you are taking a long time but the results are not coming to you yet?

The young employee asked openly.

Not arrogant about anything, Hass admits, “Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve had that opportunity.”

Then you're in luck, we can help you. The young clerk turned under the counter and picked up a leather jacket.

This is a special jacket that allows the wearer to possess his or her body just by wearing the jacket as part of him or her.

We will put your soul into the jacket ourselves. You will fall asleep and wake up in your new body. Do you agree?

Hearing that, Hass was interested, but he had a question. “If I put my soul in it, will I be able to make my new body wear this jacket?” Hass asked suspiciously, but the clerk smiled playfully before answering.

“Of course, our shop will take care of everything.” So to guarantee that we will make you into the shape you want, we will not charge you upfront, but you can pay when it is done. How about this?”

Hus saw nothing bad when the employee just reached out his hand to make a deal. He shook hands with the employee. “I agree.” When their hands shook, it was a contract that the deal was made. Suddenly, Hus started to feel sleepy. He slowly lost consciousness. The last thing he saw was the employee smiling with his eyes full of satisfaction.

Huss came to a strange state of consciousness. He felt that his body was very light. When he looked closely, he could not move at all. He found that he had turned into a jacket.

She said as she walked away that someone had carried him up to the wardrobe and had someone put him on.

Hus found out that the person wearing him was Raven. He was a little shocked, but he felt satisfied to receive Raven's body from him. He felt that he was merging with Raven's body. Everything about Hus slowly turned dark again…

Raven's Corner

Today I have to continue filming this movie. I'm a little bored with the people on set who are gossiping about my acting being too stiff.

**After putting on the jacket**

I feel like I can perform better with this weird feeling like something is flowing through me, but I accept it.It made me able to act more naturally but ahhh the more I accepted it the more my body became uncontrollable. Ahhh the worst it made me horny it made me hard all the time.I can't stand it anymore. Aaaah no, I just finished in my pants and they're so wet now. Why is everything getting darker…,,,

Raven's body twitched for a moment before opening her eyes. Hass had now taken over Raven's body.

From now on, I'll take care of it myself. Let's see how well I can portray you, Raven. Wow, it looks like someone just finished in his pants. I'll definitely continue at your house, Raven, no, mine, lol.

After 1 year

The handsome young actor Raven has been nominated for the Best Leading Actor award. He can give a great performance. The headlines are like this, I feel shy.

Hass in Raven's body lives as Raven. He can act as Raven smoothly without anyone knowing. He gets up and goes to take a photo, thinking to himself, "Thanks to this body, I've come this far, but I should thank the Mystic Shop for helping me get this body. Ah, I feel so good in this body. Ah, it seems I made his brother hard again by accident. I'll have to work so I can have fun."

I'm trying to get my backlog of requests sorted out before the new year. I hope you like it. See you on the next one.

[sunshinescribes]

Sandcastle

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Summary: Crocodile has only ever known how to devour. Everything he wants, he consumes until there’s nothing left to take—but he can’t seem to get enough of you.

Warnings: SMUT! Obsessive behavior, hookplay, slight voice kink, overstimulation, creampie

Crocodile has only ever known how to devour.

He’s been gluttonous for as long as he can remember, his hunger an untamable beast incapable of being satiated. Everything he wants, he consumes until there’s nothing left to take.

And when he’s done feasting—when the euphoria finally fades and the empty feelings he’s always felt return—he searches for another sacrifice. He’s never satisfied.

Maybe that’s why you unnerve him.

Intrigue would be the better word, but there’s too much truth in it—a kind of vulnerability he refuses to acknowledge. Because then he would have to admit that you aren’t part of his plan to steal Alabasta. You aren’t a fly caught in the intricate web he’s masterfully weaved for years.

You’re an outlier—the one deviation he allows himself to indulge in, all while fearing that the deeper he sinks his teeth, the sweeter you’ll become.

“You’re quiet.”

Crocodile blinks as he’s ripped from his musings. His hooded eyes find you lounging comfortably on the settee across from him. The robe you’re wearing hangs low on your shoulders, causing the fabric to dip low enough to reveal the soft flesh of your breasts. His eyes must linger, because you lift your sleeves with an impish smirk.

Crocodile would laugh if his throat didn’t feel so dry—if he didn’t enjoy your soft teasing, this ability to act chaste as if he hasn’t had you writhing beneath him, debased in every conceivable way.

“Well, more quiet than usual,” you clarify.

Crocodile remains silent as you continue to stare. You’re subtle with your examinations, trying to decipher anything in his micro-expressions to gauge what you believe must be wrong, but he gives you nothing.

You see too much of him as is.

“There were pirates in Nanohana again,” he sighs. A cloud of smoke wafts from the cigar that dangles between his lips. “It’s becoming tiresome.”

The lie falls easily from his lips, just like the many others he has told over the years. False grandiose stories and faux acts of heroism that make him appear every part the savior, and never the villain that he truly is.

