#silhouetted-beauty

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

my propellor, boston 08/05/2009

[littlepawz]

Full Moon Rising over the road from Yosemite in California’s Sierra Nevada range.

[aethersea]

on the bright side, I cut my hair the other day and I look so cute rn

[acourtofquestions]

“There was something sad about her-sitting so still with her legs against her chest, the moonlight coloring her hair silver. No bold, swaggering expressions strutted across her face as the glow of the castle rippled in her eyes.

He found her beautiful, if a bit strange and sour. It was something in the way that her eyes sparked when she looked at something lovely in the landscape. He couldn't understand it.

She stared at the castle unflinchingly, her form silhouetted against the blazing brightness that sat on the edge of the Avery River. Clouds gathered above them and she raised her head. Through a clearing in the swirling mass, a cluster of stars could be seen. He couldn't help thinking that they gazed down at her.

No, he had to remember she was an assassin with the blessing of a pretty face and sharp wits. She washed her hands with blood, and was just as likely to slit his throat as offer him a kind word. And she was his Champion. She was here to fight for him--and for her freedom. And nothing more. He lay down, his hand still upon his sword, and fell asleep.

Still, the image haunted his dreams throughout the night: a lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back.”

[snelvindbaar]

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[theseimmortalcoils]

Ethereal veiled figure. Source unknown.

[kymsys]

'It was late spring, the first time all year that the sunshine had any real strength behind it. Satoru was wittering on about something inane as always — Tentomon or something equally ridiculous.

There was nothing special about the moment. Not really. Except for the fact that Satoru had shrugged off his jacket in the heat. It was draped around his shoulders just so, exposing the long column of his throat, pale after a long winter. Really, there was nothing special about the moment. But when Suguru looked at the boy silhouetted against the spring sky, bright and blue and boundless and beautiful — just like his eyes, Suguru thought — his heart skipped a beat all the same. With all the sight afforded to him, Satoru never missed a thing. So it was risky, what Suguru did. Later, when he was looking at his new phone wallpaper under the cover of darkness, grinning like an idiot, he'd wonder how he ever got away with it. Yet, if Suguru's yearning to capture that perfectly ordinary moment forever was stronger than all reason, perhaps it was stronger than the Six Eyes, too. After all, not even Satoru could stop time.' - by my beloved @fushiglow ♥

(( also glo says: FUN FACT! Tentomon is voiced by Suguru's VA — ergo it's Satoru's favourite Digimon, obviously )) ---------------------------------------------------------

freshly added headcanons: • gojo at some point randomly barged into sugurus room and put glowy stickers all over his ceiling • suguru has gojo as his phone wallpaper, but keeps it a secret • suguru is a hamasaki ayumi fan • the cinnamoroll phone charm is from gojo who spent almost an eternity getting that out of a gatcha machine for him • they were happy

[bananafire11]

OH MY GOSH PINAAAAA!!!!

"No man can walk out of his own story"

Western AU belongs to the amazing @bananafire11!! Go check their work! <3

[inupibaldspot]

Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky

Gojo first met you when you where four.

He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.

Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.

He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’

But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.

Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.

The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.

That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.

And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.

Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.

Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.

Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.

But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?

Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.

And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.

You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.

Were you treating him like everyone else after all?

“Gojo?”

Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”

“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.

“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”

“That’s just too bad—!”

From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.

Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.

Where as Shoko had a blast!

She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.

Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.

“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.

Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.

He looks away.

No, too cute.

He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”

Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.

He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.

Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.

But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.

Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’

How stupid!

Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.

He meets you again though.

12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.

But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.

You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.

His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”

“Say it again.”

“Huh…?”

“My name. Satoru…”

You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.

“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”

before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.

Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.

“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.

The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.

But you?

Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Mesmerized.

Pairing: Yandere!Lyney x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 0.8k.

TW: Hypnosis, Unhealthy Relationships, General Lose of Autonomy, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Stalking, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

“You’re getting crueler, brother.”

Lynette watched you stir at the sound of her voice, nearly identical to that of your dearly beloved, but you slackened as soon as you realized it was only his sister, melting back into place against Lyney’s side. Your expression was one of vacant bliss; all glassy eyes and careless smiles, worry only visible in the dark circles laced under your eyes, the pained creases folded into either corner of your mouth. A poor imitation, altogether. You looked more like yourself when you were angry.

Lyney hummed, resting his head on your shoulder. As if trained to, you cooed softly and raised a hand, carding your fingers through his hair as he spoke, self-satisfaction heavy in his voice. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Is it cruel to want to spend time with one’s dearly cherished?”

“Father said not to let the public see them until—”

“—until we’ve fallen in love,” Lyney finished. It was a clipped summary, to say the least. In reality, Lord Arlecchino’s order had played more closely to the tune of ‘until you’ve collared your pet properly’, but admittedly, Lynette might’ve missed something. She and Freminet had been listening from the other side of a steel door, and Lyney hadn’t been eager to discuss their conversation after her lecture ended. “And I’m sure, if you bothered to ask, you’d already know that we’re quite in love. Aren’t we, beautiful?”

