#to cover the salt completely I do not taste it at all

[fruitless-vain]

Switching to a larger water bottle has been the best decision yet.

I am drinking the same amount of fluid in a day, as prescribed, but because I only have to drink 3 of this bottle to hit that dose it’s easier to do? The other bottle I had to drink 5 of and it was such a weird scheduling brain problem?

Like I have to drink 1 by bird time, 2 by the dog walk, 3 by lunch, 4 by end of second bird time, and the fifth by dinner was so overwhelming to cram in and if I didn’t get it done by that schedule my head was like Nope You Can’t Get It Done Now

But 3 big ones? Is just drink one casually and slowly throughout the morning. Oop I finished it pretty quick and am thirsty now I’ll fill the second and sip on that throughout the day. oh dang it’s evening bird time already I’ll fill the third time oh dang bird time isn’t even done yet and it’s empty? Shit how’d that happen.

There being that much liquid just sitting there makes it so easy to just Drink When Thirsty instead of “ah crap it’s empty I don’t want to get up right now and fill it I’ll just wait it out” and forget I was thirsty or fall behind schedule.

Plus I cram 2 grams of salt per cup, can’t taste it with a little bit of juice crystals, I could probably stick a third in and not notice? And that would be nearly my whole dose in that case! Insane. No more feeling nauseous bc of the sheer quantity of salt pills every couple hours. Wild.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

At no point ever has Batman shown any sexual desire in a man All of his partners are female Shipping a canonical straight man with another canonical straight man is a disservice to his character and requires Superman a character with a code of honor and upstanding morals to cheat on his canonical wife in order for an extremely out of character relationship to take place

Cozy Soup

Prep Time: 15-20 min

Cook Time: 30-50 min

Serves: 6-8 people

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef or turkey

3/4 cup chopped onion

-Even if you hate onions, I promise they'll taste amazing in this

3/4 cup chopped carrots

1 tsp dried parsley

1 tsp dried basil

4 tbsp butter

3 cups chicken broth

4 cups peeled and diced potatoes

1/4 cup all purpose flour

2 cups Velveta cheese, cubed

-Alternatively, you can do 2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese instead

1 1/2 cups milk

3/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

1/4 cup sour cream

Instructions

1. Brown ground meat in a 3-4 qtr saucepan. Once it's fully cooked, drain the meat and set it aside.

2. In the original saucepan, add 1 tbsp butter, chopped onion and carrots, dried basil, and dried parsley. Saute until all are tender.

3. Add broth, potatoes, and meat to saucepan. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover with a lid, and simmer for 10-15 min until everything is tender.

4. In a separate skillet, melt remaining butter and add flour. Cook and stir for 3-5 min or until the mixture becomes bubbly. Add to soup and bring it to a boil. Cook and stir again for 2 additional minutes. Reduce heat to low.

5. Stir in the cheese, milk, salt and pepper. Cook and stir until cheese completely melts. Remove from heat and blend in sour cream. Serve.

Optional Garnishes

-Bacon bits

-Feta crumbles

-Shredded cheddar cheese

-Chives

Additional

Highly recommend garlic bread to go alongside this dish. It's pure heaven.

[ontologicalmoki]

easy pan chicken! (soft, edible, tasty, not at all rubbery or chewy, you’ll wow your guests but also just like. Have some chicken, which is a cheap and easy and delicious protein)

this works best with about as much raw chicken as you can fit in the bottom of the pan you’re using. I really do cram it in there. If you’re only cooking for yourself, you can use a small pan, or just have leftovers, or just only put one piece of chicken in there, but I find it’s easier to burn it or make it too dry that way.

Also I like using boneless skinless thighs best, but it does work with any cut of chicken, bones or no bones. You can dice it before you start, stirring instead of flipping when you get there, but I find it easier to dice afterwards.

(your pan should be cast iron or enamelled or non stick. If you’re using one that isn’t, you will basically need to turn the chicken into a soup base to keep your pan from being a nightmare to wash.)

once you have obtained suitable chicken and a pan to put it in!:

Heat the pan over medium heat and put in enough butter to cover the bottom of the pan. Wait till the butter melts.

over the melted butter, put a layer of salt. You’re unlikely to do too much, meat needs a lot of salt.

add the chicken. You want it to sizzle when you put it in, but it’ll turn out fine if it doesn’t.

to each piece of chicken add a splash of vinegar. I like rice wine vinegar, but literally any works. So does vodka.

layer of seasoning. My favorite is a bottle of pre mixed “garlic butter and white wine” seasoning, but anything works. Chicken is not picky. Options include:

Paprika and garlic powder

Italian seasoning and garlic powder

tarragon, coriander, and garlic powder (noticing a theme here?)

curry powder

just garlic powder

garlic powder and parsley

whatever you feel like today

then put a lid on it. If you don’t have any lids that approximate your pan, a sheet of tinfoil works. Heck a plate works. Just cover the chickies loosely. then forget about them until they start to brown on the bottom. This takes like 5-10 min depending on how much chicken is in there and how thick your pan is. You’ll be able to smell it before it burns irreparably (it’s artistically blackened, thank you very much) and it’s fine if it fails to actually brown, so don’t worry too much about this step. Just leave the lid on for a little while while you do other stuff (boil noodles, make veggies, stuff like that.)

