#her voice is so pretty i need to draw her pretty

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[sthilarions]

Edwin and Charles getting held captive, and their captor hitting Edwin with a torturing hex. Edwin knows Charles will immediately tell their captor what she wants to know if Edwin looks like he’s in too much pain, so he just… locks it down. Continues talking to their captor as though nothing has happened, voice doesn’t even waver.

So she hits him with the hex again. And again.

Nothing. Not a twitch.

Charles gloats to her - such an incompetent warlock she can’t even cast a little hex! Which results in her adding in a different torturing hex, which frightens Charles for a moment, until he sees that Edwin is still utterly unbothered; he looks blankly bored, if anything.

Eventually Charles’s taunting draws her close enough to him that he’s able to wrap his manacles around her neck and choke her, and once she’s unconscious, it’s a pretty simple matter to get out of said manacles. And all’s fine and dandy, until Edwin says, in a voice that’s strangely distant and floaty, “Charles, could you hand me Agonizing Invocations, please?”

“What do you need that one for, mate? She’s already out. Planning on trying to torture her back? I mean, I’m not saying I’d stop you, but…”

And then he looks back up at Edwin, and Edwin looks distant and floaty, now.

He spends about 30 seconds patting Edwin down frantically, and then about 30 seconds putting together information he doesn’t like, and then shrieks Edwin’s name loud enough to make up for all the screaming Edwin isn’t doing.

[24galaxies]

My Home

Story line:- Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You’ve been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You’re a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Azriel x Reader

The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound that filled the sitting room. It should’ve been comforting—warmth wrapping around me like a favorite blanket—but tonight, it felt oppressive. Maybe it was because of him.

Azriel sat across from me, his form sharp and precise in the soft firelight, every inch of him exuding the kind of quiet power that left me breathless. As usual, his focus wasn’t on me. He was next to her—Elain Archeron. The golden one. The one with a mate.

I closed my book for the third time in as many minutes, unable to focus with the two of them so close. It wasn’t that they were doing anything inappropriate—Azriel wouldn’t, and Elain…well, she didn’t seem to notice his lingering looks. But I noticed. I always noticed.

I hated how it made me feel. A bitterness that lodged itself in my chest, turning my heart into something small and sharp. I wanted to tell myself it didn’t matter, that Azriel could love Elain if he wanted. But it wasn’t just love. It was something deeper. Something quieter.

And that made it worse.

I stole another glance, careful to keep my movements subtle. Elain was speaking to him, her voice soft and melodic. Whatever she said made Azriel smile—not a big, broad grin like Cassian’s, but a small, fleeting thing. I hated that I wanted to be the one to pull that smile from him.

“Y/N.”

The sound of my name snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to find Azriel’s hazel eyes locked onto mine. My heart skipped, the intensity of his gaze startling me.

“You’re frowning,” he said, his voice low.

I blinked, scrambling to compose myself. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insisted, tilting his head slightly. “Something wrong?”

It wasn’t fair. That look, that tone—like he cared. Like I was more than just a mortal girl who happened to land in their world.

“No,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

His gaze lingered, like he didn’t quite believe me, but then Elain spoke again, drawing his attention back to her.

And just like that, I was invisible again.

I didn’t stay in the room much longer. The fire was too warm, the tension too thick, and I needed air. Slipping outside, I welcomed the crisp night breeze that kissed my skin. Velaris was beautiful at night, the stars scattered across the sky like shards of silver.

It had been two months since I arrived here, and I still wasn’t sure if I belonged. Rhysand had insisted I was special, though I wasn’t sure what that meant. Mortals didn’t winnow, didn’t teleport from one place to another in the blink of an eye, but somehow I could. And no one—not even the High Lord himself—could explain why.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my arms as I wandered the gardens. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I should’ve stayed in my world, where things were simple and I wasn’t caught up in…this.

The sound of footsteps startled me, and I turned to see Azriel standing a few feet away.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened at the sight of him. “Just needed some air.”

He didn’t move closer, but his presence alone was enough to fill the space between us. “You left in a hurry earlier.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?”

I glanced at him, biting my lip. “You and Elain.”

Something shifted in his expression—subtle but there. His shadows swirled around him, their movements restless.

