#massage des mains

[mosaique-sante]

Mon cahier de réflexologie palmaire

Pour se soigner par les mains :  appuyez, ça fait du bien ! Carole Thiebault

Sur et dans nos mains se reflètent tous nos organes. Basée sur les principes de l’énergétique chinoise, la réflexologie palmaire agit sur les méridiens et sur la circulation d’énergie dans l’organisme par la stimulation de ces zones réflexes situées sur les mains. 

De la déprime aux allergies, en passant par la bronchite et la nervosité, les petits maux physiques et émotionnels du quotidien peuvent ainsi rapidement être soulagés grâce à cette technique ancestrale facile à utiliser.  Ce cahier pratique accessible à tous, débutants comme pratiquants plus avancés, permet de soulager plus de 40 affections courantes. Pour chacune, vous trouverez la liste des zones réflexes à masser, ainsi que les schémas en couleur correspondants pour repérer facilement les endroits à stimuler sur la paume et/ou sur le dessus des mains.  En bonus : de nombreuses astuces pratiques pour renforcer l’effet des massages, ainsi qu’une introduction pour découvrir le monde de la réflexologie palmaire, accompagnée de vidéos pour faire les bons gestes !

[luveline]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 

Finished. his text says. 

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 

Miguel squints at you. "What?" 

"What?" you ask back. 

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 

"It's going to make my skin clearer." 

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 

"It's fish?" 

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 

Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 

"You'd love that." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 

The puppy barks hello. 

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 

"I want what you want," you say honestly. 

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–" 

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 

"I sent you all those photos," you say. 

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 

He's talkative tonight. 

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 

"Then…" 

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 

"You're not mad?" he asks again. 

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 

"Your face was wet." 

"And after when we were eating dinner?" 

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 

"A kiss would've made me feel better." 

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need a drink." 

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 

"No!" you laugh. 

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

[cherryredstars]

Stress! Miguel x Spider! Mafia Queen! Reader? Where in Reader's universe it's kill or be killed and has no choice *but* to kill the bad guys and is a vicious spider to the enemies but a total sweetheart to children (yes, including Hobbie), and a seductress/tease to Miguel she's head over heels for our grumpy dilf.

But the main plot being Miguel being stressed and angry from between missions and the society not doing what they're supposed to do so he gave in to the temptation and called in Reader to de-stress himself and made sure we- reader belong to him and only him?

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Impact Play, Spanking, Breast Play, Mentions of Overstimulation, Minimal Aftercare

Unedited

You didn't expect it to lead to...this.

It was just mindless fun. Something to help take the edge off of the stress. Harmless teases and flirting that was supposed to stay one-sided. A way to temporarily distract yourself if anything.

You didn't know Miguel would ever act on anything you said.

It seemed normal enough. It isn't uncommon for Miguel to call on you, demanding your presence for a mission or to recruit new spiders that randomly popped up around the multiverse. He seemed normal too, sure a little more on the hotheaded side today, but still normal enough. But you were so wrong.

One second you're standing, and the next you're perched over Miguel's lap.

Each of your legs are spread wide as they're thrown over his muscular thighs, your suit up and missing as your bare back presses into the electric sting of his suited chest. The yellow screens around you gives your skin a glowing quality, exaggerating the natural shadows of your figure. You're already squirming from the discomfort of having your legs stretched so wide, embarrassed that your cunt is exposed fully. You flinch when Miguel's large palm strikes down on your core.

A wanton noise escapes you, and you turn your head to bury it in Miguel's neck. His other hand is kneading at your breast, massaging the rounded flesh before targeting your nipples with mean tugs and pinches. He's rambling about something, muttering into your hair about all the annoying shit that's happened the whole week and how you're the perfect stress toy to help redirect the anger. You can't quite make out the words, your mind focusing on the stinging sensation of his palm and the stimulation of your nipples.

Your hips jolt as he gives your cunt a rapid succession of slaps, each one targeting your sensitive clit. Your body tries to close in on itself in an attempt to save you, but Miguel is always quick to readjust your body for easy access. He gives your clit a mean pinch, and you feel tears well up in your eyes as the pain zaps up your body.

"stop squirming, only making m'more mad." He grunts into your ear as he relents his pinch.

You can only nod your head weakly in agreement, sniffling into his neck with a soft moan as his hand gently massages your red cunt. Even through the suit he can tell you're embarrassingly wet, his fingers circling around your pulsing hole before giving it tiny little spanks that do nothing but surprise you. His eyes are trained on your body, admiring the way you twitch and squirm as he takes out his anger on you. You take it so well, making him so proud.

He coos when a sob tears through your throat when he slaps your cunt again, leaning down to kiss the tears. He doesn't stop though, the sound of his palm meeting your wet flesh resonating through the room. You let out wet babbles, your hands desperately trying to grab onto him for comfort. He eventually lets go of your breast, freeing his hand so you can grab weakly onto it. Both of your tiny hands grab at it, fingers shaking as you take it.

With a few more quick slaps you let out an anguished scream, a dam suddenly breaking inside of you as you convulse in his lap. Miguel groans at the sigh of your body jumping with an unexpected orgasm, your clit twitchy and red. He talks you through the wave of pleasure, only stopping his slaps when your body slumps against him in exhaustion.

"There you go, pretty. That's a good girl." He mumbles down at you, rubbing slow circles into your clit despite the overstimulation.

You whine weakly, tears still streaming down your face as you hiccup into his neck. Miguel pulls his hand away from your clit, massaging your thighs to help soothe your body without irritating the sensitive skin of your sex. You almost want to cry out in relief when something cold presses gently at your core to relieve the burning ache of the lasting sting a few minutes later. Miguel seems to pick up on the relief it provides you, humming softly and pressing a small kiss to your hairline.

That's his good stress toy.

[drunk-fantasies]

de-stress

+18 content, minors dni

friend!heeseung x fem!reader / 1,1k words / fingering, oral (f. receiving) / mlist

explicit content under the cut!

you groaned for the nth time today, bringing the attention of your friend, who just like you was revising material for your upcoming exams. he scanned your features and pursed his lips at the view of your furrowed brows and fingers massaging your temples.

“can i help you somehow, y/nah?” he asked, gazing back to his notes.

“i don’t think so, hee, i just can’t focus,” you sighed loudly and plopped on his bed.

“maybe a small break would be good for you,” he suggested, but you opposed it quickly.

“it’s been like this for like the past week. nothing and i mean nothing gets to my brain, no matter how hard i try,” you complained while he listened attentively.

he thought for a while, wondering what could help you get back on the right track. “i’ll help you. what do you not understand?” he sat next to you, taking your notes and reading them roughly.

“everything,” you mumbled playing with your fingers.

he let your notebook fall on his lap with a slight thud. “everything? y/n that’s not possible. you’ve been getting good grades this whole year, i’m sure something stayed in your memory.” his tone was soft, you were discouraged enough for now.

“i don’t know, hee. i feel like i forgot everything,” you spoke with tears brimming in your eyes.

“hey, hey.” heeseung was quick to wipe them off your cheeks and held your face in his palms, stroking it with his thumbs from time to time. it’s not the first time he comforted you in times like this. he always managed to find a way to help you, and you were always thankful to have him near you, as your friend. a friend whose touch gives you butterflies, but still, a friend. “no crying, okay? let’s watch something to ease your mind, how does it sound?”

he waited for your response and you slowly looked at him and nodded. his smile grew and he reached for a remote control to turn on the tv. leaning against his headboard he noticed that you still sat at the exact same spot you did before.

“y/n?”

“can we cuddle?” you asked quickly, not even thinking what his answer could possibly be.

he chuckled and with a motion invited you to sit in between his legs. you moved to the spot and leaned against his chest, feeling how your heart beat uncontrollably fast. without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around your body, causing a swarm of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“what do you want to watch?” he asked nonchalantly as he browsed movies on netflix. “maybe some comedy to lighten up your mood?” he suggested and you nodded, thinking about nothing, but the way his palm stroked your side.

heeseung turned on the first movie he found that you hadn’t watched yet and turned off the lights for a better vibe.

your attention was nowhere near what was happening on the screen. the mixture of stress caused by exams and the biggest-ever closeness between the two of you flooded your mind. subconsciously you kept on fidgeting with your fingers, breath steady in its irregularity.

“y/n, you would enjoy it more if you watched what’s actually going on on the screen,” he said, noticing how your fingers were your main attraction currently.

“sorry,” you mumbled.

“don’t be sorry, silly,” he chuckled and let his hand fall on your thigh, dangerously close to your core, making you hold your breath. now instead of stroking your side, his fingers focused on the inside of your thigh, sending shivers throughout your whole body. suddenly you stopped him and took his hand in yours. waiting for your move he smirked feeling how you placed it on your crotch. soon he started moving his digits in a circular motion and felt how your tense body relaxed instantly.

his movements became more defined and sharp, playing on your sensitive bud through thin layers of your shorts and panties. it didn’t take him long to slide them to the side, leaving your pussy completely bare. at first his fingers danced delicately on your clit, before finally entering your hole. your back arched slightly at the sudden penetration, gasping for air. after waiting for you to adjust he started slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you while leaving wet kisses along your jaw and neck.

“heeseung,” you finally whined, taking hold of his hand to control its pace.

“tell me what you want. tell me how i can help my little princess,” he whispered straight into your ear.

“please don’t stop,” you let out in between moans.

despite your pleas he abruptly stopped, leaving you and your cunt needy for his touch. before you could complain, he crawled away from you, now lying in front of your crotch. “i think i know what you might enjoy a little bit more,” he said while pulling down your shorts and panties. you helped him by raising your hips and soon your bottoms landed on the floor.

heeseung brought your body closer by your thighs, hugging them tightly, taking a chance to take a look at your dripping hole in the dimmed light of a tv playing in the background.