Flip the chickens over. Add butter or vinegar if the pan is for some reason completely dry, but this should not happen. Turn the heat down if it does. Cover it back up.

when you come back to it, again 5-10 minutes later, check if it’s done. Do this by cutting into the two biggest pieces and making sure the inside is white like cooked chicken and not at all pink like raw chicken. No pink is allowed. This is not burgers. Put the lid back on if there’s any thing that looks raw. If you’re paranoid about this and unsure, you can just like. Dice the chicken up in the pan. Or use a thermometer I guess.

your chicken is edible! If there’s seasoning stuck to the pan add a tablespoon of water or lemon juice or wine if you’re feeling fancy (do not use rice wine it caramelises. Which actually tastes ok) while it’s still hot and scrape the seasoning up. You can then mix it back into the chicken. This chicken can be served like this, or you can dice it up, or you can turn the heat down a little, cook it a little longer, and then shred it with a fork for shredded chicken.

tldr!:

medium heat

In order:

butter

salt

chicken

Splash vinegar

seasoning (whatever)

cover it

cool till brown, flip, cook till done.

voila, you can pan fry chicken! I have never yet made it inedible doing it this way, you really won’t mess it up.

[bigwishes]

I’m back. I can’t help it, I’m completely addicted to your magic. Watching you grant so many wishes and transform so many people is incredible.

Work recently has been driving me crazy. All I want is to forget all about it and become a big dumb bodybuilder. So big and stupid that I won’t even be capable of stressing over work. I’ll only know how to big bigger.

Please grant me my wish, oh great one!

Sure! sorry it took so long, a lot of things get lost in the request pile so hopefully this will be a great surprise.

You want to be a big dumb bodybuilder? easy! you only want to know how to get bigger? well I can definitely arrange that for you.

You are at home laying in bed when you start to feel a strange and sudden sensation as your biceps suddenly begin to inflate with size and muscle. Veins on your arms stick out as they visible pump blood around your body. You sit up feeling the slight sting of your stretching and widening body, feeling the trembling sensation of rapidly expanding bone, muscle and sinew.

You can't help but let out a slight moan as you hear your shirt rip around your back. You look down at your legs and see your expanding thighs tightly hug your shorts before starting to slit them.

You flex you bicep and watch it tear through your shirt like it was nothing. You pull of the tattered strands of fabric from your body and go stand in front of you mirror admiring your new form.

You hear a small voice in your head

"work out now" it whispers deep into your mind

You ignore it, focusing on your new size and strength, looking at yourself you get turned on feeling as your pants tighten and you dick gets harder. You pull your pants down and ready yourself for a wild time of pleasure and flexing when a potent tingling pulses out from your pelvis. As you grab your manhood it begins to rapidly shrink, you let out a shriek and begin to panic, desperately trying to stop it but there is nothing you can do as it shrinks out of your grip.

the voice returns, now booming in your head

"WORK OUT NOW"

You drop to the ground as if you were commanded by an army drill sergeant and begin to pump out as many push ups as you can.

up and down, up and down, up and down,

you don't even know how long you've been doing this, why you are doing this.

you stop, sitting up on your knees feeling your body painfully pumped up almost like it was pushing you out from the inside, every pulse of blood forcing you to get bigger. You look at your reflecting panting like a rabid dog so sweaty and out of breath you dont even notice the carpet beneath you soaked from your sweat and starting to change colour.

You cant help yourself but flex, as you lift up your arm you can smell the stench of your sweat flood out from you like nothing you've ever smelt before. Desperate for some form of pleasure you lick you arm and taste and salt from your sweat covered arm.

Its starting to get hard to move your bulky frame, letting out a large grunting breath as you drop your arm back to your side the voice begins again.

A echoing howl in your bing

"get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, no purpose, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, just a machine, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, be a machine, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, no purpose, get bigger, get bigger"

You grit your teeth and grab your temples with your palms, trying to ease the sensation, but you cant stop it. You drop to the ground and begin pumping out push ups once again, as fast and as hard as you can.

You look up into your bedroom mirror as you continue to force yourself to do more, you see you face dripping with sweat and can see the stench radiating off your back, your neck is getting harder to make out from your ever swelling body. You don't even remember it getting dark out. You think about stopping, for just a minute to catch your breath.

but no

you cant stop

you need to get bigger, bigger, nothing else matters, you only need to be bigger, as big as possible, you wont be satisfied until you are too big to move.

that's it, you can't stop yourself, you can't let yourself stop, not until you are a muscle bound freak.

[thebigbadbatswife]

The Mask... Take It Off...

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary - You ask Ghost to take the mask off.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Vaginal sex. Rough Sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Blindfold.

A/N - An old one shot I found in my backlog. Enjoy 💜

Word Count - 1.4k

The small room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin and soft moans. Each roll of your hips brings you closer and closer until you are teetering on the edge of what truly feels like insanity. Your body is hot. Pleasure is burning through every nerve in your body while sweat drips and runs down your skin; the taste of salt filling your mouth. 

Ghost has been working you all night. Bringing you toward the edge over and over again, but never actually letting you reach it. You are starting to get the feeling that he does it because he likes to torture you.

His back is against the wall. While his hands rest on your thighs. Occasionally they move from their place to slap your ass or roughly play with one of your tits. 