He can’t help himself, especially not when your eyes linger on his face with adoration, and something sweeter—something that drives him mad with how he can’t quite place it.

All he knows for certain is that nobody has ever looked at him the way you do, and like every precious thing in his life, he hoards. Your smile. Your laughter. The feel of your fingers tenderly tracing the scar on his face as you lay beside him. This is his—you are his, and he refuses to let go.

The rational voice in his head berates him, hisses about his ever-growing mistake. It demands that he be done with you for good, but the darkness inside of him rages at the thought.

He hasn’t finished consuming. He still wants more.

And you are always so eager to give.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask sweetly—so sweet that Crocodile almost misses how suggestive your inquiry is.

You hold his gaze, not backing down or shying away.

“To help relieve the stress?”

 You’re so thoughtful, even when you’re wrong. In anyone else Crocodile would find the characteristic annoying. He has condemned people for far less, yet he desires it from you—to know he is on your mind, that he occupies a space that nobody else does.

“C’mere," he commands, exhaling a final puff of smoke and tossing the used cigar into an ashtray as you lift from the settee.

He leans back in his chair. His legs instinctively spread as you draw near, making room for you to stand between them.

The back of his hook trails up your thigh, and Crocodile grins as you let out a soft sigh that is all too encouraging. You’re lovely like this, always so receptive to anything he chooses to give.

Goosebumps form across your exposed skin as Crocodile brings his hook higher, slipping beneath your robe and continuously rising until it rests between your breasts.

“First things first…” his voice trails off as his eyes lift to your face again.

Your breathing is shaky, but he sees no fear in your eyes. Only desire. The same, insatiable hunger that aches within him.

“Gotta get rid of this.”

Crocodile yanks his hook down, ripping your robe in one clean swipe. The fabric pools at your feet, all while Crocodile takes a moment to admire the sight before him. No matter how many times he sees you naked before him, it always feels like the first time—another unusual effect you have on him, but he’s too drunk on the need to have you to analyze it further.

His dick strains against his pants, begging to be buried in your warmth.

He pulls you onto his lap, and you know exactly what to do. It makes his lips curl into a sharp smile as you reach down, hands shaking while you unzip his pants and free him.

Crocodile grunts as your hands wraps around the hard flesh of his dick. You pump it slowly—so devastatingly slow that his hips jerk forward of their own volition, chasing the delicious friction that he craves.

Your finger swipes over the tip of his dick, precum staining your hand as you continue to jerk him off with slow, methodical movements that drive him mad.

“Enough,” he hisses, sounding almost pained.

He positions you above his throbbing dick, lining it straight with your dripping pussy—already slick with your own arousal.

He’s rarely gentle, and even less so now as he slams you down on his lap, burying himself to the hilt inside of your tight, aching cunt.

You let out a sharp gasp, blissed out by the feeling of being filled to the brim. Your velvety walls embrace him, keep Crocodile where you both need him, but he refuses to dwell.  

His hips snap forward as he pumps inside of you with fervor, creating a vicious rhythm that has you bouncing on his dick.

“C’mon, fuck me back,” Crocodile encourages with a deep groan.

Fuck, you love his voice and he knows it. Love the deep, fucked-out rumble against your ear while he’s deep inside of you.

“S-shit,” you whimper as you slam down on him.

You try to meet his thrusts, try to fuck yourself on his dick the way you know he likes, but he’s impossible to match right now.

You lean forward, slinging your arms around his broad shoulders as he continues to use you. You trail open-mouth kisses across his jaw, soft moans and gasps escaping your lips with each powerful push.

Crocodile tilts his head slightly, his eyes are heavier than usual as he glances down at you, watching the way his dick disappears inside of you. The squelch of your needy cunt is like music to his ears, only rivaled by the sweet sounds you always make for him.

And he wants more. He always wants more.

Crocodile is careful not to hurt you with his hook as his arms come around you, pulling you tight against his chest as his thrusts grow frantic.

You cry into his shoulder, your voice cracking while Crocodile pumps his dick deeper into your sopping pussy—pushing you to your limit. He relishes how badly you want it.

Not just your own release, but his too.

“That’s it gorgeous,” your pussy clenches around him, ripping a desperate groan from his throat.  “Tell me…how good it feels.”

“Croco—ah, fuck—” your breath catches as he hits a particularly sweet spot inside you. You can feel yourself getting close, nearly there, all you need is a little push.

You reach down, rubbing desperate circles around your throbbing bud.

“’S so good—you’re s-so go—"

Your voice cuts out with a squeak. Your eyes nearly cross as you fall over the edge, ecstasy ripping through you so violently you almost cry. You come hard, gasping and gushing all over his dick. You are certain his pants are stained with the evidence of your orgasm, but you don’t have the mind to be apologetic or ashamed.

Crocodile watches with wicked fascination at how your legs tremble, how your come drips down his body, darkens his pants. It takes everything in him not to lean down to your lips and silence your cries with his tongue.