“hee, please,” you begged, impatient to feel his tongue.

“shh, my princess. i’ll make you forget about everything,” he whispered, his breath hitting your bud with every word he said.

he gave your lips a long lick, to which your eyes rolled back, pleasure already hitting you. the wet and filthy sounds he let out made you lose your mind. instinctively your hand took a hold of his hair, gripping it harshly. he let out a long moan against your folds, sending vibrations through your body.

“heeseung!” you moaned his name for the numberless time this evening, while he made out with your pussy in painfully slow motions. one of his hands unwrapped from the grip on your thigh to finally put one finger to your hole. he pumped it in and out at a steady pace, adding another finger with time, that along with him sucking on your clit felt like heaven on earth.

“i think i’m close!” you exclaimed feeling your climax getting closer and closer. without any warning, you came on his face. not wanting o waste any of your release he licked you clean, still fucking your hole to help you ride your high.

your grip on his hair loosened and you closed your eyes in pleasure. “my god, that was amazing.” you hid your face in your palms and tried to even out your breathing.

“as selfish as it sounds,” he started once you calmed down. “i wish you were so stressed a bit more frequently.”

[depressopax]

Dating Berlin headcanons

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

NSFW version

SFW version can be found here

Pairing: Andrés de Fonollosa x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. Semi-public, oral, cuss words, degradation, penetration Words: 1.2K Summary: Dating Berlin/Andrés would include…  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! AO3 link soon

Andrés is a switch… You can’t change my mind

He loves being on top of you, making you beg for him and his cock

…But he also loves being under you, letting you have your way with him while he submits to all of your wishes.

It totally depends on what you like in bed

And what mood he’s in. 

He has much stamina and a high sex drive, but sometimes he just likes being lazy, letting you take control while he lays down.

Basically a bit of a “pillow princess” lmao

When he’s being submissive, you’re all his.

He appreciates you being loving, of course

But he also gets turned on by you being rough, with degradation/insults and moving in a fast pace

Fuck it, he gets turned on by you choking him and “light” slaps on his face.

As long as you don’t leave big marks on his skin, he doesn’t mind. 

When he’s in control, he has two moods: - Passionate and slow - Fast and rough - No in between, usually.

He loves seeing you all helpless underneath him, making you a moaning, whimpering mess with his hard thrusts and fast pace

Just slutting you tf out

Heads up - if you ask him to be rough, homeboy will NOT hold back.

Seriously, when he says: “I’ll fuck you so you can’t walk straight” He means it. 

But of course he also loves to show his love to you with slow, passionate love-making sessions, so he calls them. 

Long strokes, lots of praise and kisses

Sex with Andrés means a lot of foreplay and some damn good aftercare.

He likes to really prepare you before penetrating you.

…Which you probably need. He is bigger than other men.

Which he brags about. ;)

He could (and probably will) tease you for hours.

Foreplay with him is usually cheesy. 

He lights candles, gives you massages, kisses you and rubs you in oils 

He knows what he does with both his hands/fingers and mouth 👀

He takes lot of time to make sure you’re ready

He wants you to beg for his cock before he gives it to you.

He uses condoms, but only if you ask him too.

Otherwise, he probably “forgets”

But sometimes he simply skips the foreplay and goes straight to action.

Usually this is when he’s frustrated, angry or really excited to see you (after being away from you etc)

Where he takes you doesn’t matter

He’ll bend you over anything, at any time, thrusting his cock into you whilst whispering praise

Or while ranting about why he’s in a bad mood - using sex as “therapy”.

When he’s in the mood, he’s a needy/clingy bitch

Sorry not sorry lol

Kissing your neck, playfully spanking your ass… You name it.

Doesn’t matter if you’re around people, he will not hesitate to tell you just how horny he is.

He doesn’t hide his boner from you, either.

Stands behind you, his clothed erection against your ass

You think he’s being annoying? “Do something about it” He’ll murmur with a big ass grin

Won’t stop until he gets to fuck you

OR until YOU fuck him.

He likes riling you up, getting you a bit mad only so you’ll be aggressive with him in bed.

During sex, he is either very serious, but can also crack a joke or two.

He tries to be “funny” especially if you are nervous during sex etc.

Your comfort is his top priority.

Lot of reassurance and questions “You ok?” “Does that feel good, mi amor?” “We’ll stop if you want to.”

He also praises you a lot “Fuck… Taking my cock so well.” “You’re so beautiful. So damn perfect”

When it comes to oral, Andrés doesn’t really have a preference either.

Like I said, this man is a switch.

It’s pretty easy to make him submit to you

Definitely will get on his knees if you ask him too - ready to please your needs

He likes squeezing your thighs, slapping your ass or stroking your stomach and chest when his lips/tongue works down there.

When he gives you oral, he’s very passionate and teasing

But if he’s really turned on tho - he’s messy. 

Sloppy oral sex where he uses a bit too much tongue- (I’m sorry 😭)

He could - probably would too - spend hours between your legs, tasting you

…Talks a bit too much “I could spend hours between your legs” “You taste so sweet, mi amor.” “That’s it… Lay back down and let me take care of you.”

Hot, but sometimes annoying lmao

When he’s the one receiving it? Lord have mercy-

Berlin tries to be nice and wants you to feel comfortable.

But how can he not push your head a bit?

If he feels mean, he pushes his hips up, making you gag on his cock.

He likes hearing you choke on him, and the tears in your eyes is a turn-on.

He likes finishing down your throat, holding your head still and basically fuck your face

But if YOU take charge - he’ll lay back down and let you control everything

Just tell him to “Be still”/”Don’t fucking move” and he’ll obey like a good boy <3

This is also one of the times when he’ll whimper and beg for you.

He thinks you’re so damn good at blowjobs, and legit begs for them all the time.

He’s extra sensitive when your mouth is around his member, and making him whimper and moan is easy peasy. 

He’s very rewarding after you give him heads, too.

Andrés is a bit of a kinky mf.

He def has some kind of daddy kink, wanting you to call him “daddy” in bed.

Honestly? He wouldn’t mind calling you mommy/daddy in bed too (if you’re into that lmao) - or he will do so just to tease you

He’s into light BDSM, and owns some nice pairs of blindfolds, ropes/handcuffs, a gag and some whips- 

The scene where he was tied up? Homeboy enjoyed that a bit too much Iykwim ;)

Sorry, but Andrés is definitely into cockwarming 👀

After finishing, he usually doesn’t pull out but instead keeps his softening member inside of you.

If you are into that too, he suggests for you to cockwarm him during nights.

He just loves being inside of you

When it comes to aftercare, he loves it.

Running you a hot bath, giving massages etc.

He is not the guy that asks for aftercare from you, but he does appreciate you taking care of him after you’ve topped him.

He likes to cuddle you 

Also likes having late night conversations with you, talking about dreams and the future, or just random bullshit.

He is very affectionate afterwards.

He loves and cherishes you and always tries showing it to you.

But after sex he is extra loving, which you can tell by the way he looks into your eyes

Or his smile.

To summarize… This man appreciates you no matter what and doesn’t care if he’s over or under you. He is a very passionate man and loves sex with you.

Did I just spend like 2h straight on writing a very detailed Berlin smut? Yep. No regrets 😭

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

One of Us is Guilty; Prologue

Eight people, nine rooms, seven weapons. One person is guilty, and until they are found, no one is safe; from the perpetrator of the crime, or of being accused.

Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Divus Crewel, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengroto, Silver, Jade Leech, Cater Diamond

Content; Gender-neutral reader, unreliable narrators

Content Warning; Death (not described), murder (not described)

Word Count; 1.3 K (includes guide on how to participate at the end)

Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Go to this Google Form! <- form is now closed, thank you to the people who voted!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)

You were making your way down the main flight of stairs, ready to go crawl into your bed after the long day.

“Attention! Attention!” Crowley’s voice echoed over the PA system, still annoyingly chipper despite the late hour. What was he even still doing here? “Due to the weather, all remaining staff and students are under orders to stay inside the building until morning!” And the PA system cut out.

You groaned, “Seriously? It can’t be that bad–” A loud crack of thunder sounded directly above the building, causing the chandelier to shake. “Okay then,” you huffed, plopping down on the stairs, “I get the message.”

Of course, you would get stuck here for the night, guess that’s what happens when you stay back to study and work on assignments.

But you weren’t the only person stuck in the desolate halls of Night Raven College; seven others were in the same boat as you.

…

Vil was in the lecture theatre, reviewing his notes for the upcoming performance that the Film Research Club would be putting on next week. He too heard Crowley’s announcement and pushed his hair back, massaging his temple. He would not be getting a good night’s rest tonight.

“Tch, no use lamenting over it,” he sighed to himself. Carefully, he put the notes and suggestions away in their designated folder, and he made his way to the main hall. If anyone was still here with him, they might be there; at least he would have some company for the night, and not be alone in the empty hallways.

…

Professor Crewel was grading papers in the teacher’s lounge, and getting a migraine from it as well. “Have those pups learned nothing from me,” he grumbled.

He would much rather be at home in his finest pyjamas, scratching the chins of his dogs, but no, he was stuck here, and would be stuck until the storm passed or Headmaster Crowley got back on the PA system saying it was safe to leave. But knowing his employer, the man had transported himself home, leaving everyone stuck at the college oblivious.

I ought to wring his neck if he did.

…

Rook was in the library, perusing through various books, just looking for something to pass the time. He knew earlier that day that a storm was brewing, he could tell by the clouds and the faint smell wafting on the breeze. He also knew that Vil would be staying late, and he wasn’t going to leave Roi de Poison alone.

