#muscular and passionate and fierce

[geopsych]

I don’t usually quote celebrities on here but this is just what I like. It’s Michael Sheen and he was asked of all the fantasy creatures he has played over the years, which was his favorite. He talked a while about what fascinates him about vampires but then he said this:

“but in a way that challenge of playing an angel has been the one I enjoyed the most because I am sort of fascinated by goodness, what is it to be good and the concept of goodness and that we as a society tend sort of undervalue goodness, it's sort of seen as somehow weak and a bit nimby and 'oh it's nice' and, you know, not... and I think that to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina, and... I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light and it takes such courage, and the most, the bravest people I've ever come across in my life are people who've gone through terrible tragedy and terrible pain and terrible grief, and have somehow managed to turn that into something positive, to make positive change for other people, and whenever I've met anyone who's done that I always think it's a miracle, it's an absolute miracle, and the idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness I think is nonsense. So the idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love and... I loved seeing the things that people put online about angels being ferocious creatures and I love that, I think that's a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be I suppose. So, yes, so I'm gonna say: the angel.” Adding link to the post where I saw it, as requested by @sheepshapedfluff: https://www.tumblr.com/fuckyeahgoodomens/699640266444914688/michael-sheen-on-playing-fantasy-creatures-angels

[inhonoredglory]

Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

[cntloup]

how he shows his love

Thinking about Simon swaddling your waist with his muscular arm and pulling your body closer to his until you’re fully flushed against him, so he can feel all of you. Like all of a sudden sensing this urge to feel you. And he takes your jaw in his rough, calloused hand, his thumb brushing over the soft skin while his blazing gaze burns through you. And he crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you with such fiery passion, all the fierce love and devotion he holds for you in his once deemed cold, dead heart that you have melted over the years, seeping through his lips and flooding into your heart and soul. All the while holding you tightly against him to make you feel all his love, all of him. Until you’re left feeling dizzy and floaty, breathless in his arms as his eyes fixate on yours once again, taking note of the knowing look in your eyes. And you know this is his way of showing how much he loves and adores you without any words.

[writingforstraykids]

THIS CHAN?? I WENT FERAL???!????

anyways 🤭 imagine you taking chan and him forcing you to look into the mirror behind the bed as he absolutely destroys your sweet little cunt😼

Ohh believe me, that pic made my thoughts run wild already so thank you!! Your request hasn't left my mind all morning so yeah...this happened real quick😂🖤

Right here with you, always

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 1915

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, p in v, unprotected sex

A/N: Hope you like it, love🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

male!version here

The cobblestone streets of Milan seemed to sparkle under the golden hues of the early evening sun as you and Chan made your way through the city. Milan was pulsing with life, its vibrant energy matching the excitement in your heart. Chan had invited you to join him on this glamorous outing, blending the worlds of high fashion and intimate togetherness.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, admiration blooming inside you. He was dressed in a blue shirt that highlighted the warmth of his eyes and complemented his dark hair. Chan suggested dinner at a small, elegant restaurant known for its secluded ambiance and exquisite Italian cuisine. Over plates of creamy risotto and perfectly aged wine, you shared stories and dreams, his laughter blending harmoniously with the soft notes of a violin playing somewhere in the background.

As the sky deepened into a velvety blue, Chan took your hand, leading you out into the enchanting night. Milan at night was a different kind of beautiful; the lights of the city reflected in the gentle ripple of the canals, the air filled with the subtle aroma of blooming jasmine. Walking through this cityscape with Chan, you felt as if you were part of a living canvas, every step painting a stroke of memories in your shared story.

Eventually, the night led you to his hotel, a place of refined elegance. Inside, the world quieted down to just the two of you. Chan guided you to the sofa in his suite, a soft, inviting piece that seemed to echo the plush luxury of your surroundings. As you settled into the comfort of the sofa, he pulled you gently into his lap, a smile playing on his lips.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lay beneath his soft shirt. “This blue shirt… it’s perfect on you. It makes your eyes look like chocolate; deep and endlessly sweet.”

At first, Chan blushed, a shy smile curving his lips as his gaze flickered away. It wasn't often that he heard such open adoration, even from you, his partner. Yet, the honesty in your voice and the warmth in your eyes encouraged him to accept your compliments. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his own confidence growing with the realization of how much you needed him in this moment.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. His hands were gentle but firm on your back, making every nerve in your body sing with a pleasant tension. The room around you seemed to fade, the sounds of Milan's nightlife a distant echo to the intimacy that unfolded between the two of you. “Love how pretty you look in that dress,” he told you, hands fondling up your thighs and below the skirt. “Love how your body always searches mine,” he confessed, biting back a soft groan as you pressed down against him.

His lips met yours in a fierce kiss, hand shooting up into your hair. You kissed back eagerly, grinding down against him with soft, needy sounds. Chan's grip on your hair tightens, his hips chasing yours with a low groan.

As the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the gentle yet insistent passion between you, the world outside seemed to vanish completely. Chan’s hands moved with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the growing intensity of the moment. He was skilled, knowing exactly how to make you feel cherished and desired all at once.

Your panties met the floor as Chan lifted his hips, shuffling his pants down enough to free his aching dick. He made quick work of preparing you, stretching you out with his fingers and kissing down your neck hungrily. You sunk down on him soon, moaning out loudly as he stretched your fluttering walls just right.

Chan's hands found your hips, steadying you in his lap as he started thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he whispered needily. “You feel so good, baby girl,” he told you, setting a fast pace.

You matched his rhythm, your movements fueled by the shared desire that connected you. The heat of the moment intensified, your bodies moving in sync as you rode him, each thrust deepening the bond between you. Chan’s eyes were locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel both powerful and utterly vulnerable at the same time.

“Chan, please,” you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with raw emotion. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice a mix of passion and reassurance. His grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more urgent. “I’m right here with you, always, pretty girl.” You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed of the weak sounds he pulled from you with each thrust. Chan's hand sunk into your hair, pulling you back up. “I want you to look at yourself,” he said, nodding at the mirror wall right behind him. “Want you to see how pretty you are like this.”

“Channie,” you whined softly but did as he told you. “Fuck,” you whimpered as his pace fastened, making you bounce on him.

His grip on your hips was firm as he guided you up and down, his thrusts growing more insistent with each passing second. The sight of yourself in the mirror, bouncing on his lap, your dress hitched up around your waist, your face flushed with pleasure, was almost too much to bear. The raw intensity of the moment made you feel exposed yet profoundly connected to Chan.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his voice a low, guttural whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Do you see how perfect you are for me? Only for me?"

The combination of his words and the image in the mirror heightened your senses, your body responding to him with an urgency that bordered on desperation. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, the rhythm of your movements becoming frantic.

"Yes, Chan," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat. "I'm yours."

Chan's eyes never left your face, his gaze filled with a mix of adoration and raw desire. "Good girl," he praised, his hands guiding your movements with a steady, unrelenting pace. "I want you to feel everything, baby girl. I want you to feel how much I need you."

His words pushed you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending climax. "Chan, I'm so close," you moaned, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a crescendo.

Chan growled softly, reaching down between your bodies and playing with your clit. The touch sent shivers up your spine, making you arch into him with a loud, whimpery moan. “Such a good girl,” he moaned, thrusting into you harshly, feeling his own climax creeping up on him.

“Please, Chan~,” you almost sobbed, a little overwhelmed by all the pleasure coursing through your body. “Need to - please.”

"Let go for me," he urged, his voice thick with emotion. "Let go, pretty girl. I've got you."

With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your release washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, mingling with Chan's own groans as he followed you over the edge, his body tensing beneath you as he found his release.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathless and spent, your bodies trembling from the intensity of the experience. Chan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"You did so well," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your hair. "So beautiful, so perfect."

You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment and love. "Thank you, Chan," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

He smiled, his eyes softening with affection. "Always, baby girl. Always."

The world outside the hotel room was a distant memory, the night in Milan a backdrop to the profound connection you shared with Chan. As you lay in his arms, the city lights twinkling outside the window, you knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always bring you back to each other.

-

Later, after you had both cleaned up and settled into the luxurious bed, the quiet intimacy continued to envelop you. Chan's gentle touches and soft murmurs of affection filled the space between you, making even the simplest moments feel special.

"Do you remember our first trip together?" Chan asked, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness.

You smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Of course I do. How could I forget? It was magical."

"It was," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "But this... tonight... it's even better."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we're here together," he replied simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because every moment with you is better than the last."

Your heart swelled with love for him, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. "I feel the same way," you whispered against his lips. "Every moment with you is a gift."

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what challenges or adventures lay ahead, you and Chan would face them together, your love growing stronger with each passing day.

-

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke up to the feeling of Chan’s fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, his touch a comforting presence.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, turning to face him. His eyes were warm and filled with love, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Chan leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Perfectly,” you said, your heart swelling with happiness. “How about you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted, his smile widening. “Being with you always makes everything better.”

You snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful morning. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As the morning progressed, you both took your time getting ready, enjoying the relaxed pace of the day. The streets of Milan called to you, promising new adventures and memories to be made. But no matter what the day held, you knew that the connection you shared with Chan would remain the most beautiful part of your journey together.

-

Walking through the bustling streets of Milan once more, hand in hand with Chan, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and happiness you had found. The city seemed to sparkle with the promise of new experiences, each moment adding to the rich tapestry of your shared life.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same joy that filled your heart. “Ready for another day of adventures?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling up at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”

And with that, you both stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that together, you could conquer the world.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @slutforchanlix

[strawberryblue-blog]

Ride on me —Ruben Dias.

summary: Ruben asks you to ride his face.

warnings: YES. +18. SMUT. (face riding, f oral, spanking, p in v, unprotected sex)

words count: +2k

A sigh escaped your lips as the kisses on your neck began licking, biting and tasting your skin delicately. Ruben's hands squeezed your hips as yours sought contact on his muscular back.

The kissing session had begun with some innocence and sweetness as you cuddled in bed after dinner and ready to rest but had become wilder and more passionate as time went on. His lips bit the skin of your neck as your moans escaped your mouth, enjoying your boyfriend's touches.

Your fingers stroked the strands of his hair, combing and tousling it as you stroked his silky scalp and then did it again. Your body fully extended as his body hugged yours on top, one of your legs wrapped around his ass and back, holding him tight. His face would travel down your chest, leaving little soft touches of kisses on your skin and your hands would embrace every part of him. Ruben would caress you with his lips until he reached your breasts, where he gently caressed them, wrapping them in his palm and squeezing them until you gasped, pressing him against your body.

He was too playful tonight. Your eyes focused on his precious gaze as his mouth moved to one of your nipples and wrapped around it, licking it. You arched your back in pleasure but you couldn't because he was all over you and went back to sucking on your mound. Your crotch was on fire with Ruben's every action, so you sought some relief by moving your hips against his abs. Your boyfriend smiled mischievously.

His hands slid down your legs caressing your soft skin, feeling it tremble each time he got closer and closer to your center. A gasp escaped your mouth as his fingers made contact with your lacy panties underneath your short dress type nightgown not at all sensual (but which was comfortable for being at home). His fingers groped the area, moaning as they made contact with your wetness.

"Damn, baby" he whispered against your lips when he could tell how wet you were even without touching you directly.

"You're so wet for me" he gasped.

You bit your lip as you felt his fingers run down your panties and for this time, he did caress your hot center. He ran up and down your entire slit, up and down, getting wet with your wetness.

"And that was just a few simple kisses, baby" he teases, laughing as he strokes your clit a little.

Your back arches and you slap your chest against his, feeling your nipples rub against your clothes and his hard muscles, making you gasp loudly. You were too horny and yes, it had only been a few kisses but you can't blame yourself. It's his fault for being so damn horny. Anyone who had someone like Ruben Dias as a boyfriend would be horny all day long. Especially if he kissed you or touched you.

"I don't even have to touch you to know you're spliced to shit" you mumble teasingly too.

Although you don't touch him directly, you can feel him on your thigh as his bulge begins to grow with each rub. Your fingers stroke the beginning of his hair at the nape of his neck playfully, wanting to get his attention to kiss your lips.

"Guilty" he whispers licking his lips with a smile that melts.

He takes the opportunity to settle into your legs, spreading them with his large hands and you lift your hips, feeling his swollen crotch come into contact with yours, testing your theory. His clothed bulge caresses your clitoris and you both gasp.

His cheeky grin is the last thing you see as his lips impact yours again and kiss fiercely as his hands begin to lift your nightgown, removing it from your body along with his t-shirt, which fly somewhere across the room. Ruben removes his pants himself as you watch him with your bare chest rising and falling, licking your lips at the sight of his erect bulge in his black boxers.

When he comes back to you, his hands take the sides of your panties and he pulls them down your legs sensually, slow and torturous, kissing your thighs first, then down your legs as he watches you from below. His dark glowing gaze looks down at you and you smile up at him as you feel his body boil with heat.

"I want you to ride my face" he says as he gets on top of your body again.

At that moment your heart stops, your throat hides a gasp that makes you gag but you disguise your surprised reaction. Your stomach churns and you bite your tongue. That's a higher level. You're speechless. It's not like Ruben has never given you oral but sitting on his face is another level.

"What?" you ask confused and a little embarrassed.

Honestly you've never had someone ask you something like this before, you weren't embarrassed about sex, much less with your boyfriend of almost two years now. You hadn't seen or heard much of this, though it was probably more normal than you expected. You had seen it in porn once, it turned you on but you never thought it could happen with you. Ruben was magnificent in every sense of the word but you were just a little surprised.

"I want to eat your pussy while you're sitting on my face, baby" he says shamelessly.

A gasp comes out of your mouth as you hear how dirty that sounded, the expression on his face is mischievous and hot. You can feel the wetness welling up in your legs with every word and you swallow saliva.