“Quite in love,” you parroted. There was something strange about your inflection, as if you were trying to speak in a language you hadn’t yet mastered, but Lynette chose not to dwell on it.

“And I’d hardly call this the public,” Lyney went on, when Lynette made it clear that she had yet to be impressed. He made a quick, sweeping gesture to the rest of the backstage area – as if the technicians and stage-hands rushing between lighting rigs and half-assembled props were no more real than the silhouetted figures painted onto the set dressing they were hauling into place. “Think of it as… a trial run, to see how much we’ve improved. If everything goes well tonight, perhaps we’ll be able to attend Father’s next banquet together, too. I’ve been dying to introduce them to the rest of our family – preferably without all the screaming and biting, this time.”

That, Lynette could admit, would probably be for the best. She still had a bruise in the shape of your teeth on her left wrist from the day she’d met you, but Lyney still claimed it’d been one of your better first impressions.

“I’ve always wanted to see one of your shows.” You were cupping Lyney’s face, now, using your thumb to draw tender circles into his cheek. “I’ve always loved the opera. You’re playing the male lead, right?”

Lynette pursed her lips, her eyes widening slightly as she turned her attention pointedly towards her brother. He looked away. “I’m still working out the kinks. By this time next week, it should all be right as rain.”

Reluctantly, Lynette let her attention shift back to you. Your sleeves were long, dense with lace and tulle, but a patch of reddened, raw skin where the shackle had been wrapped around your wrist was just barely visible underneath the frivolous material. There was a slight tremble in your stiff shoulders, and when she looked closely, she could see that you were swaying; your legs weak from disuse, barely able to hold your own weight. Her brother, on the other hand – she could remember the last time she’d seen him smiling so widely. He been in a state of pure, untethered euphoria since the moment you were dragged, kicking and swearing, into one of the Fatui’s lesser-used underground holding facilities, and she rarely saw him without a glint in his eye and a light flush painted over her cheeks. It was almost upsetting, to see a face so much like her own so distorted. If she hadn’t been so used to his sudden flurries of passion, she might’ve been disturbed.

“It can’t last.” Lyney straightened, but she didn’t give him a chance to cut in. “The—the trance, I mean. You’re a magician, not a hypnotist. It’s going to wear off, eventually.”

“I’ve always hated stage magic,” you muttered, dreamily. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I hate feeling like I’m the only person who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It doesn’t need to last forever, just long enough.” This time, it was Lyney who caught your chin in his hand, pulling you just close enough for a quick, shallow kiss. Lynette looked away before she could be forced to endure yet another unabashed show of affection, but she could still hear him far too clearly when he spoke seconds later, his voice now nearly distant as your own.

“Until we both manage to forget how we could ever live apart.”

[homunculus-argument]

Just once in my life I would love to see a movie setting a scene with all the clichés of Oh Look We're In The Middle East - a desert view with the silhouetted figures of camel riders against a bright blazing sunrise, alternating city views of gorgeous islamic architecture and dingy bazaar streets, a close-up shot of sand dunes gently shifting in the wind, with that one specific eerily beautiful One Woman Wail playing in the background. You know the one.

And then the shot suddenly cuts to her. All the other background music fades out, and it's just this random woman standing on the roof of her house, vocalising for no apparent reason. A neighbour sticks his head out of a window like "ma'am can you stop that. We're trying to have breakfast here."

[atzaurora]

in need for soft sex with lots, LOTS of kisses with seonghwa please please

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] ��𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒯𝒉𝒆 𝒞𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.﹙박성화﹚ (1.5k)

𖥔 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚. Having soft sex with Seonghwa, which includes getting lots and lots of kisses in between... ➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈. fem!reader x seonghwa; dating ➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆. imagine (smut) .ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ. smut, MDNI!!! unprotected sex, manual stimulation, oral sex, m & f receiving, multiple orgasms

❥ 𝒂/𝒏: I hope this is what you had in mind! sorry it took me so long, I needed to focus on work a bit more recently, so I'm still working on some requests, pls be patient :3 enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]! ; [𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here! ; [about me] + [guidelines]!

Seonghwa took your hand gently, leading you toward your shared bedroom with a quiet sense of urgency. The anticipation between you both hung in the air like an unspoken promise, electrifying and thick with desire. As he opened the door, the scene before you made your breath hitch—a room softly illuminated by flickering candlelight, casting warm, golden shadows across the walls. The dim glow danced across the space, creating an intimate and romantic atmosphere, one that spoke of the care and thought Seonghwa had put into preparing this moment. ── ࣪˖ MORE UNDER THE CUT

Your eyes widened slightly as you took it all in, the quiet beauty of the room only amplifying the excitement building within you. As you neared the edge of the bed, you turned to face him, your gaze locking with his. The look in your eyes conveyed everything without a single word. Seonghwa stood tall before you, his figure silhouetted against the soft light from the hallway. His expression was calm but intense, and when you reached up to trace the sharp line of his jaw, your fingertips trailing over the warmth of his skin, you could feel his breath catch slightly.

His dark eyes searched yours, asking for permission without words, waiting for you to invite him closer. You responded with a slight nod, your heart racing, your breath already quickening with anticipation. That was all he needed.