After going down a few aisles, Rook finally found a book to his liking. “Hmm, this is new. Ah, how interesting!” Tucking the book under his arm, Rook made his way to the lecture theatre, as that was where he had last seen Vil.

Perhaps un meurtre mystère would make for a good plot for a future performance?

…

Silver had fallen asleep in the cafeteria, apparently he had slept for most of the day. He had only woken up because of Crowley’s voice echoing loudly in the large, empty room.

Did they not notice? Silver rubbed his eyes and yawned. If he was here, there was a possibility of others also finding themselves stuck in the school for the night. The least he could do was make sure others were staying calm, and staying safe. Even outside of his duties he was ever still the protector, and far too kind.

“Hopefully no one got hurt…” he murmured to himself. There was something off, a dark presence of sorts, and it wasn’t just the dark clouds hurling down rain, hail, and lightning outside.

Something doesn’t feel right…

…

Azul was in the alchemy lab, perfecting the most complicated potion that was in his textbook; he had a reputation to upkeep after all, and didn’t want anyone usurping his rank at the top of the class.

There, I just need to add some belladonna and— the suddenness of Crowley’s overly loud voice coming over the PA system caused Azul to add too much, and the potion evaporated. Azul gritted his teeth, but took a step back. Perhaps a walk would help calm him down… he was going to have to replace all of those ingredients tomorrow…

“So close,” he hissed, and he started making his way down the hall, still muttering to himself.

…

Jade was washing the dirt from his hands, having just come back from checking on his fungi in the botanical gardens. He already knew before Crowley made his little announcement that he would be spending the night, which didn’t bother him all that much. Perhaps he could see what was in the kitchen, since he did have that new dish which looked and sounded to be divine.

But that could wait, Azul was most likely still working on that potion of his, and knowing the house warden, he had fumbled with the ingredients at the sudden noise and probably sulking… and Jade could use some amusement at the moment, and a sulking and slightly peeved Azul would do the trick.

…

Cater was in the kitchen, retrieving something for Trey since they were all out in the Heartslabyul kitchen. Of course it was something sweet, but Cater would rather be here than see the outcome of the freshmans’ antics. Sorry freshies, you’re on your own!

But now he was stuck here for the night, and having nothing better to do, and boredom starting to creep in, Cater brought out his phone and started recording. 

“It’s Cay-kun here!~” He gave a peace sign to the camera and stuck out his tongue. “Let’s see who we can find!” And he started chatting to the camera and walking towards the main hall.

…

…

Eventually, everyone had made their way to the main hall; you, Silver, Vil, Professor Crewel, Rook, Azul, Jade, and Cater. But there was no sign of Headmaster Crowley.

“Have any of you pups seen the Headmaster,” Divus asked, turning up a brow, and looked at his students with suspicion.

Everyone shook their head no. Divus sighed, and turned around the corner, in the direction of the Headmaster’s office, but he stopped in his tracks.

Curious, you looked to where Professor Crewel was staring; lying in the middle of the floor was Crowley, and he wasn’t breathing.

Dire Crowley was dead, murdered. And everyone was a suspect, including you.

About this Event

That's right folks, a classic murder mystery in the style of the board game Clue and some inspiration from the book And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.

At the beginning and end of each part, I will be including a link to a Google Form where people can vote for who they think is the murderer, what room the murder took place in, and the weapon that was used. There's also an optional question where you can explain your answer, just do know that everything was randomly chosen by a spinner.

The form will be active for at least 72 hours; it may go on for longer if I'm busy. A new form will be added with each part, just with the suspect, room, & weapon that was voted in the last part being removed if they were incorrect... and may take some inspo from the book I mentioned.~

In future parts there will be dark content, as this is a murder mystery; all of the content warnings will be included at the beginning, and also tagged (ie. cw death). Because of this, I will not be tagging people in future parts just as a precaution.

Now, let the investigation begin!

Link to Google Form

Suspects:

- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley's co-worker (Peacock) - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what's happening (Mustard) - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the 'house-keeper', a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach)

Rooms:

- Main hall - Teachers' lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab - Library - Crowley's office

Weapons:

- Revolver - Rope - Dagger - Wrench - Candlestick - Lead pipe - Magic

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @aqua-beam, @azulashengrottospiano, @eynnwwyjth, @hisui-dreamer, @hydra-sea, @identity-theft-101, @inkybloom-luv, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @leonistic, @lucid-stories, @officialdaydreamer00, @ryker-writes, @savanaclaw1996, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[whumpslist]

Zorro’s whumps’ list

(referred to main character Zorro / Diego de la Vega, portrayed by Miguel Bernardeau; *bonus: Enrique Monasterio, portrayed by Emiliano Zurita.]

Season 1

.01: brief scuffle and under swordpoint during a training session, received upsetting news about his father's death and tears in his eyes, grief, shot at and unpleasant confrontation, nightmare and rough awakening, upsetting news and conflicted, fought against multiple armed soldiers twice, rough sword fight, zorroed himself on his chest.

.02: red fresh Z sign on his chest from previous episode, into a hostage situation during a robbery and under gunpoint, pistol-whipped at his neck, under gunpoint, scuffle and almost shot, worried and defeated, conflicted, brief scuffles and sword fight.

.03: harsh confrontation and sort of shot at, various scuffles, gun pointed at his head, disappointed, lured into a trap and under gunpoint, under gunfire and captured, hands tied above his head and identity exposed, upsetting news and almost shot in the face.

.04: hands tied above his head from previous episode, stabbed and heavily breathing, collapsed and dragged by his arms, laying unable to move and heavily breathing, moaning, falling from the horse, taken care of, feverish, upset but unable to leave the bed, shirt stained with blood after an effort and fainted, helped laying on the bed and wound exposed and bleeding, moaning helped getting undressed, Z scar on his chest, pale, wound taken care of, hand pushed against the wound and groaning in pain, under arrow point, into a duel with swords.

.05: upset, blade at his throat twice, Z scar on his chest, brief scuffle against two armed men, under gunfire and brief scuffles, under gunpoint, disappointed.

.06: ackward conversation and uneasy, Z scar on his chest, upset, brief scuffle, under gunpoint, under gunpoint and chloroformed, passed out and kidnapped, slapped in the face and helped getting up, pointed the gun at his own head and pressed the trigger without consequences, chloroformed again and grabbed when collapsed, upset; *bonus Enrique Monasterio: shot with an arrow at his shoulder, bloody and taken care of.

.07: blackmailed, rough scuffle and pushed to the ground, blade at his throat and heavily panting, upset and heartbroken, difficult conversation and conflicted, annoyed.

.08: brief scuffle, threatened and upset, bitten, angry and argued, rough fight and stabbed, upset and crying.

.09: unpleasant conversation and identity exposed, massaging his injured leg, under gunpoint, sword fight, grieving his father and tears on his cheeks, upset and conflicted, indignant, stabbed in flank and shot at, fallen from the horse semi-unconscious and taken care of, groaning and heavily breathing, grunting in pain and passed out.

.10: holding his flank because of the injury from previous episode, received upsetting news and agitated, moaning during physical effort, harsh confrontation (on purpose), intense sword duel, harsh confrontation (for fake), under gunpoint, rough sword fight and cut at his thigh, stabbed in the back and collapsed on his knees, almost killed, grunting in pain while getting up, pale and sweating, upset, silently crying on his father's grave, rejected, emotional goodbye; *bonus Enrique Monasterio: intense sword duel, stabbed and collapsed (dead for fake), shot at then swordfights.

In the original book "The Mark of Zorro" (1919) by Johnston McCulley: brief scuffle, various chases, rejected, brief scuffle, fought and chased, sword duel without consequences, surrounded and rescued.

[freesia-writes]

Ch 34: Attack

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 3.4k Fanart by @autistic-artistech!!

Hunter slipped silently through the door of Lyra’s cottage, knife in one hand to brace his blaster in the other as he scanned the hallway, sharp eyes moving constantly. He stepped slowly, avoiding the creaky spots of the wooden floor that he didn’t realize he’d memorized. As he peeked around the corner to the main room, he froze, dumbstruck.

Lyra was tied to a chair in the middle of her own living room, tears on her cheeks illuminated by the glow of her fireplace, and Luciana loomed above her with a menacing glare. 

“Where is it?” she hissed, fist clenched at her side. As she turned, a rush of adrenaline pumped through Hunter’s veins as he spotted a blaster in her other hand. 

“I told you I don’t have it,” Lyra whimpered.

“First you said the evidence was in the safe. Then there was no safe. Now you’re saying someone else has it. You think I don’t know who? You’re stalling, and I’m sick of it!”

Lyra remained silent, eyes tightly shut in hopeless despair.

“Hunter’s not coming to save you,” Luciana taunted with smug satisfaction. Her beautiful features were contorted into rage, her typically bright smile twisted in a sinister grin. “He’s going to be busy for quite a while. You’re going to talk one way or the other, so stop wasting time. If you don’t have the evidence, where is your daughter?”

Pain and fear emanated from Lyra’s helpless form.

“Where is your daughter?” Luciana demanded. “I know you went to find her on Keytoll. Then you two both ‘died’, or so you led them to believe, until you showed up here. So where is she?”

A minute shake of the head was the only response. 

Luciana slapped her across the face. 

“Where’s Breslin?!” she screamed, poking the blaster closer. Lyra slowly raised her head, finally meeting Luciana’s blazing eyes with her own, and took a shuddering breath. A sudden stillness settled over her, and her voice was low as she spoke with clarity and conviction.

“I’ll never tell you.”