"I could crush you, Ruben" reply with a nervous chuckle. "What if it's uncomfortable...?" He denies grabbing your thighs to pull you closer to him.

"No you won't" he denies with a little pout.

You stare at him for a while biting your lip somewhat embarrassed. Ruben's wet dog look makes you want to kiss him and hug him, you know you won't be able to handle it. You're too horny and you want him to touch you, even if it's on top of his face.

"Come on baby, I promise you'll love it" he clicks his tongue in amusement.

The fire inside your chest burns and you almost have a psychological orgasm just thinking about it. Riding his face. The thought alone makes you swallow saliva. Damn. That will be something unusual and you love experimenting with Ruben. His expectant eyes watch you as his big hands rest on your belly.

"Okay" you agree with red cheeks. Ruben smiles and kisses your lips then settles back on the bed.

You rise from your spot until you sit on your bed as you fill with courage and bite your lip anxiously. When Ruben is lying on the bed, you approach him slowly, your hands caressing his chest while he smiles at you in complicity. You take the time to kiss him, softly at first, gently and delicately. Ruben's hands help you sit astride his body and when he pulls away from you, he helps you settle on his face.

Your heart is pounding, you don't know if it's from anxiety or embarrassment. You are a little afraid of what might happen but at the same time you are anxious to feel his mouth. When you are at face level, you sigh nervously, without doing anything yet. Ruben's hands encircle your thighs and he pulls you closer to his face, not quite touching you, his breath playing a little with you, blowing your inherent heat. You gasp, biting your lip.

The sound of a slap sounds in the silence as his hand stamps against your ass and you cry out moaning but hold your breath as at the same time his tongue licks your slit.

Fuck, that was pleasurable. Too pleasurable.

Ruben tastes your juices as he licks your entire slit again, while his hands draw you to him and then sucks on your swollen clit. Your hands grasp his soft head, entwining your fingers in his hair to hold you. You relax your lips sighing as you feel the heat increase, as your eyes quiver with his touch. He does it once more and you growl needily. He's toying with you, you can tell when he lets out a little giggle. Or he's trying to make you go crazy.

"Damn it, Ruben, get the fuck over with" you moan with a groan as you feel him lick you again without touching you.

"Your wish is my command" he murmurs into your core making you bristle.

And then his tongue penetrates your hole making you jerk your head back as you scream his name tearing at your throat. Then he returns to your clit and presses it, biting a bit into your skin. The touch of his beard on your inner thighs make you tingle and the friction of his nose on your pubic makes you shiver, as he continues to lunge his tongue into your cavity over and over again. He releases one hand and slaps your ass again, making you jump in a scream.

How have you never tried this before? You can't believe someone can feel this level of pleasure riding a face. It's fucking hot. You're so horny you're afraid you'll reach orgasm without passing out.

"Fuck, Ruben!" you squeal as your hips start to move on his face.

Watching him under you is so glorious that if you don't come to orgasm with his tongue, you'll come from just seeing him there. Completely at your mercy, working his tongue for your pleasure, caressing you with his big hands while you are all that matters today.

You need more, you need to feel more pleasure, you want to feel it all. And you transmit it to him as your face becomes disfigured with pleasurez your mouth opens in an 'O' and you have to hold back to hold on a little longer. Ruben catches your clit and sucks it quickly, holding you by your ass, while he squeezes it with his remaining hand, kneading it.

"Fuck, yes. There, Ruben" you murmur as his eyes meet yours.

His tongue works wonders on your body and you're going crazy as you beg for him not to stop. You don't want him to ever stop.

Your fingers keep tugging at his hair as now one of his hands penetrates you with two fingers in your hole. You gasp as you feel another finger enter you and you begin to see stars. You are so tight, so hot for him, that when he hits your G-spot, you have to let go of his hair and grab hold of the back of the bed, holding you so tight as your hips move like crazy in his face. He hits once, twice, three times and you lose count as you feel all the pleasure.

Your thighs burn and you begin to tire but you can't stop riding his face as his mouth bites and licks your clit and his fingers fuck your center. You gasp and moan and scream. You scream and scream, not caring if anyone can hear you. You can't shut up, you don't even make the attempt but you know you couldn't handle this new thing you're experiencing.

The pleasure begins to build up in your belly as Ruben keeps pounding you hard, the pressure on your legs making you want to ride harder and move like crazy. You are desperate and your back arches as your toes curl, you need to hold on because you will fall into deep limbo. Ruben knows this, because you hear another little chuckle echoing in your cavity and with his loose hand he caresses your inner thigh.

You have never felt anything so desperate. You can feel your body levitate as your thoughts escape your mind. Your throat hurts from screaming so much as you feel your orgasm approaching from the way your body is uncurling.

"I'm about to... come, Ruben" you say barely as you gasp.

The moment Ruben bites down on your clit and speeds up his fingers, reaching deep inside you cry out desperately feeling your orgasm. You close your eyes tightly and see little flashes in the darkness that make you think you might pass out. You are dazed and your vision blurs as his thighs want to clench but Ruben holds you as he continues to penetrate you hard and suck your clit roughly. Your nipples ache and burn but you can't let go to caress them because you'll fall on his face as you feel the most powerful orgasm you've ever had.

"Fuck!" you scream again as you feel your belly contract and your fluids spill over your thighs and Ruben's face.

Finally his fingers stop and you gasp at the feeling of relief, still holding onto the backrest. You gasp for air as Ruben plays with your liquids on your skin, smiling proudly.

"That was hot, baby" he murmurs as you fall to his side still dazed and off balance. "You cum all over me" he moans pulling you closer.

You're so sensitive that when he brushes against your legs you gasp again. You can't even find the words.

"You taste so good, I'd eat you every day" he whispers in your ear making you bristle.

"Damn, Ruben" you sigh laughing. "You're the best with your tongue" you teasingly praise him. You know it will feed his ego and be more fun.

"Oh I know, baby. You say that every time I fuck you" he teases laughing as he positions himself between your aching legs again.

The grimace on your tired face makes him laugh. But his intentions won't go away. His wet kisses return to your neck, leaving hot trails that make you sigh. You really don't know if you can, you're too sensitive and sore. You know that tomorrow you will have difficulty walking and you won't even be able to get out of bed after tonight. Ruben has no mercy on you and will fuck you as many times as he wants.

"I know you're tired but I need some more of you, baby" he murmurs as he removes his underwear, freeing his erection. "Show me you can take me one more time, baby" he gasps as you stroke his cock with your red, swollen lips.

[romanreignsbae]

I hate you…not. - R.R

thanks for the request bae! 💗

SMUT❗️

disclaimers: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, morning sex, overstim, rough sex…18+

A/N: Loved this request and idk why but this took me 2 days to write, let me know if you guys want some fluff too! I feel like so far all i’ve written in smut. and i acc used Roman as a name this time, in all my other fics i used Joe. let me know what you guys prefer, i want some insight on what other people see/want when it comes to my writing! 💗

The air was thick with anticipation as Y/n and Roman, two rivals in the WWE world and people who couldn’t stand each other even away from the ring, found themselves in an unexpected situation . It was a Sunday in May, and the night before, a night of drink after drink, had led them to this moment.

They had always kept their distance, their mutual hatred simmering just below the surface. But now, in the cold light of day, a new understanding would dawn as they uncovered their true feelings.

As Y/n stirred in bed, the events of the previous night came flooding back. The club, the drinks, and the heated argument that had sparked something unexpected. She had woken up in a tangle of sheets, her body sore and sensitive. Her eyes flickered open, and she found herself face-to-face with Roman, his dark hair falling across his forehead, those deep brown eyes staring back at her.

The realization of where she was and who she was with sent a shock through her system. She started to pull away, but Roman's strong arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close. "You're not going anywhere," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

"What... what happened last night?" Y/n asked, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew they had shared an intense moment on the dance floor, their eyes locked in a challenge that had sent sparks flying between them. But the rest was a blur.

"We happened," Roman replied, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "And it was fucking incredible."

Y/n felt her breath catch as she remembered snippets of their passion. Roman's hands on her body, his lips crushing hers, and the feel of him inside her. It had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. Their supposed hatred had morphed into something else entirely.

She traced her fingers along his muscular arm, feeling the strength that lay beneath. "I think I hate this," she whispered, her voice filled with conflicting emotions. "I think I hate that I want you."

Roman's eyes darkened, and he pulled her closer, his hand tangling in her hair. "You don't hate it," he growled. "You love it. You love the way I make you feel, the way I take control and make you mine."

She couldn't deny the truth in his words. The roughness of their encounter had ignited a fire within her, and she had surrendered to it completely. "I should hate you," she said, her voice laced with confusion. "But I..."

"You what?" Roman asked, his eyes searching hers.

Y/n took a shaky breath. "I think I love you," she confessed, her heart laid bare. "I think I always have, and I just couldn't admit it to myself."

A raw emotion flashed across Roman's face, and he crushed his lips to hers in a hungry kiss. It was fierce and demanding, a reflection of the turmoil they felt. Their tongues waged a passionate battle, tasting and claiming, as if trying to communicate what words could not.

As the kiss deepened, Roman's hand traveled down her body, cupping her breast and thumbing her sensitive nipple. Y/n arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth. Their passion was instantaneously rekindled, the intensity of their desire undeniable.

He pulled away slightly, his breath hot on her skin as he trailed kisses along her jawline and down her neck. "I've wanted to do this for so long," he growled, nipping at her earlobe. "Taste you, feel you, hear you screaming my name."

Y/n gasped as he nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin of her neck, marking her as his own. "Roman," she moaned, her hands clutching at his back. "I need you. Right now."

With a growl, he shifted his body, positioning himself between her thighs. Y/n felt the hardness of his cock pressing against her, and she opened herself to him willingly. In one swift thrust, he claimed her, filling her completely.

She cried out as he stretched her, her walls gripping him tightly. Roman stilled for a moment, savoring the feeling of being embedded deep within her. Then, with slow, deliberate strokes, he began to move, setting a relentless pace.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his eyes never leaving hers as he withdrew and thrust into her again and again. "Always knew you'd be tight around me, baby."

Y/n's head fell back, her breath coming in short gasps as pleasure washed over her. "Yes... oh yes, Roman," she panted. " Harder... please."

His lips curved into a wicked smile, and he grasped her hips, lifting her to meet his powerful thrusts. The bed groaned beneath them as their bodies slapped together, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room.

"That's it, take it all," he growled, his eyes hooded with desire. "Your pussy was made for my cock, Y/n."

His filthy words sent her spiraling closer to the edge, and she clawed at his back, urging him on. "Fuck me... harder, Roman," she begged. "Make me cum all over your big dick."

Grunting, he obliged, pounding into her with primal need. The head of his cock brushed her sweet spot with each thrust, sending shocks of pleasure through her body. Y/n's moans filled the room, her breathless cries spurring him on.

Their bodies glistened with sweat as their passion climbed higher. Roman reached between their bodies, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. "Cum for me, baby," he demanded. "Let me feel you tighten around me."

With a cry, Y/n tumbled over the edge, her orgasm ripping through her. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Roman groaned, feeling her release, and thrust a few more times before he followed her over the brink, spilling himself deep inside her.

As their breathing slowed, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs, still joined as one. Y/n felt Roman's heart pounding against her chest, his breath warm on her skin. She realized in that moment that their hatred had been a smokescreen, concealing a passion so intense it had scared them both. Now, in the aftermath of their confession, a new understanding would emerge.

Roman brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his expression soft. "I love you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I always have, even when I tried to deny it."

She smiled, her heart swelling. "I love you too, Roman," she replied, savoring the feeling of his weight on top of her. "I guess sometimes hate is just misunderstood love."

And in that moment, as they lay spent and satisfied, they knew that their WWE rivalry would never be the same again. Their hatred had transformed into a passion so intense it would fuel their every encounter, both in and out of the ring.

[zapreportsblog]

❝my little warrior❞

✭ pairing : tsu’tey x reader

✭ fandom : avatar the way of water

✭ summary : a sky person undergoes a remarkable transformation into a Na'vi and finds herself entwined in a passionate love affair with Tsu'tey. Their love deepens as they marry, but their union takes an extraordinary turn when she becomes pregnant with Tsu'tey's heir.

✭ avatar the way of water masterlist

The night was alive with the soft, melodic hum of Pandora's bioluminescent flora. A faint breeze rustled the leaves of strange trees, and the stars above sparkled like scattered diamonds. (Y/N) stood beneath the alien sky, marveling at the beauty of this vibrant world.

Once, she had been a sky person, a scientist sent to Pandora to study its unique plant life. But life had taken a turn she could never have imagined. She had undergone the Avatar program, and now she had her own Na'vi body, a body she had come to love and cherish.

Over time, as she immersed herself in Na'vi culture and explored the lush landscape, (Y/N) found herself drawn to Tsu'tey, a fierce and noble warrior of the Omaticaya clan. His strength, wisdom, and the way he moved with the grace of a predator in the forest had captivated her heart.

However, as fate would have it, another love story was unfolding on Pandora. Jake Sully, the human who had become a Na'vi, had fallen deeply in love with Neytiri, the daughter of the clan leader. Their bond was undeniable, and their love grew stronger with each passing day.

(Y/N) struggled with her feelings for Tsu'tey, torn between her affection for him and the knowledge that Jake and Neytiri's love was destined to be. She often sought solace in the bioluminescent forests, hoping that the wisdom of Eywa, the living spirit of Pandora, would guide her.

One fateful night, as the moon hung low in the sky, (Y/N) and Tsu'tey found themselves beneath the sacred Tree of Voices. The ancient tree's soft whispers seemed to beckon them closer, and their hearts led them to each other. Under the watchful gaze of Eywa, they mated, their love transcending the boundaries of their different origins.

As time passed, the tension between the Na'vi and the sky people escalated, leading to a catastrophic war. (Y/N) fought alongside her Na'vi brothers and sisters, determined to protect the land and people she had come to call home. The conflict raged on, the battles were fierce, and losses were heavy on both sides.

