#see me. embrace me. tell me your eyes lingered if only for one word; one page

[beloveds-embrace]

https://www.tumblr.com/beloveds-embrace/769747896273862656/im-sorry-did-you-say-neglected-omega?source=share

You can't just drop that bomb on us. I feels like I should sue u for emotional damage

I very kindly request some fluff with this 🙏🙏

Can i be 🦋 anon? Pretty pretty please

if i got sued for emotional damage each time I fear i’d have to declare bankruptcy 😭 but ne ways, here you go 🦋 anon! <3

The room still smells faintly of a sour, lonely heat, even weeks later. No matter how many times Gaz scrubs the floors or Price washes the sheets (when you are not there yourself, with your own permission because for all that you wanted to just… keep them away, you had no strength or will to clean the room. That was the only inch you were willing to give), the scent lingers- a sharp reminder of everything they let happen.

Everything they let you go through alone.

They’re careful around you now. Slow. Quiet. Desperate not to spook you, not to push you any further away than they already have. But the distance is unbearable. It feels like walking on glass, and no matter how hard they try to reach you, you stay just out of reach.

So they simply try harder.

Price leaves things outside your door- practical, thoughtful things. Your favorite snacks, warm socks, a thermos of tea that stays hot for hours. Quiet gestures that let you know he’s paying attention. Sometimes he sits outside your room, low voice rumbling through the wood as he tells you about his day. Nothing important, just pieces of himself- things he’s never given anyone else.

Soap is softer, but more desperate.

He leaves drawings, slips them under your door like little apologies. Sketches of you smiling, of the pack piled together, happy and whole. There’s always a note attached.

I’m sorry, bonnie.

Please let me fix this.

And then one day, he spots one of them taped to your wall.

It’s small, but it’s something. It’s enough to lighten his heart just a little, giving him a sliver of hope.

Gaz doesn’t say much, but he does.

He cooks for you, warm homemade meals left outside your door. He waits, heart twisting every time the plate is left untouched. But then one morning, the food is gone, and he has to duck into an empty room so no one sees his reaction. He’d been so stressed seeing you thinner than he remembered, not eating as much as you should’ve, but he feels so, so much better when the plates he leaves you are cleared- eaten, and not just picked at.

Ghost doesn’t know how to fix this with words, so he doesn’t try. .

Instead, he sharpens your knives. Fixes the drafty window. Reinforces your bedframe even if all he wants is for you to return to them, to their nest. Leaves a scarf that smells like him. Little things, pieces of himself, pieces of his devotion.

Because even if you never let him close again, he needs you to know

He’s not leaving. He almost doubts himself, lets his fears cloud his judgement, until he sees the scarf around your neck one day.

It’s slow. God, it’s so slow, but they persist and don’t give up. Never even consider it for one precious second, not when it’s you they could lose.

But one night, Price finds you in the kitchen wearing his jacket.

You freeze when you see him, and for a second, he thinks you’ll run.

You stay.

“…It’s late.” You whisper, shuffling your feet. He smells your hesitance, your worries and fears, and hopes the distance he keeps soothes you. The thought of you feeling like that because of him… it leaves the taste of ash coating his throat.

“So it is.”

And yet, you don’t leave. You don’t push him away, or pull back when he slowly walks closer towards you. You just look at him, eyes tired and sad and-

It’s not forgiveness, when you let him gently caress the back of his hand against your cheeks.

But it’s a start.

[rusquared]

the story doesn't care that your heart got broken yesterday, or that you nicked your thumb while chopping the onions today. it doesn't care for the medals you received in 5th grade and it doesn't care for the raise that you keep trying for. the story just asks to be read, and you are its most beloved being for the fact of having read it.

[h0neylevi]

“Shit shit shit shit shit—“

The sound of your hurried footsteps follow the string of curses as they travel like an echo down the hall, but Levi doesn’t so much as look up from the kitchen sink.

He had tried to get you up earlier, tempting you with the promise of freshly brewed coffee and a hot breakfast, but you insisted on five more minutes. Then inevitably, five more turned into ten which turned into fifteen, and now you’re rushing to get ready and out the door on time for work.

Now he’s had to improvise–turning your breakfast into something portable you can eat on the drive. It’s a skill he’s had to perfect over the years of living with you. To say that time management wasn’t your strong suit would be an understatement. So, Levi moves on to packing your lunch, listening with a small grin at the sound of the tap of your toothbrush against the bathroom sink, followed by clothes hangers being slid back and forth in the closet as you rush to find something suitable to wear to work.

“Have you seen my black turtleneck?”

“In the dryer.”

He schools his expression into something more mild when you finally round the corner a few minutes later, knowing that you’re already stressed about being late. Smiling at you in an I told you so kind of way would only sour your mood further.

“I slept right through my alarm,” you say.

All five of them, plus his gentle prodding to get you out of bed. He doubts you were even conscious enough to remember him trying.

Your eyes flit to the coffee pot to find a travel mug already filled and waiting for you, right next to a neatly assembled wrap that you can only guess is your breakfast. Your expression visibly softens at the sweet gesture.

“Your lunch is packed too,” Levi says, motioning to the insulated lunch bag sitting on the opposite counter.

Even though you’re pressed for time, you step forward to embrace him.

“Thank you, Levi,” you say into his shirt. “You’re a lifesaver.”

His arms wrap easily around you, but there’s lighthearted reproach in his words when he says, “You say that like I don’t have to do this every other day.”

“Well, if you hadn’t kept me up so late last night, I wouldn’t be rushing.”

He shoves you away then, not forceful enough to indicate you’ve said anything to upset him, but you can tell that the mention of the night before has provoked him by the subtle shade of pink that spreads across his cheeks.

He clicks his tongue. “Pervert.”

You lean back a little, still lightly clinging to his waist with a grin. “You’re weren’t saying that last night when my lips were wrapped around your—“

Levi’s palm claps over your mouth before you can finish your sentence, but it does very little to muffle the sound of your laughter that follows.

He leans into you a little, his other hand anchored to your waist to keep you close. “You’re going to be late.”

Deciding he’s endured enough for one morning, you pull away and go to gather your breakfast. “Yeah, yeah.”

You carry it into the next room and Levi quietly follows, your lunch bag in one hand and travel mug in the other.

“I’ll stop by the store tonight,” you say as you gather your coat by the door. “I saw this really good recipe last night that I’d like to try for dinner.”

Levi simply nods. Dinners are usually your preferred meal to cook, so he’s not surprised you already have something planned. “Sure.”

When you get your coat on, he hands you your things, then finishes off with a quick kiss.

After years spent co-existing together in your apartment—sharing everything from body wash to toothpaste and clothes—you would think that having his lips on yours wouldn’t still elicit such a strong feeling, but it does. It’s a wild and frenzied sensation, forming in the pit of your stomach before it swoops like a flurry up into your ribcage.

You linger by the door, starting to regret not getting up earlier so you could see him a little longer. “Thank you for getting my things ready.”

Levi nods again. “You’re welcome.”

When he leans against the doorframe, you take the moment to press another kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

A mixture of minty toothpaste and the familiar scent of your perfume swirls in the few inches between your bodies, and Levi has to take considerable effort to not lean in again.

“You’re going to be late,” he reminds you for what feels like the nth time.

But despite that, your feet stay planted in the doorway. “Say it back and I’ll go.”

“I love you too.” He rolls his eyes, but relents just the slightest bit and kisses you again. “Now, go.”

[thewickedjazzy]

Level 2: Slow Burn [Shotgunning] for Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩Chuuya Nakahara x afab! Reader

Synopsis : sweet chuu has been secretly dying to try shotgunning with you, and tonight, the ginger finally snaps—ensuring you a good time.

Warnings: nsfw mdni, soft!chuuya, obv. shotgunning/sharing smoke, oral sex (giving and receiving), pussy drunk!chuuya, cum eating, suggestive themes, smoking, light bdsm (blindfold), sensual touches, consent.

Word count: 2.5k

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

it was one of your usual quiet evenings, wrapped in the warm glow of a flickering candle on the table. you sit comfortably, your legs tucked beneath you as you thumb through the pages of your favourite book, utterly absorbed. a glass of red wine sits within arm’s reach, half-full, forgotten for now as you sink deeper into the story.

across from you, your boyfriend sits with a poetry book in his lap. he’s been reading—or at least pretending to.

of course, you notice he hasn’t turned a page in a while. you glance up, catching his eyes on you—no, not just on you, but on your lips. he quickly looks away, pretending to read, but the corner of your mouth twitches into a smile. you’ve seen that look before. he’s been distracted for days, something swirling behind those deep, pretty azure eyes of his, but he hasn’t voiced it yet.

you shift slightly, the sound of fabric rustling pulling his eyes back to you. when you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table and slide one between your lips, it’s the last straw. he watches, almost in a trance, as you strike the lighter. the flame flickers briefly before the tip of the cigarette burns red, and you take a slow drag. the way your delicious lips cradle the slim cigarette, the lazy curl of smoke that escapes your mouth, clings to your lips like the embrace of shadowy lovers—he tries to shift his attention to the book on his lap but can’t take it anymore.

“baby, what’s up? i know when you’re too lost, thinking about something,” you say softly, pulling him from his thoughts. he looks up, and this time, he doesn’t bother hiding the way his gaze lingers on your lips, watching the way the smoke dances around them.

he sighs, setting his book aside and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “doll... there’s something i’ve been wanting to try with you,” he murmurs, his voice so beautifully soft. “but i... wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

you smile, intrigued, of course. it's not like every day you see chuuya this reluctant. it isn’t like him to be shy about anything with you, but the subtle blush colouring his cheeks and the way he murmurs "doll" sends a shiver throughout your entire body, making your heart lowkey skip a beat. “mhm? tell me,” you coax softly, the cigarette balanced delicately between your fingers as you take another slow drag, eyes never leaving his.

he hesitates for just a moment longer, eyes locked on your lips. “have ya ever heard of...uh.. shotgunning?”

your smile widens, heart fluttering at the way he bites his lip and looks away, his pale features now painted a deep red hue. chuuya is so often confident, but in moments like this, he shows a softer side only you are allowed to see. “i've heard of it... why? you... wanna try it?” you purr softly, leaning forward.

he gives a slow nod, and you notice his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “yeah... but only if you're comfortable with it.”

you chuckle softly, finding his bashfulness endearing. “chuu, baby” you say, warmth lacing your words as you put out the cigarette. “you know that i trust you.”

“good, then... trust me on this.” he stands and heads to the bedroom, disappearing for a moment before returning with a silk burgundy blindfold in hand. settling back down across from you on the couch, he meets your gaze with underlying excitement, shimmering in his azure eyes, the blindfold draped loosely between his fingers.

your breath catches slightly as you see the blindfold, excitement curling in your belly. he’s never done something like this before, but you’re already intrigued. “what are you planning, chuu?” you giggle softly.

he leans in close, his breath brushing against your lips. “i want you to feel everything... without sight. let me take the lead, doll. i promise you’ll like it.”

your pulse quickens as you nod, lips parting slightly in anticipation.

his bare, slender fingers graze your cheek as he carefully ties the blindfold around your eyes. the world around you fades to darkness, heightening your other senses, god, you never thought something like this could feel this good. the way you can hear his soft breathing, the rustle of his clothes, and definitely feel the heat radiating off him as he inches closer—it’s like multiplying bliss by infinity and getting bonus points for it.

“relax f’me, baby,” his raspy low voice makes your heart skip a beat. you take a deep breath, your body already responding to his soothing tone.

you feel the soft brush of his lips against your temple, the barest touch of his fingers on your jaw as he tilts your chin up slightly. “yeahh.. you look s'pretty like this, doll,” he murmurs, his words wrapping around you like a caress. “just focus on me, yeah?”

you nod again, and you can hear the faint click of his lighter as he takes a drag from his cigarette. the next moment, his hand is back on your jaw, guiding you closer to him.