“Elain and I…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right words. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” I challenged, folding my arms. “Because it looks pretty clear to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I cared for her. That she could be—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “It doesn’t matter.”

I stepped closer, my chest tightening. “It does matter. You can’t just…pretend it doesn’t.”

Azriel’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and intense. “Why do you care?”

The question caught me off guard, and I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize I didn’t have an answer I was ready to give.

“Forget it,” I muttered, turning away. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

I didn’t look back as I walked away, but I could feel his gaze burning into my back.

The tension between us only grew after that night. Azriel kept his distance, but there were moments—fleeting glances, accidental touches—that left my heart racing. It was maddening, this dance we were trapped in.

It wasn’t until Cassian suggested sparring that I found an outlet for my frustration. The training yard became my escape, a place where I could channel all the emotions swirling inside me.

“You’re getting better,” Cassian said, blocking my latest strike with a grin. “But you still telegraph your moves.”

I rolled my eyes, adjusting my stance. “Maybe you’re just predictable.”

Cassian laughed, lunging at me with renewed vigor. I barely managed to dodge his attack, stumbling as I tried to regain my footing.

“Careful,” he teased, winking. “Wouldn’t want Azriel to think I broke you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I glared at him. “Shut up, Cassian.”

“Make me,” he challenged, his grin widening.

Before I could respond, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Enough.”

Cassian and I both turned to see Azriel standing at the edge of the yard, his expression unreadable but his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cassian raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll leave you two alone.” He shot me a knowing look before sauntering off, and I resisted the urge to throw my sword at him.

Azriel approached slowly, his wings tucked tightly against his back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing the dirt off my clothes.

He didn’t look convinced. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard.”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, more sharply than I intended.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he took a step closer, his voice softening. “I know you can. But you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

My breath caught, his words hitting me harder than they should’ve.

“Why do you care?” I asked, echoing his question from that night in the garden.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped even closer, his hazel eyes locking onto mine.

“Because I see you,” he said quietly. “Even when you think no one else does.”

My chest tightened, and I opened my mouth to respond, but he closed the distance between us before I could say anything. His hand cupped my cheek, his touch warm and grounding, and then his lips were on mine.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepened, years of longing and restraint breaking like a dam. His shadows swirled around us, cocooning us in a world that was just ours.

When we finally pulled apart, Azriel rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered. “I was afraid.”

I smiled, my hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

For the first time since arriving in Velaris, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Over the next few weeks, everything shifted. Azriel and I found a rhythm, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words. He still had his shadows, his secrets, but he let me in, piece by piece.

Elain…she seemed to understand, too. There was no bitterness, no resentment—only a quiet acceptance that made me respect her even more.

As for me, I finally started to feel like I belonged. Rhysand’s court wasn’t just a place; it was a family, one I was proud to be part of.

And Azriel?

He was My Home.

[nr1chaedickrider]

breathe on me

“and you think this is a good idea, why exactly?” you ask jihyo who's right next to you, a drink in her hand as she watches two other women, supposedly friends.

“some fun never hurts - they’re exactly our type, i'll take the blond haired one, you the black haired one” she replies, her eyes still focused on the pair, they’re laughing together and haven't ordered any drinks.

you watch jihyo, seeing how she locks eyes with the blond haired girl.

“call me when something bad happens, enjoy yourself,” she says before leaving you alone.

she walks up to both of them, shoots a charming smile to the girl she set her eyes on and as fast as she arrives - she has her arm around the girl's waist and is taking her to a secluded spot in the bar.

you look at jihyo’s empty glass next to you, then to the girl sitting there.

you only live once, right?

you walk over to her and sit down right next to her.

she looks at you, “and what do you think you're doing?”

you smile a little, “buying you a drink”.

the girl in front of you can't help but smile too.

“im flattered,” she replies.

“i'll have something with tequila” she tells the bartender as he nods, he looks at you.

“i'll have the same thing” he nods again, walking away to prepare your drinks.

“so,” you start speaking, music playing quietly in the back, “what's your name?” you ask.

“momo”

“im y/n, nice to meet you”

“pretty name” she compliments you, looking at you, her eyes travel over your body.

“got a little staring problem?” you tease a little.

the bartender places the drinks in front of you two and leaves you alone.

momo takes the glass in her hand as she looks back into your eyes again.