It was in the aftermath of one such battle, amid the scars of war, that (Y/N) received news that would change everything. She discovered that she was pregnant, carrying the child who would be the heir of Tsu'tey, the child born of their love. Her heart swelled with hope and uncertainty, for this new life represented a bridge between two worlds, a symbol of unity and a chance for redemption.

Upon finding out the news she touched her abdomen, feeling the life growing within, (Y/N) knew that the challenges ahead were immense. But she also knew that the love she shared with Tsu'tey and the bond she had with Pandora's people would give her the strength to face whatever the future held.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the lush, alien landscape of Pandora. (Y/N) stood at the edge of the clearing, gazing out at the rolling hills and bioluminescent flora that stretched as far as the eye could see. It had been weeks since the destruction of Hometree at the hands of the Sky People, and life among the Omaticaya clan had changed dramatically.

Beside her, Tsu'tey, his tall and muscular form silhouetted against the fading light, watched the same landscape. He had become the clan leader, a position he had never sought but had embraced with a fierce determination. The loss of Hometree had been a deep wound in the heart of the Na'vi, and the Omaticaya had been scattered in the aftermath, forced to relocate and adapt to a new way of life.

"(Y/N)," Tsu'tey spoke softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "Our home, our Hometree, is gone. But we must move forward, rebuild, and find a new place to call our own."

(Y/N) turned to look at him, her eyes reflecting the same sadness. "I know, Tsu'tey. And I want to help rebuild our clan. I want to build a new home, one where our people can thrive once again."

Tsu'tey placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch reassuring. "You have a strong spirit, (Y/N), and a heart filled with love for our people. We will find a way, together."

As the weeks passed, the Omaticaya clan worked tirelessly to establish a new settlement. It was a challenging endeavor, but their determination was unwavering. Tsu'tey, as the leader, was often at the forefront, guiding and motivating the clan members. (Y/N), too, played her part, using her knowledge of the land and her skills to help gather resources and build shelters.

One evening, as the two of them sat by the fire, (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Tsu'tey, there's something I need to tell you." Her voice trembled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Tsu'tey turned to her, his amber eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, (Y/N)?"

Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand on her belly, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. "I'm carrying our child, Tsu'tey. I'm pregnant."

For a moment, Tsu'tey was silent, his gaze locked on (Y/N)'s face. Then, a radiant smile spread across his features, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "This is wonderful news, (Y/N)! Our family will grow, and our love will only strengthen."

Tears of happiness filled (Y/N)'s eyes as she hugged him back. "I knew you would be happy, Tsu'tey."

Tsu'tey kissed her forehead and whispered, "I promise to support our family to the fullest, (Y/N). Our child will grow up surrounded by the love of the Omaticaya clan, and we will build a future where they can thrive."

As they held each other by the firelight, the stars overhead began to twinkle in the alien sky, casting their blessings on this new chapter in the lives of (Y/N) and Tsu'tey. Together, they would face the challenges of rebuilding, parenthood, and a future filled with hope.

The first month of pregnancy for (Y/N) was a period of quiet excitement and newfound awareness. As soon as she shared the news with Tsu'tey, their bond grew even stronger, and they embarked on this journey together with a sense of wonder.

During this initial month, (Y/N) experienced a range of physical and emotional changes. While some women might not yet be aware of their pregnancy at this stage, (Y/N) had a deep connection to her body and noticed subtle shifts.

Morning sickness made its presence felt, though it wasn't just limited to the mornings. There were moments of queasiness that could strike at any time of the day. She found comfort in sipping herbal teas that the clan's healers recommended to ease the nausea. Tsu'tey was always by her side, ready with soothing words and a helping hand whenever she needed it.

Fatigue was another constant companion during the first month. (Y/N) often found herself needing more rest than usual, and Tsu'tey made sure she had a comfortable place to rest and recuperate. The Omaticaya clan members, aware of their leader's impending fatherhood, were also supportive, offering assistance with chores and responsibilities.

Emotionally, (Y/N) experienced a mix of happiness, anticipation, and occasional anxiety. She couldn't help but wonder about the kind of parent she would be and how their child would fit into the clan's evolving dynamics. Tsu'tey was her anchor during these moments of reflection, assuring her that they would face the future together, as a strong and loving family.

As the first month passed, the news of (Y/N)'s pregnancy gradually spread throughout the clan. The Omaticaya celebrated the impending arrival of a new member with joy and hope, and they gathered around the couple, offering blessings and support.

Tsu'tey, who had been busy with the responsibilities of leadership, took moments to connect with (Y/N) and the life growing inside her. He would place his hand gently on her belly, feeling a sense of wonder as he imagined their child's future among the Na'vi.

The first month of pregnancy for (Y/N) was a time of gentle transitions and growing anticipation. She and Tsu'tey faced the challenges and joys of this new chapter with love, determination, and the unwavering support of the Omaticaya clan.

The second and third months of (Y/N)'s pregnancy brought with them a deeper sense of purpose and a heightened awareness of the challenges ahead. Balancing the responsibilities of helping the village rebuild with the anticipation of their growing family tested both (Y/N) and Tsu'tey in unique ways.

As the weeks passed, (Y/N) found herself adjusting to the physical changes of pregnancy. Her morning sickness began to ease, bringing some relief. Still, she had to be mindful of her energy levels and listen to her body's cues, which sometimes meant stepping back from strenuous tasks. The healers of the Omaticaya clan continued to offer guidance and support, ensuring her well-being.

Tsu'tey, as the clan leader, faced a relentless stream of decisions and duties related to the village's reconstruction. He leaned on the strength and resilience of his people, delegating tasks to clan members to ensure the new settlement continued to grow. At the same time, he made a conscious effort to be there for (Y/N), recognizing that her well-being and their growing family were his top priorities.

Together, (Y/N) and Tsu'tey navigated the challenges of rebuilding their lives while preparing for the arrival of their child. They shared moments of quiet reflection in the evenings, talking about their hopes and dreams for their family. Tsu'tey often spoke about teaching their child the ways of the Na'vi, passing down the traditions and values of their clan.

The Omaticaya clan, aware of their leader's impending fatherhood, rallied around the couple. They helped with household chores, ensured that (Y/N) had access to nutritious meals, and offered their wisdom on parenting and raising a child within the clan. The sense of community and support was a constant source of strength for (Y/N) and Tsu'tey.

During the second and third months, (Y/N) began to feel the first flutters of the baby's movements within her womb. Each kick and twist filled her with awe, reminding her of the life growing inside her. Tsu'tey would often place his hand on her belly, feeling the gentle movements, and they would share smiles and whispered words of love for their unborn child.

While the challenges of rebuilding their village remained, the anticipation of their growing family served as a beacon of hope. (Y/N) and Tsu'tey knew that their child would be born into a world of resilience, love, and unity, surrounded by the warm embrace of the Omaticaya clan.

During the fourth, fifth, and sixth months of (Y/N)'s pregnancy, the physical demands of carrying their child became more pronounced, and (Y/N) found herself struggling with feelings of frustration and inadequacy. In the vibrant world of the Na'vi, where strength and agility were highly valued, she couldn't help but feel like she was falling short.

As she watched other pregnant Na'vi women in the clan continue to ride their ikran and participate in hunting expeditions, (Y/N) felt a growing sense of frustration. She had always been an active member of the Omaticaya clan, and now, as her pregnancy advanced, she found it increasingly difficult to keep up with her usual activities.

One day, as (Y/N) sat by a clear river, her thoughts weighed down by her perceived shortcomings, Jake Sully approached her. He had lived among the Na'vi and understood both their culture and her unique situation as a human who had become one of them.

"(Y/N)," Jake said gently, sitting down beside her. "I've noticed that you're feeling down lately. What's been bothering you?"

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes as she confessed her feelings of uselessness. "I see the other Na'vi women continuing their daily activities, riding ikran and hunting, and here I am struggling just to walk without feeling exhausted. I feel like I'm letting everyone down."

Jake placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I understand why you're feeling this way, (Y/N). But remember, you were once a human, and human women have different experiences during pregnancy. Your body has been through a remarkable transformation, adapting to the ways of the Na'vi. You're carrying a child who will be part of both worlds, and that makes your journey unique."

(Y/N) looked at Jake, her eyes filled with gratitude. "But I still want to contribute, to be a part of the clan's activities."

Jake nodded with a knowing smile. "You don't have to be a warrior or a hunter to contribute, (Y/N). Your wisdom, your love, and the unique perspective you bring to our clan are invaluable. You're carrying the future of our people, and that's the most important role of all."

Touched by Jake's words, (Y/N) wiped away her tears. She realized that her journey through pregnancy was bound to be different, but it was no less significant. She had a loving partner in Tsu'tey, the support of the Omaticaya clan, and the wisdom of Jake to guide her through this unique experience.

As the months passed, (Y/N) embraced her role as a mother-to-be with newfound confidence. She may not have been riding ikran or hunting, but she was nurturing a new life, one that would bridge the gap between two worlds. With the support of her loved ones and a sense of purpose, she found joy and fulfillment in the path that lay ahead, ready to welcome their child into a world of unity and understanding.

The seventh month of (Y/N)'s pregnancy brought with it a sense of eager anticipation. As her belly continued to swell with the growing life inside, she and Tsu'tey decided to set aside a special day to choose names for their soon-to-arrive baby. It was a tradition among the Na'vi to carefully select names that held deep meaning, reflecting the hopes and dreams for the child.

One warm and tranquil afternoon, (Y/N) and Tsu'tey found a quiet spot beneath the shade of a large willow tree by the river. They sat cross-legged on a woven mat, facing each other, their hands intertwined. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, and the sounds of the forest provided a soothing backdrop for their important task.

Tsu'tey spoke first, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've been thinking about names for our child, (Y/N). For a boy, I like the name Nari. It means 'strong,' and I hope our son will grow to be as strong as our clan."

(Y/N) smiled at the choice. "Nari is a wonderful name, Tsu'tey. For a girl, I've been considering Aluna. It means 'peace,' and I want our daughter to bring peace to our hearts and our clan."

Tsu'tey nodded in agreement. "Aluna is a beautiful name. Strong and peaceful, just like you, (Y/N)."

They continued to brainstorm names, taking turns suggesting options and discussing their meanings. For a boy, they considered names like Tarok, meaning 'brave,' and for a girl, Neytiri, in honor of their dear friend and fellow clan member. Each name carried a special significance, representing qualities they wished for their child.

As they deliberated, (Y/N) felt a deep connection with Tsu'tey and their growing family. She realized that this was not just a choice of names; it was a celebration of their love, their hopes, and their shared future. The anticipation of meeting their child in just a few short months filled their hearts with joy.

After much thought and consideration, they settled on the names. For a boy, they chose Nari, a name representing strength, and for a girl, Aluna, embodying peace. With these names in mind, they felt even more connected to the life growing within (Y/N)'s belly, eager to welcome Nari or Aluna into their loving arms.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, (Y/N) and Tsu'tey held each other close, their hearts filled with gratitude and excitement. They knew that the journey ahead would be a remarkable one, and they were ready to embrace it together as a family, with Nari or Aluna at its heart.

The eighth month of (Y/N)'s pregnancy brought with it a sense of camaraderie among the Na'vi women of the Omaticaya clan. Neytiri, who had become like a sister to (Y/N) and Tsu'tey, was more than happy to lend her support to the pregnant women of the tribe. It was a time when the women came together, sharing their experiences, wisdom, and traditions.

On a bright and sunny morning, the pregnant Na'vi women gathered beneath the shade of a massive tree in the heart of the clan's new settlement. They sat on woven mats, surrounded by baskets filled with vibrant blooms and fragrant herbs. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers and the soft hum of conversation.

Neytiri, with her gentle smile and nurturing spirit, led the gathering. She had graciously taken on the role of guiding the expectant mothers through this phase of their journey. (Y/N) sat among the women, her pregnant belly a testament to the life she carried within.

As the women worked together, weaving intricate flower crowns and arranging the blooms into beautiful bouquets, they shared stories of their own pregnancies, recalling the joys and challenges they had faced. Some spoke of the excitement of their first child, while others offered advice on coping with the physical changes that came with pregnancy.

Neytiri, with her wealth of knowledge, shared traditional Na'vi remedies and practices that could alleviate discomfort and promote the well-being of both mother and child. Her presence was a source of comfort and inspiration for (Y/N) and the other expectant mothers.

"(Y/N)," Neytiri said, turning to her with a warm smile, "You are a part of our clan, and your journey is a unique one. You may have been born human, but your heart is Na'vi. We are here to support you as you bring a child into our world, and we are honored to share in this experience with you."

Tears of gratitude welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes as she nodded. She had come to love her Na'vi family deeply, and this gathering of women was a reminder of the strength of their community. They were united not just by blood but by their shared values, traditions, and the bonds they had formed.

As the day passed, the women wove their stories and their flower crowns together, creating memories that would forever be etched in their hearts. The eighth month of (Y/N)'s pregnancy became a time of connection and celebration, a testament to the beauty of unity and the enduring spirit of the Omaticaya clan.

The ninth month of (Y/N)'s pregnancy was filled with eager anticipation and the feeling that their child's arrival was imminent. She stood with the other Na'vi women, watching the horizon for the return of their mates, husbands, brothers, and fathers from the hunting party. The air was charged with excitement, and a sense of unity enveloped the waiting group.

As they scanned the distant landscape, (Y/N) suddenly felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She gasped, clutching her belly as a warm rush of fluid signaled that her water had broken. Panic and realization washed over her, and she turned to the women beside her, trying to convey her urgency with wide eyes.

Without hesitation, the Na'vi women swiftly guided (Y/N) toward the healing tent. Her contractions intensified, and she couldn't help but cry out for Tsu'tey, her voice filled with longing. She wanted him there with her during this pivotal moment, but the urgency of the situation pressed on.