“breathe with me, doll” he whispers against your lips.

you part your lips, waiting for the sensation. and then, it hits you as he exhales, the hot smoke flowing from his mouth to yours. the warmth of his breath, the taste of the smoke and the closeness of his body—it’s all so intoxicating, so overwhelming. you inhale deeply, taking in the smoke and the sensation of his lips hovering so close to yours, but not even touching, it's quite torturous in a good way.

you can barely stand it—the taste of him mingles with the smoke, the sweet faint smell of his perfume, the closeness, the way his fingers trace the line of your cheekbone—it’s all too much, in the best possible way. your belly tingles with the sensation, every nerve alive under his touch.

“shit… umh,” he curses softly against your lips, his warm breath grazing your lower lip as he exhales, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. he closes his eyes for a moment, savouring the feel of you. he's on cloud nine, his mind short-circuiting from the way you trust him so completely, surrendering every inch of yourself to him—it’s too much. “i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

you let out a breathless chuckle, your breath shaky as you brush your lips against his, barely touching but enough to make his cock harden beneath his boxers. “then don’t stop,” you breathe, your words almost lost in the quiet of the room—he doesn't need to be told twice.

he takes another slow drag, this time letting the smoke linger in his lungs before leaning in again. soft pink lips graze yours, just the faintest touch as he exhales into your mouth once more, the smoke curling around your tongue. the gesture, so tender yet so intimate, sends a wave of heat rushing through you. your fingers slip under the choker around his neck, tugging him closer, needing to anchor yourself in the moment.

and just then, you feel his delicious lips finally press against yours, the taste of smoke still lingering on both your tongues. you feel his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you gasp for air.

the cigarette lies forgotten in the ashtray, its smoke fading into the background as you lose yourself in the taste of his lips.

he groans softly as your body presses against his, pulling away, his lips ghosts over your cheek, pressing soft, intimate kisses before trailing down to your jaw and then the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “god... ngh, you’ve got no idea how fucking good you feel...” he murmurs, “...I need you, s'much.”

your fingers tangle in his soft ginger hair, giving a gentle tug, not being able to see makes you even more sensitive to every breathless word he whispers. he pulls back just enough to take in the sight of you, admiring how gorgeous you look with your lips parted, breath coming in soft, needy gasps.

he then stands up, towering over you as you sit obediently on the couch, still blindfolded. the room is silent for a moment, filled only by the sound of your own breathing, until you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle coming undone. the soft clink of metal makes your mouth water, pleasure building with every passing second. you bite your lower lip, licking it delightfully, knowing exactly what's about to come.

you feel the soft pad of his thumb brush against your lower lip. instinctively, you open your mouth, letting him slide it inside. you suck on it seductively, swirling your tongue around his finger, drawing a deep, throaty groan from him.

he pulls his thumb from your mouth slowly, the wetness lingering on your lips as you wait for him impatiently.

the next moment, you feel the weight of his cock pressing against your lips, the soft, swollen tip brushing against them. without hesitation, you open your mouth wider, welcoming him in, and slide your lips down his length. the feeling of his girthy cock filling your mouth, warm and heavy, makes your cunt drip with pleasure. You take him in deeper, swallowing him whole until your lips meet the base of his cock, your throat tightening around him.

“haah..ffuck,” he drawls, his hand moving to the back of your head, gripping your hair gently as he throws his head back, lost in the sensation—no matter how turned on he is, chuuya is always gentle with you. he’s never the type to push your head down—he always makes sure you're comfortable, no matter what.

you feel the way his hips twitch as you take him deeper, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, but the moment he hears you gag, he pulls away, “doll, you okay?”

you nod in response, and immediately take him back into your mouth, allowing him to slide deeper once more.

“haahh, so greedy f’me? mmnnghh”

you hollow your cheeks and move your mouth over him, sucking him with deliberate strokes. the wet sounds blending with his soft whimpers and mewls fill the room as you work him with your mouth. every time you take him in balls-deep, you can feel his cock twitching against your throat. you work your tongue around that sensitive spot just below his tip and precum oozes out, coating your tongue as you savor his taste

“yes fuck nngh, lookin’ ...haah s’fuckin’ pretty like that, baby...ffuckk,” he gasps, bucking his hips forward against your mouth. the sight of you—blindfolded, taking him so greedily—pushes him closer to the edge. his grip on your hair tightens a bit as he fights to maintain control, but the way your tongue swirls around him, the way your mouth swallows him whole has him thinking that he may just cum from feeling your warm mouth around him.

you hum around his cock, sending vibrations through his entire body, and he swears under his breath, his hips picking up the pace slightly. he’s lost in the pleasure, in the sight of you so lecherously sucking him like your life depends on it, and he knows he won’t last much longer like this.

but just as he nears his peak, he pulls out of your mouth, a shaky chuckle escaping his lips as he sees your pouting frustration. “..c’mon baby, i’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs.

removing your blindfold with a tender touch, his eyes eager to drink in the sight of how fucked out you're going to be in a few minutes, “mhm, yes, lemme see those pretty eyes of yours.”

he then kneels in front of you, easing down your soft panties and gently placing your legs over his shoulders as you recline against the couch.

reaching for the cigarette still burning in the ashtray, he takes a slow drag before exhaling the smoke directly onto your gooey cunt.

“hahh- chuu” you mewl, the sensation of the hot smoke against your sensitive skin leaves you breathless, your body frozen in place as you experience one of the most intense pleasures you’ve ever felt.

he takes another drag, letting the smoky haze drift over your swollen lips before putting out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray. he lets out a shaky groan, watching you drip faster than ever, clenching around nothing.

he showers your inner thighs with hot open-mouthed kisses, each kiss eliciting soft, pleading mewls from your glossed lips. “you like that doll? hmm? lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.” he hums against your thighs, totally focused on blowing your mind with ecstasy.

“..yess..s’much mmph”

with a hungry growl, he finally delves into your cunt, kneading your soft thighs as his tongue drags and explores your wet folds opening them only to plunge his hot tongue inside earning a lewd moan from you, he swirls his tongue around your now swollen clit before dragging a flat strip along your inner folds, completely pussydrunk.

deep blue eyes that you grew to adore, never leave yours as he groans against your cunt sending waves of sparks dancing behind your eyes.

your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hands gripping the couch beneath you as you struggle to voice anything except moans and mewls, “y-yes... chuu i'm clo- ahhh mnghh” you gasp, but your voice falters as his tongue alternates between licking your clit in circular motions and diving into your drooling cunt as if stopping would cost him his life.

you roll your hips against his mouth feeling that familiar heat ignite in your belly, sweating from how long he's been eating you out hungrily, you finally reach your peak, gushing all over his tongue as he hums in satisfaction licking up every drop of you with eager licks.

“hnngh fuck..doll... this may be the hottest shit we've ever done,” he drawls, his eyes locked on you as you pant and giggle, trying to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks with your hands. he brushes your hands aside gently and leans in, kissing you passionately once again, tasting yourself on his tongue makes your heart flutter.

“uhh...will you help me out a bit?” he pulls away muttering, your eyes widen as you see how hard he is now, precum glistening at his flushed tip, veins pulsating, apparently he's been edging himself on purpose.

and of course, you’re more than willing to do so. this man never fails to satisfy you, always putting your pleasure above his own. despite his fearsome reputation as a mafia executive, with you, he’s nothing but the sweetest, most tender, and caring boyfriend imaginable.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetfruity @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @alyszuha @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing

[delirious-donna]

The Demon King & His Princess [Sebastian Michaelis]

an: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for months and it’s time I had a clear out. This demon could tell me stories any night he wants…

pairing: Sebastian Michaelis (demon king AU) x female reader (princess)

warnings: nightmares, storytelling turned steamy, fantasy AU, smut, NSFW

Masterlist

The darkness was pure—heavy and suffocating. It wrapped like a noose around your slender throat and squeezed tighter and tighter. You couldn’t draw air, couldn’t struggle from the iron-tight hold.

You jolted upright. Fire burned in your lungs as if you had been suffocating in your sleep and you touched feverishly at your neck but felt nothing amiss. Disorientation made your head spin, eyes scanning back and forth in an attempt to make sense of your surroundings and what had happened.

In bed.

You could feel the mattress beneath your backside and legs, the heavy weight of a rich duvet covered your midriff. That was at least a comfort. If the only one you could find. The beat of your heart ached against your ribs. It hurt to take each shuddering breath as if you had broken the surface of icy waters. The air froze in your chest, and you clutched blindly at the sweat-dampened nightgown in desperation.

Your saviour was not far…

A presence at your side made you jump anew, but soon your shoulders sagged with relief as two familiar hands held you tight. The touch was cool and soothing. You let yourself be drawn into a strong body whilst you continued to tremble like the last autumn leaf.

Slowly, and with the utmost care, you were lowered back to the sheets. Soft-spoken words sounded distant, called over the crashing waves of your fear but as the seconds ticked on, they became clearer.

“Come back to me… can you hear me, little one? You are mine, come back.”

Sebastian.

It was Sebastian who pressed his face into your hair and whispered gentle yet firm words into your ear. It was he who wound his arms around your chest and lodged his body tightly against your back. His warmth chased away the shivering chill from your skin and the even beat of his heart that settled your own into a normal rhythm.

“Sebastian…”

“I’m right here,” he soothed in his low authoritative voice, barely above a whisper. Deft fingers stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Your chin tucked low into your chest, a shy shame washing over you for goodness knows why. A nightmare was out of your control after all, so why try to deny it? Sebastian slid a finger between your chin, bringing your face back up to his. At last, you nodded slowly and averted your eyes.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked.

Whatever had caused such a blinding panic had already mostly melted away, the memories new fleeting and entirely disjointed. In honesty, you couldn’t quite recall the events of the dream, other than remembering the sensation of being choked of breath.

“I… can’t remember. I think I’d rather forget.”

You pressed your eyes shut, snuffing out the lone candle on the nightstand that illuminated the darkness of the bedroom. At heart you wished away the sense of lingering panic that beat just beneath the surface, threatening to surface at the smallest jolt.

The Demon King hummed a faint melody, a tune that seemed reminiscent of one you had heard many years prior.

His long dexterous fingers massaged at your skin through your silky nightdress, the midnight black fingernails a stark contrast against the pure white.

“Shall I tell you a tale? It might help you to… forget.”

In your disarray, you missed the faint trace of heat in his voice. Had you noticed, would your answer have been any different? Not likely. Be that as it may, you accepted his offer regardless and his smile was not merely comforting any longer—not that you could see it with your face tucked into his chest.

With a soft sigh, you rolled back your shoulders to better settle yourself into his protective embrace. The flicker of the candle painted long shadows upon the nearest wall, and you glanced up at your handsome beau without a trace of fear. His hair fell in a black curtain around his face, eyes closed as if at rest–although you knew better–and his smile had returned to docile.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who loved to roam the lands her family ruled over. Her curiosity was mischievous and might have been considered reckless for she often wandered unaccompanied.”

Sebastian spoke in soft dulcet tones, and you wondered where this story was headed. It sounded rather familiar, intimately familiar…

“One day,” he continued, aware of your narrowed eyes aimed in his direction but ignoring it in favour of speaking calmly, slowly. “The princess came upon another person out in the forests near her home.

Yet, to her bewilderment he was not a person, but a Demon. She should have been scared, fearful of a creature she had been warned was wicked with only evil in their heart, but she wasn’t.”

He smiled indulgently. Reminiscing fondly at how brave you had been that day. In honesty, he would call it foolish, but luckily for you, this particular Demon was instantly enamoured with you.