“when you're out here with your pretty underwear - yeah, i have one” she chuckles, taking a sip of it as her eyes don't leave yours.

you also decide on starting to drink a little, the liquor leaving a slight burn after it flows down your throat.

“you’re really pretty,” you say.

there's something about her that pulls you closer, it draws you in and makes you so interested in her, even if she's a complete stranger.

“why did you decide to buy me a drink?” she asks you.

“well,” you take another sip of your drink, then put it down on the table.

“i was alone and needed company - it looked like you were going through the same thing”

she smiles again, laughing a little.

“you’re smart”

she crosses her legs, leaning a bit forward while looking into your eyes.

“but i don't know if that's going to win me over, pretty” she coos, a smirk on her lips as she leans back again.

“it's a little hot in here, don't you think?” you ask her.

she looks at you, slightly confused on what you're trying to do.

you move the fabric of your top, revealing the matching calvin klein bra.

momo thinks about how it looks without being covered by your clothes.

her eyes are focused on your chest.

“maybe it is a little hot” her eyes move north to your exposed collarbone, maybe if she looks close enough she will even see a drop of sweat on your skin.

she looks back into your eyes, acting like she wasn't close to temptation.

she's trying to play hard to get, after all.

you can't help but chuckle a little at her behavior.

you take your glass and finish the rest of your drink, watching as she slowly reaches for hers.

her lips don't touch the glass yet - getting distracted by you leaning forward (she pretends like she didn't just look at your cleavage instead of your eyes).

your lips are right next to her ear, your hot breath on her sensitive skin.

“come on, finish your drink,” you whisper.

your hand lays on her lap, slowly rubbing her thigh, teasing her with slight touches close to her core.

she brings the glass to her mouth, slowly drinking out of it.

“you should let me take you home” your voice is low, teasing her.

you move down a little and kiss the skin right under her ear.

momo's breath hitches, her grip on the glass gets tighter.

if she wasn't close to temptation earlier, she definitely is now.

“i could make you feel so good,” you whisper against her skin, continuing to kiss her neck, your hand still teasing her.

“i could fuck you so good that you'll be begging for more” she bites her lip, drinking the last drop of her drink, but she doesn't dare to move, doesn't dare to breathe.

“do i turn you on, baby?” you ask, taking your hand away and leaning back.

you look at her now flushed face, “what happened to playing hard to get?” you tease her.

“thought you were going to stand on business, silly” you add, a chuckle escaping your lips.

momo puts the glass down on the table and exhales slowly before looking at you again.

“you’re coming with me, now” her voice is embarrassingly high, almost a whimper.

you don't complain but let her take your hand and pull you out of the bar.

“don't disappoint me,” she says.

“oh i won't - trust me.”

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 78: Oliver's Awakening

Previous > Masterlist

tw: aftermath of mind control, discussion of abuse

October 1925

Oliver writhed on the ground, his chest as tight as a drum and tears squeezing from his eyes, as all the fear and pain and shame that had been suppressed the past few months flooded him.

He'd been content, so content to give up his own life to become the servant of a vampire, hardly even struggling as he was taken and confined and ensorcelled. He'd enjoyed the vile feedings, looking forward to the vampire drinking away his blood, pleased to slump over in the vampire's arms as his life was drained, satisfied with the twin scars on his neck. He'd cheerfully allowed the vampire to pass him around like a party favor to his lover, to curl up around him as he slept, to dress him up in ball gowns and take him to vampire dens to show off…

But truly, it wasn't the shame that hurt the most -- that was just the easiest of his emotions to understand. No, the worst of it was the profound sense of emptiness. It was if Alexander's music had filled something within him he hadn't known was empty. It had given him a purpose, even if it was to follow the selfish whims of a monster, and now he was devoid. Knowing intellectually that it had never been a real purpose, just enslavement, didn't ease the sting of his heart.

Vivian crouched down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Oliver, I know it's a lot to process. It might take days or weeks --"

"You don't know!" Oliver wrenched backwards to get away from her, furious. "You don't know what you just took. You can't!"

"I know it must hurt --"

"If you knew it would hurt like this, then why did you do it against my wishes?" Oliver demanded.

"Oliver!" Emily was standing nearby. "She was just trying to help. It's not fair to yell at her like that."