Inside the healing tent, the skilled healers and midwives immediately recognized that (Y/N) was in labor. They began to attend to her, guiding her into a birthing pool and providing comfort as the contractions grew stronger and closer together. Despite their best efforts, (Y/N) was already deep into labor and had to begin pushing.

Each push was met with determination and courage, but (Y/N) continued to call out for Tsu'tey, her heart aching for his presence. Her strength wavered, but she drew from the support of the healers and the women around her.

Meanwhile, the hunting party returned to the village, led by Jake Sully. Jake had noticed (Y/N)'s and Neytiri’s absence amongst the crowd of woman, a healer approached Tsu'tey with a sense of urgency, relaying the news of her labor. Panic and worry etched across Tsu'tey's face, and he wasted no time rushing to the tent where (Y/N) was giving birth.

Inside the tent, (Y/N) lay in the birthing pool, her body glistening with sweat, her voice filled with both pain and determination. Neytiri, her trusted friend and clan sister, stood by her side, offering words of encouragement.

And then, in a moment that felt like an eternity, (Y/N) gave one final push. The room seemed to hold its breath as she brought their child into the world. With a triumphant cry, her baby boy took his first breath, and the room erupted in joyous celebration.

Tsu'tey entered the tent just in time to witness the miraculous moment. His heart swelled with pride and love as he rushed to (Y/N)'s side, tears in his eyes. Together, they marveled at the tiny, precious life they had brought into their clan.

Neytiri, with a grin that stretched from ear to ear, announced, "It's a boy!" The healing tent filled with cheers and laughter, and the clan members celebrated the arrival of the newest member of the Omaticaya clan.

In the midst of the joyous chaos, (Y/N) and Tsu'tey shared a moment of profound connection as they held their newborn son in their arms. It was a testament to their love and strength as a couple and their unwavering bond with their Na'vi family. The birth of their son marked the beginning of a new chapter filled with hope, unity, and love.

Later that night, as (Y/N) rested in the birthing tent, Tsu'tey sat by the soft glow of a bioluminescent plant, cradling their newborn son in his large, gentle hands. The baby nestled peacefully against his chest, his tiny fingers curled around Tsu'tey's finger.

Tsu'tey looked down at the sleeping infant with a soft smile, his deep amber eyes filled with wonder. "Your mom says babies on Earth are tiny," he whispered, his voice barely above a hushed tone, "At first, I didn't believe her, but now, seeing and holding you, I can confidently say your mother was correct."

He chuckled softly, his tone filled with love and amusement. "You are a little warrior, aren't you? Just like your mother and your father." Tsu'tey's heart swelled with pride as he continued to speak to his son.

"You have a world of adventure ahead of you, my son," Tsu'tey murmured, his voice filled with a promise, "And I will always be here to guide you, to protect you, and to love you, no matter how old you may get."

The baby stirred slightly, his eyes flickering open for a brief moment before drifting back into peaceful slumber. Tsu'tey's heart melted as he watched his son, marveling at the tiny life he held in his hands.

With a tender kiss on the baby's forehead, Tsu'tey continued to whisper words of love and protection into the night, ensuring that their newborn son would always know the depth of his father's devotion and the warmth of their family's embrace.

[kingsdespair-if]

KING'S DESPAIR: THE FOG OF WAR. BOOK 1.

''Welcome, dear slayer.

Or better yet, slayer-to-be.

Sit with me by the fire and help yourself to some ale.

This journey will be long.

And what a journey it will be!

We are about to slay the spawn of a god.''

King's Despair is set in Melethya, a planet similar to Earth.

Our main character is a young adventurer sought after by the renowned sage Egon. Egon presents a mission to slay creatures born from nightmares, the offspring of a bestial god believed to have created the entire universe.

But is this belief true?

Before the creatures can be slain, a sword must be retrieved. Its pieces are scattered throughout the continent of Kellet, where the slayer was born and where our adventure begins.

Kellet is the largest of the five great continents in Melethya. It is also the most hostile, filled with magical creatures who are not keen on sharing their spaces. Now, you must form a party with creatures from different species who despise each other and try to make it work. The greater good calls for heroes, and you are those heroes… sort of.

Choose from 6 unique races, each with their own abilities and appearances.

Fully customize your SLAYER, including their name, height, weight, eyes, body, hair, sexuality, and gender.

Romance, befriend, or become enemies with any of the 6 romance options (plus a secret one).

Select your class, define your personality, and determine the fate of the world. Fight for peace or for destruction.

And who knows, you might even have the opportunity to hatch a dragon egg and have a dragon companion. 👀

This game will primarily focus on character interactions and romance.

Please note that this game contains explicit content and graphic violence, and is only suitable for players aged 18 and above. Reader discretion is advised (This is a very horny and very gory game).

Amisha Kahax, SHE/HER, 29 years old, lesbian, WARG. She has been your best friend since childhood, when your parents found her lost and alone in the forest. Amisha is a formidable warrior who can transform into a powerful white tiger. Despite her fierce appearance, she has a sweet and playful personality, often teasingly flirtatious with the female Slayer. Amisha will always crush on the female Slayer and is dedicated to protecting her friends and loved ones.

Standing at a height of 5'11" (1,82), she possesses a muscular physique and wields a heavy battle axe with great skill.

[Friends to lovers, puppy love, best friends falling in love]

Veleena, SHE/HER, 31 years old, bisexual, HALF ROYAL ELF. Veleena possesses a quiet and lethal demeanor. She is cold and distant, likely due to the mistreatment from her father and the abandonment by her mother since birth. Her father, a human from the human realm, began training her in combat from a young age, as soon as she could hold a dagger in her small hands. Despite her tough exterior, Veleena is fiercely loyal to her cousin, Veldon. However, there are moments when she lets her guard down and reveals her vulnerability, as evidenced by the faint sound of her crying when she believes everyone else is asleep.

Veleena stands at 5'7" (1.70) with a slender body. She has albinism.

[Oblivious to love, Emotional scars, Everyone can see it]

Prince Khalid Razzarq-cassim, HE/HIM, 24 years old, bisexual, HASSAM. Meet Khalid, the youngest member of the royal Hassam lineage. He is fiercely loyal to his people and will go to great lengths to protect them from the mistreatment of other races. Khalid is a strong and passionate individual who isn't afraid to show it. He tends to judge others quickly and is even quicker to dismiss any threats. With a strong sense of pride and stubbornness,

Khalid stands at a height of 5'3"(1,60), taller than most in his race, and despises when anyone suggests otherwise.

[Enemies to lovers, Unattainable love, Lovers in denial, Royal]

Veldon Heredon, HE/HIM, 33 years old bisexual, HUMAN. Veldon is Veleena's older cousin. He hails from the human realm's royalty and takes great pleasure in indulging himself in the city's brothels. He enjoys getting to know the people who work there, as well as engaging in activities like drinking and gambling. However, he puts a pause on his fun-filled schedule when his cousin needs him. At that moment, his playful smile transforms into a serious frown. Veldon has always made it a point to protect his cousin, even from her own father. The scar on Veleena's face haunts his nightmares, as he blames himself for it.

Veldon takes pride in his appearance and engages in regular training for two main reasons: to ensure his cousin's safety and to maintain his attractiveness to potential suitors. He stands at a height of 5'9'' (1,75).

[One-night stand to something more meaningful, Belated love epiphany, Playboy in love]

Kaellë Lorthan, SHE/HER, 27 years old, demisexual. SALT ELF. Kaellë is a timid salt elf who is fearful of her own shadow, but possesses exceptional healing skills. She has never failed to save a patient, even during her years working aboard perilous merchant ships. Accompanying her at all times is her affectionate sea wyvern, Jokhan. Blushing easily and frequently hiding behind her hands, Kaellë exudes a charming presence. However, her thanatophobia raises doubts about her suitability for her current occupation. "Has Egon lost his mind? Oh well, so be it."

She is 5' 1'' (1,55).

[Love at first sight, First love, Can’t say 'I love you', Sweet love]

Mauthak, the cruel, HE/HIM, 35 years old, gay, ORC. Mauthak lives up to his name, being strong, big, and fierce. However, this doesn't mean he indiscriminately kills every creature he encounters. He simply enjoys fighting a little too much for his own good. As the leader of his Orc tribe, Mauthak is responsible for training the young recruits in the army, a role he takes very seriously. He has a love for drinking, fighting, and sex, making him a straightforward individual.

Physically, Mauthak is an imposing figure, standing at a towering height of 6' 5'' (1,98). He possesses the strength of a minotaur. He confidently struts around, his muscular and scarred chest exposed, wearing heavy armor on his shoulders.

[Redemption, Nobody thinks it will work, Forbidden love]

SECRET. Selectable Gender, 28 years old, gay/lesbian/heterosexual, their sexual orientation depends on MC's gender. UNKNOWN race.

They are familiar with you, even if you are unaware of them. They have been discreetly observing you, captivated by you. You are their sole focus.

Unknown height.

They possess immense power. Wait, did you hear that?

[Unrequited love, Dark secret, Secret identity, Secret admirer, If I can’t have you, nobody will]

PLAY THE DEMO

English is not my first language, so please be gentle with me.

//

My side project, Shadow of Styria, can be found HERE.

//

Join the Discord and come chat with me! 🥰 https://discord.gg/NcnHwV65xn

[miguelswifey04]

This my first time requesting for something

Can u write an badboy miguel x goodgirl reader fanfic (college au,u can pick)

Idk where goodgirl reader is an shy yet an obedient person,who does whatever people want,and only thinking about it as an kind gesture, and who doesn't know any Spanish and where badboy miguel is very much have more fun teasing reader with his knowledge of Spanish,then hanging out with his friends, but can get jealous,(but doesnt show it and just scared them away with his cold glare)when someone touches his Conejito/bunny, or trys to take advantage of her,(whenever he see someone being flirty with reader he will just walked over there an place his head on her shoulder and pull her close to him, and while glaring at the person with such an harsh and cold glare to them)

(Umm... u couldddd put smut in it as well,if u want 😅)

Anyway thanks for it and have an great day🤗

omg yes ofc!! i love this idea so so much!! thank you lots for requesting love 💕

bad boy! miguel x good girl! reader (college au)

cw// slightly suggestive & somewhat contains smut (nsfw 18+, smut; with plot)

summary; two distinctive personalities meet and find’s themselves irrevocably drawn to one another. cliche, as always the bad boy always falling for the goody two shoes of a good girl <3

the bad boy, miguel o'hara, exudes confidence and mischief, while the good girl, you, is obedient and kind-hearted. little did they know, their paths were about to collide, igniting a passionate and intense connection.

you was always willing to help out others, often going above and beyond to please those around you. you believed in the power of kind gestures, never considering your selflessness as a weakness. miguel, on the other hand, was known for his mischievous nature and snarky sense of humor. he took pleasure in teasing others, especially the shy and reserved person that you were, who had captivated his attention.

one day, as you crossed paths in the college library, miguel couldn't resist the opportunity to tease reader with his knowledge of spanish. he strolled up beside you, a sly grin playing on his lips. "hola, conejito," he said in a smooth, teasing voice, using the spanish word for bunny. you blushed, not understanding the meaning but captivated by his voice.

“i’m sorry, i don't speak spanish," you replied, your voice filled with shyness.

miguel chuckled, leaning in closer. "don’t worry, conejito, i can teach you," he said, his voice laced with seductive undertones. he spent hours teaching you naughty spanish phrases, relishing your adorable reactions and the growing bond between them.

as your friendship grew, miguel became fiercely protective of you. his jealousy ignited whenever someone dared to flirt with you or tried to take advantage of your kind nature. without hesitation, he would stride over, placing his head on your shoulder and pulling you close, his cold glare silencing any potential threat.

one fateful evening, after a night of teasing and stolen glances, your true desires could no longer be contained. miguel, unable to resist any longer, pinned you against the wall, his eyes filled with raw passion. "you drive me crazy, conejito," he growled, his voice husky with desire. "i can't keep my hands off you."

with a hunger that had been building for far too long, miguel claimed your lips with an intensity that left you both breathless. your bodies pressed against each other, your senses heightened by the electric energy between you. clothes were shed, revealing miguel’s muscular form and the innocence of your body.

as you indulged in each other's pleasure, miguel explored every inch of your body, leaving no doubt in your minds of his desire and yearning for you. your moans mingled in the air, echoing in the confined space as your connection deepened with each intimate touch.

in that moment, as miguel made love to you, your worlds collided in a symphony of raw emotions and unbridled passion. the shy and obedient you discovered a newfound sense of liberation, while the bad boy miguel found solace and tenderness in the arms of the person who had stolen his heart.

your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your desires intertwining in a dance of ecstasy. miguel showered you with affection and devotion, disregarding the world outside those four walls. and as you reached the pinnacle of your pleasure, your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you both breathless and utterly satisfied.

wrapped in each other's arms, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of your connection, you both knew that your love and desire would continue to burn brightly. the college campus may have seen your passionate encounters, but the depth and intensity of your love would remain a secret between you, your hearts forever entwined in a bond that defied the norms of their college lives.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit @meeom

[allsouls-emma]

Flicker of splashes

✧✧✧ ─ Léon Marchand X Female!Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, No previous swimming knowledge!, Heated exchanges, Unrealistic time frame and settings. (let me know if i missed any x)

In the early morning light, the water of the Olympic-sized swimming pool at Arizona State University shimmered like a vast, still lake. The quiet was occasionally broken by the soft splash of a flipper or the gasp of an overeager swimmer. At the far end, a young man named Leon Marchand emerged from the locker room, his eyes scanning the area. His muscular frame was a testament to countless hours spent slicing through the water, and his focus was unyielding as he approached the starting block. Hailing from France, Leon was a new addition to the ASU swim team, known for his fierce determination and unmatched skill in the butterfly stroke.