“Instead, the sweet yet naïve princess befriended the Demon and soon they would spend hours traversing the lands with the Demon showing her places she didn’t even know existed. Sharing secrets that his kind would likely condemn him for brazenly putting his trust in the young mortal.”

Butterflies erupted in the depths of your stomach, flitting around in energetic bursts at the memory of those long-ago days. The hours that easily slipped into days, the warm sunshine on your face and the excitement of newly discovered secrets. You would forever be grateful for the trust Sebastian placed into the cradle of your hands, the knowledge he chose to share when you warned it might be frowned upon.

He pressed a kiss to your temple as if he sensed your gratitude. “It wasn’t long before an attraction grew between the pair, and in short, the Demon was besotted by the exquisite beauty of the princess and the purity of her heart and soul. At this realisation, he revealed himself as not simply a Demon, for he was the Demon King. A Demon King in love with a mortal princess.”

You squirmed against his strong body, heat warming your cheeks. Sebastian wouldn’t allow you to turn in his arms, tucking you further into his hold. He planted his hands on the soft curves of your waist whilst he continued to purr his story into your ear.

“Sebastian…”

He shushed you softly, his lips traversing the gentle slope of your shoulder to press a gentle kiss to your sweet-smelling neck. You could feel his smile against your skin, knowing and growing wider when your pulse began to race faster.

“The Demon King rejoiced in the knowledge that his attraction and love were returned in equal measure, and the night he first took her to his bed was a night he would never forget… Not in all his long years of existence had a night so special occurred and might never again.”

You could only moan, the sound long and drawn out when his hands roamed your plush curves. One palm stroked up and down your side until the fairly modest hem of your nightgown was drawn high enough that his fingertips could ghost lazy patterns on your skin.

The other cupped your breasts lightly through the shimmery fabric, his warm breath caressing and causing you to shiver deliciously from his attention. These shivers were different to the ones caused by your earlier nightmare—now long forgotten. They tingled pleasantly and led to a growing wetness between your clenched thighs.

“The princess was supple beneath his touch and reciprocating to his actions. Despite the power he wielded, the Demon was gentle in his exploration. He whispered of the naughty deeds he wished to enact, and of how he desperately wanted to open her up like a blooming flower to bathe in her arousal. When his touch reached her most intimate area, the Demon King had growled aloud, finding her wet and wanting. His restraint tested in a way he hadn’t experienced to date.”

Sebastian’s melodious words mirrored his actions to perfection. A low growl that sounded like distant thunder echoed within his chest, and you gasped—thrilled. One bold finger swiped over the seat of your cotton panties and found how your lust had soaked it through.

Your eyelids fluttered shut, hips undulating eagerly. Waiting… wanting… just like the princess.

You reached out an arm, blindly searching behind and finally sinking your hand into his long lustrous hair. You played with the strands, tugging them impishly until your fingers delved deeper so your nails could scratch against his scalp.

“His cock had throbbed for the princess, straining against his undergarments and desperate to find solace in her tempting heat. Of course, he had to ensure she was properly prepared for such an intrusion,” he whispered, pausing for a moment to tug on your earlobe with his teeth.

His hips drove upwards, making you painfully aware of how hard and ready he was right now, never mind in the story. A dark chuckle floated to your ear; the amusement halted the subtle glide of your lower half, but it was only a moment until he guided your hips back into a slow rhythm against his clothed cock.

“The Demon King had ripped through the princess’s panties to her shrieks of surprise, for surely she had not known the strength of the male she had allowed to touch and taste her virgin body.” You groaned in memory. How nervous you had been, but so very ready, almost desperate.

“Her breasts were perfection, filling his palms exactly. With pebbled nipples so sensitive to the fingers that played with them, rolling the delicate buds between finger and thumb before tasting them in turn. A firm hand supported her spine which she arched to press herself further into his greedy mouth. The suckling sensation made her dizzy and mewl like a cat in heat. He turned her skin sticky and shiny with his spit, biting and nipping at such tender flesh until the princess tugged boldly on his mane of hair.”

Your fingers twitched in mischievous want to fist his silken black hair, to haul his sinful lips to yours and silence the story in favour of creating a new one. “The lovers spent an age exploring their bodies, learning what made them moan and what caused their toes to curl in delight. When it was time to taste her sweetness, the Demon King felt like a youngster again, worried he might come undone before he could take her fully. Never had he seen a pussy so pretty and perfect–made for him alone.”

On these words, Licht finally rolled you to your back and let your lips unite. The yearning between you was palpable, your fingers grasping and clutching at his strong shoulders until you were twisted like ivy around his lithe frame.

The brush of his cock–still concealed behind his pyjama trousers–against your bare slit was electrifying. The ripped cotton from where his finger had pushed through the fabric clung to your slickness, and you did indeed rub on him like a cat in heat.

Sebastian worked his hand between your bodies, spreading your open and smearing the sticky strands of your arousal over your skin until he was toying with your jittering little clit. His mouth was hungry slanted atop yours, devouring and commanding the space you shared.

You weren’t quite the shy little flower he described in the story; experience had strengthened your resolve and bolstered your confidence. Enough so that you sucked his bottom lip between your own, drawing the skin taut before releasing it with an audible pop. He growled low in his throat, admiring your shuttered eyelids and smug little smile.

Gods, how you wanted him, but he broke away, much to your frustration, to continue his story. A slow methodical finger circled your soaked cunt, grinning when you clenched around nothing but air.

“The enamoured Demon softly stroked over the princess’s unsullied silky folds, so pretty and engorged from the pumping blood of her desire. Slick rushed to meet his fingers and he couldn’t resist sucking one into his mouth for a taste. With that, he was addicted. He knew that he would never get enough.”

Sebastian held back a moan as he spoke the words. He could feel the weight of them, the truth that lay behind each syllable. To this day, he wasn’t certain you understood the magnitude of his love. He was a creature who most believed incapable of loving anyone but themselves, but he could find no other way to describe how he felt about you.

“Please…”

Eyes of regal burgundy flashed in the dark room and it shook a breathy whine from your throat. On a slow thrust, two fingers slide inside to stroke your velvet walls. His honeyed voice deepened, one forearm braced directly next to your head whilst a knee spread your legs further apart and his fingers fucked you with strokes that quickened hastily. Sebastian was losing control and that tightened the desire in your belly all the more.

“Mm, that’s it. You’re sucking me in, can you feel that? Such a greedy pussy, you want something other than my fingers, beloved?” he asked with a smirk.

You rolled your neck against the fluffy pillows, sinking deeper and deeper into decadent pleasure. “Mhm, please,” you admitted, biting deep into your bottom lip.

“The Demon King brought the beautiful princess to orgasm using only his mouth and dexterous fingers. Stretching out her tight walls in readiness for his throbbing cock. How he had hissed when she had tentatively touched it, dainty fingers encircling the girth and giving an exploratory pump with her fist.”

As he narrated, you complied with the words and reached down to free him from the confines of his sleepwear. Your thumb swiped through the beads of arousal and used it to coat his shaft.

Sebastian was heavy in your hold, a groan echoing from the depths of his chest. “Do–do you remember how the story ended?” he asked, thrusting into your grip at the same pace he thrust his slick-soaked fingers into your pussy.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you managed, sounding far more composed than you actually felt, “But I’m certain that the devastatingly handsome Demon King–you missed that part out–made love to the princess until the sun broke over the horizon.”

With ease, Sebastian withdrew his fingers and sucked them into his mouth until they were clean. His weeping cockhead notched at your entrance and your hips strained to force him inside.

“Mm, indeed. Let’s reenact that part, shall we?”

His pelvis met yours in one forceful push. Your spine bowed off the mattress when his head dipped to suckle on your pert nipples through the taut satin of your gown.

Your eyes roamed his handsome face, his expression veiled as it often was, but it slipped when your legs wound his lean waist to push him even deeper. The mask dropped to expose the control he was struggling to hold on to. The Demon King was leashed to your hand, a power he had never given to anyone else in his centuries of existence. He was yours as much as you were his.

Sebastian remained true to his word; he worshipped you exactly as he had on your very first time together. Nothing could truly portray what had transpired on that fateful night, the unity and promises made, but it still brought tears to your eyes to be reminded. Your Demon lover stole the air from your lungs, the sanity from your mind and the love from your heart.

From that night forward, you made a conscious effort to ask for more bedtime stories and not only on the occasions you had nightmares.

What wicked words could fall from the prettiest of lips…

[dumbblond3]

BITE ME

Ellabs x reader

CW: minors DNI, dubcon, vampires

They’re the hot older couple you see from across the bar. Abby with her arm resting on the back of the booth they sit in Ellie at her side. The lingering glances they cast make it clear they’re scouting out their next victim.

It didn’t take you long to notice them and god are they your type. Their intimidating presence, the natural dominance they exude. You think it’s too bad they’re together as you imagine what a night between them would be like.

Lucky you they take notice of your shy glances, your disinterest in the others that approach you, and the fact that the friends you came with seem too distracted to notice if you went missing.

Abby approaches you first coming from behind leaning down to introduce herself. You’re caught off guard at first but more than pleased to see her standing there. As she gets your name she brings up Ellie who you learn is her wife Abby tells you they’ve been eyeing you all night.

It isn’t long until Ellie appears at your other side pushing a drink your way, distracting you from the odd aftertaste of whatever she gave you with her sweet ramblings. Something about the way they talk to you is hypnotic their words hold this power, and when Abby’s in your ear saying how beautiful you are whispering that they could just eat you up, you know she means it.

It isn’t until Abby suggests that you take things somewhere more private that you realize how fuzzy your head feels. You struggle to exit the bar and before you understand what’s going on you’re in the back of their car.

Hands are all over you. One of them pulls you into their chest the other pushing the end of your dress up and you can barely manage a whisper to ask them what’s going on. Your worries are hushed with sweet promises of pleasure, saccharine kisses left on your neck followed by words of praise.

Soon you’re stumbling into their apartment failing to take note of its luxury in your drunken state, collapsing onto their fluffy duvet without a second thought.

With a quickness Abby and Ellie are latched onto either side of your neck making sure your mumbles of inexperience are drowned out by moans and whimpers. You end up with your back to Abby’s chest her tongue lapping at your right side as Ellie’s practically on top of you marking your left.

Their treatment becomes increasingly rough as you struggle to keep up mentally with the pleasure they give you as Ellie’s hands go lower their kisses get hungrier, and as you feel her push into you there’s a sharp pain at your neck.

The fogginess in your head grows tenfold as your mind is filled with them, their touch, their scent their teeth. The conscious part of your mind is trying its hardest to snap you out of this trance the realization hitting that they’re biting you.

No longer just scratches of teeth against your collarbone their teeth are deep in your skin as spare drops of crimson drip down your chest it’s far too late for you to do anything but take what they give you.

Ellie finally unlatches from her place in your neck and suddenly you’re reminded of her fingers deep inside you as she begins to move them with fervor.

The pleasure they’re giving you is too much, every sensation takes you further away from the reality of what’s happening, how crazy it is that you’ve ended up between these two.

By now your head is fully lolled onto Abby’s shoulder and you can distantly hear the sounds of her cooing words of encouragement as you’re brought closer and closer to release.

Your moans are getting louder and they know you’re close. Ellie’s forehead is against yours and Abby’s holding you tight to her chest as you cum- harder than you ever have before. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you it’s all too much for you to handle in this state, but even as your world fades you don’t feel fear only comfort in their warm embrace.

AN: thank you for reading, requests are open!!

[laurfilijames]

Pick Me Up

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse. Hair pulling.

Summary: After being apart for over a week due to his obligations to the club, Jax surprises you by picking you up from work and taking you for a ride.