"It's not fair that I feel like this!"

"Leave him alone," said Vivian. "Let him scream at me if he wants. He's coming out of a much deeper enthrallment than you were in, Emily. It won't be easy."

"That's not true," she said indignantly. "I could barely talk, couldn't remember my past, wasn't even literate any more."

"Yes, and that's relatively easy for a vampire to do. What's been done to Oliver is far more precise and insidious, to keep him so intact on the surface while bending his desires and loyalties completely."

"Do you mind talking about me as though I'm not even here?" Oliver hated how angry he was, how he couldn't control the harshness of his voice. He was never angry, never so much as raised his voice at a difficult customer, not before he was captured. Even then, his anger had been weak, easily plucked out of his head by that damned Miss Lily. He felt sick to think of himself drowsing in her company, letting her rummage through his very mind, throw out anything she didn't like, and replacing his truth with a pretty painted facade.

"I'm sorry," said Vivian. "I know you're upset with me, but this is important. Can you still feel the connection with your former master?"

"No. It's been severed. I can't hear him anymore."

"That's good. With a vampire that powerful, it's likely that your connection is actually only weakened, not entirely destroyed. He may try to enter your head again, draw you under his sway."

Oliver nodded, ashamed that a part of him hoped he would, that Alexander's music would dull the pain. No, he would have to resist somehow. He couldn't go through all of this heartache for no reason, to go merrily skipping back into the arms of a vampire. Vivian's magic had stripped away the illusion, revealed the monster behind the handsome face.

"I'll try to resist," said Oliver shakily.

"Good, that's good. If you hear his voice, you need to tell me immediately, all right? I can help protect you, or wash out his influence again if we need to," she said. "It's my fault for not killing him when I had the chance. I was a coward. And now I'll have to plan to go after him again, before he hunts me down."

"Don't kill him!" Oliver's fervor surprised even him.

"Oliver, you'll never be safe until I do."

"I know that, but -- I don't want him to die. Maybe I should want him to die, maybe I'm still under his spell, but I can't bring myself to want him to die," he said, not understanding why he felt so strongly about this when he knew Alexander's true nature.

"He took you from your bookshop, remember?" said Emily. "The whole time we were in those cages -- at least, before Lily warped our minds -- that's all you could talk about, was your bookshop and how you had to return there. Don't you want to?"

His bookshop, and the tiny apartment above. His little safe haven, where he'd spent his entire life. The antique books locked behind the counter, the sagging shelves of the history section, the ratty armchair with the throw blankets that might still be waiting for him.

"I can't go back there," he said. "Alexander was one of my customers. He'd find me easily."

"That's why I have to kill him," said Vivian.

Mounting horror dawned on Oliver. "But even if you did kill him, it wouldn't do any good, because his sire would find out and hunt us both down. I'm sure of it."

"His sire? A vampire that powerful, and he's still beholden to his sire?"

"He's a terrifying vampire." The fear, which had been acute before, was now so much more sharp without Alexander's soothing influence. He could remember the feel of harsh fangs in his neck all too well, the panic of being unable to open his eyes. "Far more terrifying than Alexander could ever be. Alexander once told me that if we ever tried to escape him, he'd hunt us both down and make sport of it, and I believe him."

"It can't be…" Vivian muttered. "Tell me more about him, your former master's sire."

As much as Oliver didn't care to recall those memories, Vivian might actually be able to help. "I'll tell you whatever information I have. I'd be happy to see him die, and Alexander would, too. I don't know his real name, but they all call him the Maestro --"

"You've met him?" She gripped his shoulders like a madwoman. "You've actually met the Maestro?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You've heard of him?"

"He took my mother. He's the vampire I need to kill more than any other. You must tell me everything you know about him."

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I can tell you everything I've learned about him, if you agree that you won't kill Alexander."

"Even if I were convinced you truly meant that and it wasn't just residual conditioning, I couldn't agree to that. Alexander is likely to come after me for taking you, and if he does, I need to be able to defend myself."

"I suppose that's true," said Oliver reluctantly. He didn't want to admit to himself that it would be ideal if Vivian were to kill the Maestro but spare Alexander, so that he would have the option of returning to the vampire without the threat of his sire hanging over their heads.