Seonghwa leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both soft and insistent, the kind of kiss that made heat bloom deep in your belly and sent shivers coursing through your veins. His hands, warm and strong, found their way to your waist, pulling you against him with a gentle but firm grip. You responded instinctively, your arms wrapping around his neck, holding him close as the kiss deepened. His lips parted yours, his tongue slipping inside in a slow, deliberate dance, tasting you with a hunger that sent your pulse skyrocketing.

There was something so familiar yet thrilling about him—he tasted faintly of mint, the subtle trace of the tea he'd been drinking earlier, a flavor that was uniquely his. His hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves with a tenderness that made your skin tingle in the wake of his touch. A quiet moan escaped your lips, vibrating between you as he deftly unbuttoned your shirt, his fingers working with practiced ease. As the fabric fell away, exposing your bare skin to the cool air, Seonghwa’s mouth left a trail of feather-light kisses along your neck and down to your collarbone, each one igniting a fire deep within you.

Gently, he urged you backward until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. You sat down without hesitation, watching as Seonghwa knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was intense, filled with desire, and it sent a thrill through you as he slid your shirt off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. The lacy bra you had chosen for the evening caught his attention, and a soft groan escaped him as he reached behind you, unclasping it with ease and letting it fall away to reveal your breasts.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he placed a tender kiss on each peak, sending jolts of pleasure rippling through you. His hands continued to explore, sliding down your sides until they found the button of your jeans. In one smooth motion, he unbuttoned and unzipped them, slowly peeling them off along with your panties, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

His lips pressed soft, lingering kisses down the length of your stomach, his touch reverent, as if savoring every inch of you. His breath fanned over the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your body already humming with desire. When he paused at the juncture of your legs, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with intent. He didn’t need to ask; your silent nod was all the confirmation he needed.

The first touch of his tongue against your most sensitive spot sent shockwaves through your body, your head falling back as a gasp escaped your lips. His tongue was slow, deliberate, as it traced circles over your clit, the sensation both torturous and intoxicating. You fisted the bedsheets in your hands, desperate for something to ground you as he explored you with expert precision. Every flick, every swirl of his tongue brought you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the tension building inside you.

Seonghwa’s hands held your thighs gently, his touch grounding as he continued his ministrations. The sound of your soft whimpers and ragged breaths filled the room, mingling with the quiet crackle of the candles. When he finally found that perfect rhythm, teasing your clit while sliding a finger inside you, your hips bucked involuntarily, your body craving more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.

He took his time, savoring every moment, watching your reactions with dark, hooded eyes as he coaxed you closer and closer to release. Your back arched off the bed as the tension within you reached its breaking point, and with a strangled cry, the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shook, your toes curling as pleasure pulsed through you in overwhelming waves.

Even as your body trembled, Seonghwa didn’t stop. He continued to kiss and lick at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your orgasm until you were breathless and spent. Only when he felt the last tremors fade did he pull away, his lips finding their way back to yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy. You could taste yourself on his lips, the mix of your arousal and his hunger driving you wild all over again.

Desperation clawed at you as you reached for him, eager to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in him completely. Your hands fumbled to discard his clothes, pushing them off with a need that made your fingers tremble. Once he was free of the last of his clothing, he hovered above you, his body a work of art in the dim candlelight. Every muscle was defined, honed by years of dance practice, and the sight of him made your pulse quicken all over again.

Seonghwa laid you back on the bed, his body pressing against yours, the warmth of his skin like a balm to your heightened senses. His lips trailed down your neck and across your chest, his hands roaming freely, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, teasing you as he took a moment to appreciate the sight of you beneath him, your body open and ready for him.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slid inside you, filling you completely. The sensation of him stretching you, the way your body responded to his, had both of you moaning in unison. Your walls clenched around him, and Seonghwa let out a ragged breath as he began to move, each thrust deep and unhurried.

His kisses became more insistent, his teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip as his pace increased, his hips rolling in a rhythm that sent you spiraling. His hands, strong and sure, roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. You could feel his muscles tensing beneath your fingertips, the sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he held himself back, his focus entirely on your pleasure.

Suddenly, his hand found its way between your legs, his thumb brushing over your clit with just enough pressure to send you over the edge once more. The combination of his thrusts and the attention to your most sensitive spot was overwhelming, and you cried out his name as you came around him, your nails digging into his back as your body clenched tight.

Seonghwa groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as your climax triggered his own. With a final thrust, he pulled out, stroking himself with quick, desperate movements as he reached his peak. The warmth of his release spilled over your hand and stomach, the sight of him lost in pleasure making your heart race all over again.

Panting, he collapsed beside you, both of you utterly spent, the flickering candlelight painting the room in shades of gold and amber. Seonghwa leaned over to kiss your forehead, his eyes soft, filled with affection and adoration. "I love you," he whispered, his voice low, sending a warm shiver through you.

You turned to him with a content smile, your heart full as you whispered back, "I love you too."

You snuggled closer, feeling his heartbeat slow to match yours, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a blanket.