Leon's hair was slicked back, revealing sharp features that mirrored the intensity in his gaze. He wore the standard-issue swimsuit of the ASU Sun Devils, a bold combination of maroon and gold that made him stand out against the stark blue of the pool. His teammates had already started their warm-up laps, their bodies gliding through the water in a harmonious ballet of athleticism. But Leon was not there to make friends or admire the view; he was there to win. He'd been recruited with the promise of a scholarship and the chance to prove himself on the international stage, and he wasn't about to let anyone or anything stand in his way.

Across the pool, Kate, an English swimmer with a reputation for her sharp wit and even sharper elbows, observed Leon from the corner of her eye. Her short, blonde hair bobbed in the water as she executed a perfect flip turn at the end of her lane. Kate was known for her speed in the freestyle events, and she had her sights set on breaking records. Her blue eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the newcomer's confident stride. Competition was what made her tick, and she felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of having a rival who might actually be able to push her limits.

The air was charged with the scent of chlorine and the faint aroma of coffee from the nearby cafe, where coaches and teammates chatted in hushed tones. As Leon took his place alongside Kate, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation. He was good, really good, and that meant he was a threat. But Kate wasn't one to back down from a challenge. She had come to ASU to be the best, and she wasn't about to let some cocky Frenchman steal her thunder without a fight.

Their rivalry grew with every practice, every race, and every shared glance. They pushed each other, unspoken barbs passing between them like silent electric currents. Yet, beneath the surface of their hostility, there was a mutual respect, a recognition of the fire that burned in both their hearts. They were two of a kind, both driven by a passion for the sport that consumed them.

But it was during a particularly intense training session, when the tension between them reached a boiling point, that something unexpected happened. Leon's powerful kick sent a spray of water into Kate's face, and she emerged from the pool, spluttering and furious. Wiping the water from her eyes, she spun around to face him, her voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped, her British accent sharp as a tack.

Leon smirked, his own eyes glinting with mischief. "Just trying to cool you down, Kate," he said, his French accent lilting over her name in a way that made her even more irritated.

Their coach, a stoic man named Jenkins, stepped in before the situation could escalate. "Alright, you two," he barked. "Save it for the competition."

And so they did. But the seeds of something more than rivalry had been planted, and as they trained together, competed against each other, and shared their love for the water, Leon and Kate found themselves drawn into a dance of desire and challenge that neither could ignore.

The swim meet against Yale was fast approaching, and the pressure was on. The ASU team had been preparing for weeks, their bodies pushed to the brink of endurance. In the final moments before the mixed relay, Leon and Kate shared a look that was a mix of nerves and excitement. They were the anchor legs of their respective teams, and this race would be the decider. The crowd roared as the first swimmers took their marks, the air thick with anticipation.

Leon dove in, his muscles propelling him through the water with the grace of a dolphin. He took the lead early on, setting a blistering pace that seemed untouchable. Meanwhile, Kate waited on the edge of the pool, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the race unfold. When it was her turn, she dove in with a ferocity that surprised even herself, her arms and legs moving like pistons as she chased after the Yale swimmers.

The race was tight, and as they reached the final exchange, Kate and Leon's teams were neck and neck. The tension in the air was palpable as the two swimmers reached out to touch the pads and start their final sprints. But disaster struck for ASU; a miscommunication between teammates caused a delay in the handoff, and Leon's team took the lead.

Furious, Kate slammed her fist against the side of the pool as she watched Leon pull ahead. The crowd's cheers only fueled her anger, and she turned to her team, her eyes blazing. "We can still do this," she shouted, her voice echoing through the cavernous space. "We're not going to lose because of a mistake!"

Leon heard her words, and something shifted inside of him. He knew he could win this race, but he also knew that Kate's spirit was something to be reckoned with. He pushed himself harder, his strokes becoming more powerful as he approached the final meters. But just as he was about to touch the pad and claim victory, Kate's hand shot out of the water, her fingers brushing against his ankle. It was a move that was against the rules, but in that moment, it didn't matter. The connection was electric, and for a split second, they were no longer enemies, but two athletes bound by a shared passion.

The race ended in a tie, but the real victory was the spark that had been ignited between them. In the aftermath of the meet, as the teams cooled down and the tension slowly dissipated, Kate approached Leon, her expression unreadable. "We should talk," she said, her voice low and serious.

Leon nodded, his heart racing. He knew what she meant, and he felt the same way. They had both been playing a game of cat and mouse, hiding their true feelings behind a facade of rivalry. But now, with the water still dripping from their bodies and the scent of victory and defeat mingling in the air, they could no longer deny the attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface.

In the quiet of the emptying pool area, Kate reached out and touched Leon's arm, her hand lingering there for a moment before she turned and walked away. Leon watched her go, his eyes never leaving her retreating figure. He knew that from this point on, their relationship would never be the same. The question was, could they navigate the choppy waters of love and competition without letting one drown the other?

Their conversation took place later that evening, under the warm glow of the outdoor lights that illuminated the deserted pool. The air was cool, a stark contrast to the heated emotions they had shared in the water. Kate spoke first, her voice a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Why did you do that?" she asked, referring to his actions during the race.

Leon leaned against the side of the pool, his eyes never leaving hers. "I didn't mean to win," he admitted. "I just… I wanted to feel your touch." His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people on Earth.

Kate's expression softened, and she took a step closer. "That was dangerous," she said, her voice quieter now. "But also incredibly thrilling."

They stood there for a moment, the unspoken understanding passing between them like an invisible current. Then, without warning, Leon reached out and pulled Kate into his arms, their wet bodies pressed together. The kiss was as fiery as their rivalry had been, a mix of passion and challenge that neither of them could resist. It was a declaration of war and a peace treaty all in one, a promise of what was to come.

As the days turned into weeks, their relationship grew in intensity. They trained harder than ever, pushing each other to new heights. Yet, there was also a tenderness that began to emerge, a gentle touch here, a shared smile there. The tension between them was no longer just about winning; it was about wanting to be the best for each other.

But as the swim season progressed, so did the stakes. The national championships were approaching, and their love story was about to face its greatest test. Would they be able to balance their newfound love with their burning desire to win? Or would their competitive spirits drive them apart just when they needed each other the most?

The night before the nationals, Kate lay in bed, her thoughts racing like a river in flood. She knew that tomorrow, she would not only be racing against the best swimmers in the country but also against Leon. She felt a strange mix of excitement and dread, knowing that she had to face her fears and her love all at once.

Leon, in his own room, felt the same. He had never wanted to win so badly and never felt so conflicted about it. Yet, as he closed his eyes, he saw Kate's face, her eyes alight with determination, and he knew that no matter what happened in the pool, she was already his champion.

The following morning, the air in the stadium was electric. The stands were packed with screaming fans, and the pool gleamed like a giant, aquatic battlefield. Kate and Leon met each other's gaze across the water, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. Then the starting gun fired, and they were off, their bodies moving in perfect harmony with the water.

The race was a blur of color and motion, each stroke a silent declaration of love and war. They pushed each other, challenged each other, and ultimately, it was Kate who touched the pad first, breaking the tape with a triumphant smile. But as she turned to face Leon, she saw that he was not far behind, his eyes shining with pride and admiration.

In that moment, as the crowd roared and confetti fell around them, Kate realized that she had won more than just a race. She had found someone who understood her, who knew her strengths and weaknesses, and who loved her for all of it. And as they embraced, their hearts beating in sync, she knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, as equals and as champions.

Their relationship grew stronger with each passing day, each practice a silent negotiation of love and competition. They learned to balance the delicate scales of their emotions, to support each other in victory and in defeat. The bond that had been forged in the heat of the pool had transcended the boundaries of the sport, becoming something deeper and more profound.

But the swimming world was not without its challenges. Jealous teammates and whispers of favoritism followed them like shadows, and the pressure to win grew heavier with each race. Yet, Leon and Kate remained steadfast, their love for each other fueling their determination to succeed. They became each other's rocks, each other's air, and each other's inspiration.

The national championships were a whirlwind of emotion and adrenaline. Medals were won and lost, records were shattered, and through it all, Leon and Kate's eyes never left each other's. They were no longer just rivals; they were partners in a dance that was both fierce and beautiful. As they stepped onto the podium together, holding hands and basking in the glow of their success, they knew that they had found something much greater than gold.

In the end, it was their shared passion for swimming that had brought them together, but it was their love for each other that made them unstoppable. They had proven to themselves and to the world that sometimes, the greatest rivalries can become the most powerful alliances. And as they looked into the horizon of their futures, they knew that no matter how rough the waters got, they would always have each other to keep them afloat.

The whispers and jealous glances from their teammates slowly faded away as Leon and Kate's bond grew stronger. They had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their relationship, turning every challenge into an opportunity to grow. They became an unshakeable force in the swimming world, inspiring not just their peers but also those who watched them from the stands.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of fear that their love would somehow taint their competitive spirits. They had to learn to separate their personal lives from their professional ones, to keep the fire of their rivalry alive without letting it consume them. It was a delicate dance, one that required trust and communication.

Yet, as they stood on the edge of the pool, their eyes locked, ready to dive into the cool water for yet another race, they knew that they had found a balance. The water was their battleground, but outside of it, they were each other's sanctuary. And as they pushed off the starting blocks and sliced through the water, their hearts pounding in unison, they swam not just for themselves, but for the love that had transformed their lives.

Their story became the stuff of legends at ASU, a tale of passion, rivalry, and love that transcended the boundaries of the pool. As they graduated and moved on to compete internationally, they carried with them the lessons they had learned from each other. They were no longer just swimmers; they were a team, a force that could not be denied.

And when the time came for them to swim in the Olympic games, the entire world watched as they glided through the water, their strokes a testament to their journey. Whether they won gold or not, they had already achieved something far greater: a love that had made them both better athletes and better people. And as they touched the wall together, their hearts swelling with pride, they knew that no matter what the scoreboard said, they had already won the race that truly mattered.

Would like to say thank you to @laeana, @scottstr3et, @sashasedah, for giving me the push to write for Léon.

[fir-fireweed]

VIATICA, a new interactive fiction available free to read on itch.io and written in Twine.

Set in a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future, with a focus on personal growth, as well as platonic, familial, and romantic bonds.

Your world is a desert, both figuratively and literally. Speech is prohibited, books are outlawed, and any meaningful human interaction is nonexistent. Humans are reduced to the job they do for The City. There are no names; instead, everyone is identified by a number.

You are H-313, a healer.

Create and customize your character: male, female, or non-binary; gay, straight, or bisexual. Become an individual in a world of drones. Learn to speak, express your emotions, define your personality. Dream big, resist tyranny, inspire the masses, and forge a new world. Or not. This is your journey, after all.

There are no point-based choices or outcomes. No choice is wrong—it simply changes the type of person you grow to become.

ROs:

B-485, Lion (he/him)

He is a builder, stoic and strong. He is tall and muscular with brown skin and black, coiled hair and beard. At 26 he is the eldest of the group. Later in the story, he chooses the name Lion for himself. He is fierce and protective of those he cares for. But what truly sets him apart from other workers is his ability to speak clearly and articulately. How? More to the point, can he teach you?

F-525, Heron (he/him)

He is a feeder, aloof and placid. He is medium height, with long blonde hair usually tied back in a ponytail and pale blue eyes. He is 22 years old, same as you. Later in the story, he chooses the name Heron for himself. He does not question his role, nor act in any way contrary to what is expected. What passions and tempers will you find when that veneer cracks? More importantly, why does he seem so familiar?

S-622, Ferret (she/her)

She is a sweeper, slender and scrappy. She is medium height, with olive skin, dark brown hair and narrow grey eyes. She is 21 years old. Later in the story, she chooses the name Ferret for herself. She is impulsive, stubborn, and quick to anger. When you first meet her she is very combative, but you eventually see the fearless and inquisitive soul underneath. Could she be a kindred spirit, or perhaps even more?

R-793, Robin (they/them)

They are a burner, lithe and wary. They have ivory skin, curly red hair, and heterochromia: one eye is green, the other brown. They are 20 years old. Later in the story, they choose the name Robin for themself. In a world where roles are based on gender and strict definitions of what a worker is, they have always felt out of place. Their discomfort was made worse by a recent traumatic experience. Can you help them to accept and appreciate the worthy person that they are?

Content Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences. Possibly triggering topics present in the story include blood, violence, death, suicide, rape (mentioned), child abuse, mature language, and sexual content (optional).

[from-memphis-with-love]

Hi. May I request a late 60s Elvis (charro era) in which he leaves the beard a little longer and female reader is horny because of it. He catches her staring intently until she jumps at him. Smut detailed, not rough but passionate and sensual. Thanks.

Stubble Trouble

(I won these unreleased photos of Elvis on the set of Charro! at an auction recently. I felt they were appropriately delicious for this one-shot)

Summary: Elvis comes home from filming Charro!, looking sexier than ever with a beard. You wish he never had to leave for work again. Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. But a little domestic fluff too?

You watch the horizon from the porch, the sun setting in a spectacle of orange and pink. The hush of twilight settles over the estate. Humidity clings to your skin, the balmy late summer air heavy with the scent of magnolias.

"Elvis car!" Olivia's voice pierces the calm, her small finger pointing down the winding driveway.

"That's right, baby girl. Daddy's home," you confirm, heart swelling with anticipation and a touch of melancholy. He's home, but for how long?

Will bounces on his toes beside you. "And he's got a beard!"

And indeed, it is your husband’s Cadillac, glossy and grand, pulling up a day early. You smile from ear to ear. Then, a shadow of concern—he's not alone. The Memphis Mafia spill out of the van behind him, their laughter and boisterous greetings disrupting the evening quietude.

You squint at the figure emerging last from the car. It's him, Elvis, with an unfamiliar scruff darkening his jawline. Your breath catches at the sight—your husband, yet somehow brand new.