His hold on your waist tightens as he fucks you harder, chasing his own release now that you’ve given him yours. You whine—no, fucking sob as his dick continues to pound into you.

“Say my name,” he rasps.

“C-crocodile.” You match his name with each powerful thrust, “Crocodile. Crocodile. Croco—”

He slams up into you one last time, losing himself. His head rolls back, fingers digging painfully into your flesh and his hook nearly scrapes your thigh. He curses—chokes out your name as he comes hard inside of you, damn near sees stars as he fills you up.

You clench around him with a pathetic whine and he almost fucking loses it all over again.

“Do…do you feel better now?” you ask softly, resting your head against his clothed chest.  

No, and he doubts he ever will. Not as long as you have this hold over him. The rational voice has gone silent—abandoned him completely— and only a single word is whispered in the dark crevice of his mind, chanted like a prayer.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

PART 2

[selineram3421]

*is now craving sushi* Dang. 🍣

Other Worldly

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Shy Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ selectively mute reader, food mentions-seaweed, song lyrics Drift Away-Trillian ⚠

Alastor took the mer up to their hotel room, the halls empty as he made another water pun, which earned him a fin slap to the face.

"I could drop you, you know?", he said but continued to carry them towards the bathtub.

Setting them down gently, he made sure to get a towel and put it somewhere within reach for them to take when their legs returned.

"There you are dear!", he said before standing up straight. "I'll leave you here now. Don't try to get up too soon, you'll just flop right over!", he laughed and turned to leave.

"Wait.", they spoke softly.

Like an exciting rush, he felt chills run down his back as his body followed the command.

"Don't tell anyone about what you saw..", they paused. "Or what you heard from me. Please."

As soon as they were finished, the 'spell' had broken and he was able to move again. Glancing over his shoulder, the Radio Demon snapped his fingers and his coat was clear of the water spots they had left on him.

"Very well.", he said and began closing the bathroom door. "This will stay our little secret~", he placed a finger over his lips before shutting the door.

He stood there for a moment, hearing the mer let out a sigh before the water turned on.

Satisfied with his findings, the deer demon left their hotel room, making sure to lock the door before closing it.

As he made his way to his radio tower, he thought of ways to get the aquatic demon to sing around him.

I should ease their worries somehow.. He thought. I wonder if there is a way to lure a siren.

.

You hated the transition of your legs returning.

Every time, you felt like your tail was being torn apart. Your scales felt like needles piercing into you when they sunk back into your skin. The webbing on your fingers was the only thing that didn't hurt much, but your hands would cramp a few times the day after.

This is annoying. You thought as you dried yourself completely after taking a bath.

Next was the hard part.

Grabbing the edge of the tub, you slowly stood up. Your feet feeling like you walked many miles without rest, aching as you stepped onto the tile floor.

It hurt.

Step by step, it felt like you were walking on glass, thorns, or hot coal as you made your way into your room to get dressed.

As soon as you could, you dropped onto your bed with a whine, staying there for a moment before crawling under the covers. After turning off the lamp on the nightstand, you hoped that the red dressed demon wouldn't say anything of what he saw.

Yes, you told him a command but the other half was a plea.

Let's not worry about it. He did say it would be our secret. You thought before going to sleep.

The next day was a little odd.

After getting breakfast, the smiling demon began talking to you like you were old friends.

It confused you.

What did he have to gain from talking to a quiet person? There was nothing you could say without hypnotizing him.

.

It was simple.

All he had to do was get them used to him and they'd be comfortable enough to let their guard down.

What better way to do it other than talking?

Food.

Throughout a few weeks, the Radio Demon experimented with all kinds of food. Taking notice of their expressions and the amount of food that they left on their plate. Later, he noticed that they enjoyed snacking on seaweed.

He wasn't sure where they had got it from, but it was something that he made sure was kept stocked in the kitchen and at the bar.

"The fuck? Why seaweed?", Husker grumbled.

"One of our guests enjoys it and the Princess ordered a surplus of the snack.", Alastor said as he watched the cat demon put the box under the bar counter.

Of course, it didn't really work out like he wanted. They were still quiet, still just out of reach, wary of him and his every action.

So he tried a different tactic.

Continuing to talk to them in open spaces but once they left, he hid in the shadows and observed them.

And then it happened.

It was exactly what he was waiting for.

Though he was hiding within the shadows of a dark theater room, he still was able to catch them, to listen to them sing.

Dark brown wood and red velvet from the room had made the area darker than it really was, but they still managed to find a ledge to sit on. They started off with soft hums before a real note came out from their lips.

"Here in the garden

Let's play a game

I'll show you how it's done

Here in the garden

Stand very still

This will be so much fun"

Like before, he felt the pull in his chest, the daze their voice submerged his mind into.

"And then she smiled

That's what I'm after

A smile in her eyes

The sound of her laughter

Happy to listen

Happy to play

Happily watching her drift away"

His shadows held him back from crawling out of the darkness. Something he was quite grateful for as he didn't want to disturb their singing.