[soulofapatrick]

Kiss Me Tired - Percy Jackson x Female Reader

Summary: you can't sleep so go to find your best friend - Percy

Words: 1.9k

warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

I find myself tossing and turning, the sheets tangling around my restless limbs, as elusive sleep evades me once again. The Apollo cabin is quiet, the soft hum of night almost suffocating in its stillness. Moonbeams trickle through the window, casting gentle patterns of the wooden floors. 

Grateful for being on the bottom bunk tonight, I slide from under the covers with practiced ease. The gentle thud as my feet meet the floor barely makes a sound, but each step feels amplified in the silence of the sleeping cabin. Slipping on a pair of shoes without lacing them up, I make my way to the door, my heart pounding louder than the muted thuds of my footsteps. The door creaks slightly as I ease it open, wincing at the noise before exhaling a relieved breath as it swings shut behind me. 

Staying close to the comforting cover of shadows, I weave my way through the lingering clusters of campers, their hushed conversations mixing with the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The children of Nemesis and Nyx, silhouetted against the faint glow of the campfire, seem engrossed in their own whispered discussions, oblivious to my presence as I navigate the edges of their gathering.

I skirt the edges of the Poseidon Cabin, a refuge I’ve often visited, and slip inside, grateful for the cover of darkness. The familiar scent of saltwater and adventure lingers in the air. The cabin is eerily quiet, echoing with the absence of Percy—the solitary presence that usually defines it. 

My steps echo softly against the wooden floor as I venture further in. The moonlight filters through the windows, causing elongated shadows that dance across the cabin’s interior. Percy’s empty bed confirms his absence, leaving the cabin strangely deserted. 

Curiosity propels me deeper into the cabin, my gaze landing on the backdoor open, leading to the pontoons. The moon’s silvery trail illuminates the pathway to the water’s edge, inviting and ethereal. The realisation settles in—Percy, the sole child of Poseidon, often seeks solace by the lake, where the water sings the tales of his father’s realm. 

The sight before me steal a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. Percy sits there, silhouetted against the shimmering reflection of the moon on the water, a portrait of quiet strength and contemplation. His unruly hair catches glimmers of moonlight, creating an otherworldly halo around him. 

As I draw nearer, the tranquility that envelopes him seems almost tangible. The lake mirrors the night sky, stars dancing on its surface, and Percy, the living embodiment of that serene beauty, captures my attention entirely. 

He turns at the faint rustle of my approach, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his pretty lips. His sea-green eyes, illuminated by the moon’s gentle glow, hold a depth that echoes the mysteries of the ocean. It’s mesmerising, the way he seems both a part of the night and a beacon within it. 

Percy’s messy black hair catches the moonlight in a way that makes it seem like constellations have woven themselves into the strands, each unruly wave a testament to the untamed spirit he embodies. His lightly tanned skin, kissed by the sun’s rays and caressed by the gentle breeze, holds a warmth that feels inviting even in the cool night air. 

As I settle next to him, a comfortable ease settles between us. Percy shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and I follow suit, instinctively resting my head on his shoulder. It feels oddly natural, as if this silent language of unspoken understanding has been written int he stars all along. The coolness of the night dissipates against the warmth of his presence. His shoulder, solid and reassuring beneath my head, carries the weigh of both the wards burdens and its beauty. 

His sea-green eyes, s deep and enigmatic, gaze out into the horizon, the mysteries of the universe reflecting in their depths. The seven expression on his face speaks volumes, as if he’s a silent guardian, watching over the secrets of the night.  The gentle breeze whispers secrets to the night, and I feels Percy’s arm, strong and comforting, wrap around my waist, pulling me a fraction closer to him. It’s a gesture of silent understanding, an unspoken invitation to share the weight of ur silent night-time musings. 

“Why can’t you sleep, Mouse?” Percy’s voice, soft and inquisitive, breaks the tranquil silence with my stupid nickname he made for me. His concern is palpable, yet I hesitate to divulge the true reason behind my sexlessness, my heart pounding against the confession I’m afraid to voice. 

I shift slightly, trying to evade the truth, the words catching in my throat as I struggle to articulate the turmoil within, “Just… thoughts, I guess. You know how it is.” 

But it’s a hollow response, a mere veil covering the truth that simmers beneath the surface. The mere thought of Percy and Annabeth together as a couple, a union so celebrated and cherished among demigods, twists a knot in my stomach, a painful reminder of my unspoken feelings for him. 

The fear of vulnerability and the ache of unrequited affection hold me captive in a silence that feels suffocating. I can’t bring myself to admit the ache his closeness evokes, the ache that surges every time I see them together, facing the world as a pair that everyone wants to see. The perfect couple. 

A grumble of protest escapes my lips, as I know he sees through my lie as he stays silent, a frustrated sound that I can’t seem to contain. I turn my face, burying it in the comforting crook of his neck, hoping to hide the turmoil that threatens to spill over. His chest rumbles with a soft laughter, a sound that’s both comforting and teasing, pulling me out of my momentary retreat. 

Before I realise it, his finger hooks gently under my chin, lifting my face to meet to gaze. The concern etched into his expression melts away any remaining resistance, coaxing me to open up even as my heart clenches with the vulnerability of it all. 