No, he must still be under the spell. He shouldn't return to Alexander under any circumstances, not if he wanted to keep a free thought in his head.

"You need to tell me," Vivian insisted. "Revenge on the Maestro is one of the main reasons I became a hunter in the first place. It wasn't just my mother who suffered. He's killed at least twenty hunters, and he's believed to have kidnapped a number of musicians and stage performers. He needs to be stopped."

"He does." Oliver sighed, feeling that tiny bit of leverage slip. "All right. I'll tell you what I know."

He tried to recall everything he could for Vivian's sake -- everything Lex had told him, and especially recounting his own experiences with the cruel vampire. Emily sat nearby, her eyes going wide with horror as Oliver described his blinding and the painful feeding. Vivian, on the other hand, was absorbing all of Oliver's words carefully.

"So when he controlled you -- was there any sort of induction he had to perform? Any conditions he had to meet?"

"I don't think so, or at least I don't remember any. Alexander didn't mention any either. He was able to puppet my body as easily as if I were a toy, and there didn't seem to be any way to resist it."

"Hm. That's going to be trouble," said Vivian, deep in thought. "And when he stopped you from opening your eyes again -- how long did it take for that enthrallment to wear off?"

"It didn't. The next day, Alexander took me to Miss -- to another vampire's home, one that specializes in hypnotizing humans, and she reversed the Maestro's command."

"A specialist in hypnotizing humans? Lily?"

"You know her too?"

"Yes, I'm aware of her."

"Are you going to kill her, too?"

"I really should, considering how many people's minds she's destroyed -- or are you going to defend her as well?"

"…No." Truthfully, he felt more conflicted about it than he should, given that Vivian was objectively correct. How many human minds had she stolen? How many lives had she cut short, selling innocent people off to vampires with nothing more than glee about her profits? She was the one who had twisted his mind, and all those feelings of comfort and warmth as he slept in her chair were nothing more than lies to keep him docile.

"So do have any idea where the Maestro lives?"

"No, I'm sorry. Those are the only two times I encountered him, and Alexander never mentioned where he lives, from what I can recall."

Vivian sighed. "It's a pity. But even so, you've given me far more information than I had yesterday, and I'm grateful for it."

"You know… both you and Alexander want the Maestro dead. Could you ever consider working together?" asked Oliver.

"Working with a vampire?"

"Only this one specific time, only to kill an even worse vampire!"

"I can't do that," said Vivian. "Even if we do have the same goal. Fighting a vampire as formidable as the Maestro would leave me vulnerable, and I can't trust that this Alexander wouldn't simply enthrall me afterwards. In fact, he'd be stupid not to, lest I kill him."

Oliver wanted to protest that Alexander wouldn't do that… except that Alexander might actually do that. After all, he had no qualms at all about buying a human at auction, even a human he previously knew as an equal. Why would he hesitate to enthrall a hunter?

"Come on," said Vivian, helping him off the floor. "We can talk more about this later. You've been through a lot tonight, and need more time to shake off the spell you've been under. We have a room that you can use, but I'm going to have to lock you in, and keep you under surveillance for now, at least until we're sure that your vampire isn't going to try and push himself into your head again."

"Fine," he said, accepting that Vivian didn't trust him. He didn't even trust himself. "Why can he still do that, if you've undone the enthrallment?"

"There's a psychic connection established when a vampire drinks your blood. It's not quite the same thing as enthrallment, and it can be very strong. It fades in days or weeks, but until then, you'll still be vulnerable to the vampire's influence."

"I see." He wondered if that applied to any vampire which had fed from him. If it did, that meant -- "But the Maestro, he…"

"Yes," she said grimly. "Has he ever entered your mind before, when he's not there in person?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"I hope not either. I'm not prepared to fight him just yet. If you sense anything, you need to tell me right away."

"Yes, of course."

Vivian led Oliver out of the attic and into a room little bigger than a closet, with a cot and a small chest of drawers. "You should get some rest," she said, herding Oliver inside. "You'll feel better once you have. Is there anything you need?"

"A glass of water, please?" asked Oliver, sitting on the edge of the cot. "And if you have any interesting books…"

"Certainly. I'll see what I can do."