"You keep on turning pages, for people who don't care

People who don't care about you

And still it takes you ages, to see that no one's there

See that no one's there

See that no one's there

Everyone's gone on with out you.."

Such a peculiar thing. To feel what they felt through their song, waves of sadness brushing against his mind.

"And aren't I the fool to have

Happily listened

Happy to stay

Happy to watch her drift

Drift

Drift...away."

They finished their song and sighed, wearing a frown.

Something Alastor couldn't just stand by for.

"You have such a lovely voice.", the deer demon spoke up.

They let out a noise of surprise and stood quickly , looking around the room like a frightened animal.

"It's a shame you hide it.", he continued.

He could hear how quick their breathing became as they backed away towards the nearest exit. Before the mer could touch the door, the Radio Demon came out of the shadows behind them and took their wrist.

They gasped and froze, not daring to look at him as he held them close.

Now is his grasp, he hummed in content and put a finger under their chin, lifting it up so they could look him in the eye.

His smile grew wider once they made eye contact.

"Let's make a deal~"

I did not have sushi but I did get to eat seaweed.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

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ML I Alastor🎙 | ChL OW🦀

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hello I hope your having a good day! I was wondering if you could write for the arcana mane 6 comforting reader when she had a bad/stressful day? Js something fluffy and cute :3

Case of the Blues

|| main 6 x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader feeling down, the main 6 comforting her, brief hints at sex but nothing actually said or overly hinted at

|| Summary; when the main 6 find reader, they comfort her to the best of their abilities. Each in their own styles.

Requests open!

Started; November 9th

Finished; November 9th

~~~

Countess Nadia

She knows by now what all your tells are, it didn't take her long to figure out you were feeling down. Nadia would call for Portia, requesting your favourite comfort food to be made for dinner that evening. Then Nadia would call off anything she had to do for that day. Luckily, today there wasn't anything too major. Just small meetings with the court that Nadia could just reschedule anyways.

Getting you in her arms would be her top priority. Once Nadia had you in bed, she'd shower you in kisses. Asking what was wrong and if there was anything she could do for you. If you told her, Nadia would sit and listen. Providing advice should you ask. She always seemed to know just what to say, especially when it came to you.

If you decided on being silent with her, Nadia would never force you to speak to her. But she would feel a little hurt that you were shutting her out. Instead, she would focus on the physical comfort over emotional and mental. Giving you any kind of attention you wanted... yes, any. Nadia was yours just as much as you were hers; something she would never let you forget. Not that you had any complaints, though.

And it worked nearly every time, making you feel better than you had all day.

Count Lucio

Believe it or not, he does notice when his favourite magician is feeling down. Lucio doesn't always know what to do at first, asking some of the palace workers for advice until he settles on something he likes. And figured you would like too.

When he finds you, he scoops you up into his arms. Ignoring your protests at being carried, saying how he's "trying to be your hero! let me do my thing!" and eventually you calm down. Allowing him to carry you to the palace's luxury baths.

At the baths, he tells the servants there to leave the two of you be. Then disrobes you and himself before heading in, gesturing for you to follow him.

Once settled in his arms, he holds you close. Pampering you and kisses and asking how you're feeling. If you tell him, he does his best to listen. And if its a rant about someone in particular, Lucio hates that person along with you. "ugh I can't believe they did that!" "no way???" "nobody speaks to my mc like that and gets away with it". Honestly Lucio lives for the drama.

But if you choose not to tell him, much like Nadia he's happy just providing you with kisses.

Portia Devorak

Just like you, Portia's pretty exhausted after her day in the palace. But when she comes home to find you looking rather down, almost subconsciously petting Pepi in your lap... she knows what she's gotta do. Portia's the type to worry about herself last; if at all. So you know this girl is doing everything she can for you.

Making you a calming tea, your favourite snacks, then cuddling up with you and Pepi. Listening as you rant to her. Much like Lucio, if the rant is about a particular person... Portia is your number one defender. You may need to hold her back from marching out of the cottage and finding whoever it was that wronged you herself. How dare someone make her favourite girl in the world sad? She'd handle it, if you let her.

Julian Devorak

Oh boy. When he found you feeling down, he was all over you with concern. First Julian made sure to cross off any illness possibilities; checking your forehead, etc. When he was satisfied that you were alright in that sense, he'd run off to get you water and a snack. Just to be extra sure about your health and all. And when he'd return, Julian would sit and listen as you talked to him about your day.

He would feel bad for you, wishing that whatever had you feeling down was happening to him instead. Despite Nazali's warnings at not being so self sacrificing. Julian loved you, he couldn't help it. He hated seeing those he cared about in any kind of pain he couldn't fix.

But Julian would damn well do anything he could to try and fix it. Giving you whatever kind of comfort you needed. Cuddles? Stories? Kisses? Laughter? You name it, you got it. Even if he may have to pull a few strings.

Asra

Asra's known you for ages, after all he taught you to be human again. So of course he would immediately recognize that look in your eyes. He'd ask you what was wrong, bringing you upstairs to talk about it as Faust came and joined you. Lounging in the space between the two of you.

You would talk to Asra; there was little you felt you couldn't admit to him. It had always been easy having conversations with the magician. He'd listen, letting you get everything out before offering comfort and especially advice. Even offering to do a tarot reading for you, should the situation require another set of eyes and advice.

You'd listen to everything he had to say, taking in his words like a fresh breeze on a rough day. Finding it was exactly what you needed to hear. As it often was. He'd then give your hand a squeeze and lips a kiss, before making your favourite meal for dinner. Comforting you was something he had become skilled in doing over the years. After all, you were his mc.

Muriel

Muriel would return to his hut to find you cuddled up with Inanna. He could tell you weren't quite yourself. He'd give you the time you needed, knowing that sometimes people just need to be left alone until they're ready. And by the time you were, he was making dinner for the two of you as he felt your arms try to wrap around his back. Muriel would look to you, bringing you in a little closer. Placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

He wouldn't ask what was wrong right away. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation. If you did, he would listen. Occasionally nodding to show you he was paying attention as he made dinner. But if you didn't talk first, he would feel a little flustered as he'd awkwardly stutter out the question. Asking you how you were feeling.

Should you decide to say nothing about it to him, Muriel would respect that. Being a man of so few words himself he hardly minded. But he would be bothered about whatever seemed to have you so down. Wondering if it was something he had done or someone else. As long as you assure him it wasn't his fault, he'd be okay.