Those deep brown eyes of his, framed by equally dark eyelashes, watch you intensely. It’s the only part of his face that you can see. It’s the only part of his face that you have ever seen. Except maybe Soap. He’s always wearing a some sort of balaclava or skull mask. It drives you mad. All you want is to feel his lips and tongue on your skin. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples or his tongue lapping at your drooling pussy. 

With how hot and bothered you are you have no freaking clue how he’s even still able to wear the damn thing. If it was you underneath that balaclava you would feel like you’re suffocating. 

Out of breath, with your legs aching, you slow your movements down, but don’t stop completely. You lean forward and press your forehead against how, doing your best to ignore how much you hate the feeling of the material against your sweat soaked skin. Your hands come to rest on the tops of his pecks.

“Ghost?” 

“Yeah, lovie?” he asks. His voice sounds strained. It comes as no surprise to you considering how hard he is inside of you. His cock twitching each time your walls flutter around him. He’s got to be as close to his own climax as you are to your own. 

You hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath and asking the question you always ask.

“The mask? Take it off? For me?” 

You don’t expect anything to come from your asking. It never had done before. He usually flips you onto your front and fucks you into the mattress until you’re shaking from the after effects of your own orgasm and dripping with his. Before he unceremoniously pulls out from you and leaves you to deal with the mess all alone. Usually avoiding you for weeks afterwards until the next time he needs a release.

He looks at you for a moment, completely silent. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognise. It’s a long moment. One where the only things you can hear is your heart beat thumping in your ears and the squelching noise that your cunt and his cock make together sounds even louder than it did a few minutes ago.

He’s never looked at you like that before, you quickly realise. There’s no time for you to question it or figure out what that look means as he reaches for the bedside cabinet. Where his knife is laying. Ghost uses it to slice a strip of cloth out of the bedsheet and sets it aside. He brings the piece of scrap cloth up to your eyes and covers them, tying it behind your head. 

You can’t see shit now, but you don’t question it. You trust him and that extends to whatever the hell it is he is currently doing.

“How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” 

“The fuck am I suppose to know?” you whine. Your pace slows further and you can feel your incoming climax fading away. Your legs are really starting to kill you.

“Just checkin’.” He slaps your ass, hard. Making you yelp.

The next thing you know there’s a rustling and you hear something hit the floor. Ghost takes hold of your hands and brings them up to his face. 

Holy fuck. He actually took his mask off for you.

Your fingers trace his face, mapping out every little detail you come across. You want to commit all of it to memory. While you can’t see him, this is certainly a step in the right direction. 

Ghost has pleasantly full lips and a sharp jawline. Already you’re thinking about how nice it will feel to kiss him. Those lips moving with your own in perfect harmony. 

You move away from the thought and continue your exploration. His nose is crooked and there’s a bump in the bridge from where it’s been broken countless times in the past. And you know exactly where his scars are from the way his skin is raised and rough in places. There’s not as many as you thought there would be. The biggest one that captures your attention is on the side of his face. Starting at his forehead, snaking just past his eye and down his cheek, toward his mouth. 

None of them shock you. At least, not completely. And you don’t think that they take away from how handsome you think he must look. 

As you’re tracing his face, you can feel Ghost shifting and moving beneath you, adjusting your positions slightly. Before you can ask what he’s doing he roughly thrusts up into you.

You moan loudly as your hands slide up to grip his hair. It’s a little bit longer than you were expecting it to be, but that makes it perfect for grabbing and tugging on. And you imagine it to be as dark as his eyes.

Ghost sets a hard and fast pace and builds your pleasure back up tenfold. Your moans quickly grow into cries as he fucks you. The grip that you have on his hair tightens as you desperately try to ground yourself. After being edged all night long you honestly feel like you might spontaneously combust. 

Suddenly you feel as if you are falling. With another yelp, this time out of fear not surprise, your fingers leave his hair to grab hold of his broad shoulders as your heart skips a beat. Your back hits the softness of the mattress and, for the first time ever, his lips meets yours in a passionate kiss. Even now you take note of how this is your first kiss ever with him and it’s completely and utterly perfect. You moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth. He tastes like peppermint gum. 

His pace remains just as relentless as before. The bed starts to creak with every thrust that he gives you. Your body jumps as the pad of his calloused thumb presses against your clit and he starts rubbing it in time of his thrusts.

All of that tension that has been building up inside of you all night long finally snaps. Euphoria rushes through every inch of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your back arches and a wordless cry, muffled by Ghost’s mouth, leaves you. The feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock has Ghost falling over the edge straight after you. His hips stuttering as his cock twitches and he fills your pussy to the brim, so that you’re overflowing with his cum. He collapses against you, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

With the absence of your bodies moving, the room is now only filled with the sounds of heavy breathing.

“Thank you. For trusting me, Ghost.” you finally say as you run your fingers through his hair.

There’s a pause. You expect him to pull away and to leave. Like he always does. But tonight is a night of firsts apparently. 

“It’s Simon.”

It’s your turn to pause for a moment. A part of your brain almost has you looking at him before you remember the makeshift blindfold you still have on. 

“What?” you ask, not sure if you had heard him right.

“My name,” he replies. “It’s Simon.” 