Oliver waited patiently for Vivian to return with the water and a couple of old magazines. As soon as she left the room and he heard the lock click shut, he fell back onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't even be able to concentrate on reading, not with all the thoughts crowding his head.

He was free.

Wasn't he?

It was terribly hard to feel free when he was locked into a small room, the threat of his vampiric master and his sire still hanging over his head like an executioner's axe. The confinement was for his own safety, and he understood the reasons, but he wouldn't actually be free until both Alexander and the Maestro had ceased to walk the earth.

He was frustrated with himself. He shouldn't care so much about the well-being of a vampire who had literally purchased him at auction. And yet…

Now that the initial shock and fear had worn off, he was finding himself gripped by a deep and profound sadness. The cot he lay on was hard and cold, and he couldn't suppress his longing for his bed at home -- no, Alexander's bed. It wasn't ever his. He'd been hypnotized to share it, to cuddle up with a monster.

He'd been hypnotized into affection.

And it was really the only affection he'd had since he was a child, wasn't it? He'd lived such a solitary and quiet life, spending almost every night alone in his small apartment with books for company. Even the simple pleasure of curling up to read next to someone else had been foreign to him until he came into Alexander's possession.

And it had all been a fabrication meant to keep him compliant, hadn't it? He shouldn't miss it. He should be glad to be rid of it.

But the thought of returning to his solitary life, of never experiencing actual tenderness, was crushing him inside. He'd been starving for so many years, but it had been bearable when he didn't know what he was missing. Now that he knew that his choice was between actual loneliness and false companionship, he could only be ashamed at the parts of himself which preferred the lie.

No, he had to press on somehow. He couldn't return himself to a monster, no matter how charming. He should be happy to be freed. He could have his own life back. He could sleep during the night and wake during the day, and walk in the sunshine, and choose to go wherever he pleased.

He could take what little money he had stashed in his bookshop and take a train out of town, or a boat overseas, see the new places that he dreamed about but never got around to visiting. He could start his life over, do something else with it. Live a fuller life in the here and now rather than wait in his lonely little bookshop, wait for something to happen to him. Something had happened to him, and it should have taught him a lesson about choosing what he wants before it's chosen for him.

It was exhilarating. But…

For all his newly gained freedom, he still had no idea what he actually wanted. The desire for fangs in his neck was fake, but at least it was a clear desire. What did he want before, apart from books and safety? And who was he now, now that he knew the dangerous world of the supernatural lurked just behind every streetlamp, just waiting to pull him into it?

Previous > Masterlist

Next week: Oliver is not as free as he might have hoped.

I'll also have a Christmas-adjacent self-indulgent vampire story up tomorrow, so please keep an eye out! And vote in the holiday edition of Sedation Vending Machine!

Thanks for reading this story another year, and happy holidays!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb @the-broken-pen

@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush @cepheusgalaxy

@whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @the-monarch-whumperfly @ium1naryy @wumpbean

[maevesque]

A/N: Ahahahahaha... Remember this post? Yeah, bye. I'm hiding after I post this.

@rafayelsheart tagging you, because... AAAA I fucking did it.

His voice is low and husky, tingling your senses as he brushes his lips along the outer shell of your ear, whispering softly, "wake up, kitten." And you instantly stir awake from your sleep, fatigue still clings to your eyes but you pay no heed to it as your eyes meet with Sylus's.

You smile, eyes sparkling in between the sleep-spelled gaze, and you look divine in his eyes. He pulls you closer, and without seeming, captures your lips in a heated kiss. Your tongues dance, tasting each other as he pulls you closer, hoisting your leg over his waist, making you feel his hardened member.

It's slow at first, your hand moving to wrap around his aching cock, stroking him slowly as you two continue your rhythmic dance against your lips. It's coupled with a beautiful thrum of his soft, puffed out moans. Oh, how you simply adored how he sounds melting in your hands like this.

"Kitten," he groans against your lips, "are you really going to continue teasing me?" His tone rough with desire and a morning rasp.

You smile, shaking your head, knowing that you can't stand teasing him any longer, not when you ache to feel him filling you to the brim so early in the morning. The thought of your bodies rocking to a steady rhythm as passion fills the air was a trip to ecstasy you didn't think you needed.