~~~

Notes; not used to writing for Portia, Julian, Asra or Muriel. So I hope you all found them to be decently accurate 🙏

[dekariosclan]

Note, this is an Anon ask that I reformatted to allow for the 18+ cut!

———

Anonymous asked:

Why gale's boxers are magic? What kind of magic?

18+ under cut

Is it to hide boner? Is it so it always stays clean? Is it to reduce private part size becouse hes so big? Why gale?? Why are your bixers enchanted???

———

🤣🤣 Full disclosure, this ask had me rolling, anon! I can feel your passion for discovering the truth 😂 Thank you for the laugh!!

Now, take my hand, and together we will dive into Gale’s pants some possible reasons why Gale’s bixers/boxers/briefs are ✨enchanted✨

As a reminder, the game description itself is this:

The ‘energy crackles’ and ‘surely he didn’t enchant his…’ would seem to indicate that oh yes, he definitely enchanted them, right??

So, what kind of enchantment might our wizard have done to his briefs, hmm?

“Is it to hide boner?” This is a great guess and I believe I’ve seen other Galemancers suggest the same, but I’m going to say I don’t think that’s what the enchantment is for—because a wizard can easily hide his boner already, simply by dressing in wizard-y robes and billowy clothing. No enchantment needed!

“Is it so it always stays clean?” Gale is nothing if not a gentleman, especially when it comes to intimacy, so I fully agree he would want to be clean at all times. However, the ‘energy crackles’ description makes me think the enchantment is something a liiitle more spicy than just a self-wash/self-clean.

“Is it to reduce private part size because he’s so big?” Gale would be so delighted you considered this as a possibility, anon! 😂 And while it’s another great idea, I don’t think Gale would minimize that part of himself via an illusion. Again, his clothing choices could easily cover up anything that he wanted to hide, and, well—he does have a bit of pride, and I don’t think he’d mind being ‘too big’. Quite the opposite, in fact.

So, what do I think the enchantment might be?

Considering that Gale wants nothing more than to satisfy his beloved AND to give them a lovemaking experience that is far beyond just “fine”…

My belief is that he has not enchanted his briefs.

Oh, the crackling energy is real! The enchantment is real!…but it’s not his underwear that’s enchanted.

It’s his manhood. He’s enchanted his manhood. And all for his partner’s pleasure.

The result is that his performance will be outstanding, amazing, incredible (yes, he might cum early, but he’ll be ready for round 2 in a shockingly short amount of time, and will perform even better) and when finished, he’ll leave Tav gasping, sated, and asking how in the heavens Gale managed to DO all of that?! Was that from his enchanted briefs??!

And Gale can just put his hands on his hips, and in mock indignation proclaim, “Why, certainly not, my love! I would NEVER enchant my briefs!”

[morganwrites12672]

Abandon

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After the worst fight he's ever had with his father, Sam goes to the only person he can for comfort.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: ANGST. John is a piece of shit. Arguing. Crying. Daddy issues.

A/N: Have fun crying!

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Whenever Sam had finally gotten back from visiting her, he hadn't expected Dean and John to be waiting up for him in the small living room of the motel. He awkwardly shrugged off his jacket before tossing it over the back of the couch.

He could feel his father's eyes burning into his skin. John must be pissed off about something. It seemed like Sam couldn't do anything without upsetting the older man. His good mood vanished.