A/N: I wanna ride with Jax on his bike and then get absolutely destroyed by him, okay?

(Reader is not described other than having hair long enough to blow in the wind and be pulled)

---

The word terrible didn’t touch how your week had been so far.

You said goodnight to your coworker who lingered behind, your exhaustion and irritation unable to be hidden from your voice even though it was only a few words, and you slung your bag over your shoulder as your heavy feet carried you down the hallway and out the back door.

The sun was still hot, and you paused and closed your eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath as you let its warmth shine on you, having arrived at work before it had even risen and not stepped foot outside the building all day.

It felt rejuvenating, and you felt the tension in your neck and shoulders fall away as you reopened your eyes and took a step forward again, walking around the corner to where your car was parked while wondering if you should treat yourself to some take out for dinner tonight. Then you remembered the chicken and salad you had in the fridge, feeling guilty if you let it go to waste, and sighed, thinking how you just wanted this week to be over, having not gotten any of the things you wanted anyway.

You flipped your keys around the ring that you held in your hand, the one for your car now secured between your thumb and index finger, ready to unlock it and start your drive home.

That’s when you noticed him.

Part of the contributing factor to your sour mood was leaning against his Harley, smoking the last of his cigarette while his blond hair glowed like a halo on his head, his crooked smile greeting you as he squinted in the sunlight and stood.

It had been nine days since you last laid eyes on Jax.

Nine agonizing days that had you questioning everything you had with the gorgeous outlaw, and despite how much you wanted to give him hell, everything in you felt relieved to see him.

He strutted over to you, flicking the butt of his cigarette on the pavement as he made his approach, his cocky swagger never ceasing to make heat rise up through your body.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Well, this is a surprise,” you quipped, tilting your head as you watched him deflate slightly and look down at his pristine white sneakers, kicking a pebble before looking back at you with a shrug.

“I’m sorry.”

You nodded, not trusting your words to come out like ice.

“I miss you,” he added softly, closing the space between you where he gently grabbed your elbow and rested his forehead against yours, the contact making your stomach burst with butterflies while your heart ached in your chest.

“I miss you too,” you admitted, unable to deny it or keep it in despite telling yourself countless times that you wouldn’t give in so easily this time.

He smiled again, the rise of the corner of his mouth pulling out the crease on his cheek you missed so much, bringing your finger up to trace it before he pulled you into a hug and swayed on the spot with you.

You found yourself relaxing in his embrace, essentially melting into him as you always did, letting your cheek rest against the soft flannel shirt that he wore under his kutte, and you nuzzled yourself further into him, inhaling his scent of smoke, fresh laundry and cologne, your hands slipping beneath his shirt to card up his back.

“So, what are you doing here, Jax?” you asked, parting from him enough to see his face.

“I wanted to pick my girl up from work…make up for lost time…”

You smiled, watching his cheeks blush as his blue eyes moved down to look at your lips.

“Don’t think I was happy being away from you for that long either,” he explained, moving in close to you again while grabbing your ass at the same time.

“Jax!” You squirmed, checking behind you to make sure there was no one around who could be looking.

His chuckle sang to you, and when he angled his face down to capture your lips, you forgot about caring if anyone saw.

He pressed his hips into you as he deepened your kiss, claiming your mouth in a way that made you dizzy, his hands moving to hold either side of your face as he indulged in what he was clearly genuine in having missed.

“Come on,” he spoke in a lazy drawl, pulling away ever so slightly so that his lips still hovered on yours. “I’m taking you for a ride.”

You bit your lower lip, excited for your adventure while hoping he meant that in more ways than one, following him over to his bike with your hand secured in his.

Jax unclipped the spare helmet you always wore from the back and placed it on your head, gently feeding the strap through the loops to fasten it, the simple touch of his fingers on your chin making you yearn for him even though he was so close.

“There,” he said, smiling at you again when he had finished securing your helmet with the snap at the end of the strap, leaning in to kiss you softly. “You ready?”

You hummed and nodded, returning his smile as he winked at you and reached for his own helmet.

He sat on his bike, adjusting himself on the seat while he turned the key in the ignition and flicked the switch to the fuel pump, the loud, powerful rumble of the engine vibrating through you when it started up.

Jax looked over his shoulder at you and titled his head for you to hop on, gripping the handlebars with both hands as you positioned yourself behind him and he lifted the kickstand with his foot. You scooched forward until you were flush with his body, the sensation of your core pressing against him something you had been missing desperately, and you had no shame in tucking your hands up under his layers of shirts so they splayed out on his bare skin, feeling the trail of coarse hairs that disappeared in his jeans with your fingertips.

Riding with Jax was equally calming and exhilarating, feeling safe as you rested your cheek on his shoulder, but also free with how the wind made your hair fly, the gusts pressing against your body with powerful force as you traveled against it. He was no different; a risk, dangerous, but providing all you needed to feel like you were actually living, each moment spent with him making you come alive while simultaneously enveloping you in the safety of his arms, the proximity to his circumstance another thing that had your life walking the line between threatened and protected.

Despite it all, you would always choose him, knowing he would, and always had, chosen you over everything else, nothing able to stand in your way.

His hand dropped to rest on your thigh as he cruised, and you held him closer to you even though you had the freedom to ease up on your grip around his waist at this speed, feeling his stomach move as he chuckled.

Pulling up to a stop sign, Jax placed his foot down on the road, pausing even though no other vehicles were around to wait for. He twisted as much as he could, his head turning to look over his shoulder at you, his smile warming your soul as it always did.

“You okay back there?”

“Perfect,” you replied, seeing his grin grow wider, his eyes scrunching up at the sides.

“Hey,” he said, tapping his cheek with his finger and puckering his lips, requesting a kiss from you.

You happily did, pressing your lips into the blond scruff on his rosy cheek, feeling him hum against you.

It obviously wasn’t enough to satisfy him though, angling his face even more so he could reach your lips with his, his tongue dancing briefly in your mouth that sparked even more want and longing in you.

A car honked, annoyed and impatient with your obliviousness to the rules of the road, making you break your kiss earlier than you both wanted.

Jax scoffed and gave the driver the finger, earning another blare of the horn that made you laugh and bury your face in the crook of his neck, your lips gently pressing against his heated skin.

“Just fucking go then!” he yelled at the driver. “Jesus Christ…” he chuckled, shaking his head as he patted your thigh. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Where are we going?”

He smirked, a bit of mischief sparkling in his blue eyes, “I’m taking you home, baby.”

You bit your lip in anticipation of the promises held in his voice and his eyes, readjusting your hold around his torso as he pushed off the pavement and rolled through the intersection, turning left to head back into town and in the direction of home.

Golden rays still cast down on you as you rumbled along, the glow of the setting sun even more of a glorious view from the open air of his motorcycle, but nothing ever compared to him.

You squealed when Jax opened it up, twisting the throttle to add more speed, the bike easing forward smoothly but still a noticeable enough change to make your stomach jump. His laugh sounded out over the noise of the bike and the roar of the wind in your ears, making you giggle in response and smile harder, your hair catching on your parted lips as it blew around your face when he pushed his bike to go even faster.

“Hold on, darlin’!”

Those exact words were said again now, only his tone was completely different.

He was out of breath and panting, each word slow to come out and decorated by his efforts, his low grunts of pleasure a contrast to how bright and playful his warning had been earlier.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised from behind you, watching as you took hold of the headboard in front of you for support.

Jax gripped your hips and pulled you back, forcing your bum up and against his groin while your back sank into an exaggerated dip, seating himself even deeper inside your cunt that he had already been buried in for the better part of an hour now.

Resuming his pace, he thrusted in and out of you, dragging his thick cock slowly out before slamming it back in again, each blow making you whine and moan louder than before.

Having edged you the entire time, you were close, each movement a threat to unravel you completely, the longer he fucked you the further you came from being able to hold back your imminent orgasm.

Your bodies were wet, sweat and sex covering every inch of skin, your hair a mess and hanging in your face, sticking to your swollen, moist lips just as it had when you were on the back of his bike.

Long fingers raked through your tangled tresses, collecting it all into one of his hands with a twist and tugging on it enough it pulled at your scalp and made you shiver, angling your head back toward him where he leaned forward and kissed your neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good, darlin’,” he murmured, still thrusting into you at a forceful, precise pace. “You stay right here for me.”

He kept a tight grip on your hair, knowing it was wrapped around his fingers just like his rings were, keeping yourself where he’d positioned you out of fear that if you faltered and fell forward it would sting more than it already did.

Your hands secured their hold on the headboard, bracing yourself for what you hoped would be your demise, a lazy smile creeping on your parted lips when he continued to kiss and nip at your neck, his tongue swiping long strokes up to your ear where his breath followed to dance on the patch of wet skin he created.

“I love you,” he breathed, his voice soft as his mouth lingered on the shell of your ear, making your smile grow larger and tears spring out the corners of your eyes right before he upped his tempo and started fucking you with all he had, a gasp blowing out of your lungs that changed into wimpers and cries that filled the room.

“Jax - fuck! - I love you too,” you moaned, your head tipping to the side slightly only to be righted by him repositioning you by your hair.

“I know you do, darlin’,” he said through a smile you could hear playing on his voice, another unhinged sound spilling off your lips when he reached his other hand around your body to land on your cunt, two of his fingers roughly massaging your clit. “Now you be a good girl and cum for me,” he added, his words making you crumble and obey as soon as they were spoken.

The headboard shook and slapped against the wall as he pounded you harder, the secure clasp you still managed to have on it making it move violently to the sway of your body, and you wailed as you felt yourself gush around his cock that slammed in and out of you mercilessly.

The tension that ripped through your limbs eventually subsided into a relaxed, almost numb feeling, every part of you tingling and awoken, allowing you to focus on him, hearing his feral grunts as he finally unloaded himself inside you with a stuttering push of his hips.

As his cock pulsed and twitched inside your walls, he pulled on your hair more, bringing you closer to him as he met you halfway, his body collapsing over yours heavily, his mouth sucking and marking your neck with sloppy kisses.

A blissed-out chuckle came out of him as he fell onto the bed on his side, taking you with him while remaining buried in you, his arms enveloping you in a warm, lazy embrace that displayed all the addicting feelings that followed sex. Your legs tangled together, a soft hum passing your lips as you felt his stomach rise and fall against your back as he worked to catch his breath, his hand languidly running up and down your arm appreciatively.

Jax nuzzled his face in your hair, inhaling deeply like he was trying to consume every bit of you, his warm exhale ghosting over the sensitive skin that he had made raw with his scruff.

“I really did miss you,” he admitted, and the tone of his voice solidified that you couldn’t doubt that it was true for a second.

You smiled, reaching for his hand and bringing it up to your lips, pressing a kiss on each bruised knuckle and then over the rings that adorned them.

When he eventually slipped out of you, he rolled you over to face him, pulling you onto his body so you half-covered his, your leg hooking to rest high on his waist.

His hand ran over your hair, smoothing it down as he stared at you lovingly, the light in his eyes matching his smile.

He was the sun itself in your world, and like the moon, you'd chase him into each day to rid yourself of the shadows, unashamed to love him for everything he was.

Your heart swelled as he smiled bigger at you, the creases beside his mouth coming out, and you traced along the one with your finger, looking at him beam as if he hadn't committed heinous crimes in the name of the patch worn so proudly on his back and inked into the skin you so fiercely loved.

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your face closer to his so you were able to rub your nose back and forth on his.

A small laugh that turned into a hum blew out of him, his arms pulling you closer to his warmth.

“Anything for you, darlin',” he drawled, his exhaustion showing in his words.

He met your lips with his, softly brushing a kiss on them before capturing them fully, moving so you were guided onto your back and he laid his body over yours, proving that no matter how much energy he'd already expended in loving you, he wasn't nearly done yet.