Elvis’ eyes find you across the front yard, and the heat in his gaze makes your breath catch. But before he can reach you, a rocket shoots into his legs. "Dad! You're home!" 

Your husband scoops up your eight-year-old son, giving him the hug of the century. "Hey there, buddy! Did you grow a foot while I was gone?" As your two boys roughhouse, your daughter Olivia, toddles over on wobbly legs. Elvis kneels down, peppering her chubby cheeks with kisses. 

"Daddy, fuzzy!" Olivia's small hand reaches for Elvis's scruff. He chuckles, letting her chubby fingers explore his rough face. Her tiny brows furrow, her eyes well up. Her dimpled chin quivers. A baby sniffle pierces the air.

"Shhh." Elvis soothes, gently wiping away the beginnings of a tear with his thumb. He picks her up in his muscular arms, whispering into her ear. The cries recede; a whimsical giggle replaces them. "I missed you rascals something fierce. Were you good for Mama?"

"They were angels," you assure, joining the family huddle. "Welcome home, honey."

Dusting off his pants, Elvis rises to his feet, Olivia secured in one arm and Will clinging to the other. He approaches you, a certain swagger in his step that you've missed and his eyes flashing with something you know all too well—mischief. He sets the kids down and pulls you close, his kiss a sweet homecoming all its own. "Glad to be back, mama." His murmured endearment, the rasp of his beard on your skin, they feel so good that it makes your head spin.

"Welcome home, daddy," you reply, your voice steadier than your racing pulse. The feel of him, changed yet the same, stirs a dormant longing within you.

Your fingers itch to touch the unexpected growth shadowing his jaw. The beard transforms him, adds a rugged edge to the familiar contours of his face that you hadn't realized you'd long for until now. "This is new."

"Thought I'd try something different," Elvis replies, his smile a slow burn just for you. It lights a spark deep within, a yearning you've kept banked during those long nights alone.

"Huh. Looks good on you." You keep your voice light, but inside, desire smolders, fanned to life by this simple change. 

"Thought you might like it." His voice drops, a secret shared amidst the din. "Come on in, we've got stories to tell," he says, motioning to the rowdy crew behind him.

You nod, masking disappointment. You'd hoped for privacy, for that passionate reunion you've been craving. But now, with the house about to burst with company, you steel yourself for another night of playing hostess rather than lover.

"Let's get settled first," you suggest, ushering the children ahead of you into the house.

The evening unravels in a blur of activity—dinner preparations, catching up, pick up football. Admittedly, it’s nice to have a house full of laughter, but you wonder when you might have a moment alone with your husband. Amidst it all, you steal glances at Elvis, the way his beard adds a new edge to his expressions, wondering how it might feel against your skin.

“Outta sodas,” you say, hiding a smile. You eye Elvis from across the room. He catches your gaze, the understanding immediately flashing in his eyes.

“I’ll help ya fetch ‘em,” he offers, rising from the couch where he’s been holding court. He follows you into the hallway. The two of you disappear into the cooler back room, away from prying eyes and eager ears. 

Kneeling by the crate of chilled sodas, you feel the cool condensation against your fingertips. When you turn around, he’s right there, taking a step closer than necessary. His breath smells of mint and coffee; his eyes are full of promise.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says. His hand brushes against your cheek, tender yet insistent. “Miss me?”

In answer, you turn and pull his mouth down to yours, kissing him with nearly six weeks worth of pent-up hunger. Your husband makes a surprised, pleased sound against your lips before taking control of the kiss, backing you up against the humming fridge.

"God, I missed you," he pants when you break apart. "Missed this. Feels like forever since I've had you all to myself."

“Since you’ve had me all to yourself?” you chide. “Elvis, you know I love the guys but did they really have to—”

But his hands quiet your thought. They’re everywhere, sliding under your shirt, dipping into the waistband of your jeans. You arch into his touch, desire spiraling through you. "We can't," you protest weakly. "Everyone's right out there..."

"Let ‘em wait." Elvis nips at your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue. "I've been dying to get my hands on you all day." The scratch of his whiskers is a delicious abrasion. It heightens every sensation as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. A shiver wracks your body as the coarse hair rubs over your hammering pulse point. 

The contrast of his soft lips and wiry facial hair is dizzying, addicting. You tilt your head back with a breathy moan, giving him more access even as your hands ball in his shirt. Torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away before you lose all control.

Elvis chuckles darkly against your neck, the vibrations rumbling deliciously through you. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, how much you're loving the sensual brush of his beard on your skin. He drags his fuzzy jaw up to your ear, rasping delightfully against the sensitive flesh behind it.

"Been dreaming about this," he murmurs, his breath hot on your ear as his hands creep beneath your shirt. "About having you trembling for me, my beard on your soft skin as I love on every inch of you..."

You whimper, knees going weak at the erotic promise in his words, the tantalizing burn of his whiskers, the heat of his hard body pressing you into the cool metal of the fridge. It's almost too much, and yet you crave more, already addicted to this new sensation.

"Elvis, please..." you manage, not even sure what you're begging for, only knowing you need him to never, ever stop.

Just as you are about to throw caution to the wind and let your husband take you right there, a knock sounds at the door. 

"Hey, boss!" a voice calls. "Where'd you disappear to, man? Joe wants to run through the press junket schedule."

Elvis groans, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "To be continued," he promises darkly, adjusting himself with a wince.

Stepping back, you reluctantly adjust your clothing. "Raincheck," is all you say, and it's a promise as much as it is a plea. He presses a swift kiss to your lips before opening the door and putting his 'star' smile back on.

You stand frozen for a moment. You shake yourself off. You tell yourself there's always later, there's always tomorrow. You gather the sodas and head back into the main room.

The night drags on. Laughter echoes through the house, amplified by the clink of glasses, the strums of guitars. The party’s in full swing and being a good hostess occupies most of your evening.

You sneak glances at Elvis, at how his beard lends him a new ruggedness that makes your heart hammer in your chest. You long to run your fingers through it, trace the lines of his face. He sometimes looks back, his gaze lingering on you before being pulled away by someone else. His eyes tell you: soon.

Your youngest, Olivia, chatters animatedly about butterflies, and Will bounces around with an energy only an eight-year-old can muster. You enjoy watching them mingle with your friends—however, they also serve as persistent reminders that privacy is out of reach.

Around eleven o’ clock, the house begins to quiet down. People trickle out, leaving behind echoes of laughter and empty plates. The house seems bigger, emptier, a stark contrast to the fullness it held just moments ago. Later, after baths and bedtime stories, you and Elvis collapsed onto the couch together, Elvis pulling your feet into his lap. "I thought I’d never get a minute alone with you," he sighs, kneading your arches.

You let your head fall back, relishing his touch. "I love that you're so busy, but I hate having to share you."

"I'm all yours now, sweetheart." Elvis presses a kiss to your ankle, his beard tickling delightfully. He gives you a heated look from under his lashes. "For the rest of the night, I'm all yours."

Anticipation zings through your veins, and you reach for your husband, already breathless. As he gathers you close, kissing you deeply, you can’t help but think that sometimes, the only thing better than a homecoming... is what comes after.

You sit up, scooting closer to run your fingers over Elvis' fuzzy jaw. "You sure it's you under there? This beard makes you look mighty different," you tease, eyes twinkling. "Like a whole new man."

Elvis turns his head to nip playfully at your fingers, a mischievous glint in his eye. "That so? Should I be worried about this 'new man' stealing my girl?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Never. You know you're the only man for me, beard or no beard."

"Damn right," Elvis growls playfully, his hands settling on your hips as you shift to straddle his lap. "This 'new man' better know his place."

Draping your arms around his neck, you lean in close, your lips brushing his as you speak. "Oh, I don't know. He's pretty sexy. Rugged. Dangerous. Looks like a cowboy..." You let your voice drop to a husky whisper. "I might just be tempted..."

Elvis' fingers flex on your hips, pulling you flush against him. "Is that right?" He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, his beard rasping deliciously on your sensitive skin. "Well, I bet this 'new man' don't know how to touch you like I do."

You gasp as he finds a particularly sensitive spot, your back arching. "Mmm, I think you might be right," you manage breathlessly. "Better prove it to me, just to be sure."

"Gladly." Elvis captures your mouth in a searing kiss, one hand sliding up to tangle in your hair as he sits you on his lap. "Let me show you just how well this old dog knows your body, mama."

You surrender to his touch with a moan, the world falling away until nothing exists but you, Elvis, and the delicious abrasion of his beard on your skin as he sets about thoroughly, blissfully reminding you that he's the only man who could ever make you feel this good.

Your mouths meet in a searing kiss, weeks of pent-up longing pouring out in a slick slide of lips and tongues. You rock against him, reveling in the growing hardness pressing against your center. 

His hands roam your back, dipping under your shirt to stroke the smooth skin beneath. You mewl into his mouth, desire turning molten in your veins. 

Just as you are considering the logistics of riding him right there on the couch, a creak on the stairs has you jumping apart like scalded cats. You hold their breath, waiting to see if one of the kids had woken up.

After a moment of tense silence, Elvis blows out a shaky laugh. "Probably not the best idea to get carried away down here, huh?"

On trembling legs, you climb off his lap, reaching down to adjust the prominent bulge in his jeans. "Probably not," you agree, giving him a heated look. "Bedroom?"

*

“Just gimme five minutes, I have to take off my makeup first.”

You feel Elvis’ presence behind you before you see him, the heat of his gaze pressing against your skin like a physical touch.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, see him leaning shirtless against the doorframe, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his silk pajama pants. That luscious beard frames the wicked slash of his smile. He looks so good it's almost sinful. "See something you like?" His voice is a husky rumble.

"You could say that." You bite your lip, watching his eyes darken. "I really, really like this new look on you."

He prowls closer, crowding you against the vanity. "Yeah? Is that so?"

You turn in his arms, running your hands appreciatively over the firm planes of his chest. "It makes you look dangerous. Sexy." 

Elvis dips his head to nuzzle your throat, the coarse brush of his whiskers making you shiver. "Sexy, huh? How sexy?"

"So sexy it should be illegal." You drag your mouth to his, kissing him with rising urgency. "Take me to bed," you demand against his lips. "Now."

Elvis wastes no time complying, lifting you easily into his arms and carrying you to the bed. He tumbles you onto the sheets, covering your body with his, both of you already breathing hard.

He undresses you slowly, almost reverently, rough fingertips and soft lips and scratchy beard worshipping every inch of skin he unveils. When he finally settles between your thighs, the first intimate rasp of his whiskers makes you cry out, fisting your hands in his hair.

"God, the way you taste," Elvis rasps against your slick folds, his voice rough with desire. "I'll never get enough."

He seals his lips around your most sensitive bundle of nerves and sucks gently, making you cry out and fist your hands in his hair. He groans in response, the vibrations shooting sparks of electricity through your core.

"Please," you whimper, hips rocking shamelessly against his face. "Don't stop..."

Elvis answers with a deep, approving hum, the tip of his tongue flicking over you in maddening little licks. "Never," he murmurs, beard and hot breath on your inner thighs a delicious contrast to his soft, demanding mouth on you. "Want to make you fall apart, over and over. Worship you with my mouth until you forget everything but my name..."

His words, low and fervent and filthy, push you to the brink as much as his dedicated ministrations. You sob out a broken plea as he wraps his lips around you again and sucks hard, pushing two thick fingers into your dripping channel at the same time.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes gutturally, crooking his fingers just right and rubbing ruthless circles around your swollen, aching bud. "Let me feel you, let me taste you falling apart..."

With a keening cry you shatter, back bowing and fingers clutching desperately at the sheets as your release crashes over you in pulsing waves. Elvis works you through it with lips and tongue and fingers, drawing out your pleasure until you collapse against the sheets, boneless and trembling. His beard is gleaming with your slick.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel Elvis pressing tender kisses to your inner thighs, his whiskers a thrilling friction on your sensitive skin. You tug gently on his hair, urging him up your body until you can capture his mouth in a deep, languorous kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you shudder, your spent body already sparking with renewed desire.

"I wanna make you feel good too," you murmur against his lips, nipping playfully at the full bottom one. "I want to show you how much I missed you, how much I need you..."

Elvis' groan is low and needy as you push gently at his shoulders, encouraging him onto his back. You take your time mapping his chest with lips and fingers, re-memorizing every ridge and plane. He's lost in pleasure, muscles jumping under your touch, his breathing ragged as you chart a slow, meandering path down his long torso.

When you reach the waistband of his pajamas, you pause, looking up at him from under your lashes as you hook your fingers under the elastic. Elvis meets your gaze, his own heated and dark with want, his lips parted as he pants softly. Slowly, teasingly, you peel the fabric down, your heart racing in anticipation as his hardness is revealed inch by tortuous inch.

"God, look at you," you breathe, taking in the proud jut of his cock straining towards his belly. A thrill chases down your spine knowing that you did that to him, that he wants you just as desperately as you want him. "Look at this husband of mine... so hard for me already."

"Always," Elvis rasps, his voice strained and his hands fisting in the sheets as you ghost your fingers up his length. "Feels like I'm going to burst out of my skin with how bad I need you..."

You hum in satisfaction, running your thumb over the slick head and making him shudder. Slowly, you lower your lips, never breaking eye contact as you breathe hotly over where he's aching for you. "Let me take care of you," you whisper, a promise and a plea all in one. "Let me show you how much I love you."

Then you take him into your mouth, and the broken moan that spills from his lips is the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

You work him with spit and fingers and lips and tongue and just the barest hint of teeth, relishing every helpless sound you wring from him. You can feel how close he is, his thighs trembling, his grip on your hair bordering on painful. With a wicked hum, your relax your your throat and take him as deep as you can.

Elvis lets loose a stream of garbled curses, his hips jerking erratically. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna—"

But you just doubl your efforts, holding his gaze as you hollow your cheeks and suck hard. With a guttural cry, Elvis spills himself down your throat, his chest heaving as you gentle him through his sweet release.