"You have something you want to tell me?" John asked, and Sam just knew. He knew exactly what John meant. There was nothing else that would have his father looking this pissed.

Sam swallowed thickly, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He looked between Dean and John. John looked pissed, his fists clenched, his jaw tight. Dean looked different. He looked almost happy, he looked satisfied. A smug smirk tugged at Dean's lips.

Dean was convinced that John was going to fix everything. He thought that his father would be able to fix this. Once all of this was over, Sam would stay. Everything would work out. If only Dean didn't put so much blind trust into his father. Maybe then he would have realized what would actually happen.

"No sir."

Sam knew that his father wouldn't be satisfied with this response. No, the older man would be pissed off. Nothing Sam said would make it right. No matter what he did his father would still probably lose his shit. This was going to be an argument from Hell.

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" John growled. He pulled something out of his pocket, a letter. Not just any letter though. The letter. Sam's acceptance letter for Stanford.

"How-" Sam didn't get to finish his sentence.

"You applied for Stanford," John said. It was a statement, not a question. The evidence was quite literally being gripped in John's hand.

Sam's nerves coiled in his gut, ready to explode. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. This argument was the very thing that Sam had wanted to avoid at all costs. He wasn't quite sure how he had planned to avoid it though. Telling John might have made it better rather than the older man figuring it out, or being told by someone else.

"I'm going," Sam blurted, standing up a little straighter. He wouldn't keep letting his father walk all over him. He would go to Stanford. After everything he had sacrificed for other people, he would do this for himself. Hunting could wait a few years.

"I just want to-" For the second time that night, John cut Sam off.

"Like hell you are! I won't let you abandon this family," John snapped as he stood. He slammed the letter down onto the table. He couldn't believe the way Sam was speaking. "Would you really do that? Would you really abandon your brother and I?"

"No. Dad listen, I am going to Stanford!" Sam shouted back at John. He wasn't abandoning Dean or his father. No, he was just trying to go to college.

"It's that damn whore," John sneered. It didn't matter that he was talking about his friends daughter, he was also talking about the girl who he thought had been a bad influence on Sam. "She's been putting all of these ideas into your head. She-"

It was Sam's turn to cut John off. Hearing his father talk about her that way made Sam's blood boil. He took a steadying breath. Just yelling at his father wouldn't do any good. He needed to be somewhat logical. Though, he struggled to think of anything decent to say after what he had heard his father call her.

Dean was watching everything go down. Now that he'd seen how this argument was going he might have a few regrets. He'd seen Sam and his father argue, a lot. It had never been this bad though. Hearing what his father had to say about her though, that made Dean regret everything. Being around her was the happiest Dean had ever seen his brother. He couldn't believe that his father would insult her like that. She wasn't a bad influence on Sam, not in the slightest.

"Don't call her that," Sam said through a clenched jaw. "She has done nothing wrong! It was my idea to apply for Stanford. I am not abandoning this family! I'm going to college!"

"Don't you fucking come back! If you aren't going to do the job, and be apart of this family, don't you ever come back," John snarled.

Sam's expression changed in an instant. He felt his chest tighten, panic spreading throughout his body. He knew by looking at johns face that his father wasn't kidding.

Sam grabbed his jacket, the letter from Stanford, and his laptop case before walking out the door. He had a lump in his throat as he walked down the row of motel room doors. Looking around the parking lot, he was thankful that it was empty.

"Sammy! Wait!" Dean yelled, running out of the motel room door after his younger brother. He was panicking at this point. Things weren't supposed to end like this. He couldn't believe that Sam would leave like this.

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped at his brother, not bothering to turn around. "Leave me the hell alone Dean."

The older Winchester brother stopped in his tracks. He had fucked up, everything had went wrong. It was too late now. Sam had clearly made up his mind. There was nothing Dean would be able to do to stop his brother.

Sam walked. And he just kept walking. His jacket protected him from the ice cold gushes of wind blowing. He walked towards the only place he had left to go; her house. She was his escape. He needed her, right now especially.

The disgusting words that John had spoke of her made Sam's blood boil. He walked faster. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hiding them away from the brisk cold.

She was the best part of his day. Hearing his father call her that, and the way the older man talked about her made him sick. She deserved so much better. She didn't do anything wrong. No, the opposite. She made everything better.

The thought of her smile was only able to hinder the tears building up for so long. Sam only walked faster. His long, gangly legs could only carry him so fast though.

The walk to her house didn't take long. Sam practically ran. His eyes had long ago welled up with tears, he sniffled as he finally spotted her house. He walked up to the front porch and hesitated. It was late. What if her parents answered instead of her?

He didn't knock on the door. Instead, he sent her a quick text asking if she could open the front door for him. He prayed to anything out there that might listen to him that she was still awake. He wouldn't risk her parents coming to the door, even if he knew that they wouldn't be upset.

His tear stained cheeks glimmered in the moonlight. He wiped at his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, trying to hide some of the tears from view. However, he knew that the second she opened the door that she would know. It would be impossible for her not too.