You truly feel honoured by the amount of trust that he is showing you tonight. First with removing his balaclava and letting you feel his face and now with telling you his real name. You know that it must take a lot for him.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Simon.”

[harryspurpleloofah]

A Taste of You Instead

Picture is most definitely not mine ‼️‼️‼️

Summary: y/n is a chef who travels the world working in little restaurants and having her own pop up stands at festivals. She ends up having to stay in the villa because of an emergency and her and Harry come down to get water at the same time and end up hooking up.

Warnings: start and end are just fluffy, p in v sex with protection (use protection guys), nipple play, no one really plays the role of a Dom or a sub, subtle flirting between y/n and Harry the entire time, tit sucking

Mr and Mrs Lowe owned a beautiful holiday villa in the Bahamas. It was complete with a private chef who they had hired about a week ago for the high profile guests coming to stay. It was Harry Styles. With his guitarist Mitch and his drummer Sarah. Their son Arlo was with Mitch’s mother back in England. They’d also brought their mutual friend Pauli so Harry wouldn’t be third wheeling.

The whole group was buzzing with excitement, voices overlapping as they scattered throughout the villa to pick rooms. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen, a reminder of how far away they were from real life.

“Is this real?” Sarah called out from upstairs, her voice echoing. “I think this bathroom is bigger than my flat!”

“Dibs the room with the outdoor shower!” Pauli shouted, already halfway down the hall.

Mitch, less concerned about claiming a space, threw himself onto the oversized couch in the living room, right next to Harry. He grabbed the sleek brochure that had been left on the coffee table, flipping through it casually.

“Check this out,” Mitch said, holding it up so Harry could see. The cover had a photo of the villa bathed in golden light, with a caption that read, ‘An Exclusive Escape: Your Paradise Awaits.’

Harry leaned over, squinting at the text. “They really went all in on the marketing, huh?”

Mitch chuckled, turning a page. “It’s not just the house. They’ve got this whole... experience thing planned. Private yoga sessions, snorkeling tours, and—” he paused, raising an eyebrow, “a one-night ‘luxury dining experience’ with a personal chef. Fancy.”

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound like us at all.”

“Speak for yourself, mate. I fully intend to live like a billionaire this week.” Mitch grinned, tossing the brochure back onto the table. “Who do you think the chef is? Like... a real one from a show or something?”

Harry shrugged, leaning back “Don’t know. Probably some bloke who makes tiny portions look pretty.”

A soft but deliberate ahem cut through the air behind him. Harry froze, Mitch’s eyes widened slightly as he looked past him.

Harry turned slowly, his gaze landing on her. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

“Not a bloke,” she said simply, her voice calm but with a hint of teasing, “and the portions will be perfectly sized, thank you very much.”

“Right..sorry about that.” Harry smiled apologetically and ran a hand through his hair.

She smiled back, “don’t worry. Mr and Mrs Lowe just asked me to drop by and make sure you guys have settled in well. Any problems?”

Sarah comes back just then with Pauli, his face in a pout, “there’s no hot water from the sink.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she thinks for a second, “huh. Shouldn’t be a problem. Did you leave it running for a bit? Takes a bit of time.”

“Yeah for a good few minutes.”

“Alright. I’ll ask someone about that and have it fixed for you.”

“Thanks so much.”

Her gaze switches back to Harry, “now if that’s all I’ll see you guys at dinner tonight. And it’ll just be me no bloke with tiny portions.”

Harry winces in apology at being reminded once again of his mistake.

As Y/N turned back toward the kitchen, the group lingered in the living room, a little quieter than before. Sarah raised an eyebrow at Harry, clearly trying to suppress a grin.

“‘Probably some bloke,’ huh?” she teased, plopping onto the couch opposite him. “You’re off to a stellar start.”

Harry leaned back, crossing his arms defensively, though his cheeks betrayed him with a faint flush. “I didn’t know she was there,” he muttered.

She doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge,” Sarah offered, smiling.

At dinner, the patio was set with a long wooden table under a canopy of string lights, the sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh herbs and sizzling garlic from the open kitchen. The group was buzzing with excitement as they sat down, wine glasses clinking and laughter filling the air.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray, setting down the first dish with practiced ease. “Tonight’s menu is a little taste of the Mediterranean,” she said, her voice calm but warm. She explained the dish, a roasted red pepper and goat cheese tart without missing a beat, her eyes skimming the group until they landed on Harry.

“Not too small, I hope,” she added with a sly smile.

Harry sighs at the subtle jab at his earlier comment before chuckling, “alright that was a bad move. I’m sorry.”

She smiles softly, “enjoy your food guys.”

Dinner had stretched into an easy, flowing evening, laughter filling the air as everyone sat back and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere. By the time Y/N had cleared the last of the dishes and wiped down the kitchen counters, it was well past 11, and she was starting to feel the weight of the day.

She’d tried calling her usual driver earlier, but he’d canceled because of an emergency, and now, every taxi app she tried only showed unavailable drivers. She frowned at her phone, frustration building

“Still here?” Sarah’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she appeared in the kitchen doorway, a glass of wine in her hand. She looked at Y/N with a small smile. “Everything alright?”