“Agh!” Luciana yelled in frustration, lowering the blaster to her side and clawing at the ropes to free Lyra from the chair before yanking her to her feet with a sharp tug on her bicep. “Get up! You’re going to take me to her or I’m going to start shooting you to pieces little by little!” She pushed her forward sharply toward the hallway where Hunter was watching, tense and ready. As he leaned out slightly, hoping to de-escalate the situation, both women spotten him with a gasp. 

“Oh, babe, you’re supposed to be enjoying your massage,” Luciana taunted, her voice now sickly sweet. 

“Give me the blaster,” he said, his own fixed on her above his knife. 

“Afraid I can’t do that, sweetheart.” She let out a disconcertingly sinister giggle, then jerked Lyra back toward her, looping an arm around her shoulders to brace her against her chest. She lifted the blaster to Lyra’s temple, pressing it into the skin beside her tightly-clenched eyes. “Your pathetic girlfriend here has something for me.”

“We don’t need to do it this way,” Hunter said smoothly. He was the perfect voice of reason, completely unfazed with effortless stability, but his sharp eyes were on her like a hawk. “Let her go and we’ll sort it out.”

“You know I don’t like being told what to do,” Luciana taunted, squeezing Lyra more tightly and shoving her a step forward. “Now get out of the way or I’ll make you.”

“Hey,” Hunter said softly, not looking away from Luciana. The warmth in his tone coaxed Lyra to open her eyes, finding his stoic face immediately. “I know you can make me. You threw me over your shoulder at the farmer’s market,” he said quietly, eyes darting for a split second to Lyra before returning to the threat. “When we were promoting the self defense workshop where we taught how to get out of holds.”

He saw Lyra tense, and he could have staggered beneath the sheer wave of panic that radiated from her. He could feel it all – her hesitation, her terror, her disbelief, and the single flicker of hope that signaled her intent. Slowly nodding his head, he began calculating his shot. 

“Cute. Too bad this sorry bag of bones didn’t–”

Lyra released her knees and dropped her full weight without warning. Luciana’s arm smacked her chin as she fell, but she was on the floor in an instant. Hunter moved immediately.

A blue flash of light. 

Luciana dropped. 

Lyra gasped. 

A second passed.

Hunter emerged from the hallway, sheathing his knife and holstering the blaster. He took Luciana’s from where it had landed beside her motionless form and set it on the table behind him as he quickly kneeled in front of Lyra, whose body wracked with involuntary trembles. 

“You alright?” he asked. A ridiculous question.

“No.”

A flicker of a smile touched his face. “I mean, are you hurt anywhere? Did she do anything else to you?”

“No,” came the small reply. She rubbed her arms where they’d been tied, then clasped her hands together in front of her, pressing her lips to them as she tried and failed to regain her composure, unable to meet his eyes.

He waited for a moment, awkwardly hovering on his knees, and reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm. Lyra finally looked at him, innumerable emotions flying across her face, and her clumsy rush to collapse into his arms knocked him onto his butt, legs splayed to keep his balance. He shifted his back against the wall, slowly opening his arms around her as she tucked herself into a pathetic little ball and she dissolved into tears against him.

He rested his face against the top of her head and remained silent, mind racing and body buzzing. Her familiar floral scent slipped into his awareness, its subtle sweetness a stark contrast to the sorrow and fear and alarm radiating from her. He took a deep breath, silently inviting her to do the same as he emanated security and calm, and he felt the slightest bit of tension subside.

They sat that way for a while, Lyra doing her best to reign in the sobs that wracked her body, yet Hunter could sense the outpouring of grief that seemed not only about Luciana’s attack, but about everything. He acknowledged the ache in his own chest as he felt her cold body nestled against him, and tendrils of warmth and yearning drifting up from deep in his core. He hugged her closer, turning to rest his lips against her hair, and closed his eyes. 

He would be there as long as she needed. 

.

Artwork by @autistic-artistech -- go love on it HERE! And shout out to @noblelightfighter for mentioning the self-defense move of dropping to the ground coming in handy later (because I changed this scene and added it based on that genius comment, LOL).

.

Minutes ticked by, punctuated only by the occasional shudder or sniff from Lyra where she’d nestled into his front. Eventually, she settled enough to push away and sit up, wiping her eyes and refusing to meet his gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, picking herself up and offering him a hand, which he took and nimbly climbed to his feet. She slowly returned the chair to its place at the dining table, then stood still, arms hanging at her sides as she stared blankly at the floor.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, approaching with hands slightly out to his sides. “Want to sit?“ He beckoned toward the couch. She nodded and set herself in the middle of it, still in a daze. He was inexplicably drawn to her, feelings of compassion and protectiveness swelling in his chest, and sat tentatively beside her as she leaned forward to bury her face in her hands.

“What a mess,” she lamented. “I am so sorry to have dragged you into all of it.“

“Yeah…” he said, anxious at how his own potentially ill-timed attempt at humor would be received. “You should have warned me.”

A laugh burst out of her at the ridiculousness of it all, forcing its way past the heavy layers of shock and surprising her as it came out. She looked up at him, the lines in her face seeming to deepen, and he stretched an arm across the back of the couch behind her as a gentle invitation. A moment of hesitation held her back, as though she were deciding if she were worthy of his sympathy or not, but eventually she nestled against his side with a visible release of tension.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she admitted, turning her face away in shame. “I wish I’d done things differently. I really screwed everything up.”

“We both did.”

The fact rested heavily between them, weaving together common threads of trust and preservation that they’d relied upon their entire lives. Hunter sighed. 

“There’s a bounty hunter on my floor,” Lyra noted, staring at Luciana’s unconscious form. Hunter followed her glance, shaking his head in disbelief. How had he been fooled so completely? The entire thing felt like an odd sort of nightmare, and in the vulnerability of the current moment, adrenaline having flooded both of them entirely, he was floored by the depth of his desire to “return to normal”. But what was normal? As he pulled Lyra a little closer, feeling her heart beating against his ribcage, a sense of longing steadily grew stronger as all the ill-fitted stresses of the last few months began to fade.

“She’s a bounty hunter?” he said, returning to the issue at hand.

“Apparently. She snuck into my house and wrestled me into the chair, demanding that damn evidence I had from so long ago. I panicked… I didn’t know what to do. I tried to stall her but she was getting crazy… Then I remembered that little button you gave me, for Omega originally… So I told her it was the release for a safe, and she pressed it, but when she started looking for the safe, she knew I had lied.”

“She was hired to get that old stuff from you?”

“Yeah. She tracked me here… years ago! It was terrifying that she was here all along, but apparently she was waiting for me to lead her to Breslin, because the bounty for both of us was much larger.”

“So she tracked you to Keytoll and tried to have you captured there…” he began to put the pieces together.

“Yes,” she sighed, reaching an arm around the front of his waist as though she needed all the comfort he was willing to offer. “Sorry, is this too much?” She suddenly realized her actions and sat up in a moment of alarm. 

“No,” said Hunter quietly, and grateful relief emanated from her as she resumed her position, prompting a wave of fondness within him as well. “That explains why she was so affected when she saw you here again, if she thought you two were dead…”

“Mmhmm,” she said sadly. “She reported it back to that nasty politician’s office to try to get her reward again, but apparently their patience was gone. She had to deliver or “she’d be next” or something. So the pressure was on, but she was desperate to get Breslin too.”

“She told you all this?”

“She was ranting like a crazy person when she first tied me up,” Lyra shuddered. “Angry at having to wait so long, scared of their threats, obsessed with getting what she  was ‘owed’… Ugh.” She trembled, still thoroughly shaken, and Hunter rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back.

“I suppose I was just a way to get information about you,” he muttered, but she picked herself up a bit and shook her head. 

“She could have done that easily, I would think. You were just a treat along the way.” A pathetic breathy chuckle was the best she could do, and he resisted the urge to groan aloud. 

“According to the ladies in your office, I’m more of a ‘snack’, whatever that means.”

“Food metaphors are usually positive.”

“As they should be.”

He was struck by the effortless way they settled into one another, although what would have been playful banter still felt hollow and fake, as though they were trying to recover some semblance of normalcy after a giant plot twist that definitely no one saw coming. At the same time, he didn’t want it to be fake. He found himself pining for the quiet connection, the leisurely enjoyment of the simple things in life. A ribbon of fear laced itself around his heart as he wondered if it was something they ever could have again, and the thought moved him to speak after a long silence.

“I’m a clone,” he blurted out, the fortifications around his own secrets beginning to crumble as he considered how she had truly bared her soul over and over now. Lyra opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, waiting patiently. “I was created in a lab during the war. Genetically modified and enhanced. Part of Clone Force 99. My brothers are clones too.”

“But you’re all so different,” she said.

“We were engineered with various specialties,” he explained, feeling an increasing lightness as he opened up. “We were sent on missions throughout the war, and after Order 66, we had to fend for ourselves… Find a new way to live in a changing galaxy.”

He continued on, pouring out his past as a peace offering between them. He shared about Omega. About Tech. About Crosshair. About Tantiss. All of it. By the time he finished, he was choking back his own tears at the sheer weight of all that they’d been through, and he clenched his jaw, swallowing hard.

Lyra rested against him in silence, having given him little squeezes of support at poignant moments in his story. When he stopped and remained quiet, she sat up slowly, observing his sharp features conflicted with a myriad of emotions. The depth of the concern and empathy on her face tugged at his heartstrings, and when she tentatively lifted a shaky hand to graze his cheek with the backs of her fingers, he let his eyes close for a second. She pulled away, sitting back to rub her face before dropping her hands with an exhausted stare at the flickering flames in the hearth.

“So what do we do now?” Her question hung heavily between them, as though they stood at an intersection of paths.

“Good question.”

She sighed. It was late, the glow from the planet’s moons barely penetrating the thick cloud cover, and Lyra glanced helplessly around the room as though it would give her the answer.