---

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[lvrhughes]

So It Goes | L. Hughes

pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1.64k

summary: After a year of pining, Luke finally make a move, and the team is there to congratulate him.

warnings: none? drinking?

requested: no

not my gif!

“Are you even allowed to be here?”

The boy looked young, his wild curls covering the tips of his ears, his eyes wide with worry as if he’d been caught, and a crowd of older-looking men stood around him while I asked.

“I- Uh.” 

“He’ll be soon, we just need him to join in on the team bonding.” Another man spoke, he looked similar to the one with the curls, yet not the same.

“I don’t even work here, I was just asking.” You shrugged at him, watching relief flood the younger boy's eyes while a laugh escaped the other.

“That’s fucking hilarious, Luke freaked the fuck out!” 

The curly-headed boy was quick to smack the other, watching him fall slightly from the attack while you tried not to laugh. 

“Well, it’s been nice boys, however, I am out of drinks and in need of a refill.” 

The arena was dark, the occasional spotlight illuminating a small corner, yet you caught his eye. His piercing gaze forcing you back into the wall, you knew the look anywhere. 

Rookie sensation of the New Jersey Devils, a part of the Hughes Brothers, it was always him, wherever you went. His steps were slow, and placed, walking towards you at a pace to tempt you, to get you worked up. 

“Luke.” His name was a whisper on your lips, barely loud enough for him to hear as he approached, his hand running through the curls that had been neatly styled. 

He spoke your name in a deep voice, rough with use from throughout the night, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

You needed to drown them in tequila. 

“What do I owe the pleasure tonight?” His gaze lessened at the question, looking less annoying as he lingered around you.

“Needed to see you.”

There they were again, those pesky flutters that seemed to only cause trouble. You needed a distraction. 

“Well, I need another drink, so if you’ll excuse me for the night,” 

You failed to finish the sentence as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. The embrace was over almost as quick as it started, with the tall boy standing quickly and fixing his suit before wandering off again.

The crowd of people seemed to reappear, having disappeared with Luke. They all seemed to have been staring at the boy and you, yet you could never tell, you’d forgotten they’d even been there. 

Slowly, you regained your barings, shaking away the feeling Luke left you with, before walking towards the bar. Waving the bartender over to get another of whatever drink Jack had gotten you before, before his brother came over and seemed to send the world upside down. 

Befriending the boys after meeting them at the bar one night was common sense, they seemed like a good time, which led to you being invited to every event by one boy or the other. Commonly it was Jack, Luke seeming to taking a distaste to inviting you to these events after he found out you had a boyfriend when you met. 

You dumped him a week later when he claimed that you were simply ‘whoring around’ with the entire team. 

You weren’t sure if Luke knew that, Jack did though, being the one you called to get you after you forced your ex out of your shared apartment to back your belongings. Luke had been with the rest of the team at the time, at practice, but Jack was out on a mental health day. 

The room seemed to still stare at you, even alone, it only seemed okay when Luke was near you, the comforting presence of his making the constant stares better. 

You scanned the room, looking for any signs of the tall defenseman, sighing when you failed to find him. Turning back to the bartender as she slid the drink back towards you, allowing a short thank you to slip from your lips and another short sentence of “put it on Jack’s tab” to follow. 

“Putting your drinks on my brother now?” His voice was behind you, leaned against the bar as you turned, seeing the black suit, now missing the jacket, hugging his body perfectly. 

“He said I could.” You grinned, hands itching to reach out and touch him. 

“You know, I could pay for them too.” 

“Lu, this isn’t a competition.” 

“What if I want it to be?” 

The question caught you off guard, staring at the boy for a second before taking a sip of the drink, hoping the slight buzz would help you understand the boy.  

“Why would you want it to be?” 

“So I could win.” 

You paused, once again, if he won, what would be win? What would he want to win? The questions ran through your mind as you tried to decide what to ask him first. 

“If you won, what would you win?”

There was a small smirk on his lips, his hand running through his curls while his other held your waist pulling you closed to where he leaned. 

“You.” 

You froze, the drink in your hand almost dropping, held only by Luke who caught it before it could slip. Your mind was whirling, staring at the boy with wide eyes as he stared by, judging your reaction to his words. 

“Do you think I’d win?” 

The words slipped past his lips with a smile, his eyes nevering yours while he awaited an answer. Your breathing uneven as you listen to his question, butterflies in your stomach seemingly ready to explode. 

“I think so.” 

The way his face lit up was the same as a kid at Christmas, his eyes wide and filled with adoration. His hands moving quickly to discard your drink back onto the bartop, moving to cup your face, letting his fingers slip through your hair in the process. Your hands copied his, moving through his hair to end wrapped around his neck, continuing to run through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He kept his voice quiet, leaning forward to speak, pressing his forehead against yours.

All you could do was nod, leaning more into him by the second, waiting for his lips to be on yours. 

His movements were precise, pressing his lips against yours that had you practically begging for more while he was still there. His hands running through your hair now, yours doing the same to him before he dropped his hands, holding your waist, keeping you pulled taut against him. 

His forehead rested against yours as he pulled away to breath, panting softly while staring at you. His pupils dilated, filled with love and lust, their natural green color hidden behind. 

A smile found its way onto your face at the sight, seeing the smudged lipstick on his lips, tinting them a soft pink color, matching the flush that covered his cheeks. 

“You got a little..” you trailed off, wiping your hands over the corner of his mouth, feeling the feather-soft kiss he pressed to your fingers as you did. 

“I’d take being covered in lipstick everyday if it means I get to kiss you everyday.” 

His words were quiet, like a confession he didn’t want the room to hear. The words urging the fluttering feeling of butterflies to erupt in your stomach again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your hands running through the curls at the nape of his neck while he leaned down, nuzzling into the crook of yours.

“Please tell me I won.” 

“You won Luke, and you won’t even need to wear lipstick everyday for it.” 

You could feel his body vibrating with laughter as you held him, his arms holding you in place against him. Slowly his laughter settled, moving to press soft kisses along the collum of your neck instead, feeling how you’d move against him, seeing how far you’d let him go. “Lu,” the nickname came out breathy, barely above a whisper. “Not here.” 

“Let’s go then.” 

His words were short, his movements fast. Grabbing your hand, pulling back, forcing you to follow him towards the door, only slowing when he saw the team staring at him with wide eyes.

Your hands landing on his back as he abruptly stopped, barely catching yourself from falling into him. 

“What?” His voice was timid, as if he was scared that his team would do something horrid to him. 

“Never thought you’d do it.” Nico muttered, shaking his head at the sight of Luke holding your frame against his, taught against his side now while your hands ran up and down his back. 

“I’m impressed, for one.” Jack spoke back, turning between Nico and Luke, catching your eye once within the stares.

“What are you all on about?” Luke’s question was filled with anxiety, it could be heard in his voice, his grip wavering on your waist while you scratched your nails along his back to calm him, feeling his body relax slightly at the movement. 

“You finally got the fucking girl!” Jack cheered, moving quickly to pull Luke from your grasp, spinning  the taller boy in a hug, while the team cheered with him. 

“You freaked me out just to tell me good job?” Luke asked as he pushed his way off his brother, falling back into your arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Yes, it only took you a whole year.” Jack rolled his eyes as he spoke, Nico hitting the back of his head with a glare after. 

“What he meant is we didn’t mean to freak you out, we were just surprised you’d make the move here, but nonetheless, good job.” Nico covered, pushing Jack behind him to pull Luke into a half hug before facing you. “You’re very lucky.” 

“I know.”

[lovelybluebirdie]

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

[strawberrystepmom]

minors/ageless dni - i will hard block you. gojo and f!reader are married. never have i met a man whose dick gets harder over nonsense like this. | divider by cafekitsune, wc 656

“God, one of these days I’m going to kill you.”

The aggravated insult leaves your lips before you have time to stop it. Satoru stands behind you, lips pressed against the back of your neck, chuckling deep in his throat while you chop up the final details of dinner on the counter in front of you.

Awkward silence lingers and you place the knife down on the counter, bracing your hands on the edge of the countertop. What can you even say? “Sorry for threatening your life over a minor annoyance?” It seems excessive to ignore what you said but even more questionable to say it again, sharp kitchen knife discarded lest you do seem murderous.

Your husband finds your outburst positively enticing, the reward his pestering sought out to begin with finally dropped in his lap, your frustration nothing short of catnip to a cat.

Opening your mouth to speak, you’re stopped when he slides his hands next to yours, caging you against the corner with his arms. The sheer size of him is lost on you on a day to day basis. He only embraces that size on occasion anyway, usually to puff himself up like a peacock for its mate to impress you, and the reminder that his forearm alone is the size of your entire arm sends a chill down your spine. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he glances at you out of the side of his eye with a smirk.

“What was that?”

He’s taunting you; making fun of your little outburst. The gradual grating of your nerves has made you feisty and if Gojo is honest with himself, that’s how he likes you best on occasion. You turn your head to glance at him silently with wide eyes, his entire body keeping you pressed against the edge of the counter.

“And how were you planning on doing that?” Grinding his crotch into your lower back, you gasp feeling a burgeoning erection pressing into the zipper of his pants. “As you can see, you’re a little outmatched at least size wise, so tell me…how?”

The teasing continues, his lips finding the side of your neck to graze against the tender skin with a few nips and kisses, blood pulsing beneath your skin and heating your face and limbs and all too responsive core.

“I, uh, I wasn’t.” Your answer is weakly whispered, the lip of the counter now digging into the space between your ribs and the bottom of your breasts. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

Another predatory chuckle is pressed against your neck, his hands sliding up your arms and down your sides, settling on your hips. That burgeoning erection is now full of life, rubbed between the cheeks of your clothed ass, the fabric between your bodies providing delicious friction to ignite the fire between you.

“I know. There isn’t anything you can do to hurt me.” Another drag of his lips up your neck, toward your throat as he speaks. “But there is plenty I could do to hurt you.”

The innuendo laced in his words keeps them light despite the intensity in his eyes that are still locked on your face, one of his hands sliding off of your hip to smack your ass. The touch stings even through the fabric covering it and you hiss in response, arching your back into his chest. He kisses your jaw and chin and forehead, pulling your head backward toward him.

“Say it again?”

You giggle, lips slick with his saliva and your own.

“I’m going to kill you.”

He groans and ruts into your back again, rolling his eyes back in his head. Those impressively large arms hold you in place, his shoulders and chest broad against the back of you, and you know that the only way he’ll be hurting you tonight is going to be by fucking you until you are limping in the morning.

[gil-galadhwen]

Elrond X Reader (gender neutral)

After seeing a stunning floppy haired, battle midst Elrond in the new Rings of Power teaser trailer, I got inspired to respond to an ancient request in my inbox which has since myseriously disppeared?!

Anyway, the prompt was Tell Me What You Want from this list

Summary & Warnings: Elrond returns from the battle haunted and desperate to tell you how he feels about you… (closed door spice)

Word Count: 900+

Tell Me What You Want

Elrond and the others returned to camp in the dead of night. You weren't asleep of course. It was impossible when not only did the fate of your kind hang in the balance, but the fate of your greatest love did too. 

Elrond didn't know how you feel about him. You'd kept the desires of your heart hidden for years, holding it close as you watched him ready for a battle he may not return from.

Except he had returned.

You peer through the gap in your tent as the warriors are celebrated in their triumphant homecoming. Their smiles are bright and gleaming against their filthy armour. You scour the crowd in the dim firelight until you see him standing off to the side with his helmet tucked under his arm. His hair has grown longer over the many months, dark curls falling into eyes both familiar and haunted by something you don't recognise. 