“Hey,” He murmurs softly, his sea-green eyes searching mine, an unspoken invitation tp share whatever weighs on my mind. 

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to dissipate. The urge to confess tugs at my heartstrings, a silent plea to unburden the ache that gnaws at me. But the words romain elusive, trapped behind a barrier of fear and insecurity. 

My heart hammers against my chest as his thumb traces a gentle path across my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seeps into the cracks of my guarded emotions. I meet his gaze, sea-green eyes holding mine in a silent conversation that speaks volumes. 

I feel myself drawn to him, my eyes inadvertently tracing the curve of his lips. The soft moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face in a way that feels almost surreal. 

As my gaze lingers on his lips, a surge of emotions—longing, fear, and a yearning for something more—swirl within me. Self-control wavers as my heart takes over, propelled by an undeniable urge to bridge the gap between us. 

Without warning, without calculation, I lean forward, closing the space between us. My lips meet his in a moment that feels both suspended in time and yet over too soon. It’s a soft, tentative touch, a leap of faith and vulnerability woven into the tender connection.

 For a heartbeat, the world stills around us, the air crackling with the unspoken truth of our shared emotions. The warmth of his lips against mine like a revelation, a stolen moment that lingers as a testament to the unspoken desires I’ve kept hidden. But, just as quickly as it happens, the weight of the moment hits me, the reality crashing down like a tidal wave. I pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, my heart thundering in my chest, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. 

“Perce… Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“ 

Before I can finish my stammered apology, the words tumbling out in a jumble of regret and confusion, Percy’s gentle touch silences my anxious ramblings. He leans in, cutting off my faltering speech with a soft yet determined press of his lips against mine. It’s a kiss that carries a subtle urgency, a reassurance woven into the tender connection that leaves me breathless and wide-eyed. 

His lips, warm and inviting, mould against mine in a way that feels both familiar and utterly new. There’s a tenderness to his touch, a silent promise of understanding and acceptance that sends a shiver down my spine. His kiss tastes like the promise of untold stories, of shared secrets whispered in the stillness of the night. 

My heart leaps in my chest, responding to his gentle yet confident touch. I reciprocate, tentatively at first, before letting myself be swept away by the overwhelming rush of emotions. My hands, initially hovering uncertainly in the space between us, find their place, one resting against his chest and the other timidly finds its way to his cheek, relishing the warmth and softness of his skin. 

His hands, strong yet tender, find their place at the small of my back, pulling me closer in an embrace that feels both reassuring and exhilarating. The closeness of our bodies, the shared warmth between us, creates a cocoon of intimacy that blurs the boundaries of friendship and something more. 

The moment lingers, suspended in a haze of shared emotions, before Percy breaks the kiss, his breath mingling with mine as he gently pulls me onto his lap. My knees rest on either side of his hips, a sudden rush of adrenaline mingling with the warmth of our closeness. Then, he guides me down, our bodies molding together in a dance of longing and unspoken desires. His hands, firm yet gentle, cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he leans in for another kiss.

This time, there's a hunger in his touch, a raw passion that ignites between us. Our lips meet again in a union fuelled by the unspoken confessions of our hearts. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a dance of lips and tongues that express the emotions we've kept buried for so long. His fervour is matched by mine as I respond eagerly, the longing I've harboured finally finding an outlet in this shared intimacy. The taste of his kiss is electrifying, a rush of emotions that consumes every inch of my being.

My hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer in a silent plea for more. Our bodies meld together, the heat of our closeness building an unspoken intensity that blurs the lines between friendship and an uncharted territory of passion.

In the soft moonlight, our embrace becomes a symphony of desire and longing, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection we've discovered. And as we lose ourselves in this intoxicating moment, the boundaries of what we were and what we might become blur in the heat of our shared passion.

“Come on sweetheart,” Percy finally pulls away, “You can sleep here tonight.” 

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[lcvemiyuki]

"seashells by the seashore" | kuroo, hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: sometimes even the smallest things remind him of you...even a pretty little seashell

warnings+tags: disgustingly cute, kurooxfem!reader, established relationship

character(s): kuroo

word count: 1183

a/n: happy father's day!...and also thank you for 250 followers!! ♡

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The sun was beating down relentlessly on the sun-bleached sand. The heat was becoming too much to bear; it felt like stepping onto a scorching desert. With the temperature rising, all you wanted was to cool down in the refreshing water of the sea and perhaps lose yourself in the simple pleasure of searching for seashells in the shallow, crystal-clear water. You began to rummage through your bag, searching for your goggles, being careful not to disturb the sleepy figure lying next to you. Kuroo was sprawled under the protective shade of a large umbrella, shades on, appearing completely relaxed.

However, he suddenly peeped one curious eye open as he noticed you getting up, heading off towards the inviting, blue sea.

“Wait up!” he called out to you, his voice filled with playful authority. He swiftly got to his feet, his toned muscles flexing attractively under the golden sunlight. He jogged over to you with ease and instinctively swept your hand into his larger one.