She could take one look at Sam and read him like a god-damn book. It was nice to be understood like that. Dean and his father had never actually listened to him about anything. He felt like an outsider. He don't feel anywhere near like that around her.

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard the click of a deadbolt sliding open. The front door creaked open. Standing in the doorway, there she was. Her pajama pants hung low on her hips, exposing a small section of her waist before her tank top covered the rest of her skin up. She looked tired as hell, yet she still gave Sam a gentle smile.

She stepped aside wordlessly, letting Sam into the house. Her eye brows drew together in concern as she noticed his tear stained cheeks. As Sam stepped inside, she quickly (and quietly) shut the door. The dead bolt snapped into place.

As she turned around she noticed that Sam had already began walking to her bedroom. Her house was more like a home to Sam than any other place. He did spend a lot of time here. Not that her parents minded.

Her parents loved Sam. They had always welcomed him in with open arms. And, they ignored all of the times they caught Sam sleeping over. They just appreciated that their daughter was spending time with someone her age. Having such a an odd lifestyle made it difficult to maintain friendships.

Whenever she walked into her bedroom, Sam was already sitting on her bed. His head was titled downwards, his eyes seemed to be locked on her rug. She noticed that he had discarded his shoes and jacket already. His jacket hung on the back of her desk chair, and his shoes sat in the corner of her room.

She sat next to Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He shuddered beneath her touch. More tears burned at his eyes and he fought to keep the emotion out of his voice as he spoke

"H-he found out," Sam whispered in a fragile voice. With anyone else he would have cringed at how vulnerable he sounded. He sniffled again, trying to prevent the tears from pouring down his cheeks again.

Her heart dropped. She was suddenly wide awake. That was the worst possible thing that could happen. She still remembered how excited Sam had been to show her his acceptance letter. All of that excitement had been ruined by John.

"Oh my God. . . Sam-"

"I'm still going to S-Stanford," He looked up at her as a few tears finally escaped down his cheeks. "My dad. . . my dad told me not to come back."

She didn't hesitate before pulling him into a tight hug. It was awkward since they were both sitting down but she didn't care in the slightest. Sam broke down in her arms. Hot tears poured down his cheeks.

"It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay." Her voice was gentle, the polar opposite to how his father had spoken to him earlier.

It was moments like this that made Sam realize how lucky he was to have her. He wouldn't know what to do without her. Especially tonight. His heart has been brutally ripped apart by his father, now she would work on helping him pick up the pieces.

They were always there for each other. It was something that could be so very simple that most people didn't notice it. The way that Sam would subconsciously reach for her anytime things went South, the way she always seemed to find her way into Sam's arm after a case or fight with her parents, the way she always made sure Sam had somewhere to go.

And yet, the two had stuck with the title of best friends. Neither one of them wanted to change it much, not yet anyway. There might have been occasional thoughts that definitely weren't the kind you thought about friends though.

Her warm touch brought Sam back to the present moment. It reminded him that things didn't have to be so bad. He might have lost his father, and maybe even Dean too, but he still had her.

"You can stay here until you leave for Stanford."

Sam' head jerked up. That was months away. He had planned to- he actually didn't know what he had planned to do. He would have figured something out though. No matter how hard it was.

Sam cleared his throat, "No, I can't ask your parents to do that."

"Too bad," She retorted. "You live with us until you leave for Stanford." Her voice was firm and left no room for argument.

Her parents would understand. They always did. Even if her father and John were friends, she knew that her mother would be able to persuade her father into letting Sam stay with them. Her mother was good at doing that. Nobody could say no to that woman.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. He then rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tear streaks. It would never make sense to Sam. He couldn't believe that she cared about him this much. He was a black sheep with his family. He was the one who caused problems and didn't belong. He didn't feel that way here. He felt just as much apart of the family as she actually was.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. She kept her arms wrapped around Sam. He felt like her arms were the only thing holding him together. His own father had just kicked him out! Sam couldn't believe that Dean had shown the letter. It hurt.

None of that mattered right now. He couldn't go back in time to fix things. He had to live with everything that had just happened. He had to figure it out.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He could get through anything with her by his side.

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A/N: The biggest thanks to @tranquilitybasegrunge and @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading parts of this for me!

Tag List: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @aidansloth @jaredpadonlyyyy @zeppette @moonl1ghtsworld @tranquilitybasegrunge

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Another, another Drabble that might be longer than I originally planned…the ending was dogshit🦦

‘It’s cute.’ Sylvia Newbon of the Aphrodite cabin cooed as Luke flashed you a charming smile.

‘Then you can have him then,’ you began, plucking loose threads from your jeans, ‘he’s been nothing but an annoying pain in my ass as of late.’