His hand trails down, fingertips drumming until he reaches your entrance, his long slender digit dip into you, slowly stroking your insides, one finger becomes two, and the third has you begging softly, panting against his ear.

"More, please."

Sylus smirks, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Since you asked so nicely." He says, positioning himself to your entrance, "are you ready?" He asks, wanting to ensure he doesn't hurt you, not when the light teasings are sprinkled with gentleness and care.

You nod, reaching back tug at one cheek, opening yourself more for him and he growls, his hand gripping your hips before pushing into you in a languid movement, drawing up a gasp from you that he swallows before he eases his head back, pushing his fingers into your mouth, that you wrap your lips around to suck your slick off, your eyes closing as you savor the taste of yourself on his fingers.

He groans at the sight, unable to help himself as he delves his tongue back into your mouth, greedy to taste yourself on your tongue. The kiss was hot, wet and simply messy, but that's something the two of you never seem to mind.

He continues pushing as he feels you adjust, your walls hugging him perfectly snug, he has to stop himself from coming right then and there. A groan tumbling from his lips once he bottoms out, a soft whimper escaping you as her walls squeeze around him.

"So tight, kitten," he grunts softly, his hand gripping your ass as he begins to move, his cock sliding in and out with ease.

Your whimpers being coupled with moans, fill your room with the sound of soft skin slapping against each other, and your pretty noises that Sylus absolutely adores.

He picks up the pace, his groans becoming louder, his grip on your hips tightening as your bodies move in sync, panting against each other's lips, swallowing each other's moans as he moves against you.

Your moans gradually grow in volume, a pleading, "harder," renews his fervor as he obliged to your request, his thrusts becoming harder, holding you in place by your hips as he pressed deep, deep, deep inside you.

The two of you get lost in tangled limbs under soft blankets, the sun continues rising as your bodies move in harmony.

"I'm... I'm close..." you moan as you grip onto his shoulders.

He rolls the two of you, now hovering as he uses this angle to piston his hips, easily hitting your sweet spot mercilessly.

"That's it, kitten," he grunts in between his encouragements and now relentless thrusts, "come for me."

And you do, a loud moan muffled the moment he captured your lips as you came, coating his cock with your essence, and he helps you ride out your climax.

Once you come down from yours, you pull him closer, your ankles locking behind him as the back of your feet pressing against his ass, making him press deep inside you once more. You trail kisses up to his ear and nip at the earlob, a pleading and sultry whisper, "come inside me..."

And who is he to say no, his eyes darkening once more, and even more so when you guide his hand to your neck, his brow cocking upwards as the smirk returns.

His long, slender digits curl around your neck, applying pressure when needed as he snaps his hips, feeling him nearing his own release.

"Come for me, Sylus..."

The smile you give him as he tightens his hold around your neck has him growling in pleasure, your breathless command and the squeezing of your walls has him spilling into you after a few more thrusts.

You hold onto him, clinging to him even, as he rides out his orgasm until it's spent. He takes care not to crush you as he wraps his arms around you, easing to the side to lay with you, and when you feel him slipping out, you squeeze your walls much tighter than before.

It makes him chuckle, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Alright, alright... I won't go anywhere," he reassures you, a kiss to your forehead as he tucks your head under his chin, his own eyes closing as he hums softly.

"Rest," he commands, though his tone is gentle, "we can go out later."

He also makes sure that he adds black-out curtains on their list of things to buy before allowing himself to drift off to sleep to meet with her once more.

[asp3nn]

assignments due today so naturally i had to spend my time cooking up a hera design

[chloesimaginationthings]

There's doomed yuri... in my FNAF ruin?

[artisan-king-morleus]

[adoradordegatos]

[reinabeestudio]

you stop shaving as a woman and people just dont know what to call you anymore huh

[mayoiayasep]

no bc for literally every character except for shizuku its a struggle to pick my favorite alt of theirs. shizuku's shoujo rei alt wins by the giggle at the beginning alone

[inamindfarfaraway]

I have never played League of Legends or Legends of Runeterra. But I've been watching a lot of TB Skyen's character, lore and short film breakdown videos and gone down a rabbit hole about the world and inhabitants of Runeterra. So I went and made an OC.

She has the magic power to change the colour of things, which is a lot more awesome than it sounds, and is essentially trying to be Bilgewater's Batman... except there's no law in Bilgewater.