"Christ," he pants as you release him and crawl up to drape yourself over his chest. "That was... You are..." He gives up and just hauls your mouth to his, kissing you breathless.

*

As you trade slow, deep kisses, you feel Elvis stirring against your thigh once more. A thrill chases down your spine at the evidence of his desire, your own body responding in kind. Wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him gently, savoring the velvety heat of him and the way he pulses in your grip. "Already?" you tease. "Someone's eager."

Elvis nips your bottom lip. "Six weeks," he reminds you, rocking into your grip with a grunt. "You're lucky I lasted five minutes."

Giggling, you straddle his his hips, rubbing yourself along his length until you are both panting. "I think you ought to get to practicing then," you purr. "We've got weeks to make up for."

Elvis groans into your mouth, his hips rocking instinctively into you. "Need you," he pants against your lips, voice rough with want. "Need to be inside you..."

You nod desperately, just as aching to have him filling you up after so long apart. Rising up on your knees, you position him at your entrance, your breath catching as you slowly sink down onto his rigid length. His beard rasps against your neck, sending shivers up your spine.

Your body resists the intrusion at first, unaccustomed to the stretch after weeks without him. Elvis gentles you through it with soft kisses and soothing caresses, whispering words of love and praise as you take him inch by careful inch. The slight discomfort quickly melts into exquisite pleasure as he breaches you fully, your inner walls fluttering around him as you adjust to the thick, heavy feel of him inside you.

"God, baby," Elvis rasps, his big hands gripping your hips almost tight enough to bruise. His eyes are squeezed shut and his brow furrowed in concentration, as if he's fighting for control. "You feel so good. So tight. Like you were made just for me..."

You let out a shuddering sigh as you settle fully into his lap, relishing the sensation of being one with him again. "I was," you breathe, rolling your hips experimentally and making you both gasp. "Only for you. Always."

Slowly, you start to move, rising up until he nearly slips out of you before sliding back down to the hilt. Elvis meets your every downward stroke with an upward roll of his pelvis, burying himself impossibly deep. You set a slow, burning rhythm, sweat beading on your skin as you rock together, drawing out every delicious drag of him inside you.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders and your thighs tremble with exertion, but you barely register the strain. All you can focus on is your husband—his panting breaths and reverent gaze, the thick slide of his cock stretching you again and again, the heat of his body surrounding you and grounding you. In this moment, joined so intimately after what felt like an eternity apart, everything else fades away.

"Missed this," you grit out, your hands roaming restlessly over his back, his neck, scratching the dark hair on his jaw. "Missed you. I love you so damn much."

You rock together, slow and dirty, skin slick with sweat. Clutching at his shoulders, his back, urging him deeper, harder. The wiry scrape of his chest hair and beard against your sensitive nipples makes you writhe on top of him, the added stimulation almost too much to bear.

"Touch yourself," he rasps in your ear, changing the angle of his hips so he is grinding against your clit with every stroke. "Make yourself come on my cock, sweetheart."

You obey with a whimper, fingers flying to your center. Elvis eases you onto your back, gripping your thighs as he gently eases back into you, eyes black with lust as he watches you touch yourself. A private show for his eyes only.

The sight of him above you—miles of tanned skin, thick forearms corded with muscle, narrow hips rolling into you—combined with the magic you are working between your legs undoes you in record time. With a desperate whimper, you convulse around him, fingernails scoring his chest as you fall apart.

"I love you so much," Elvis sighs, fucking you through it. "One more, baby, give me one more."

He lowers himself even closer to you now, spreading your knees wide against his thighs and hugging you close to his chest. Enveloping you and never letting you go. You cling onto him with a sob, the new position letting him fill you impossibly deep. Elvis’ hands cup your backside, helping to fuck you a slow, tantalizing rhythm. 

“My wife, my wife,” he moans and his beard rasps the tender skin of your neck and he bites and sucks, stoking the heat building low in your belly.

"Elvis," you keen, fingernails digging into his shoulders. He holds you closer, whispering unintelligibly into your ear. "Oh god..."

He reaches between your bodies to rub tight circles around your bud, and the sensation combined with the delicious drag of him inside you sends you flying. You come with a silent scream, back arching, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Elvis follows you a heartbeat later, burying his face in your neck with a muffled shout. You rock together through the aftershocks, until you collapse bonelessly underneath his sweat-slicked chest.

Tumbling back against the pillows, you are a tangle of sated, trembling limbs. Elvis’ big hands soothe up and down your belly, his lips pressing soft kisses to your sweat-damp temple. 

"Why do I ever leave?," he murmurs roughly. "I hate being away from you and the kids. Felt like I left a piece of myself behind." He pauses. "This is my favorite part of coming home. Having you in my arms again."

Emotion clogs your throat. "I wish it could always be like this." You look up at him, tracing his bearded jaw tenderly. "That you didn't have to leave so often."

"About that..." Elvis' arms tighten around you. "I've been thinking a lot lately. Y'know, about the stuff that really matters to me. And that's you and the kids. I'm gonna talk to Parker, see about cutting back on some of these long stretches away."

Your heart soars even as you search his face cautiously. "You mean it? You'd do that?"

"For you, mama? Anything." He seals his promise with a slow, sweet kiss. "I'm here now. and I aim to be here a lot more."

Tears prick your eyes, joy and relief overwhelming. "I'd love that," you whisper, lacing your fingers with his. "The kids would too."

“Yeah, me too,” he sighs. “Feels like I lose a little piece of me every time I’m gone.”

You nuzzle into his neck, relishing the prickle of his beard on your well-loved skin. "Looks like you found a new piece while you were gone," you tease. "I must say, I'm a fan."

"You really like it?" Elvis sweeps a hand over his scruffy jaw, grinning. "Maybe I'll keep it. Hey, if it gets you this hot for me, I may never shave again."

You just laugh, pulling him down for a long, slow kiss. You’d had a feeling that this stint away had made him rethink his priorities, and that maybe you’d be seeing a lot more of him— beard and all—in the coming months. 

And as you snuggle down into your husband's embrace, his contented rumble vibrating through you, you decide there was nowhere on earth you’d rather be than right here, wrapped up in his arms. Beard burn and all.

Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit  @ellie-24  @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain  @be-my-ally  @vintageshanny  @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957 @atleastpleasetelephone

[writingforstraykids]

Loved the Chan Milan fic! What about a male reader version with him fucking Chan's brain out instead?

Right here with you, always - m!reader version

Pairing: Chan x male!Reader

Word Count: 2282

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, sub!chan, mirror sex (partly)

A/N: Hope you like it, lovey. Framwork is the same, smut is changed ofc🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

fem!version here

The cobblestone streets of Milan seemed to sparkle under the golden hues of the early evening sun as you and Chan made your way through the city. Milan was pulsing with life, its vibrant energy matching the excitement in your heart. Chan had invited you to join him on this glamorous outing, blending the worlds of high fashion and intimate togetherness.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, admiration blooming inside you. He was dressed in a blue shirt that highlighted the warmth of his eyes and complemented his dark hair. Chan suggested dinner at a small, elegant restaurant known for its secluded ambiance and exquisite Italian cuisine. Over plates of creamy risotto and perfectly aged wine, you shared stories and dreams, his laughter blending harmoniously with the soft notes of a violin playing somewhere in the background.

As the sky deepened into a velvety blue, Chan took your hand, leading you out into the enchanting night. Milan at night was a different kind of beautiful; the lights of the city reflected in the gentle ripple of the canals, the air filled with the subtle aroma of blooming jasmine. Walking through this cityscape with Chan, you felt as if you were part of a living canvas, every step painting a stroke of memories in your shared story.

Eventually, the night led you to his hotel, a place of refined elegance. Inside, the world quieted down to just the two of you. You guided Chan to the sofa in his suite, a soft, inviting piece that seemed to echo the plush luxury of your surroundings. As you settled into the comfort of the sofa, you pulled him gently into your lap, a smile playing on your lips.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lay beneath his soft shirt. “This blue shirt… it’s perfect on you. It makes your eyes look like chocolate; deep and endlessly sweet.” At first, he blushed, a shy smile curving his lips as his gaze flickered away. It wasn't often that he heard such open adoration, even from you, his partner. Yet, the honesty in your voice and the warmth in your eyes encouraged him to accept your compliments. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, your own confidence growing with the realization of how much he needed you in this moment.

“I love seeing you like this,” you murmured, your voice a soft rumble against his ear. Your hands were gentle but firm on his back, making every nerve in his body sing with a pleasant tension. The room around you seemed to fade, the sounds of Milan's nightlife a distant echo to the intimacy that unfolded between the two of you. “Love how handsome you look,” you told him, hands fondling up his thighs. “Love how your body always searches mine,” you confessed, biting back a soft groan as he pressed down against you.

Your lips met his in a fierce kiss, hand shooting up into his hair. Chan kissed back eagerly, grinding down against you with soft, needy sounds. Your grip on his hair tightened, your hips chasing his with a low groan.

As the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the gentle yet insistent passion between you, the world outside seemed to vanish completely. Your hands moved with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the growing intensity of the moment. You were skilled, knowing exactly how to make him feel cherished and desired all at once.

Chan quickly got up, getting rid of his trousers and boxers in one go. After checking in with you, his shirt joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, and he stood bare before you. You lifted your hips, shuffling your pants down enough to free your aching length. Your hands found his hips, and you pulled him back into your lap, smiling at how thrilled Chan seemed. You made quick work of preparing him, stretching him out with your fingers and kissing down his neck hungrily. Chan sunk down on you soon, moaning out loudly as you stretched his fluttering walls just right.

Chan's hands found purchase on your shoulders, steadying himself as he began to move. His head tipped back, exposing the graceful line of his neck, his eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss. You held him closely, guiding him with a gentle yet insistent rhythm. The soft sounds of his pleasure mixed with the distant hum of the city night created a symphony of intimacy.

"You feel so amazing," you whispered, your voice husky with desire. You increased the pace, each thrust meeting him with a perfect alignment that sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies.

Chan's response was to grip your shoulders tighter, his nails digging in slightly as the intensity built. His moans grew louder, more urgent, and he began to meet your movements with equal fervor. The connection between you deepened, a tangible thread of desire that pulled you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

In the mirror at the closet opposite the sofa, you could see your reflections entwined in a passionate dance. Chan's body was a perfect contrast against your own. His skin was bathed in the soft light that filtered through the windows, highlighting his features in a glow that seemed almost ethereal. The sight of your dick disappearing inside him made you moan loud enough to catch his attention. "Look at us," you urged him, wanting him to see the beauty of the moment as you saw it. Reluctantly, Chan opened his eyes, and his gaze met the mirror behind the sofa, seeing the reflection from the mirror across the room. The sight of the two of you, so closely connected, so lost in each other, brought a new flush to his cheeks, but his eyes shone with an emotion that was deep and raw.

"Fuck," Chan breathed out, his voice catching as your movements brought him higher. “Need more, please,” he whined, needily moving his hips. “Go rough on me, please.”

Your heart pounded with desire at his plea, and you responded by increasing the intensity of your movements. Chan's moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of his pleasure. When his moans reached a fever pitch, you decided to change positions. Gently, you lifted him off your lap, only to flip him around, settling him back onto you so he was facing the mirror on the closet. The new angle made him gasp, his eyes widening as he saw the full reflection of his own pleasure. 

You wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him, your other hand coming up to cover his mouth, muffling his loud moans. "Shh," you whispered in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. "We don't want everyone to hear us."

The sensation of being silenced, coupled with the sight of himself in the mirror, seemed to drive Chan wild. His eyes locked onto yours in the reflection, his pupils dilated with lust. He started moving again, his hips grinding against you with a desperate urgency.

"Look at how beautiful you are," you murmured against his ear, your voice a low growl. "Look at how perfect we are together."

Chan's muffled moans vibrated against your palm, his body shivering with the intensity of the sensations. You kept your rhythm steady; each thrust hitting deeper, more precise, driving both of you closer to the edge. 

Your eyes never left the mirror, watching the way Chan's body responded to your every move. The sight of him, completely undone, his face flushed and eyes filled with raw desire, spurred you on. "You're mine, Chan," you growled, your grip on his waist tightening. "Only mine."

He nodded, his eyes rolling back slightly as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. His body trembled, his muscles tightening around you in a way that sent shivers up your spine. You could feel your own release building, the tension coiling tighter with each thrust.

You thrust harder, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. The mirror reflected the raw intimacy of the moment, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, the connection between you palpable and undeniable.

Chan's eyes were locked onto the mirror, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The sight of you behind him, your hands steady and confident, was overwhelming. His skin was flushed, his lips parted, and the tension in his body was electric. You could see every muscle in his back tense with each thrust, the sight of your reflection in the mirror making the moment even more intense.

"Fuck, Y/n," Chan managed to moan through your hand, his voice barely audible but full of raw emotion. The sight of his flushed face, the way his body moved with yours, was almost too much to handle. You could see the ecstasy building in his eyes, the need, the desire, everything laid bare in the reflection.

"You're close, aren't you?" you whispered in his ear, your voice thick with lust. "I can feel it, Chan. Show me how much you need this."

With another hard thrust, Chan's body tensed, his eyes rolling back as he almost reached the peak of his pleasure. His muffled moans were drowned out by your hand, his body shaking with every wave of ecstasy. You could feel the tightening of his walls around you, the warmth of his climax making you lose control as well.

With a final, powerful thrust, you buried yourself deep inside him, your release hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Chan's muffled cries of pleasure filled the room, his body convulsing as he followed you over the edge. 

You held him close, both of you riding out the aftershocks of your climax. Slowly, you removed your hand from his mouth, pressing soft kisses along his neck and shoulder. "You did so well," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "So beautiful, so perfect."