Sylvia merely chucked as she playfully nudged you in the side. ‘I don’t think that’s possible at this pount, Luke seems dead set on you, and I honestly think you’re being dramatic about all this. You’ve got someone pinning after you and your response to that is to be rid of it?’ She said aghast. You shrugged, not really understanding what Luke saw in you, a child of Hades, a forbidden child other than that; a forbidden child whose existence shouldn’t have come to pass.

‘He’ll get bored of me once he realises I’m not who he thinks I am.’ You defended, now watching Luke as he took a small break from training, face still bearing that smile that only seemed to grow to the point his dimples and pearly whites were on full display. You didn’t want to be the one responsible in taking take away that shine. Ever. For it seemed that ever since your first arrival to camp, Luke had been the only one to stand by you without an ounce of trepidation for who your godly father was; He had been there during the sleepless nights despite the fact he didn’t need to, during your time at the Hermes cabin he would be beside you in the dinning pavilion or even save you a seat.

He did everything in his power to help you and be of aid, all without expecting a simple thank you in return…You genuinely hated how you felt towards him. You originally put it down to the fact that Luke Castellan was conventionally attractive, only to soon learn that it was much deeper than that, which had scared you to the point of becoming recluse.

‘Don’t say that.’ Sylvia said sternly. ‘Don’t do that to yourself, don’t sell yourself short. I hate it when you do that because that means missing out on something pure, something beautiful, something real.’ She then grasps onto your hands, holding them with a strength that was reflective of her passion. ‘I don’t want fear of rejection, for fear itself to control you any longer because if there’s anyone in camp who deserves to be happy, it’s you. You’re the child of hades for fuck sake, fear is beneath you and you know it but you still willingly give it power over you. Why? Why deny yourself true happiness when it’s served up to you on a silver platter-‘

‘Because I’m afraid!’ You exclaimed, cutting Sylvia off but find it difficult to stop. ‘I’m afraid that I won’t be enough for him, that I’ll take away his smile that shows off his perfect teeth and cute dimples! I’m afraid that he’ll never be satisfied being with me because even in a camp full of people like me, much like Nico, I still feel the outcast and I don’t want to burden Luke with that.’ You finished, slightly out of breath. ‘So it’d be better for the both of us if I just kept my distance.’ Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other, letting nothing but the silence to take hold, but then you saw the sudden shift in Sylvia’s eyes as they looked to something just behind you.

You didn’t need to know who it was behind you, not when you could clearly see from where you sat that Luke was missing from his little group of friends that were heading off elsewhere; which was probably why you didn’t express surprise upon hearing his voice from behind saying. ‘I know I probably fucked up my chances by eavesdropping but I completely disagree with everything you said just now.’ You didn’t even react when Luke sat himself down, nor make any attempts to move away when he then shuffled closer to you as humanly possible. Sylvia -obviously knowing what was going to happen- smiled softly as she stood up and promptly left you and Luke to your much needed conversation.

‘And why’s that?’ You rhetorically asked, looking at him as though you weren’t having an internal breakdown as to what might come out of his mouth next. ‘Would me saying I like you be substantial enough evidence?’ He asks.

‘We’re not in a romcom movie Luke, a simple I like you is never going to be enough, especially for people like me who have never been given much of a reason for staying, never mind a good one at that.’ You replied and Luke hummed in acknowledgment before grabbing you hand in a similar fashion as Sylvia did prior; with a strength reflective of his passion. ‘Then let me try again by saying that the day you came to camp was probably the most important day of my life.’ Luke began. ‘From the moment Chiron brought you to the Hermes cabin I knew right then and there that I was a goner. I must’ve been obvious as even some of camp began to notice how I acted towards you and would come up and tell me to tell you and get it over with…but I didn’t because I’d thought I would have enough time to tell you eventually.’ He chuckles, squeezing your hand while you listened intently.

‘I was wrong on that front because it wouldn’t be long until you were claimed by Hades and soon after you had already packed your stuff to move into your new cabin. It wasn’t until then did I realise that I took our friendship for granted, I knew that sooner or later you’d be claimed but at least not for a while, I often asked myself why did I cling onto you so desperately and now I know why.’ Luke finished, looking at you deeply.

‘Why?’ You asked, already knowing the answer.

‘It’s because I didn’t want you to move on and forget about me when I was very much liked the thought of you being close to me, closer than a friend should. So while your cabin was being built I took that as a final attempt in getting closer to you before being forced to wake up in a cabin void entirely of your presence for good.’ Luke replied.

You licked your lips, suddenly overtly away of how dry they were. ‘and here I thought you were just being the friendly head of the Hermes cabin.’ You admitted humourlessly, resting your head against his shoulder without a care. ‘How oblivious was I?’

‘How oblivious we both were you mean.’ Luke corrected as he rested his head atop of yours, briefly closing his eyes. ‘I just hope that I’ve given you enough reason to stay at camp.’ At those words you squeezed his hand in reassurance and uttered softly for him to hear. ‘you gave me that and so much more.’

Luke pressed a kiss to your head. ‘Good because I would’ve followed you into Tartarus and back if I hadn’t.’