“What about her?” she finally asked, fear touching her face as she looked at Luciana. 

Hunter shifted slightly to free his blaster from its holster, flicking a switch on the side and raising it at the motionless pile on the ground. 

“Wait! Hunter! No!” Lyra yelled in utter panic. 

“It’s set to stun,” he reassured her, showing her the gun as though she were familiar with its components. “It’ll keep her out til morning at least.” 

With a cringe of trepidation from Lyra, he pointed it back at Luciana, flashing a few rays of the bright blue light over her body. 

“So now I’m supposed to sleep, after all that, with her in my house?” 

“She���s not waking up anytime soon,” he confirmed.

“Yeah… But still.” She twisted her hands anxiously. “I mean, I don’t think I can sleep anyway. But I also feel like I could collapse right here.”

“Mmm,” Hunter nodded. “Pretty normal response to shock.” 

Lyra stared at Luciana, gaze growing distant as she tried to have any coherent thought but just felt completely drained. She shifted in her seat, casting a sideways glance at Hunter’s knees, then slowly lifted her eyes to his face. 

“Will… Will you stay?” she asked, voice small and vulnerable. Again his chest filled with protectiveness. He hadn’t realized quite how emasculated he’d felt for the last few months, and it was deeply affirming to be reminded of his own strength and capability. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “I don’t want to be a burden. I could help you carry her to the local jail instead…” She was grasping for options, and he resisted the urge to chuckle at the mental image. 

“I could carry her myself,” he reminded her, the shadow of a smile on his lips. “But I’ll sleep here on the couch and keep an eye on her.”

“I feel bad asking anything of you,” Lyra admitted, shrinking beneath her own self-hate for all that had transpired. “I don’t deserve it, Hunter. You should be free to live your life without all this… chaos. You’ve had more than your share, and I only make it worse.”

He waited for a moment, tendrils of pity swirling around the deep affection he felt, and then responded as soothingly as he was able. His words carried more weight than he’d anticipated as he spoke them aloud.

“I’ll stay.”

She nodded, eyes glistening.

Lyra decided to try to sleep, murmuring her sheepish thanks again and bringing a little smirk to Hunter’s face as he heard the lock on her bedroom door click once she was inside. She came right back out though, moving quickly as though embarrassed at her own forgetfulness, and offered him the softest, fluffiest blanket she owned before retreating to her room again.

Hunter laid down on the couch, pulling the cover around himself until it felt as though he were wrapped in a warm hug. Everything about this place was cozy to him. But he furrowed his brow at Luciana, his mind gearing up to strategize about every possible way to deal with that whole situation. He was surprised at how little he actually felt as he reflected on their time together, especially in comparison to the profound sense of emptiness and hurt that had burdened him since Keytoll. Granted, he’d had a lot more time to put down roots with Lyra… 

None of it mattered now, though. Part of him felt insulted while other parts felt relieved, and beneath it all there was a chasm cracking open as he ruminated on the fact that he’d been so thoroughly fooled. The exhaustion was beginning to settle deep in his bones, and he tucked his head against the armrest, angling it toward Luciana’s motionless body. He forced his eyes closed, other senses working overtime in hypervigilant rebellion against the sleep he so desperately craved. It would likely be a long night.

* * * 

The first light of dawn was peeking through the windows when Hunter woke with a start, a wave of apprehension sending goosebumps across his skin. His eyes flew to where Luciana had been laying, relieved to see that nothing had changed. And yet something was different. Tuning in to everything he could sense, his pulse echoed in his ears as he waited. Something was about to happen. 

The beams of light through Lyra’s gauzy curtains were brightening at too fast a rate for a typical sunrise, and he noticed wispy tendrils dancing through them. An odd sensation gripped him, the same sort he’d experienced beneath the waterfall, and the light developed that same bluish-green hue as it streamed toward Luciana. He sat up, reaching for his weapons as he watched like a hawk. Her body was bathed in the blue light, the delicate curls fluttering across before reaching her head, where they came together and swirled around before disappearing into her body, and he saw her sides rise and fall in a deep breath. 

His hand tensed on the blaster hidden at his side.

Luciana stirred, rolling onto her stomach and pushing herself up to a seated position. Rubbing her eyes, she looked blearily around the room with a quiet groan as she stretched stiff muscles from being crumpled in the same position for so long. When her eyes landed on Hunter, a sheepish smile curved her rosy cheeks. 

“Well hi,” she said in the cutesy voice she used to endear herself to people. 

Hunter nodded, watching her every move. 

“I guess that was quite a night,” she giggled, running her fingers through her red curls to smooth them into place. “I probably should have led with this, or maybe I did, but I’m Luci.”

.

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[onlyonetifosi]

Hey, could you write something for Valentine’s day in Behind the camera please 🫶

Bonus behind the camera -> Valentine's day especial

lets pretend Carla and Arthur are still together (i loved them, i miss them) and that Lorenzo and Charlotte are engaged

series masterlist my main masterlist

The sun had just begun to illuminate the picturesque streets of Monaco as Yn woke up to the sweet aroma of breakfast in bed. She rubbed her eyes, smiling as she saw Joris, her boyfriend and childhood best friend, placing a tray filled with delicious treats on her lap

"Joyeuse Saint-Valentin, ma belle," Joris greeted, presenting her with a tray laden with heart-shaped pancakes, fresh fruits, and a steaming cup of coffee.

"Bon matin, ma belle," Joris greeted, leaning in to give Yn a tender kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, my love," Yn replied, her heart fluttering at the endearment. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have Joris in her life. This looks amazing, you're spoiling me already" Yn exclaimed, giving him a sweet kiss.

As they enjoyed their breakfast, Yn and Joris spoke of plans for the day. Little did Yn know, Joris had arranged a surprise spa day for them.

"J'ai réservé une journée au spa pour nous deux, mon amour," Joris revealed with a twinkle in his eye. (I've booked a day at the spa for us, my love.)

Yn's eyes lit up with excitement. "C'est parfait! Merci, Joris!" (That's perfect! Thank you, Joris!)

After a relaxing spa experience and a luxurious massage and some time in the sauna, they felt refreshed and ready for the rest of their day. 

As they relaxed in the spa's thermal pools, Yn sighed contentedly. "C'est vraiment le paradis, Jo." (It's truly paradise, Jo)

Joris chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from Yn's face. "Je suis heureux que tu apprécies, mon cœur." (I'm glad you're enjoying it)

The couple returned home for a cozy afternoon nap. Wrapped in each other's arms, they exchanged sweet nothings, cherishing the simple pleasure of being together.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. Let's enjoy the city, ma chérie." Joris whispered as Yn stirred from her nap

"Alright, let's go" Yn looked at him with sleepy eyes but agreed

Upon waking, they decided to take a leisurely stroll around Monaco. Hand in hand, they wandered through the charming streets of Monaco, taking in the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. Yn's favorite boutiques beckoned, and they stopped for coffee at her beloved café.

"Mon amour, j'adore passer du temps avec toi." (My love, I adore spending time with you.) Joris whispered, intertwining his fingers with Yn's

"Et moi aussi, Jojo. C'est une journée parfaite." (And me too. It's a perfect day)

As evening approached, Yn and Joris joined her family for a Valentine's Day dinner. The Leclerc household buzzed with laughter and joy as they all gathered around the table.

"Bonsoir, ma sœur! Joyeuse Saint-Valentin!" Charles exclaimed, kissing Yn on both cheeks.

"Bonsoir, Charlie! Joyeuse Saint-Valentin à toi aussi," Yn replied, returning the gesture.

The dinner table was filled with lively conversations, as they all shared stories and laughter. 

As they sat around the table, Lorenzo had an announcement.

"Nous avons une grande nouvelle à partager," he said, holding Charlotte's hand. (We have some big news to share.)

Yn's eyes widened as Charlotte showed off her engagement ring. "Nous allons nous marier!" Lorenzo announced happily. (We are getting married!)

The room erupted in cheers and congratulations. Yn hugged her brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law, genuinely happy for them.

Yn stole glances at her older brother Charles, happy to see him so content with his girlfriend, Alexandra.

"Je suis tellement heureux pour toi, Cha," Yn said, expressing her happiness for her brother. (I am so happy for you, Charles.)

"Merci, Yn. Et toi, Joris, prends bien soin de ma sœur, d'accord?" Charles playfully warned Joris. (Thank you, Yn. And you, Joris, take good care of my sister, okay?)

Joris nodded with a smile, "Bien sûr, Charles. Toujours." (Of course, Charles. Always.)

The night concluded with shared desserts, laughter, and a feeling of warmth that only family and true love could bring. As Yn and Joris exchanged glances, they knew that this Valentine's Day would be etched in their hearts forever.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie

[fanandfiction]

For Lunch

How Arcane Characters Would Eat You Out... (part 2)

Summary: A balanced diet usually consists of three meals a day. Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. Which will you be joining us for today?

AN: Surprise, I live! One minute I’m having a manic episode, writing every day for a whole two weeks, the next thing I know 4 months go by and my will to live has been completely nonexistent. Don’t you fear though bc low incomes got your back and for the time being I’ve got my ✨sparkle✨ back! (take your medication kids! you wouldn’t have it if you didn’t need it!)

Word Count: 2.06k words

Warnings: +18 MDNI, Cunnilingus, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Cheating, Overstimulation, Jayce is a switch lmao, Threesome, F/F/M, Mild Exhibitionism, Mild Voyeurism, Spanking, Corruption kink, Mild Dubious Consent.