Hand in hand, you both walked down to the water, leaving footprints in the sand. The cool waves lapped at your feet, a refreshing contrast to the heat as you waded into the shallow area. You put on your scuba goggles and started to look for seashells. Kuroo joined in the fun, diving under a small wave to get acclimated to the cold water. The icy sea felt like a soothing balm, cooling your overheated skin.

Multiple air bubbles break the surface as Kuroo resurfaces. His dark hair, now messy from his short nap, fell into his eyes as he squinted to examine the shells. He had a grin plastered on his face, so wide and infectious it was almost as if he was up to no good.

“Look at this one,” he said, his voice filled with blatant excitement. He held up a particularly shiny shell, its surface gleaming in the sunlight. “Isn’t it pretty?”

The six-foot-three giant had no problem standing up on his own in the deeper end; he could grab the colorful shell fragments on the floor as if picking up trash on the side of the street. He simply watched as you bobbed your head up and down with a variety of seashells in your hand with each pick-up.

He found every bit of it adorable to witness.

As you gathered seashells, he kept finding ones he thought you’d like, filling his pockets with your picks. “This one’s cool, right?” he asked, handing you a small, spiral-shaped shell. “Looks like something those mermaids in—”

He glanced up after a while and saw you standing a little way off, your figure silhouetted against the setting sun. The golden glow bathed you in warm light, making you look ethereal as you swayed gently with the current. Your goggles were nowhere to be seen, probably underwater in your grasp. He took a moment to really take you in. Your head glistened from the sheen of water coating your face, and tiny droplets clung to your dampened eyelashes, occasionally falling onto your cheek. The sight of you took his breath away; like a nymph from an ancient sea tale, otherworldly and enchanting.

The colors of the sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the reflection on the water added a surreal beauty to the moment. You were a vision of serenity, a fleeting moment of perfection in the fading light.

Almost as if sensing his gaze, you turned your eyes back to him and smiled. His heart skipped a beat at the sight, and he couldn't help but grin back, his sharp features softening. He swam over to you, splashing water as he moved, not caring that it drenched your head.

“Hey, no daydreaming allowed,” he teased, his voice light and playful. “We’re on a mission to find the perfect shell, remember?”

Laughing, you splashed back at him, and in no time, it turned into a full-blown water fight. "Kuroo, you know I'm going to win this!" you called out, trying to dodge his playful attacks.

"Oh, confident much?" he teased, sing-songing, "Big talk for someone who's about to lose." With a mischievous grin, he dove underwater, the sudden silence making you momentarily tense.

You looked around, wondering where he went, only to feel his strong hands grabbing your legs. With a surprised yelp, you were pulled down into the water with him.

You surfaced together, laughing and gasping for breath, his arms still around you in a protective hold. He pulled you closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. "Gotcha," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re terrible,” you said between giggles, raking your hand through his wet hair to push it out of his face.

“Terribly good at winning water fights,” he corrected with a cheeky grin. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “I should get a trophy for that.”

His monolid eyes suddenly grew gentle as they scanned your face. He slowly lifted his hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek to wipe away the lingering water droplets.

“Oh really?” you challenged, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your eyes zeroed in on his pinkish lips. “Maybe I’ll give you a reward then.”

You leaned in slowly, your lips almost touching his, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed any words that wanted to spill out. He held his breath as you closed the gap between the two of you. Just as he started to close his eyes, anticipating the sweet contact, you quickly cupped a handful of water and splashed it right into his face.

"Sike." You slightly stuck the tip of your tongue out at him, spinning around and racing back toward the shore, laughing all the way.

He stood there, momentarily stunned, before wiping the water from his face and snorting at how incredibly childish you were. “I’m dumping all of these shells back in the ocean!” he shouted, his voice echoing over the waves as he took off after you with renewed determination.

The sound of your laughter echoed over the waves as you dashed through the water, feeling the thrill of the chase and the warmth of the sun.

Treading back onto shore, he plopped down with you on the stripped beach towels, his tan skin glistening with water droplets. As he fished in his pocket, his hand made contact with one shell in particular that caught his eye. He pulled it out, pinching it between his fingers and inspecting it closer. The shell was intricate and beautiful, its colors reflecting the soft hues of the setting sun.

The sudden flashback of you, in all of your perfection, the sun kissing your skin in a warm glow filled his mind.

“I’m keeping this one,” he said to you, sounding decidedly final as he carefully put the shell back into his surf short's pocket.

You looked at him with curiosity, a question in your eyes. “Why that one?”

He turned to you, his eyes soft and sincere, a smirk playing on his lips. “Because it reminds me of you.”

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[mya-valentine]

can i reqeust a kinich x saurian!fem reader hybrid no smut just fluff and them cuddling together (ajaw is not invited)

Whispers Beneath the Moonlight

Kinich and the Saurian hybrid had always shared a special bond, one that transcended the normal boundaries of mere companionship. It was quiet, unspoken—yet undeniably present. His strength, wisdom, and composure complemented her fierce loyalty, sharp instincts, and wild beauty. Tonight was no different.

The gentle glow of the moon filtered through the trees, casting shadows across the room. It had been a particularly grueling day, with endless meetings and discussions that neither of them found appealing. Kinich had handled it with his usual patience, while her instincts had long since been urging her to flee, to escape into the wilds where she felt most at home. But now, at last, it was just the two of them, alone in the peaceful quiet of their shared space.