She’s meant to be a heroic foil to Pyke: both have a tragic backstory, present or past grudge against the selfish and corrupt people of Bilgewater, fishing theme, strong association with a notable aquatic animal (sharks and cuttlefish) and are armed with a sharp weapon on a cord; Pyke’s list and very memory of his death, his perception of who he needs to get revenge on, is constantly shifting as the jaull-fish manipulates him, while Kamea alters the perception of others to manipulate them.

Update: there's another one, inspired by TB Skyen’s The Mageseeker playthrough! He's a young mage in the Demacian story with red ice magic, arrythmia and so much trauma.

@tbposting

[this-should-do]

ugh

[nr1chaedickrider]

Jeongyeon college party fic or anything jeongyeon, there’s barely anything for her tbh 😞

i blame this idea on gossip girl (and the dreams ive been having)

“you look so pretty” she coos, spreading your legs and placing kisses along your inner thigh.

you can't see her face, her hair is dark, her hands delicate.

her tongue meets your clit, licking and drawing eights on it as your hand grips her hair and pulls her closer.

she doesn't stop, her fingers trailing down your naked body as she shoves two fingers in, thrusting them in and out of you as she keeps using her tongue.

you're already getting close, toes curling into the mattress.

just a little more and you would cum, pretty hard even.

but you open your eyes, and suddenly everything is gone.

your underwear is soaked and you sigh as you throw your head back.

it was a fucking dream.

-

“it'll be so fun” chaeyoung says, dragging you to the house of some (seemingly) rich kid.

“you just want to see your crush” you answer.

“oh shut up”

“you know….” she starts speaking, standing right in front of the door, the music inside so loud that you can hear outside.

“the host is really cute” you try to reply to her but she knocks and someone opens the door.

she's pretty, older than you, she smiles at the two of you - and the way chaeyoung gives you a look it seems like that girl is the host.

“come in guys” she invites you both.

so you walk inside, and before you can react, chaeyoung hands you a drink and tells you to call her if something happens.

as fast as it happens, she leaves you alone on one of the multiple couches in the living room.

you decide to drink a little from it, relaxing into the cushion of the couch.

you watch the people around you, they’re loud, partying, dancing, or making out.

your eyes travel trough the scene in front of you, landing on someone.

her.

her legs are spread, a drink in her right hand, her head leaned back, exhaling.

when she moves her head again - your eyes meet.

(you’re usually not good at holding eye contact, but something about this moment - it makes you only focus on her)

it's like everything went silent, you're only focused on her.

you feel your breath hitch, gripping the cup a little too hard.

you decide on being bold, finishing your drink as you put the red cup down, standing up and walking up the stairs.

she follows you, quickly. catching up to you and taking your hand, leading you to her room and shutting the door right after, kissing you with her hands on your waist.

“yoo jeongyeon” she breathes out, moving down to kiss your neck as you throw your head back.

“what?” you ask, voice shaky as you grip her shoulder.

“my name, im yoo jeongyeon” she whispers against your ear, hot breath hitting your neck.

you smile a little at her introduction, “y/n” you reply with your name, pulling her away as you walk to the bed, signalizing her to come to you.

she follows you, sitting on your lap as she kisses you again.

it's hot, messy and everything you need at this moment.

her hands move all over your body, squeezing your breast.

she moves her hands more south, unbuckling your pants and pulling them down.

your underwear is soaked, jeongyeon's fingers rubbing over it as you moan into her ear.

“don't tease me” you whimper, stuttering a little as she goes over the waistband of your underwear and shoves her fingers in.

you moan at the feeling, remembering your dream.

maybe she was the one you were dreaming about.

“please” your voice cracks, moving your hip so she can reach deeper, fucking you fast.

“you're so pretty” she coos, kissing your neck and leaving hickeys.

“keep going” your moans are loud, your breath hitches, clenching around her as she keeps kissing you.

“gonna cum?” she teases, you nod quickly, gasping as she adds another finger.

“cum for me princess” she says, her tone low, as if it would be a command.

you cum around her fingers, kissing her as you moan into her mouth and pull her close to you.

she kisses you back, watching you as you come down from your high.

you both smile at each other.

“my turn” you coo, kissing her neck.

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”