Characters: F! Reader, Jayce (ft Mel), Cassandra, Silco, Vi. (You can tell who my favorites are 😣)

THERE IS NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Cassandra sips a glass of red wine from her office balcony most mornings. As the councilwoman’s secretary, you usually scurry around the office or run small errands for her in the city.  Some days, when her silly little husband or naive daughter works her nerves just right, Cassandra needs to release her pent-up frustration. That’s where you come in. It’s your job to alleviate her stress and workload; what better way to relieve stress than having your secretary bent over your desk for brunch? You were always so good to her, never causing her the stress her daughter did, always willing to try the things her husband would shy away from.

One of Cassandra’s dainty gloved hands massages your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as her other hand is lodged in your sopping pussy, slowly fucking you with her long, slender fingers. It’s a privilege to have an audience with the councilwoman like this, so if you want to cum, you must beg for her, she says. At the same time, she’ll exhale lightly against your clit, teasing you all the more. You have no choice but to beg for her, not that you weren’t seconds away from dissolving in a blubbering mess anyway. The stimulation from her fingers alone was divine, but they were nowhere near enough to get you close to the edge. So you do, like a pathetic little puppy, you beg for her. You plead for her to let her anger and frustration out on you.

            “Please, Miss,” you whimper. “Use me, give me all your stress. I’ll take it, all of it.” 

 If Cassandra’s feeling nice, she’s quick to give you what you asked so nicely for.  She’ll move you to your back with your legs spread to make it easier on her own - you will never catch the counselor on her knees for anyone. She’s quick to press her de-gloved fingers back into your pulsing entrance, her mouth joining them this time, nibbling and suckling your clit. You try your hardest not to scream in pleasure- the last thing you want to do is alert someone to what is happening. But with all her stimulation, you can feel yourself tumbling toward the edge. Failure is inevitable, and you moan loudly when your orgasm consumes you. 

Cassandra slows for maybe a minute as you're coming to, your pussy is pulsing around her fingers, and you’re trying to flinch away from how sensitive you feel, but she’s not stopping. She chuckles into you, steadying you with her free hand, “I’m still very frustrated, my dear. And we haven’t even gotten to the main course. I’m afraid you might need to readjust my schedule after lunch.” 

Jayce would have you at the grand table in the conference hall after a relatively gruesome meeting. He would claim that after such a long boring conference, he needed a snack- he was “just absolutely famished.” You were quick to offer yourself to him, and he wasn’t hesitant to accept your offer. Jayce happily lapped at your cunt, savoring your juices almost as if he had been without food and water for weeks. There was nothing more Jayce wanted than to taste your sweet release, and he had you close to cumming relatively quickly. Jayce is incredibly skilled with his mouth; while his tongue works dutifully, leaving long broad strokes through your folds, one of his hands stimulates your clit. His thumb circles it without remorse, and you’re sure you’re falling apart then and there. But to your surprise and dismay, he halts his movements. 

“Well, don’t stop now that you’ve gotten caught,” Councilwoman Medarda stood tall and as elegant as ever in the doorway. You didn’t hear her come in. In shock, you try to get up, but Jayce halts you. Heeding her wishes, Jayce continues, holding you in place with his free hand. 

“I- Councilwoman- I-I’m sorry!” You squeak, trying to shuffle away from the persistent counselor between your legs. 

She strolls into the room, her hips delightfully swaying as she makes her way to join you. “Don’t be. You’re not the one in trouble- What a good aide you’ve been, helping this greedy dog get his fix,” Mel says. She stands in the inner portion of the table, near your head, peering down at you. She reaches down and begins gently massaging your breasts. “I think if the poor dog wants to eat so bad, we should let him eat, and eat, and eat until his heart's content.” 

There's no time for you to ponder or even process what she means. Your first orgasm comes crashing over you as Jayce takes your clit between his lips and pushes his fingers into your dripping heat. He doesn’t stop, and you can quickly feel the familiar tension returning in your lower abdomen. You attempt and fail to choke back sobs from the overstimulation. His fingers thrust in and out of you with remarkable precision and consistency. As you cum a second time, Mel comforts you by wiping the sweat from your brow and cooing gently in your ear. “There, there. If you waste all your tears night now, you won’t have any for the main event.”

Silco was a busy, busy man. It’s hard work running the undercity and raising a daughter with a loaded, trauma-filled past. So naturally, after a relatively long week of chem barron negotiations that went virtually nowhere, Silco’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t have time to entertain you or put up with your bratty antics. That, however, has never stopped you, and you don’t take neglect from your beloved too well. If anything, it makes it ten times harder on Silco. You ramp up your brattiness and constantly interrupt his work until he snaps, deciding nothing can move forward until you’re punished. 

Paper and pens are strewn off his large oak desk in seconds, and your body replaces them just as quickly. You're bent over the cold surface, standing on the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him. Your knuckles pale as your grip tightens in anticipation around the edge of the desk. “Is this what you wanted, my attention?” Silco says as he makes quick work of discarding your undergarments. You hum “yes” happily when the cool air hits your sopping cunt. 

“Well, now you’ve got it, my little dove,” he says, groping and massaging the globes of your ass. Don’t be fooled. Silco isn’t letting you off scot-free. Not after all the strife you’ve caused him. His right hand lifts from your ass, and before you have time to register what he might do with it, it’s coming back down hard against your behind. You let out a surprised squeak, tensing when Silco grabs the tingling flesh.  

“ Count them,” he says simply. With little warning, the next one comes down as ruthlessly as the first. 

One, two, three, four, five. You heed his command and count each one. Every harsh slap is heavy and quick, causing your breath to become quick and shallow. 

Your ass is on fire, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from clenching desperately around nothing. As Silco harshly squeezes your burning flesh, his thumb makes its way to massage your tight button hole and your pussy entrance, teasing you. You whine and whither in his grasp. “Do you need something?” Silco’s low vibrato causes shivers to run down your spine. 

“ I need you, please,” you whimper pathetically. 

“We’ll get there, dove…Right now, we’re teaching you a thing or two about patience,” You can feel Silco’s warm breath graze against your entrance. “Keep counting.” He says as laps at your pussy.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. He slaps your neglected left side just as aggressively as the other. Both sides tingle, radiating heat as Silco devours you. It’s hard for you to focus, but you manage all while grinding back into Silco’s mouth. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Silco can tell you’re close by how you tense around his tongue, and your legs start quivering. He moves to suck on your sensitive clit, and you grind backward onto his nose. Moments later you're tipping over the edge, Silco guiding you through every second of pleasure. 

Once you’ve caught your breath, Silco retreats, you don’t dare to move or get up. You hear him lick his wet lips and the metal buckle of his pants come undone. “Now onto the main course, my dove.” 

Due to her hostile nature, Vi had spent the first several years of her sentence alone within the concrete walls of Stillwater. The only human interaction she’d had was between meal times when the guards would bring her a tray of gray slop and stale bread or during hygiene hour when she is granted daily access to the showers. One day that changed, instead of being delivered the usual atrocity that was lunch, you’re delivered. Whether it be because her behavior improved or because the prison had reached a certain capacity, Vi didn’t know. When she got a good look at you, she quickly decided she was grateful to have a new cellmate either way. 

This innocence radiated from you, something Vi craved and hadn’t had for a long time. Something about you just screams, “she doesn’t belong here.” There's no way you were in this shit hole on anything more than petty charges, false ones even, Vi pondered. 

You fall into your place in the natural hierarchy so easily as well. Vi didn’t have to fight or intimidate you for anything. She was in charge from the beginning. Food, necessities- anything she asks of you, you give her. You never ask much of it. She kept peering guards off your back and ensured no bigger fish came to snatch you up. Although, maybe you should’ve been more aware of the peering eyes just behind you or the monster sleeping above you, waiting for the perfect moment to devour you whole. 

Before long, the tension you seem too naive to notice becomes almost overbearing for Vi. She’d asked you to scrub her down in the shower, wash her hair, and dry her off. You had done so dutifully, assuming the way she twitched beneath your fingers was due to stress and fatigue. It wasn’t until you found yourself face down against the cool bathroom counter and stripped of your lower garments that you considered anything else. 

“V-Vi!?” you stammer. Alarmed, you begin to thrash, trying desperately to face your cellmate. Only you find it’s futile. With one hand, Vi has your arms in a firm, unrelenting hold behind your back. 

“So innocent, so precious,” She drags out her words like a snake, grabbing and massaging your bare ass with her free hands. “I could just eat you whole.” 

Vi leaves you with no time to ponder her words before her warm mouth finds your cunt. She moans loudly at the taste sending vibrations coursing through you. You try to fight her, but your resolve is already weakening drastically, and your thrashing only serves to push you further into her warmth. 

“Mmh,” she hums. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

“Please…” you whimper. 

“Please what? Do you want more?” She teases. Before you have time to deny her accusations, two of her fingers join her mouth, thrusting into your dripping hole. The feeling immediately shatters what’s left of your will to fight back. Kitten-like mews and whorish whimpers erupt from your throat. 

“There, there,” she coos, as your walls tense and un-tense tightly around her fingers. She can tell you’re close already.

Her mouth finds its way to your sensitive clit, and she begins sucking hard. With the combined efforts of her mouth and fingers, you're cumming in no time. Screaming out her name as your release finds you, your juices spill down Vi’s face. 

When she stands, her reflection in the mirror serves as your only method of looking at her. She wears a proud smirk on her face, watching as you pant and twitch beneath her. “What a good little slut you are. When we are done, everyone in Stillwater will know who you belong to.”

Next part- For Dinner - Set to include: Sevika, Renata Glasc, Finn, Jinx, Ambessa Medarda

[smallmariofindings]

In the Brazilian manual for Super Mario World, due to a translation error, the Message Block is called "Bloco de Massagem", which translates to "Massage Block".