She glanced up, showing her phone to Sarah with a frustrated sigh. “My driver canceled hours ago, and now there’s no way to get a car out here. I was thinking of walking down to the path, but I can’t get anything close”

Sarah’s face twisted into concern. “Wait, what? Walk down the path? It’s pitch black out there. You’re not doing that.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I wasn’t planning on going on a hike, just needed to get to the main road and hope for a cab.”

But Sarah protested “No way. It’s way too late and it’s not safe.”

Pauli came into the kitchen, “What’s going on? Is someone trying to leave in the middle of the night?”

Y/N shrugged, holding up her phone. “Just trying to figure out how to get home. My ride bailed, and now it’s too late to get a replacement.”

Pauli shook his head. “Not on my watch. I don’t care if you’ve got a time machine, you’re not walking down that path to the main road alone, and that’s final.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Pauli. I’ve done worse.”

Mitch, always the quiet one, stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe with his usual laid-back vibe “You sure about that?” he asked glancing at the clock. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should just stay the night.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing between them. “I don’t want to intrude. It’s your getaway. You didn’t sign up for a surprise roommate.”

“Nonsense. You’re basically our friend now. Besides you’ve already done enough for one day you gave us a lovely dinner.”

“She’s right.”

Harry stood in the doorway, his presence effortlessly commanding. His sweatpants and t-shirt were simple, but the way he carried himself made them look intentional, almost tailored. His hair was slightly tousled, and he held a bottle of water loosely in one hand.

“You don’t even know what’s happening.”

Harry stepped further into the room, his smile soft but sure. “I don’t need all the details. Just heard you’re thinking about heading out on your own this late, and that’s not happening.”

“You make it sound like I don’t have a choice,” Y/N said, tilting her head.

“You don’t,” he replied easily, leaning one hip against the counter. “Not because anyone’s forcing you, but because it’d be ridiculous. There’s more than enough space here, and I’m pretty sure none of us want to wake up to a news story about someone wandering down an unlit road in the middle of nowhere getting hurt.”

Pauli nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. ‘Chef disappears into the abyss’ is not a headline we’re aiming for.”

Y/N glanced at the others, then back at Harry, whose gaze was steady but relaxed. “And if I insist on leaving?”

Harry smiled, his tone light but firm. “Then we’ll insist you stay. It’s a holiday—it’s supposed to be easy, remember?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re awfully persistent.”

“It’s a skill,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening. “One night, Y/N. You’ll thank us in the morning.”

“Fine,” she said with a playful sigh, throwing her hands up. “But only because it’s easier than arguing.”

“Smart choice,” Mitch said with a small smile.

The villa was quiet, its sprawling layout and darkened hallways lending a hushed intimacy to the late hour. Y/N crept down the stairs barefoot, her silk pajama pants brushing lightly against her legs. She hadn’t meant to stay up this late, but the weight of the day had settled in her chest, leaving her restless.

Water. That was her excuse. She needed water.

When she entered the kitchen, she stopped short.

Harry was already there, standing by the counter in loose black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, the hem brushing his hips. His hair was an unruly mess, like he’d been tossing and turning before deciding sleep wasn’t worth the fight. He was mid-sip from a glass of water when he noticed her.

“Midnight cravings?” he asked, his voice low, the kind of quiet you only hear when the rest of the world is asleep.

“Just thirsty” she replied, stepping further into the room. “Didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

“Me neither.” He set his glass down and leaned against the counter, his hip jutting out just enough to make it look effortless. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She went to the sink, reaching for a glass from the cupboard. She filled it slowly, her movements deliberate. “You always wander around this late?”

“Sometimes,” he said, watching her with an easy smile. “Hard to turn off the brain y’know?”

She nodded, turning to face him. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence stretching but never uncomfortable. The kitchen, dimly lit by a single overhead bulb, felt almost too small, the air thick between them.

“You seem more awake than I’d expect for someone who’s had a long day,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his green eyes sharp but warm.

Y/N shrugged, lifting her glass. “Water’s magic.”

He laughed softly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “That what they say?”

“That’s what I say,” she said back, taking a sip.

Harry stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, closing the space between them. “You always this quick on your feet?”

“Occupational hazard,” she replied, her voice steady even as her pulse quickened.

“Impressive,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes again.

The shift in the air was palpable, like the pause before a storm. Y/N felt her breath hitch as he reached out, his hand brushing hers where she held the glass.

“You’re really hardworking y’know?,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower. “I like that.”

“Is that right?” she replied, arching a brow, her fingers still wrapped around the glass even as his lingered on hers.

“Yeah. Ambitious and..driven. It’s refreshing.”

She should’ve said something clever. She should’ve stepped back, put space between them. But instead, she stayed where she was, her gaze locked with his.

“I don’t think this is the kind of conversation most people have at this hour,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper.

Harry’s smile deepened, his dimples making a brief but devastating appearance. “Guess I’m not most people.”

And then he was closer, the glass forgotten as he set it down on the counter. His fingers brushed against her wrist, his touch featherlight, but it sent a spark racing up her arm.

“Is this usually how your late night kitchen runs go?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat blooming in her chest.

“Not really but I’ll make an exception.”

Y/N barely had time to process his words before he leaned in, his lips brushing hers. It was soft at first almost testing, but when she didn’t pull away, it deepened. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew hungrier.