Chan turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. "You’re amazing.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. "With you, it’s always perfect," you replied, your hands gently caressing his sides.

The world outside the hotel room was a distant memory, the night in Milan a backdrop to the profound connection you shared with Chan. As he lay in your arms, the city lights twinkling outside the window, you knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always bring you back to each other.

-

Later, after you had both cleaned up and settled into the luxurious bed, the quiet intimacy continued to envelop you. Chan's gentle touches and soft murmurs of affection filled the space between you, making even the simplest moments feel special.

"Do you remember our first trip together?" Chan asked, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness.

You smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Of course I do. How could I forget? It was magical."

"It was," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "But this... tonight... it's even better."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we're here together," he replied simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because every moment with you is better than the last."

Your heart swelled with love for him, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. "I feel the same way," you whispered against his lips. "Every moment with you is a gift."

As he drifted off to sleep in your arms, he knew that no matter what challenges or adventures lay ahead, you would face them together, your love growing stronger with each passing day.

-

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke up to the feeling of Chan’s fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, his touch a comforting presence.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, turning to face him. His eyes were warm and filled with love, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Chan leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Perfectly,” you said, your heart swelling with happiness. “How about you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted, his smile widening. “Being with you always makes everything better.”

You snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful morning. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As the morning progressed, you both took your time getting ready, enjoying the relaxed pace of the day. The streets of Milan called to you, promising new adventures and memories to be made. But no matter what the day held, you knew that the connection you shared with Chan would remain the most beautiful part of your journey together.

-

Walking through the bustling streets of Milan once more, hand in hand with Chan, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and happiness you had found. The city seemed to sparkle with the promise of new experiences, each moment adding to the rich tapestry of your shared life.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same joy that filled your heart. “Ready for another day of adventures?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling up at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”

And with that, you both stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that together, you could conquer the world.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @james-is-here @queer-possum

[littlest-w01f]

Night Skies

Cassian x Reader

For @cassianappreciationweek

Cassian week 2024 Masterlist

Day 1: Flying

Summary: Cassian takes reader flying for their date

Cw: Cute fluff

Velaris had a blanket of dark night over it, light only provided by the moon and the many stars, you stood outside your home in a pair of simple cropped top and pants, a little makeup on your face and your hair braided tightly.

You waited for Cassian to take you for this date he had planned, your mate that you had met a month ago, he had asked you to wear something simple paired with pants, he was pretty instant on the pants, since he didn't want you flashing anyone while he took you flying. You shuddered at the thought, of how he would take you soaring through the night sky, the wind on your face that you would feel.

"Oh, I could never get tired of looking at you, y/n..." Cassian whispered and you looked up to see him flying above you, his large Illyrian wings beating against the air.

You looked up, marvelling at him as he landed in front of you, wrapping his arms around your hips, "Ready, my dear?" He asked gently, his lips barely brushing yours.

Cassian pulled you close, wrapping you in his strong arms and tilting his head slightly for your lips to meet perfectly.

"Always," you whispered back, your heart fluttering like a butterfly within your chest. The soft blush that dusted across your cheeks was a stark contrast to the fierce resolve in your gaze.

You stood there amidst the colourful faerie lights, a world seemingly designed solely for you, lost in each other’s embrace.

With a tender smile gracing your delicate features, you lifted yourself onto your toes to reach out and trace your fingers along his muscular jawline. "Just remember…" You began, her voice low yet filled with love, "…If you drop me, I'll kill you."

Cassian chuckled deeply, his rich laughter echoing through the streets of Velaris. His eyes twinkled with mischief and adoration as he gazed down at you. "Oh, love, you're always full of surprises. But don't worry, I've got you."

His hands moved from your waist to cradle your face, thumbs caressing the soft skin beneath your eyes. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, catching it ever so slightly before pulling away.

"I would never dream of dropping you," He murmured, his voice a velvet promise. "You are my anchor, my heart, my everything."

With that, he leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a kiss that spoke volumes of his devotion and affection. It was a slow dance of tongues and teeth, a passionate exchange of breaths and heat.

"You're so romantic," You whisper as you break away from the intimate kiss, "I can't believe I agreed to let you fly me..."

Cassian smiled, taking your arms to wrap your arms around his neck tighter, "Just hold tight," He pressed a kiss to your nose, "And if you fall, I'll catch you."

"You make it sound so simple," You responded, unable to hide the playful grin on your lips as you intertwined your fingers behind Cassian's neck.

But there was truth in his words, and it felt easy, comfortable even, when it came to being with him. The trust between the two of you had grown naturally over time, so fast it had made your head spin.

With one last loving squeeze of your body against his own muscled frame, Cassian held you bridal style, laughing as you buried your face in his neck as he lifted off once more into the velvety blackness of the night sky.

The cool air rushed past them as they soared higher, their surroundings lit by the soft flickers of magical faerie lights weaving intricate patterns through the streets that got smaller.

Your breath caught in your throat at the thrill of it all as you removed your head from his neck, looking at the sky, the speed, the heights, and most importantly, feeling safe in Cassian's capable grip.

The wind whipped through your hair, sending the strands cascading around your shoulders in wild disarray. Your heart pounded fiercely in your chest, not from fear but from exhilaration.

"You look stunning up here, under the stars," Cassian said, his voice a low rumble of contentment. "Like a queen amongst the heavens."

He tilted his head slightly, guiding you to follow his line of sight. There were constellations, so close to you that you felt you could touch them by reaching out. They danced across the expanse of the night sky, casting their ethereal glow upon your faces.

"We should come up here more often," He suggested, though the statement sounded less like a suggestion and more like a promise. "I always like to come here, see the stars up close."

As they continued to soar through the endless night, Cassian held you closer, the sensation of freedom coursing through both of your veins.

"I love it too," You replied, leaning your head against his shoulder. "It's peaceful, beautiful…and it reminds me of you." You sighed, a soft shiver passing through you at the winds of his speed.

The words slipped from your lips without thought, a confession born from the depth of your feelings for this man who held your life in his hands. And yet, it didn't feel heavy or laden with expectation. Instead, it was light, almost buoyant, as if carried on the same breeze that ruffled your hair.

"You remind me of the stars, Cassian," You added softly, tracing lazy circles on his chest with your fingertips. "Each one is unique, beautiful, and shines brighter than any other."

A smile touched the corners of Cassian's lips, the pride in his voice palpable as he heard your comparison. He moves you to wrap your legs around his waist, holding you by your hips as your hands trace his forearms, "Then it seems we match perfectly," He murmured, his tone warm and rich like molten gold. His eyes were gentle as he held you mid-air.

Your shared heartbeat and laboured breathing provide the only rhythm to their flight. Your chest pushed against his, squealing softly as he leaned down to exhale softly, face pressed between your breasts.

"You're my sun, my moon, my universe," He whispered, a hint of raw emotion threading through his words. "And I am so glad I get to share flying with you. Being with you here... It's so much special than just being out here alone, even if I love it."

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his words, the warmth spreading throughout your body. "Thank you," You whispered, nuzzling your face into his neck. "For sharing this moment with me. For showing me how beautiful it is up here. I love it."

The silence stretched between them then, broken only by the occasional rustle of your clothing in the wind and the steady beat of Cassian's wings. They flew on, high above the city of Velaris, bathed in the soft glow of the faerie lights and the warmth of each other's presence.

"I love you," Cassian kissed your cheeks, then your chin, followed by your lips, "More than anything."

"Good," You teased, your eyes sparkling with mirth and affection. "Because I'm pretty sure I love you more than all the stars in the world."

The comment earned a hearty chuckle from Cassian, his chest vibrating against yours. "Well, that's saying something," He admitted, his voice a mix of amusement and genuine fondness.

They flew on, circling the highest spires of the city, the wind tugging at their clothes and whipping their hair into wild abandon. Below them, Velaris looked like a painting come alive, glowing with ethereal light, its streets alive with people.

It was breathtaking, this view of their beloved city from such a height, but it was nothing compared to the beauty of having Cassian beside you, sharing this incredible moment.

You grip onto Cassian harder, excitement in all your yelps as he dipped and pulled up while flying.

Cassian laughed, the sound rich and full as he banked sharply, causing the world below to tilt precariously before righting itself again. He loved seeing you like this, carefree and joyful, your laughter echoing in the vast expanse of the night sky.

"Easy now," He teased, though there was no real threat in their altitude. He could keep you safe, keep you secure, no matter what happened. That was a promise he would never break.

Your hands tightened on his arms, nails digging gently into the skin of his biceps, but it was a sensation he welcomed. It meant you were truly present, truly experiencing this magic-filled moment with him.

As the city below faded into a blur of colour and light, Cassian found himself smiling. You, this woman, this vibrant, passionate, intelligent woman, was his. You were his. And he was yours

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[kathiraven]

Once upon a time, in the bustling streets of Mumbai, India, there were two strapping lads named Ravi and Rajiv. Both were as tough as nails and had muscles that could rival any bodybuilder. They were the kings of their high school, feared by all and admired by many. But alas, they were not content with just being the best; they sought to rule over all they surveyed, including the nerdy lot that they despised.Ravi and Rajiv strut across the stage, flexing their muscles and tossing their hair. Their days were spent lifting weights, flirting with the pretty cheerleaders, and making fun of the poor unfortunate souls who dared cross their path.

As the scene shifts from the bustling streets of Mumbai to the open seas, Ravi and Rajiv find themselves aboard a pirate ship, their bodies morphing into swarthy sailors. Ah, but fate had other plans for these once proud jocks. One fateful night, while out on a joyride, their car broke down on an old abandoned bridge. Little did they know, this was no ordinary bridge but a portal to another world - a world of pirates and plunder! Suddenly, the boys are surrounded by towering figures clad in rags and wearing eye patches. The captain of the ship steps forward, his voice deep and gravelly. "Welcome to our realm", he growls, "You shall now be known as Captain Ravi and First Mate Rajiv"

As the waves crash against the hull of the ship, the transformation continues. The once-muscular frames of Ravi and Rajiv soften, their features becoming more delicate and feminine. Their clothing morphs into tight-fitting pirate outfits, accentuating their new curves.Captain Ravi and First Mate Rajiv gasp in surprise as they feel their bodies changing. They look at each other, eyes wide with confusion and fear. But then, something strange happens. A warm tingling sensation spreads through their bodies, and suddenly, they're attracted to one another in ways they never thought possible.Their hearts pound in their chests as they realize what has happened – they've been transformed into gay pirates!.

As the sun sets over the horizon, casting an orange glow over the ocean, Captain Ravi and First Mate Rajiv find themselves drawn together despite their initial discomfort.Captain Ravi takes a step closer to First Mate Rajiv, his heart pounding in his chest. He reaches out tentatively, placing a hand on Rajiv's shoulder. The touch sends a shiver down both their spines, and before either of them knows what's happening, they're kissing passionately under the starlit sky.They break apart moments later, panting heavily as they try to comprehend what just happened. But there's no denying the heat between them, nor the way their bodies fit together so perfectly. It seems that even in this strange new world, some things remain constant… like the undeniable attraction between two men who were once fierce rivals but are now falling head over heels for each other.

Rajiv whispers back, "This…this is crazy but I don’t want it to stop". His breath hitches when he feels Captain Ravi's fingers tracing along the length of his throbbing member.Captain Ravi bites his lip, struggling to hold back a moan as he feels First Mate Rajiv's hard cock rubbing against his own. He looks into First Mate Rajiv's eyes and says huskily, "Then let's not stop".

[nightsadness]

Could you write about Smoke x female reader sharing their first kiss in the rain?

Word: 542

It had been raining like a bucket since morning, but the weather itself had been warm all day, or rather hot, so the cool raindrops that dripped down your body as you stood on the balcony only made your body feel blissful, which you didn't have time to fully enjoy because you were interrupted by Smoke.

— Aren't you cold? You're soaked to the skin! — Tomas came up to you and put his strong hands on your shoulders — I think you should go inside — his tone was concerned, while his frown was directed in your direction.

— I assure you, I'm perfectly fine — You, in turn, turned your head toward him and smiled slightly. Neither of you said anything else, but Smoke continued to stand beside you, on the damp, wooden floor of the balcony.

But in a moment Smoke rested his head on your shoulder

— you'll get sick if you don't come inside now, and I'm soaking wet myself, — Tomas grinned.

— Ha! Because of me?! — You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest — Please note that you're standing here with me, I didn't drag you here — You said with a serious face, even though you knew the man was probably just trying to tease you.

— Fair enough, but if you're going to get sick, you're not going to be the only one — A wide grin spread across his face as he took his head off your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to his muscular body as if trying to shield you from the downpour

Very interesting, — you said, closing your eyes and smiling, — what makes you I'm going to get sick at all? Since when did you become a psychic, Tomas? — You flicked him lightly on the nose in a playful manner, turning half sideways as he continued to hold you, making the wet fabric of your clothes stick even more to your body where the man's hands were.

— Huh...I wish I was, but..... — Smoke's tone turned serious and he looked into your eyes — I'm just worried.

His gaze sent a wave of electricity through you, and you didn't say anything, but gradually your eyes traveled down to his lips, the atmosphere and the desire to kiss him pushing you fiercely, and you slowly began to bring your face closer to his, Smoke did the same, closing his eyes as his face came closer. He gently pushed back a strand of your hair, making your heart race. His gaze flashed with a tenderness that was uncharacteristic of him, always so serious and unyielding, and you couldn't help yourself, and you were the first to close your lips in a kiss that wasn't passionate and intense, but on the contrary, it was gentle and slow. You didn't notice the frost stinging your skin, nor the heavy rain that threw cool water in your face, for it was warmer than ever. You touched your hands to his hair, and Smoke pulled you tight against him. For him, your lips were sweeter than honey, and the flavor was intoxicating, plunging him into a state of unearthly happiness and sweet euphoria....

night, sadness ©2024