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Source: twitter.com user "reinodocogumelo"

[eleadore]

rec list: hannibal/will <5k

none of my recs contain mcd or unhappy endings. everything else is fair game & may not be tagged for.

bury your love by lovetincture (nc-17, 1.4k) rough sex, knifeplay, s03e02

That scene in the catacombs beneath the Norman Chapel could have ended much differently. They bring out the worst in each other.

do it and do it again by tei (nc-17, 1.5k) ♥️

There are fewer than twenty questions on this list.

didymus by borevidal (m, 1.9k) seduction, s2

“If I don’t put a stop to this, you’re going to blow me,” Will says. “What response does that possibility evoke?” Hannibal asks. 

whiskey verite by moistdrippings (m, 1.9k) ♥️ first time, drinking, s01e01

Post-Œuf, Will drinks whiskey and turns his analytical and empathetic eye on Dr. Lecter to get his mind off murder.

hand in unlovable hand by coloredink (m, 2.4k) codependency, post-fall

Hannibal put his hand over Will's and held it closer to his chest. They had woken up like this more than once. "Do you wish I'd die?" he asked. "It would make your life easier."

songs of experience by borevidal (nc-17, 2.7k) morning after, s2

“Does it trouble you?” Hannibal asks. “That we have been intimate.” “Things were intimate before,” Will says, wry twist of the mouth. “What changed last night, Hannibal, is that we had sex.” “I would consider that a form of intimacy,” Hannibal says. “Wouldn’t you?”

home by beatricenius (nc-17, 3.2k) first time, praise kink, post-fall

Will takes a step back and gestures to the bed. “Show me.” “What do you want me to show you?” “How I’d fuck you. How you imagined it.” About idealism and fantasies and first times.

it's only a bargain if you want it by lovetincture (nc-17, 3.2k) getting together, post-fall

Needing someone isn’t the same as loving them, and loving someone isn’t the same as liking them. Will and Hannibal love each other with a dozen small cruelties, stumbling their way toward something approaching peace.

amourette by petronia (nc-17, 3.5k) getting together, s2

"I don't understand," Will said, "how a Yogi ended up in this way. You'd think the enlightened wouldn't be rude."

share your mouthful by bettyboopz (nc-17, 3.5k) fluff and choking, post-fall

He's about to wax poetic about love and loss when his head is slammed into the wall.

hesperides series by petronia (nc-17, 3.7k) ♥️ s2, post-fall

According to Strabo, the garden of the Hesperides is located in Tartessos, on the south coast of Andalusia.

sugar fuel by northern (t, 3.7k) ♥️ first time, drugging, post-fall

Hannibal doesn't actually notice until several minutes into their main course. They're at the dining table as usual in the evening, working their way through a very enjoyable Blanquette de veaux when Hannibal looks up to see Will staring at him, a little too intently.

release by emungere (nc-17, 3.8k) ♥️ getting together, prostate massage, s1

“It’s certainly unwise on a number of levels.” Hannibal pressed a kiss to the crown of Will’s head. He sounded detached, as if he were speaking of someone else’s foolish choices. “But I cannot bring myself either to care or to stop.”

little fish, big fish, swimming in the water by anon (nc-17, 3.8k) first time, unconventional therapy, s1

What happens when Hannibal is finally presented with the perfect opportunity.

your ex by murdertrout (t, 3.8k) ♥️ crack, fluff, s3

We usually assume that Will clammed up about his past when he was with Molly. But what if actually Will tells Molly way, way, way too much about his relationship with Hannibal? Or, the one where Will starts talking about his “ex" and doesn't stop.

chupada by canis_m (nc-17, 3.9k) roleplay, post-fall

Hannibal and Will play doctor. It's not all fun and games. Only partly.

subject to negotiation by murdertrout (nc-17, 4k) first time, sexuality, post-fall

Will shrugs. “I’ve never kissed a man before.” Hannibal watches him lick his lips; it manages to be nervous and suggestive at the same time. “I never wanted to.” “Do you want to kiss me?” Hannibal asks, careful. “The way I -- feel about you isn’t,” Will says, his eyes flicker away, Hannibal knows why he was waiting to do this in the dark, “the way I feel about anything else.”

cacciatore by hollycrowned (m, 4.6k) established relationship, jealousy, post-fall

The view of Florence stretched beyond buildings to mountains that faded blue, seeming to evaporate into the sky. From elsewhere in the garden, a chorus of strings sang an aria. Will gulped his wine and tried to imagine the shallow valley before them empty of anything but the Arno. “I can see why you love it.” “You don’t love it yourself.” “I suppose any love I have for it exists in me because you love it,” Will dared.

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

🕯️Baños Espirituales 🕯️

Los Baños Espirituales or Spiritual Baths can be used for a wide variety of things. Generally, we're talking about baths when It's some kind of infusion or decoction made for washing a person specifically, but the same making process can be used to make other washes (for floors, doors and windows, etc.) The term "bath" also includes things like head washes, foot washes, and more.

⚠️This information below is to be used only by my black and indigenous peoples as this was written by an Afro-Indigenous Latina for our people. If you're not one of us don't appropriate, and let this be a source of education only⚠️

Altough we call them baths, normally it's not a thing that you would lay down to soak in. These are 90% of the time something you'd throw over your body and just let it run, more like a shower. To keep the water running is to keep things moving, not stagnant. With some exceptions, of course, like sweet baths or flower baths, where you want to soak in, to literally "soak in" the sweetness and blessings.

Among their many uses, we can categorize them as baños de sal o baños salados, baños amargos o de hierbas amargas and baños dulces.

Baño Salado or Salty bath: A bath where the main ingredient is salt, normally, coarse salt grains. These are done to cleanse and purify deeply and thoroughly a person. After a salt bath you must always do a sweet bath or you'll be weakened to malignant spirits and energies.

Baño Amargo or Bitter Bath: A bath where the main ingredients are bitter herbs, such as. These are done to protect and drive away evil spirits. They're what you'll reach for 99% of the time to cleanse, instead of a sweet bath, as it doesn't weaken the person, but fortifies them, and you don't always have to do a sweet bath afterwards.

Baño Dulce or Sweet Bath: A bath where the main ingredient is sweet herbs, flowers, and things like milk, sugar or honey. Within this category you'll find specifically baños de florecimiento or "flowering baths" done with mostly flower petals and with the specific purpose to bless and fortify a person.

These are just the kinds of baths that are widespread in curanderismo and brujería traditions across all latin america, our shared, common cultural knowledge. There's many other types that are more specific in use, such as baños blancos, which aren't mentioned here for a reason. Those kinds are Religion-specific and have to be learnt from a proper authority within the tradition, such as a mãe de santo, pãe, babalawo, santera, etc. The making of these religion-specific baths involves specific preparations beforehand that have to be followed to honor the Gods and Spirits involved and called to bless you through that bath (cleanse you, protect you, heal you, etc), there's specific songs and prayers to use, often in african or african-derived languages or in indigenous languages, the deep knowledge and initiations necessary to do offerings done before and after to any entities, deities, or spirits involved, etc. Don't be reckless nor disrespectful. That'll completely beat the purpose of the bath you intend to make. Before you run off to try to do something you found online, always consult and respect the guidance of spiritual authorities and learn your ways from respected Elders.

To make your own baño:

If you're using soft parts (leaves, flowers, stems) you'll be making an infusion of these for your wash or bath. Bring water almost to a full boil. Place your herbs on the container you'll be using (traditionally you use a palangana, plastic or porcelain or metal, anything, but any big bowl or basin at hand will do), then pour the water on the herbs and start shredding them, to release their juices. Give them a good massage and mix the water. All the while, say your prayers and give thanks to the water, the herbal allies you're using, the Ancestors, the Creator, and all the Spirits who walk with you and watch over you.

If you're using hard parts (roots, barks, shells, fruits, etc) you'll be making a decoction, "cook" the ingredients in your water and leave it for at least another 5 minutes before taking it out of the stove. Same thing, when it's at a decent temperature for you to put your hands in the water, but still not cold, shred them, massage to release the juices, mix the water, all while praying aswell.

It's recommended to use fresh ingredients, but if all you have is dry herbs, or other dry ingredients (shells, peels, etc) you should also add a little prayer asking the water, the Ancestors, God, whomever you pray to, to revitalize and awaken these spirits to aid in their task.

In ATRs, afrobrujería and afrocuranderismo traditions, as in any african derived practices, is a common recommendation to let the water run from the nape of your neck down, and never touch your hair or head. This is because the Spirit(s) that are located in your Head cannot be washed or in contact with just about any herb or Spirit, and it requires a special care and knowledge to prepare head washes that fit each person's Spirit(s). The only way to learn that is to ask an Elder, a Priest or Priestess of a religion from the same Ancestral Line your Ancestors hail from (and thus, their Spirits). For example, if your Ancestors where taken from Yorubaland: santería, regla de ocha, ifá, candomblé, macumba, umbanda, and a long etc, depending on what region they were settled into on this side of the Ocean. The Priest or Priestess will perform divination for you and ask the Gods (like the Orixá) who rules your head and what kind of taboos you have (including what you can and cannot use in baths).

The simplest Baño Salado includes only coarse seasalt. A simple Baño Amargo would take rosemary or pine, rue and yarrow, no salt, but you can add things like lemon peels or lemon slices. A simple Baño Dulce is milk with sugar or honey and roses, and for a Baño de Florecimiento specifically, flowers of three colors (red, white and yellow, for example) with sugar and a splash of florida water or some alcoholic drink (like vodka or rum), to which you can also add orange blossoms, orange blossom water or simply orange peels/slices.