Elrond smiles at every well wisher who passes him. Shaking hands, embracing and gripping the steel shoulders plates of his comrades until they crunched. You want to go to him, but you're somehow locked in place. Even as his eyes dart around the camp as though looking for something, for someone.

Looking for you.

You chide yourself for thinking such ridiculous thoughts. He's not looking for you at all. Why would he? You're barely acquaintances, nevermind friends. You’d certainly collaborated on projects for the king in the past and often sat together during formal dinners and gatherings. Even sharing a bed once when travelling back to Lindon after completing a quest for the king. You’d stopped at an inn that only had one bed, yet Elrond was ever the gentleman, ensuring you were comfortable with him there and never giving you more than a friendly glance. 

Except for the night he left for battle. 

As the soldiers prepared to leave, he’d sought you out and then wordlessly lifted your hand to his lips, pressing them to your knuckles. You’d been too surprised to speak as he held you there, suspended in a moment you thought would never come. Perhaps it was his way of saying goodbye, yet you watch him now, with a flicker of hope igniting in your chest that it had meant so much more.

***

The fires are banked and the once loud cheers and cajoling have quietened to a murmur as you finally emerge from your tent. The scent of burning cedar and honey mead lingers in the air as you meander through the thinning crowd of elves squeezing as much out of the festivities as possible before the sun rose on a new day, bringing with it new challenges, as is the nature of war. 

As a Scribe to King Gil-galad, you're free to move anywhere within the camp. You feel a strange mix of peace and anticipation when you reach the row of tents reserved for the king's most revered soldiers, but it occurs to you that you have no idea which is Elrond's. Then suddenly he’s there, standing in front of you with an expression of such pure relief on his face that your eyes start to sting.

“You are well, my lord?” you ask, cringing at how formal you sound.

“As well as can be.” Elrond smiles weakly in return. “And you?”

He sounds different. As though the usually reassuring tone of his voice has been stripped away, leaving behind a weariness you find almost overwhelming to witness. He takes a step towards you and you reach for him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as his own wind firmly around you, holding you close. You feel his lips press to the exposed skin of your shoulder where your robe has slipped down. You hear the words he whispers into your skin like a litany… 

I missed you. I missed you. I missed you…Meleth nîn…

My love.

You pull back to look at him. He’s removed his armour and bathed, his wavy hair still damp and mussed.

“I missed you too,” you say, taking his hand in your own. “Which tent is yours?”

***

As soon as the flaps close on Elrond’s private tent, you come together as though magnetised. The kisses are hotter than the flames of the campfires. They burn deliciously, branding your skin so that they feel permanent. Like invisible tattoos. 

You fall together onto the low bed and you release a giggle when you find yourself straddling Elrond, but then you stop when you see the way he’s looking at you. Has he always looked at you this way, you wonder. It’s everything you've ever wanted, but what of him? He’s always been so sweet and polite.

And alone.

Has he wanted you all this time, like you’ve wanted him?

“Tell me what you want,” you say, breathless and willing. “I’ll give you anything.”

Elrond’s eyes glitter as he slowly tugs on the tie holding your robe closed.  The fabric pools around your waist and you feel your skin warm at the exposure. At the vulnerability of being like this in front of him.

“I want you just like this,” he says. Tilting his hips so that you feel him beneath you, hard and wanting. 

“I want us to join and then never be parted–” the words become caught in a net of emotion and he looks away.

Tears begin to well as you bring your hand to Elrond’s cheek in a caress. You do not speak again, but an understanding passes between you as you give the revered soldier everything he wants.

You like this.

[poetryvampire]

painfully needy Rolan going into rut

Had this on the brain lately. I don't think it would take much to make Rolan an absolute mess but imagine how worse it would be when he's going into rut. Boy would snap so fast

Rolan x afab non-tiefling reader

Have some 🔥spicy🔥 musings

*this went longer than I wanted lol. But if you like it tell me if you want more 🧡

● Rolan had been doing this dance with you for months now. Both working at Sorcerous Sundries you saw each other regularly, even tried to work together as much as possible (not that he'd ever admit that). The banter, the playful mockery leading to not so subtle flirtation was easy until now.

● The conversations didn't flow like before. A joke about becoming a doe eyed scarcely dressed maiden -like the ones on the covers of those novels you so enjoy- suddenly lead his mind to wander. Any wisecrack replaced with the image of you gazing at him so lustfully. An image that stays with him for the rest of the day (and night).

● Lia and Cal are very vocal about his uptick in irritability. He tries to ignore them but they're not wrong. Ever little thing sets him off. He's frustrated at himself. For letting the feelings get so far without truely noticing. For being too proud or too embarrassed to act on them.

●He often forgets his words as his eyes lingered on your lips, your neck, your figure. More than once you caught him staring and to his surprise no offense was taken. Just a quizzical look, perhaps a soft smile that flooded his face with warmth.

●Rolan would have almost preferred you'd have met him with anger. Now the hope of you ran rampant through him. That if he was ever to give in he may be met with the embrace he so longed for. The need for you was growing by the day. He even took care to not stand to closely to you now. He coursed himself for it. How had he become so starved for affection that even the scent of you sprung his body to life.

●The wizard had spent many nights forced to take action if he was to ever find sleep. He'd be tangled in his sheets, hair wild, trusting violently into his own fist. He tries to keep his fantasies to more abstract forms of pleasure but as hard as he tries the vague shapes melt into crystal clear images of you. It would always be you around him like a vice that would push him over the edge.

● There were times he'd lose himself so throughly he'd cry out your name as he came. Embarrassed by this lack of control, Rolan told himself it was better to happen here than in front of you.

● Going into work that morning something felt off. Rolan's whole body felt extra sensitive, aching. The horrible thought finally struck him at midday. Was he going into rut? Now!? With such little warning? He calms himself. He's not certain after all.

● Until he's been paired with you to clean out and old study turned storage room. He's hyper aware of your scent. Its filling his lungs,making his knees weak. The room isn't exactly small but it's stuffed with stacks of books making moving around a problem. You're constantly having to squeeze (delightfully, terrifyingly) close to each other.

● Luckily you're busying yourself with the task at hand. Rolan prays you won't notice how red (red-er) his face is or the sizable bulge he's currently cloaking with a stack of books. The straining against his pants is almost painful. He's eyeing the door, anything to escape the heat building in his blood.

●His eyes fall back to you and all notions of making a run for it leave his mind. Along with everything else that isn't right in front of him. You looked a vision, standing on and old box body spread across the book self as you attempt to reach something on the top shelf. Not only was it a perfect view of your form, it reminded him of a pose one might see in an old painting.

●Suddenly the box wobbled threatening to send you falling backwards. Your scream was cut short as you felt Rolan catch you, arms wrap around your middle tightly pressing you to him. His face buried in your hair he couldn't help utter a deep groan. The wave of intoxicating aroma washing away his last bit of restraint.

●With ease he flips you around, pressing you into the shelf, a maon escaping your lips. Your hands came to his chest not to push him away but in a gentle caress.

●'Rolan? Please,' was hardly out on your mouth when they were swallowed by his lips. He kisses you like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Madly, desperately as if any second you may be taken away for him. Hungrily he deepens the kiss and your lips part for him with ease, both of you relishing in the taste.

●It's only when you part for air he realizes he's been rocking his hips into you. An apology catches in his throat as you grind back against him. He's dizzy with lust, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

●His lips find your neck, kissing, sucking and biting. Trying his best not to break the skin. Your moans drive him on. His hands are frantic running all over you. Soon your hands lead his to the laces on your dress. He makes quick work of it.

●Rolan takes you in his arms again and lays you down on a near by table. A little too eager he tears your under things away completely. But to his awe you only laugh and spread yourself out for him to drink you in fully. You're a goddess in his eye and he intends to worship.

●Words spill senselessly from him as he lavishes you with his mouth. 'Fuck, Fuck! You're beautiful you're perfect. I need- God's, l need you I need you.' He hasn't the brain for elegance now. He's kissing you everywhere maoning words of love into your skin.

● As he makes it to your thighs he cannot help but bury is face between them. The sweet taste of your sex has him throbbing with out so much as a touch. He wants to make sure you're nice and ready for him. You're not a tiefling after all and he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. It doesn't take long before you're dripping wet against his tongue as he slides wildly between attacking your entrance and your clit.

●You stifle a scream as an orgasm suddenly rips through you, your thighs shaking in his grasp. Youre still panting but you pull him away, drawing him closer to you. As you pull him into a soft kiss your hands unlace his pants (finally) freeing his erection. Though to hold him lightly his gasp is sharp. He's painfully hard; his head already glistening with precum.

●As he runs he length against your folds he tries to center himself. He doesn't want to be too rough or finish terribly fast. He wants to go slow but when he catches on your entrance he can't help but thrust into you, the relief of his agony so close. You tremble but encourage him on. His name quickly becoming a soft prayer on your lips.

●He's wrapped inside you now, almost all the way. The pleasure overwhelming him he opts for quicker shallow thrusts. He's taken aback by how vocal he is as more sweet lustful nothings spill from him. Rolan's control is fading fast. He's practically shaking, slamming himself into you losing whatever rhythm he had. The sight of your face contorting with pleasure is pushing him to his end. He can feel the hot pull in his gut. And suddenly something else as.

●A chill runs over him as he feels the swelling at the base of his cock. He grasps it and pulls out not wanting to subject you to something he didn't even take the time to explain. In part he's too late. He didn't fully knot but he still comes hard, spilling thick ropes all over your stomach and thighs. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.

● He blushes deeply and panics, apologizing over and over. He didn't want it to be like this. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him gently. You don't know that much about teifling biology but Gods you wanted to learn. Rolan tries to believe you, that this wouldn't scare you off.

● He adjusted his pants, somehow still as uncomfortable as before. Perhaps it was the sight of you dressing. How you made no move to do away with his mess before you did. He could take you again easily. But not here.

● You convince him to claim illness and leave work early. To take time to rest. He agrees wanting to lock himself away from the world. And yet he also agrees to meet you that night. Then he'd have a more level head. A chance to explain himself and perhaps to hold you in his arms for longer.

Xoxo thanks for reading friends ❤️

[morganas-pendragons]

disbelief | elrond peredhel

gif by goodsirs

this is the hurt/comfort elrond fic I promised. enjoy!

summary: you and elrond mourn. Elrond asks something of you.

please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future elrond or celebrimbor fics! this one may get a part 2 because the ideas are FLOWING!

tagging: @celebrimbormylove

SPOILERS FOR 2x08

You know your place is not in the heat of battle. Your gifting has always been music, the lithe fingers of a violinist meant to create beauty within the confines of Lindon's hold. You have made your peace with that.

it does not get any easier when you find out that The High King is having Elrond lead the Elven army to Eregion. Eregion, which is under siege, with Lord Celebrimbor right at the center.

Your heart aches. Celebrimbor is one of Elrond's most beloved kin, and you dread what he may find upon arriving at Eregion.

"He is best suited for this role, and you know it," Gil-Galad remarks as he strides across his study, leaving you to linger by the door as you nervously fiddle with your hands. It is the first time you and Elrond will be apart since your confession of feelings. It is not surprising you are apprehensive to watch him leave. "I do not make promises idly. If I promise that I will return him to you. You do trust my word, do you not?"

"I do, High King."

There's little you can say to Elrond when you meet him at the gate at dawn, still dressed in your nightrobes and tugging messily on your loose hair. It is a nervous habit that you have kept for quite some time that Elrond has tried to break you of by offering to braid your hair every night before you sleep.

You let him. If anything, you are always going to let Elrond treat you with that gentle love he only reserves for you. With those tender touches that cradle you as if you are his most precious, with those eyes that always seek out your own as if he finds respite within your gaze.

As if he finds the ability to embrace the Half-Elven he has hated for so much of his life.