Kinich sat on the edge of the bed, loosening his armor with a deep, contented sigh. His golden eyes softened as they found the reader, her tall form silhouetted in the moonlight as she stood by the window, gazing out at the tranquil night. Her tail flicked absently behind her, her scales catching the light and giving her an almost ethereal glow.

“You seemed lost in thought tonight,” he remarked, his voice low, resonant. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her sharp eyes softening when they met his. “Too much politics,” she muttered, moving to join him. Her claws clicked softly against the wooden floor as she crossed the room, the cool breeze ruffling her hair and brushing against her skin.

Kinich smiled at her words, nodding in agreement. “Yes. It can be tiresome.”

She sat down beside him, her body warm and solid next to his own. Despite her fearsome appearance—sharp fangs, scales running down her arms and legs, a long, sinuous tail—there was a gentleness to her when she was with him, a calm that she rarely showed to anyone else. Her claws, though deadly, rested lightly on the bed beside him, careful not to damage the soft sheets.

Without a word, Kinich reached out and gently took her hand in his, the warmth of his skin contrasting against her cooler, textured scales. She glanced down at their entwined fingers, the size of his hand almost dwarfing hers, yet there was nothing but softness in his touch.

“You’ve always been so calm about it all,” she mused, leaning back slightly as her tail flicked lazily behind her. “The politics, the pressure... It never seems to get to you.”

Kinich chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” He paused, glancing at her with that steady, serene expression he always wore. “But I understand why it bothers you. It’s not your world.”

She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer with ease. Her heart, once racing with the frustration and energy of the day, began to slow, her body relaxing against his warmth.

“I don’t belong in that world,” she admitted softly. “I’m... not like them.” Her words held a hint of melancholy, of the feeling that she was always somehow apart, different.

Kinich’s grip on her tightened just slightly, a comforting gesture. “You don’t need to be like them. You are who you are, and that’s enough.” His voice was low, steady, and filled with quiet conviction. He never tried to change her or mold her into something she wasn’t. That was part of what she loved about him.

For a while, they sat like that, the silence between them comforting and familiar. The only sound was the soft rustle of the leaves outside and the quiet, rhythmic beat of their hearts. Eventually, Kinich shifted, pulling her fully into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around her as she rested against his chest.

“You know, sometimes I wish we could just stay like this,” he murmured into her hair, his fingers tracing the curve of her back, where soft skin gave way to smooth scales. “Away from everything. Just us.”

His words made her smile, a rare, soft expression crossing her face. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “I wouldn’t mind that,” she whispered, her voice teasing, but with an undercurrent of sincerity.

Kinich chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through his chest and into her body. “I thought you’d say that.”

She laughed softly, the sound a low rumble from deep within her chest. Her tail curled around his leg, an unconscious gesture of affection. He had long since grown used to the sensation of her tail wrapping around him—it was a part of who she was, and to him, every part of her was beautiful.

Gently, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of him. His fingers continued their soothing path up and down her back, each stroke slow and deliberate, as though he were committing every scale, every curve, to memory.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his skin.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his breath warm against her hair.

For a long while, they simply held each other, the world outside forgotten. In his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and completely at ease—things she rarely allowed herself to feel. His presence was a constant, a steady anchor in the storm that often raged within her.

As the night deepened, she shifted slightly, her eyes half-lidded with contentment. “Kinich,” she murmured, her voice soft and filled with a rare vulnerability. “Do you ever... wish things were different?”

His fingers stilled for a moment, then resumed their gentle motion. “Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “But not when I’m with you.” He tilted her chin up, his golden eyes locking onto hers. “When I’m with you, everything feels right.”

She gazed at him, her heart swelling with emotion. He was always so calm, so sure of himself, and in moments like this, she realized just how much she needed that calm—needed him.

Without another word, she leaned up and kissed him, her lips soft against his. Kinich responded immediately, his hand cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his touch firm yet tender. Their bond, once unspoken, now felt palpable, a connection that ran deeper than either of them could fully understand.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathing a little heavier, Kinich rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. “You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

She smiled softly, her heart full. “And you to me.”

With that, they settled back into each other’s arms, the world outside fading away as they drifted into a peaceful, shared slumber. There, in the warmth of Kinich’s embrace, she knew she had found her home.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[genandguice]

── 𝜗𝜚 blue flower 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ summary: 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 & 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳. 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘪𝘵

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ warnings: 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴/𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘥𝘶𝘣𝘤𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯��, 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ wc: 1.2k

“hey!”

the voice nearly makes you trip over your porch steps. any man’s voice calling out after you in the dark would stall your heart, but this one baits, hooks and reels it with less than a syllable. deep, velvet baritone, laced with permanent dejection, desperate for affection. begging, the same as his eyes beg when you turn to greet him.

he lived in the house beside you, just as rundown as yours, just as cheap to rent. he lingered on his own stairs, cigarette in hand, watching you with eyes so blue they glowed in the night. you didn’t know him, not much anyway. you knew his name was james, you knew he worked on cars, that he was at least 10 years older, that he sold you pot, & that the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes made your cheeks heat.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, drinking up the sight of your big, pure eyes.