She let the glass slip from her fingers, the sound of it landing on the counter distant and unimportant. Her hands found their way to his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt bunching beneath her fingers as she clung to him.Harry’s breath hitched as he pressed her back against the counter, his body warm and solid against hers. His hands explored her sliding from her waist to her hips then back up to her jaw.

Y/N’s hands fisted in his shirt pulling him closer, her body instinctively arching toward him as the cool counter pressed against her back. She felt the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric, the hard lines of his chest against her palms making her head spin.

He shifted slightly, his knee brushing against her leg as he slotted himself between her thighs. The motion was unhurried, but the weight of him was unmistakable. His hand slipped from her waist to her hip, his thumb pressing into the curve there, grounding her even as the heat between them grew.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against her lips his voice low and gravelly, his breath hot against her skin.

Her response was immediate, her voice steady despite the way her pulse thundered. “I’m not telling you to stop.”

Harry pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his green eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, his lips quirked into a crooked smile, one that made her stomach flip.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice a velvet promise.

His lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, where he lingered nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. Y/N’s head tilted back, a soft gasp escaping her as his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, his touch searing against her bare skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice rough but steady, his fingers pausing just above her waistline.

“Yes” she breathed, her own hands trailing down his torso, brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants.

His hands slipped beneath her top, skimming over her waist and ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of her chest. He paused glancing at her, waiting for the slightest indication that she wanted him to stop.

When she arched into his touch instead, he let out a quiet groan his lips finding hers again as his hands moved higher, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive skin.

One of his hands trailed down her side, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. He paused again, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Still okay?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice firm, though her breath hitched as his hand slid lower, his fingers exploring with a confidence that left her dizzy.

Her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more of his touch, and Harry obliged, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every reaction he pulled from her.

Harry’s lips were relentless his hands moving with practiced precision, sliding up under her pajama top to cup her breasts fully. His thumbs brushed over her hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from her. Her hips bucked against his instinctively the ache low in her belly becoming unbearable.

“Sensitive aren’t you?” he murmured. He dipped his head to her neck again, nipping the delicate skin, tugging her top up and over her head in one swift motion.

“You talk too much,” she shot back, her voice breathless but steady, her hands tugging at his shirt in retaliation.

He smirked, pulling back just enough to help her peel it off him, revealing the toned planes of his chest and the tattoos scattered across his skin. Her eyes lingered for a moment, taking him in.

Their mouths crashed together, all teeth and tongues now, their earlier teasing giving way to raw, unfiltered need.

Harry’s hands slid down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her pants and pulling them down in one smooth motion. His palms trailed back up her thighs, spreading them as he stepped between her legs again.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice low. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the counter, and the cool marble against her bare skin only heightened the heat pooling between her legs.

His fingers traced up her inner thigh. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of her, leaning in to press a kiss just below her ear. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

Her response was a whimper as his fingers began to circle her in slow, deliberate motions, teasing and testing what made her writhe against him. Her head fell back, her hands clutching at his shoulders for balance as her breathing grew ragged.

“Harry,” she gasped, her voice cracking on his name.

“That’s it, love,” he muttered, his lips traveling down her chest, his tongue flicking over a hardened peak before he took it into his mouth. His free hand gripped her waist to steady her as his fingers worked her over, building her higher and higher until she was on the edge.

“Please” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders as her hips moved against his hand.

“What do you need?” he asked, his voice a low rasp as he pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You” she said simply, her gaze locking with his, her cheeks flushed and lips parted.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice rough but full of care.

She blinked up at him, her own breathing uneven, and watched as he stepped back slightly, his hands reluctantly leaving her body. He reached for his sweatpants, which had been discarded hastily on the floor, and pulled a small foil packet from one of the pockets.

“Just gotta be careful yeah?”, he smiles at her.

She watches him put the condom on and nods.

Harry gripped her thighs, pulling her against him. Their eyes stayed locked as he aligned himself with her, pausing just long enough to let her adjust to the feel of him.

The first thrust stole the air from her lungs, and Harry groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder as he began to move. His pace was measured at first, but it quickly became clear that neither of them was interested in restraint.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against her skin, his voice barely audible over their shared rhythm.

Her reply was incoherent, a mix of moans and whimpers as her release built to a breaking point.

You’re stunning,” he said, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them if he tried.

Y/N let out a small laugh, “Flattery gets you nowhere Harry.”

“Doesn’t feel like nowhere,” he countered, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her to the edge of the counter. “Feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, “God you’re so big..” he gripped her thighs to hold her steady. The sound of their bodies smacking together filled the kitchen, mingling with their ragged breaths and soft moans.

He pulled back, almost completely, before thrusting forward again pounding his cock deeper into her, the motion deliberate and slow. His hips snapping against hers with more urgency, each thrust driving deeper, harder. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room.

Her cries grew louder as she reached the edge, her body arching into him as the tension inside her snapped. Her release hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her shaking and clinging to him, her nails digging into his back.

Harry followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep a guttural groan escaping him as he came undone. His grip on her hips tightened, holding her close as he spilled into her, his body trembling with the force of it.