"Meleth nin." Elrond's voice breaks through your reverie as he approaches to cradle your hands in his own. Your aspect softens as you shift closer to press your forehead to his. "You did not need to come see me off. The sun has barely risen over the hills."

"I wish to say goodbye to my beloved," You reply quietly. Reaching into your robes, you produce a handkerchief with your initials pressed into the corner and curl his fingers around it. You'd carefully doused it in the perfume you often wear since your first date in the gardens. "And to tell you to come home to me."

Elrond lifts the handkerchief to his nose and inhales deeply. It is a pleasant scent. One that provokes intimate memories bathed in light.

It is more than enough to keep him fighting.

"I will come home to you." His words are a declaration, a promise written between you both that is sealed with a handkerchief and a kiss shadowed by twilight as you part. "Until then, namárië, my love."

You are left alone at Lindon's gates to watch him depart with the rest of the Elvish army and Gil-Galad. He has specifically asked you to tend to the others who remain while they are both gone, claiming that your ability to create beauty amid such darkness and death was commendable.

The Elves would need it if they were to survive Sauron.

***

The word reaches you through one of the couriers that stumble through Lindon's tree line, bloodied and bruised but carrying a hastily scribbled note from the High King.

Eregion lost. Celebrimbor slain. Return to us with whoever remains in Lindon to this location.. protected by the 3 Rings of Power.

You hold your breath as you scan through the rest of the note.

Elrond is alive.

Relief floods through your body as you scramble back through the gates and begin calling orders to the healers and remaining survivors who remained behind to begin packing their belongings to travel. The group you lead is few, but many of them are in good spirits and are ready to tend to the wounded who fought bravely on the front lines of battle against Sauron.

You're halfway to Gil-Galad's disclosed location when you realize that he's said Celebrimbor has been slain. "Oh, Celebrimbor," You whisper, running the backs of your hands across your eyes as tears blur your vision. You had great respect and a deep admiration for the Elven Smith. He was one of the only elves you'd ever come across who could really understand the depth of your passion for the arts. "Be peaceful, my friend."

Elrond was surely beside himself with grief. You had to find him, and you had to find him soon.

Your party ventured into the cliffs of Gil-Galad's newest sanctuary, guarded by what Elven royal guards remained who guided you toward the waterfall where a makeshift medical tent sat proudly against the rays of sun that fell upon it.

Galadriel is the first to greet you. "It is good to see you, old friend," She greeted, wincing as you pulled your hand away from her shoulder like you had been burned. "I apologize. I was wounded in battle with Sauron."

"You were what-"

She shakes her head and motions to the smaller tent behind the main one. "I know that you have little in the gift of healing, but Elrond could use your care. I had him moved to the secondary tent for more privacy. He is.." Galadriel bowed her head and exhaled quietly. It was only then in that moment that you remember how old she really is. "Wracked with grief over Lord Celebrimbor."

Ah.

"Will you communicate to the King that I have arrived with the remainder of the survivors and healers from Lindon?" You ask. Galadriel complies, murmuring her goodbyes under her breath as you remove your belongings just beside the medical tent and begin your trek up through the center aisle to enter the one Elrond occupies.

You're nearly knocked off your feet by the smell. You have been spared violence and despair for most of your life. To be witness to such devastation brought upon by the hands of Sauron, and to your Elven kin, stirs an anger deep in your belly that you've never felt before. It hurts. It aches.

He sees you before you see him.

"My love?"

Your eyes flicker through the gap in the tent to find a head of matted, bloodied curls and red-rimmed, sunken eyes staring back at you. Elrond looks exactly like Galadriel has described him to look. He looks like the picture of grief.

That ache in your heart festers at the sight of him as you rush forward, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling yourself up and into his embrace. Elrond grasps you with all the force of a man desperately trying to anchor himself to the world when he'd so easily rather disappear.

"Elrond," You whisper. It is your assurance to know that he is here by that whispered repetition of his name, by feeling the warmth of his skin and the press of metal against your body as he clings to you. "My love-"

"Celebrimbor. Sauron, he-" Elrond snarls quietly into your shoulder as you begin to fumble with removing his armor. You have done it enough times now that the practice is coming more easily. "He took Celebrimbor and killed him. My father said his life was supposed to be in my hands. I tried.. I tried so hard to save his works, but the Uruk burned it and Celebrimbor is dead-"

You can hear the shame he directs at himself as you remove his armor and set it to the side. Elrond has so often taken the weight of other people's responsibilities and expectations upon himself. He wants to be remembered for something other than being Elros' brother, for being the Half-Elven who resides in Lindon. Many of the full-blooded elves have held disdain and contempt against him for something completely out of his control.

He could not control this. Could not control Celebrimbor's decisions or Sauron's actions.

"I mourn Celebrimbor with you, Elrond." You said. You move to step away and grasp the rag and water basin beside you, but Elrond's grip on your body makes it difficult to move. You pause in your place and turn to face him once again, surprised to find his eyes hidden from you and face cast toward the floor. His fingers shake where they lay against your body. "Elrond?"

"His legacy went up in smoke. The Nine are gone, Feanör's statue desecrated, his prints and his works ashes. We don't even have a body to bury. How do we honor him?" His voice breaks as Elrond, for the first time in all the time you have known him, admits defeat. "How do I honor him when I failed?"

You manage to reach far enough to grasp the wet rag between your fingers and turn to face him as you drag it over the stained skin on his face. Elrond's silent tears track down clean, softened skin, and you wipe those away with your thumbs as they come.

"What if we have a funeral?" You suggest. "I will play at it, but I think you need to orchestrate and speak. Galadriel and the King would be grateful for it as well. We all loved Celebrimbor. As did I. He was one of few who could appreciate my artistry as I could his. Let his grave mark the new beginning we have here. Let that be the way to honor him."

Elrond doesn't break the silence for several minutes. He simply allows himself to bask in being alive, in you being alive here with him in this little tent far away from the war and from Sauron. You could build a life here. A home.

That is what he wants to do.

He does not dare speak until you are finished and washing the rag used to clean his arms and face. "I would very much like to do that with your assistance, nin mel. You are the only one I know who could create such beautiful things out of such darkness and travesty."

You playfully roll your eyes and tap the end of his nose with your finger. "You humor me, Commander." You muse. Elrond lets you go long enough to watch as you move his armor to the corner of the room and motion to the tub of hot water the healers had prepared while you were cleaning him. "Now humor me more and get in the bath. You smell foul."

Elrond's laughter is a balm to the ache in your heart. You too will miss Celebrimbor dearly, but you cannot afford the luxury of grief when he is so deeply engrossed in his own.

"Humor me. I have a request, aside from the funeral."

"That sounds more like a demand." You tease. "Go on."

"Remain here with me when the rest of Lindon's elves return home. Build our home here. With me. Build Imladris. Help me honor Celebrimbor."

The shock of his statement sends the objects in your arms clattering to the floor. He wants to do what?

[snghw4]

hi!! just wondering if you could write an x reader royalty fic, perhaps where a member is a knight and reader is a princess? i saw their destiny's memories popup and couldn't stop thinking about it

after dark

pairing: knight!choi san x princess!reader

words: 2k

genre: smut, royalty au, one shot (detailed fic later :3)

a/n: ty for requesting :,) i wanna write a long detailed knight princess au so bad omg-

the gardens during the daytime weren't much of a scene, especially when there wasn't much to see except a few maidens and servants going about at their tasks.

and knights.

and choi san.

your lover.

you spot him standing, not moving a muscle at his position, as he was on duty in front of the doorway.

"san" you playfully whisper from behind him, knowing he cannot move.

"you're always working so hard, "you told the knight, lower lip sticking out playfully.  he offered you a brief glance, but still stood at attention

"i'm working to protect you," he answered, voice low so he wouldn't get into any trouble for talking when he wasn't meant to be. you grabbed ahold of his hand, his armor clanging at the motion.

"come and protect me from upstairs"

-

there was a soft tap at your window.

soft, but still hard enough to pull yourself away from your bed and make your way toward it, gently opening the window and unlatching the lock that held it close.

your knight was perched below the windowsill, having used the string vines to scale the walls of the palace, "hello, princess".

"san?" you exclaim softly. "what are you doing at this hour? here?"

"can i not see my princess when i want to?" he answered, snarkily. "now please let me in before i fall over; i dont think this is sturdy enough to hold me"

you help him in and shut the windows almost immediately. you hoped nobody saw him sneak into your room.

before you could turn and interrogate your lover, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a kiss on your shoulder, eliciting a sigh from you. you hadn't seen san in days, except the interaction earlier in the day, and the time felt excruciatingly torturous without him.

"i missed you, my princess," he sighs onto your shoulder, slowly brushing your hair away." i missed you so much"

"i missed you more, san" you smile, turning to face him, and finally taking a good look of him. you traced his sharp features gently, and placed a soft kiss on his nose.

he didn't wait long to place his lips on yours, after what felt like forever, softly cupping your cheeks with his palms. you slowly nipped at his bottom lip, the kiss only got heated with time, as your hands found its way around his neck.

his hands left your face to grab your waist and pull you even closer to him, wanting you to be as close to him as possible. his tongue prodded and swiped at your lips, the room filling with the sounds on your lips smacking. his lips felt so familiar it hurt. his breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. you let yourself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against your spine.

san left soft kisses that had your breath hitching down your neck, being careful not to leave behind any marks that would raise questions, tongue poking out to lick a stripe down your neck. you sighed at the contact, the soft moan only turning him on even more. he gets back up to face you, hands tracing your waist begging for more contact.

"tell me to stop and i will, but i need you, my love" he groans. he keeps pressing kisses down your jaw and neck that makes your heart flutter, each feather-light kiss leaving a trail of warmth that lingers long after his lips have moved on. "i need to have you now"

"then have me" you pant, watching san's eyes darken with intensity, taking in your expression of pure lust, a silent exchange, followed by the softest brush of his lips atop yours that sets the tension ablaze.

nothing could've prepared you for the way san flips and smashes his lips on yours, the sudden intensity making you gasp and grip onto his shoulders, melting into the kiss. his hands find your wrists, pinning them above you against the wall, lips still attached.

he swiftly gets the horrible excuse of a nightgown off you, hands immediately cupping your breasts as your breath hitched.he pulls away for not more than a second, going on to latch his lips onto your right nipple, making you whimper at the contact. his tongue slips out, flicking at it, and the feeling only made your sounds louder.

"so beautiful" he mumbles against your chest "all for me, aren't you?"

"all yours, san" you manage to whisper. you feel him smirk against your skin, hands cupping at your heat, and pushing your squirming body against the wall harshly.

"stay still, princess" he speaks tauntingly "need you to stay still if you wanna feel good"

you nod, watching him smirk at how your body flushed and shuddered when his fingers got close to where you needed him the most. he felt you and yearned for more of you every second, pressing his fingers onto your core through your panties with lazy circles.

"san please, don't tease" you whined as he chuckled. after what seemed like a century later, he swiftly gets rid of the cloth and the warm contact of his fingers only make you hiss loudly.

"shhh, doll" he breathed lightly. "as beautiful as you sound, you wouldn't want anyone catching us, would you?"

you shake your head, chest heaving at how his fingers grazed your clit ever so slightly.

"perhaps you'd like that too, no?" he mumbles, "you'd want them to see how wet i get you, how needy my princess is? look at yourself baby, you're soaking" you stutter his name wanting more, you wanted his so bad.

he gets down on his knees, throwing your leg over his shoulder, almost making you lose balance. the scene only gets you even more soaking than you already are: san on his knees, pressing kisses up your inner thigh making you squirm, and his eyes looking up at you.