🕯️May this aid you and yours in your spiritual journey. With love, Nao🕯️

[velocesainz]

heyy<3

could i maybe request a 'this is me trying' inspired fic with Steve Harrington, where r is staying up nights trying to finish hw and stuff and it gets really bad and r's very tired and Steve starts to notice it happening more often that not and helps r take a break from it all and just relax for a bit?

thank you<3

A/n: this is such cute request I’m dyinggg

Late night breaks

Stranger things masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: you are studying really hard for your finals at Hawkins high and have also been assigned a huge load of duties and it’s really stressing you out and Steve notices and helps you de-stress

Warnings: cursing, super fluffy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Reader pov:

I was working on an extra project I was assigned by Mr. Clark

I hadn’t slept in quite a few days finishing up projects, homework and studying that O could barely focus on anything but keeping myself awake

It had been a really rough final year with huge responsibilities being given to me and I just didn’t want to disappoint them

I wanted to prove myself worthy of the faith they put in me but there was only so much I could do

I was struggling immensely to finish this science project.

I had a pounding headache, my eyes were bloodshot, I was thirsty, I was hungry and sleep deprived

My body was barely alive at this point.

Steve pov:

I walked into my girlfriends room only to find her hunched over in her seat by her desk with a small lamp on trying to completer some work

She has been working extremely hard over the past few days preparing for finals and complete last minute assignments or work the teachers assigned her

I noticed how much more tired she became.

How pale she was

How weak she was

The eye bags under her eyes

I talked the teachers into withdrawing the work they had given her since she was working non-stop to complete them and was neglecting her own health in the process

I walked over to her, grabbed the book tossing it onto the desk and pulled her into the bed with me

“Steve what are you doing? That project is literally due tomorrow! I have to finish it” she blabbered

“Darling calm down. I talked to Mr. Clark and he is more than willing to give the project to some one else. He had also noticed the eye bags and your pale and weak “ I explained

She let out a loud sigh of relief

I started massaging her stiff shoulders to help her relax and she just melted into my touch

“I also got you some food and water. Have that while I massage your body” I said getting up and grabbing the tray I left on her dresser

“You’re literally the best boyfriend I could ever ask for you know that?” She told me with a look of adoration

“My job is to serve the lady of my dreams and I’m doing my job” I responded cheekily

“Oh you and your stupid lines” she laughed

A/n: sorry if this was a little short m, I didn’t really have much to write here. As always let me know your feedback on this fic. Kissies ✨

[rotting-ink]

Masterlist

General

Favourite Foods

Cloud Gazing

Biggest Flaw/Red Flag

L's thoughts about E being closer in age to the Witch

Best Massagers

What they are like in a relationship

Heights

When extremely jealous

How they Sleep

Body Temperature

Being broken up with

Being given the silent treatment

When they realize they're in love

Scents

Pet names

RO ethnicity

Learning the Witch cannot Read

Languages they know

Scars

Thoughts on Marriage

Modern Day Jobs

Ranking of Most Possessive

Surprise Pregnancy Reactions

Ultimate Fantasies (Semi NSFW)

NSFW

Main Kinks

Finding out the Witch is a virgin

Poly Groups being jealous of each other

Tender Loving Sex

Breeding Kink/ Wanting Kids

Period Sex

S Della Rovere (and the Witch) asking the other RO and Poly groups for a threesome

Slutty Witch Reactions

Favourite Body Part

What virginity they have

Thoughts on CNC

Turn off Kinks

Poly Groups and CNC

Free Use

Nicknames + Mommy/Daddy calling

Snuggle or Fuckfest?

Reactions to Witch with Nipple Piercings

L Rawlins

L knotting their mate's mouth

Being repressed

Breeding

Knotting

Chasing their Partner

Knot Descriptions

If they turned the Witch

Scenting

Strap Privileges

Calling Dog Seir "Best Puppy"

L Tidbits and Fun Facts

V De Winters

Chasing their Partner

The most toxic

Whose a yandere?

Getting Rejected -- Expansion of Getting Rejected

S Della Rovere

Chasing their Partner

Strap Privileges

After the Witch's Death

Seir The Familiar

After the Witch's Death

Downsides of Seir's Magic

Saleos

The most toxic

Whose a yandere?

With a crybaby Witch

After the Witch's Death

Who gets the Witch's Soul?

Starling Knight

Strap Privileges

A Lancaster

The most toxic

Them and a Non-Suspicious Sweet Witch

Strap Privileges

Quincy Beaumont

The most toxic

Whose a yandere?

Getting Rejected -- Expansion of Getting Rejected

E Rawlins

Piss Kink

Breeding

Knotting

Chasing their Partner

The most toxic

Whose a yandere?

How wholesome?

Knot Descriptions

If they turned the witch

Scenting

Calling Seir "The Best Puppy"

D Woolf

Strap Privileges

[depressopax]

La casa de papel NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

»» Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 ««

Pairing: Nairobi - Berlin - Denver - Tokyo - Professor - Alicia x gn!reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content, gender neutral reader Words: 900 Summary: What is aftercare like with the LCDP characters? English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3

Nairobi 

I’ve said it before, and will say it again. AFTERCARE QUEEN <3

Very sweet and caring.

She sometimes tends to get a bit carried away when she has sex with you, so aftercare is something she prioritizes. 

She’ll make sure you’re ok, praise you and make sure to tell you how well you did for her.

Her favorite aftercare is either cuddling or running a hot bath for you (and her)

She makes sure to clean you up and fix the bed

When fixing a bath - she makes sure to light some candles, dim the lights in the room and have the perfect temperature for your sore muscles. 

She likes massaging your shoulders whilst whispering praise to you

Afterwards, she’ll bring you to bed again, making sure you’re comfortable and feel loved.

She likes having you sleeping naked in her arms, while she strokes your back and strokes your hair.

Crying shaking throwing up I NEED NAIROBI IN MY LIFE 😭

Berlin 

Berlin may have two moods when having sex: - Slow and loving - Fast and hard

However, his aftercare is always the same.

As we know, Berlin is like a totally different person when he’s in love.

You realize so by how sweet he is with you during intimate times.

Whether he’s submissive or dominant in bed (he can do both 😽), he wants you to feel loved afterwards.

But he does enjoy being a tease too lmao

He’ll tell you how good you were, how much he enjoyed it and how amazing you look etc

…But Berlin also likes teasing you for your reactions, how “needy” you were, or simply brag about how amazing he is 

Being an asshole aside…

After being reassured you’re ok, he helps you clean up

Gives you something to drink and offers you a bath or shower (he won’t let you do it alone tho)

Berlin worships you and your body, sexually or not. He just adores you.

But honestly? He is pretty lazy after sex.

He prefers to cuddle you whilst whispering praise to you

Sex makes him sleepy lmao

Besides, his favorite thing to do is have deep conversations with his lover, and have you resting on him naked.

He falls asleep pretty quick, and does so whilst spooning you.

Denver 

I’m sorry, Denver simps - but this man is NOT good at aftercare.

He’s clueless AF after sex. 

Of course he makes sure you’re ok and will kiss you, but more than that? No.

You’ll have to ask him for aftercare, and do so quickly before he falls asleep on you lmao 😭

But if you ask him, he’ll of course be more than happy to obey.

You’re a treasure to him, and he worships you and your body.

He’ll do his best, with praise, cuddles and offering to get you some water etc

But when it comes to aftercare FOR HIM?

He loves it.

Mans a switch, but I feel like he prefers being under you and receiving love and attention.

If you’re rough with him, he is needy afterwards and wants full attention.

Even though he’s not good at aftercare, he won't let you go to sleep without making you feel loved. 

He falls asleep first, but does so while whispering “I love you”

Tokyo

Just like Denver, Tokyo tends to forget about aftercare lol

Unless she loves you deeply, she skips it.

…But she loves you, so she tries giving you good aftercare.

She brings you to the bathroom and helps you fix up a warm shower or bath, whichever you prefer.

She often ends up joining you, or takes the opportunity to fix a drink for the two of you. 

Cuddling with Tokyo is almost as passionate as sex is.

She makes sure you feel like a royal when she cuddles and she praises you.

Telling you how well you did, how hot you are… 

She either falls asleep fast, or stays up watching you sleep whilst slowly caressing you, thinking about how lucky she is to have you. 

Professor 

Homeboy is an overthinker 😭 (he’s so me)

“Was it good for you, too?”“Are you ok?”“I did make you cum, right?”“Did it hurt?”

You’ll need to reassure him everythings ok

He is very good at aftercare.

Sergio probably has read a lot about sex, to learn how to be the perfect lover lmao

And he is very attentive to your reactions etc

This way, he figures out what you like in bed, and what you enjoy for aftercare.

His personal favorite is massages.

He is very good at giving massages, and enjoys your reactions to them.

He makes sure to take the tension from your sore muscles and does so carefully - taking any discomfort or stress away.

He is not the guy to fall asleep afterwards, he wants to see you fall asleep first, so he can feel protective of you before he falls asleep as well. 

Alicia 

Call me down bad, but…

Alicia is a DOMME.

Usually rough with you when having sex

She sometimes tend to not be affectionate afterwards, or be a bit too arrogant/teasing

She cares about you, but sometimes simply forgets to take care of you after she’s done fucking.

You’ll probably have to remind her to give you aftercare

But when you do, she’s affectionate.

She’s very rewarding, especially after you’ve been good for her in bed.

Alicia spoils you with kisses, praise and makes sure to clean you up.

Fixes you a bath, shower, massage…Whatever you need.

Let’s be honest - you’ll probably be sore AF after she’s done with you, so she needs to take her time with you and make sure you’re ok.

If she’s stressed of frustrated from work, she definitely forgets aftercare

But otherwise, she drops the domme act and is very sweet with you.

She adores you and wants to show her love and tenderness.

Also... THE GIF?? I'M SCREAMING