Their breaths mingled in the quiet of the kitchen, both of them still trembling slightly as they came down from the orgasm. Harry stayed close, his body pressed against hers, his hands gently smoothing over her sides as if grounding them both.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice soft and low, the usual cheeky edge replaced with genuine care.

Y/N nodded, her fingers brushing through the damp curls at the nape of his neck. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice still a little shaky. “You?”

“Better than okay” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. He eased back, his green eyes scanning her face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

When he was satisfied, he carefully slipped away, helping her down from the counter. She wobbled slightly, and his hands were instantly at her waist, steadying her with a gentle smile.

She watched as he went to get a glass of water and a clean dish towel. Settling beside her, he handed her the glass, his hand resting lightly on her thigh.

“Drink,” he urged softly.

She took a sip, the cool water soothing against her throat. Meanwhile, Harry unfolded the towel, dampened with warm water, and began gently cleaning her up. His movements were tender his eyes flickering to hers every so often to make sure she was comfortable.

After a while, Y/N shifted slightly in Harry’s arms, reluctantly pulling herself upright. “I should probably... you know, head up,” she said softly, glancing toward the staircase.

Harry’s arms tightened around her for a moment before he let her go, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, probably a good idea,” he agreed, though the reluctance in his voice mirrored her own.

She stood, smoothing down her borrowed t-shirt, one of Sarah’s from earlier and glanced back at him as he leaned back against the couch. His hair was a mess of soft curls, his face flushed and glowing in the low light, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips. He looked far too good for someone who’d just spent the last hour being utterly wrecked.

He caught her staring and raised a brow, that effortless charm creeping back into his expression. “What? Already miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin. “Hardly,” she said, though the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Harry stood too, stretching slightly before stepping closer. “I’ll walk you up,” he offered, his voice softer now.

“I can manage,” she replied, but there was no real protest in her tone.

Together, they padded up the stairs, their bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden steps. The villa was quiet, save for the faint rustling of palm trees outside.

Soon it was the group’s last day at the villa. Y/N hadn’t stayed over every single night but the time she’d spent with them was savored by them all and they’d definitely miss her.

The late afternoon sun spilled through the villa’s open windows, casting golden light over the long dining table where Harry and his friends sat, their plates filled with the last meal Y/N had prepared for them. The air buzzed with lighthearted chatter and laughter, the group savoring both the food and the company.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Y/N,” Sarah said, setting her fork down with a satisfied sigh. “I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy a regular sandwich again.”

“Agreed” Mitch added, raising his glass in a silent toast to her.

Pauli leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. “What’s the secret? Is it the knife skills, the seasoning, or just pure magic?”

“Third one.” She responded while smiling as she made her way over to start to gather the plates.

Harry watched her from across the table, a soft smile playing on his lips. She moved with an effortless grace, her presence brightening the room just as much as the sunshine pouring in.

After lunch, the group lingered for a while, lounging on the couches and soaking up the last moments of their holiday. Eventually, though, the time came to start packing up, and the air grew tinged with the bittersweet weight of goodbyes.

Out on the front porch, their bags gathered near the waiting car, Sarah enveloped Y/N in a warm hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said earnestly. “You’ve been amazing.”

Pauli was next, wrapping Y/N in a dramatic bear hug that made her laugh. “If I’m ever in a food coma again, I’m blaming you,” he said, winking as he stepped back.

Finally, Harry stepped forward, his hands in his pockets and his smile soft but radiant. “They’re not wrong, you know,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve been incredible.”

“And you guys have all been lovely guests.” She replied.

Harry chuckled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “So, uh,” he started, holding it out to her. “Any chance I could get your number? For... you know, culinary emergencies.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but her smile widened as she took his phone and punched in her number. “Only if you promise not to text me at three in the morning asking for pancake recipes,” she said, handing it back to him.

“No promises,” he replied, his grin boyish and charming as he glanced down at his phone.

The car honked softly, breaking the moment, and Harry gave her a small, reluctant nod. “Guess that’s my cue,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

“Guess so,” she replied, her chest tightening just a bit as he stepped back.

As the car pulled away, Y/N stood on the porch, waving as they disappeared down the winding drive. The villa felt quieter already, the absence of their lively energy palpable.

She glanced down at her phone, the screen lighting up with a new message: "Thanks again, Chef. Hope this isn’t goodbye."

A soft smile spread across her lips, and she typed out a quick reply: "Not goodbye. Just see you later."

[thesamoanqueen]

Bimini Dream

A/N: When I wrote it the mood was completely different, it was an inspiration born from a friend suggestion, but seemed correct to me wait before posting it. It has nothing to do with what happened and I won't write anything about it for the same reason I haven't published this story until today, Roman is a character/Joe a real human being and there's a big difference for me. Breaks are useful to understand what our priorities are, unfortunately life is not always a dream or a vacation, but we all should appreciate what we have.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, 18+ Inspired by Naked - Doja Cat

Giving up his spot hadn't been what he imagined, what he had prepared himself for. It had been difficult, exhausting, even more so after the first few weeks. Four years had the ability to make everything a habit and when the time for big projects had arrived, the impulse had still been to be present no matter what had happened. Your relationship had been put to the test. Roman had seen you angry, frustrated, disappointed even, troubles in paradise that Roman didn't want and risked taking away more than a belt from him. You wanted the best for him, the best for the new chapter of his, your, life together and he couldn't get it with old habits, you were right, as always. So he had learned to control from afar, focusing on the next project, without answering every call or request that didn't personally concern the work he had pending. Months had passed, a time in his mind that was confused, short and even endless, but the well-deserved vacation had finally arrived. Not a one-day break between filming, interviews and meetings for new projects, a real vacation with his woman.