"eyes on me, princess" his breath hits your core, "i want your eyes on me while i make you feel good"

before you could comply, he delves into your core, his lips on your clit, taking it in his mouth eliciting a soft moan from you. his tongue laps at your clit with reckless abandon as you muffle your sounds by biting down on your lip, tugging at his hair.

a high-pitched whine escapes your throat as pleasure crashes over you all of a sudden, your hands fisting in his hair to hold him in place. his tongue works magic on your throbbing clit, swirling and flicking in maddening patterns that have you seeing stars. 

he murmurs something against your slick folds that go unnoticed because of the waves of pleasure that are shooting up your spine at the moment, your inner walls clenching around nothing as he continues his relentless attack to get you closer to the edge.

you suddenly feel san's finger slip in you slowly, that only makes you roll your eyes at the contact, mouth agape as you take in the new sensation. your hips buck involuntarily as he sucks hard at your clit, while his fingers curl just the right amount to hit the spot that has you seeing stars.

you tug at his hair harder when you feel an orgasm creeping as you clench harder around his fingers, managing to silence your cries of pleasure.

"that's it doll, cum all over my tongue" you hear his groan, chin coated with your slick, looking up at you. he swipes his tongue between your folds before he sucks ar your clit between his lips and rolls it with his tongue, bringing you closer to ecstasy.

"san please, so close" you dont even know what your begging for anymore, all that you know is that you needed more, more of san as his movements become more urgent with your cries and whimpers.

you cry out as your first orgasm hits you, but san doesnt stop there. he groans against your core as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers.

"one more baby, give me one more" he urges, sucking harshly. it didn't take you long for the knot in your stomach to tighten for the second time, your wails only making his fingers pump harder.

he feels you cry out for the second time as moans with his mouth still on you, fingers moving slowly. you gasp and try to catch your breath as san presses soft kisses on your thigh, body still trembling.

"you did so well princess" san smiles at you, teasingly. a weak smile tugs at your lips as the lingering waves of pleasure are yet to calm down. his eyes are soft as he presses kisses on your cheeks, but there's a teasing glint in them that tells you he's enjoying every second of this, how he has you wrapped around his fingers. 

"feel this, baby?" he guides your hand to his bulge, groaning at the contact. "look at what you do to me"

san has to physically stop himself from taking you right there, until you see stars, wanting to to take it slow.

he has the whole night ahead of him anyway.

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ comforting bucky after a stressful day !

(roughly 800 words, also i’m trying to write a little more for bucky, hope that’s ok☹️)

the door creaked open, and you glanced up from your book, instantly noticing the tension in bucky’s posture as he stepped inside. his shoulders were rigid, and there was a tightness in his jaw that told you everything you needed to know - today hadn’t been easy for him.

he didn’t say anything, just quietly hung his jacket on the hook by the door, his movements precise and controlled, the way they always were when he was trying to keep it together. the weight of the day was still heavy on his mind, you could tell, and the silence between you felt charged with unspoken frustration.

“hey, baby.” you said softly, setting your book down. “rough day?”

he let out a small grunt, his only response as he headed toward the kitchen, probably to busy himself with something - anything - to distract himself. bucky didn’t usually talk about his feelings right away. it wasn’t really his strong suit. but that didn’t mean he didn’t need you.

after a few minutes, you stood and followed him, finding him leaning against the counter, staring down at the floor. “you wanna talk about it?” you offered gently, already knowing what the answer would be.

“no,” he muttered, not looking up. “nothing to talk about.”

you leaned against the counter next to him, close but not touching. he’d come to you when he was ready; you just had to give him space. “well, i’m here if you change your mind.”

for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to respond. but then, with a quiet sigh, he pushed off the counter and turned to you, his blue eyes meeting yours. “it was just… one of those days, y’know?” he said, his voice low. “too much noise, too many people.” he uttered, shrugging it off.

you nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. bucky never did well with chaos - he preferred control, order, and quiet. days that pushed him out of that comfort zone wore on him in a way most people couldn’t see, but you did. you always did.

“c’mere,” you said softly, opening your arms to him. at first, he hesitated, his pride and need for independence making him pause. but then, after a beat, he stepped into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

he wasn’t usually one for big displays of affection, but in moments like these, when everything felt like it was closing in on him, he let himself rely on you. the weight of him against you was grounding, and you could feel the tension in his body start to ease, little by little, as he held you close.

“it’s okay to need this,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “you don’t always have to carry everything on your own.”

he didn’t say anything, but his grip tightened slightly, and you knew that was his way of agreeing. he didn’t always have the words, but you didn’t need them. just being there, being his quiet place to land, was enough.

after a while, he pulled back just enough to look down at you, his brow furrowed but softer now, like the storm inside him had started to calm. “you’re good at this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“at what?” you asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

“making me feel like everything’s gonna be okay.” his voice was quiet, but there was a warmth in it that made your chest tighten.

“that’s because it is, baby.” you replied, leaning into his touch. “even on days like this, you’ve got me, and i’m not going anywhere.”

he didn’t respond right away, just studied you with that intense gaze of his, like he was trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. then, with a small sigh, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than usual. it was his way of saying thank you without actually saying the words.

“you wanna watch a movie?” you suggested, sensing that he needed something simple, something familiar to wind down.

he nodded, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah… that sounds good.”

the two of you made your way to the couch, and bucky settled in beside you, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders as you started the movie. he didn’t say much throughout the film, but every now and then, he’d shift a little closer, his body relaxing into yours more and more as the minutes passed.

by the time the credits rolled, he was fully reclined, his head resting against your shoulder, eyes half-closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips. you ran your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away from him.

“feel better?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. “thanks, doll.”

“anytime, james,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

he didn’t respond, but the way his hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours as he drifted off to sleep, said everything.

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[hksdlgsyappage]

Christmas Bindings

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Genre: Smut

CW: rope bunny, rigger, fingering, oral (f receiving)

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: In a candlelit studio, Spencer's gifts his partner a new toy for them to try this Christmas season.

It was a chilly December evening when you arrived at Spencer Reid's apartment, the crisp winter air still clinging to your coat. He greeted you warmly, pulling you into a tight embrace that lingered just a moment longer than usual. There was an unmistakable sparkle in his emerald eyes as he helped you shed your outer layers.

"I'm glad you could make it tonight," Spencer said, his voice low and rich with implication. "I have a special surprise planned for us." He led you by the hand into the dimly lit living room, where a roaring fire crackled invitingly in the hearth. The space had been transformed into a cozy winter wonderland, with plush blankets draped over the couch, mugs of steaming hot cocoa waiting on the coffee table, and twinkling fairy lights strung along the bookshelves.

In the center of it all stood a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, its branches heavy with ornaments and tinsel. But it was the long, slender box wrapped in glittering gold paper that caught your eye. Spencer noticed your gaze and a slow, sensual smile spread across his handsome face.

"Ah, I see you've spotted my special gift," he purred, retrieving the box from beneath the tree. He turned to face you, emerald eyes smoldering with barely contained desire as he presented it to you. "Open it."

With trembling fingers, you carefully unwrapped the present, your heart racing with anticipation. Inside, nestled in a bed of soft velvet, lay a spool of shimmering, iridescent cord. But these were no ordinary lights - they pulsed and glowed with an otherworldly inner light, promising pleasure beyond imagination.

Spencer took the glowing rope from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours and sending a jolt of electricity through your skin. "This isn't just any old rope," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "It glows so I can make you my own personal Christmas tree."

He began to slowly wind the cord around your wrist, the cool metal of the fastenings a stark contrast to the warmth of his calloused fingertips. Each revolution sent a pleasant tingling sensation spiraling up your arm, igniting nerve endings you never knew existed.

As he worked, Spencer pressed himself against your back, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You could feel the hard planes of his chest, the rapid thrum of his heartbeat syncing with your own.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as his skilled hands continued their sensual task. The rope criss-crossed over your collarbone, dipping teasingly into the valley between your breasts before encircling each one separately, the pulsing light intensifying with each loop until your skin seemed to glow from within.

Spencer's voice was a low, seductive rumble as he whispered filthy promises against your ear. "I'm going to decorate you like the most beautiful Christmas tree, my love. Every inch of you will shine and sparkle, aching for my touch..." His hands slid lower, skimming over your ribs, your stomach, before hooking into the waistband of your pants. "Tell me, do you want to be mine?"

Your breath hitched as Spencer's words washed over you, stoking the flames of desire burning in your core. "Yes," you breathed, arching into his touch. "I want to be yours, completely. Decorate me, claim me, make me yours in every way possible."

Emboldened by your consent, Spencer's hands made quick work of your remaining clothing, peeling away fabric until you stood bare before him, adorned only by the intricate web of glowing rope. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, emerald eyes darkening with lust as they raked over your illuminated form.

"You're exquisite," he growled appreciatively. "A work of art." Slowly, deliberately, he began to trail the rope down your body, circling your navel, dipping teasingly below your waistband before continuing its journey down your thighs.

As the rope wound lower, Spencer dropped to his knees before you, bringing his face level with your most intimate area. He looked up at you through thick lashes, his expression one of pure, unadulterated hunger. "I think it's time I unwrap my gift properly," he purred, nuzzling his cheek against your thigh.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. Then, without warning, his tongue delved between your folds, lapping at your essence with long, slow strokes. The dual sensations of his mouth and the pulsing rope sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins, making your head fall back with a moan.

Spencer groaned against you, the vibrations adding another layer of intensity to his ministrations.

As Spencer's talented tongue explored your most intimate depths, waves of intense pleasure radiated outward from your core, causing your entire body to quiver and tense. The glowing ropes seemed to pulse in rhythm with your racing heartbeat, their ethereal light growing brighter with each flick of his tongue against your sensitive flesh.

Your fingers tangled in his silky hair, gripping tightly as you held him close, silently urging him on. Each drag of his tongue along your slit sent electric shocks of bliss zinging up your spine, coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach. The wet heat of his mouth contrasted deliciously with the cool kiss of the ropes binding you, creating a dizzying sensory overload.

Lost in a haze of ecstasy, your hips began to rock subtly against Spencer's face, seeking more of that maddeningly pleasurable friction. Soft mewls and gasps spilled from your lips, echoing obscenely in the quiet room. The firelight played across your skin, highlighting the sheen of sweat and the way your muscles tensed and fluttered with each pass of his tongue.

Spencer growled low in his throat, the sound muffled but felt deeply as he redoubled his efforts. He sealed his lips around your throbbing clit, suckling gently while two long fingers pushed inside your dripping channel. They curled and stroked along your inner walls, finding that perfect spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

The combination of his skilled mouth and probing fingers quickly became too much to bear.

Your body drew taut as a bowstring, every muscle pulled impossibly tight as the coil of tension in your core reached its breaking point. A strangled cry tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, white-hot pleasure searing through your nerves. Your inner walls clamped down rhythmically around Spencer's fingers, rippling and fluttering as you came undone.

The glowing ropes seemed to flare brilliantly with each spasm, bathing the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. Your skin flushed and glistened, pearlescent in the firefight as you shuddered and bucked against Spencer's face, lost to everything but the overwhelming ecstasy consuming you.

Slowly, gradually, the aftershocks subsided, leaving you boneless and panting.

As the last tremors faded, Spencer gentled his touches, placing soft kisses along your inner thighs and up your stomach before rising to his feet. He gathered you into his arms, holding you close as you trembled against him, basking in the afterglow.

"I love watching you come apart like that," he murmured, nuzzling into your hair. "So beautiful, so responsive... You take my breath away."

His hands roamed your sides almost reverently, tracing the patterns left by the ropes. With careful movements, he began to unwind them, letting the cord pool at your feet until you stood bare once more, marked only by the faintest redness where the bindings had been.

Spencer cupped your face, tilting it up to meet his heated gaze. "You're incredible,"