he had been thinking, maybe it’s good that you weren’t coming over to buy as much anymore. maybe you were on a better path, as far away from him as possible. a little girl as sweet, smart and beautiful as you didn’t need his poisoning.

but then he saw you.

hobbling down the street, just drunk enough to feel safe walking alone so late and vulnerable. he’d seen you hobbling up his stairs the same way so many times before, always in your prettiest little outfits, needing that soothing high after a night out. those eyes looking up at him as you giggle, bashfully asking him to roll it up, tipsy fingers too clumsy to do it yourself.

taking a seat while he rolled inevitably led to him offering another drink, which inevitably led him to learning you were a chatty drunk, in great contrast to your usual reserved, cop & hop manner. which inevitably led to him growing fond of you.

you were dolled up nice tonight. hair cut. curves silhouetted by the street light.

how could he stop himself?

“c’mere,” james tilts his chin up, beckoning you over with the hand that lifts to bring his cigarette to his plump lips. your heart pounds as you cross the small distance, throbbing quickly surging between your legs as you come before him, towering over you, his eyes raking over your body. the rum flowing through your veins does no help; heating your body and lowering your inhibitions. that little voice in the back of your head that normally told you he was dangerous growing quieter until it was nowhere to be found.

“come closer. what, you scared’a me?” the accent that coats his words somehow coats his laugh too. you can’t keep your shy smile down as you join him on the stairs, avoiding his eyes, breathing in the smell of his cigarette and his sweat. his dirty, calloused hand comes to your chin, lifts you up to meet his eye.

“you’re quiet tonight.”

you can’t trust yourself to speak. your mind is filled with him, neurons, synapses, receptors all lit up and flashing at his touch on your skin. and then it’s gone, he steps away, scratching his head.

“you still smoke?” he asks, his eyebrows raising in annoyance at your silence, but the way his eyes glint, you see that same pleading in them you always had, searching for the cure to some cruel curse of perpetual tragedy, and found the true source of his annoyance.

“yeah,” your voice comes out soft with the new weight of the ache in your heart, competing with the ache in your core. “sorry i haven’t been around. i’m broke,” your slightly slurred words, laugh, and bluntness confirm your activities for the night, and manage to break a smile from him.

“well you know,” he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words, “you’re always welcome to come hang out and smoke with me. free of charge.” he says, hand coming to rest on the railing behind you, intoxicatingly close. your pussy strains as if you were magnets just out of reach of each other.

even up close he towers over you, makes you feel delightfully vulnerable. he could snatch you up and carry you inside with ease. whether you liked it or not.

“that’s a big investment,” you giggle, and the lilting tune strikes him right in the gut, snaps something inside him.

“we could work out a deal.” he says, voice dropping and slowing, rumbling from his throat like a vintage engine. he doesn’t hide the way his eyes scour your lips, your cleavage, visibly darkened when they meet back up with yours. “down payment type situation,” his hand comes to caress and rest on your waist, smoothly drawing you closer to him.

“james,” your eyelids flutter as you find yourself close enough to smell the beer on his breath. “what- what do you mean?”

“you know exactly i fuckin’ mean,” he says, gripping your waist to keep you close as his other hand leaves the railing to slide up the back of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt. he leans to speak lowly in your ear, “don’t play stupid, girl,” he kisses you there as his rough hand pushes your panties to the side, soaking up your gasps at the way his finger spreads the wetness leaking from you.

“see,” he chuckles against you, “ohhh, you want it,” he groans as he slides his finger into you, holding it there, feeling the way you clench around him, shuddering a curse under his breath.

he strokes your walls, fondling you purely for his own pleasure, and it makes your legs weak.

“god you’re so fucking wet,” james tributes, dick swelling and twitching in his pants. his free hand slides down your waist to grip your ass, grinding his erection into your hip, his finger quickly becomes less than enough.

“that’s why you’re so quiet, huh?” he laughs in your ear as his sticky finger slips out to rub your clit. “can’t think of anything except how badly you need to be fucked?” you whimper at his words, gripping the sleeve of his shirt, his public assault on your throbbing bundle of nerves quickly powering up your electric crash.

he groans as you gush around him, feeling how your creamy arousal drips down his hand. “so what do you wanna do, baby?” he asks, as if it were a real fucking negotiation, as if you weren’t sliding your cunt on his sloppy finger. “wanna fuck me for a half pound?”

when he’s met with only crescendoing whimpers, his hands retreat.

“fuck!” you cry, barely able to brace the first searing wave of having your orgasm suddenly ripped away before james is aggressively lifting your chin, hand tight on your jaw, your needy whines shooting straight to his stiff cock.

“tell me you want me,” he pants, those pleading eyes locked on your pure ones, voice softened, before he harshens again- “and mean it. tell me you want me to fuck the brains right outta ya pretty little head.” you know what he needs.

“please, james,” your hands grasp his biceps, doe eyes welling up, pussy fluttering with your orgasm still on the horizon. “i need you.”