A paradise for the two of you. Made of palm trees and crystal water, fresh sheets and feet sinking into the damp sand of a private club in Bimini. Days spent away from chaos getting drunk and kissing, caresses and massages to take away the memory of punches and bruises, your laugh in his ears at all hours. You were happy and carefree like a lil girl again and Roman was unable to take his eyes off you in those moments, sure of wanting this for your entire life together.

His eyes scanned you, as you slipped out of the sundress just beyond the threshold of the private area, your thong bikini to greet him provocatively between soft curves dirty with sand and salt. The sound of a song hummed all the way to the dining room table to grab some fruit and disappear onto the balcony overlooking the beach. Just the time to get a drink for himself and attracted like a sailor by his mermaid, Roman followed you out, sitting on the sofa to enjoy the show you were delighting him with. The wavy movement of your hips is hypnotic, the water sliding between your barely covered breasts is an invitation as dangerous as your fingers, busy washing a day of snorkeling off your skin. The taste of fruit and alcohol on his tongue unable to wash away his thrist and your eyes finally finding him, as bright as the familiar smile forming on your lips.

- "Why are you looking at me like that?" – he hears you ask, continuing to massage your thighs.

- "You' enjoying yourself"

It wasn't a question, but pure pride, the reward for his efforts. He would have given you anything if you had only asked, spoiling to the point of forcing you to say enough, his absolute priority was you, the pulsating engine of his continuous success. He couldn't have looked at you any other way than with adoration, gratitude. Always there for him, always ready to support and push him.

- "I’d have more fun if you came to keep me company" – you mutter, a playful pout and a hand reaching out to call him.

And how could Roman say no to you? He didn't want to, he had never been capable of doing so, and putting down the drink, he freed himself from his tank top to join you under the cool water of the shower, his hands quickly finding your body, those curves where his muscles fit like a puzzle to reveal the rough skin under his fingers.

- "You're still covered in sand" – he notices, cleaning you carefully, while you lean forward, filling the space between you two until your breaths mix.

- "Nope, it's brown sugar scrub, you wanna taste it?"

A whispered offer, almost a secret, even though you already knew his answer. He had always been a hungry man, but you awoke a feverish need in him, the urgency to consume you and be consumed furiously as soon as your eyes met in a complicit silence.

- "Mmh you keep testing me" – he noted, placing an innocent kiss on your nose, already feeling your fingers free him from the bun and copy with a real kiss.

Flavor of mango and dragonfruit surrounds him, an inviting aftertaste when your teeth bite into him slowly, eliciting a dangerous moan from him that makes you smile devilishly, drawing Roman even further under the water. His hands stop you, gripping your round hips, dark locks dripping onto your breasts. The silence of the empty beach not far from you two, now filled by the sound of close breaths, growing tension making Roman’s muscles tense and your core soften.

- "‘cause you’re too good" – fingers caressing his broad chest, running your nails over the shiny tattoo up to his broad shoulders, to lock behind his neck – "now can we get naked?" – you finally ask.

The new offer is not a secret nor whisper, there was nothing playful about it, just pure desire and Roman is a good man, but sure not a saint, so he grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head, watching in admiration as your breathing stops for a moment already, a silent moan for his sudden commanding behavior leaving your honey lips.

- "Strip for me babygirl, slow, show me first" – he orders against your ear, licking away his own words before taking a step back, just one and enjoying the show.

Your hands leave him sadly, but you obey, moving your wet hair from your shoulder to play with the thin string holding up your colorful bikini top. You pull it down, slowly, stretching the fabric until the bow comes undone and Roman watches it fall at your feet like anyone should have. He follows your fingers caress from your collarbones to your breasts, full and perfect for his hands and passes one over his face, moving away his hair, while yours slide down the belly he loves to kiss down to what he loves to eat. Bimini had its own fountain of eternal youth, Roman's was there between your soft thighs, always ready to welcome him, juicy and tasty like the fruit you wrapped your lips around every day for breakfast. He watches you turn, eye over your shoulder and crouch down to take off your thong, leaving it to keep company to the top. When you get up Roman can't hold back a sound of approval, eyes glued to the two brown hills that you rub on his already hard boner, and then turn around and caress him.

- "Why you keep standing there? Don't you want to slip into something more pleasant?" – your body presses against his, breasts tickling his muscles - "… maybe me?" – you invite him and his mouth finds yours without waiting a second more.

Neither of you tries to go easy, you kiss without haste, but consuming each other, cool water sliding on your heated bodies like Roman's tongue on yours. You suck on his lips as he maneuvers you to have total control and you let him do it, abandoning yourself against the wall to free him from the swimsuit he kept on for your day together. Roman kicks it away without care, growling hoarsely into your mouth as he feel you gripping his dick in your hands, torturing the head with a soft thumb until he break the kiss with a heated moan. He presses his forehead to yours, letting you prepare him, your mouth trailing kisses down his neck and shoulders, biting into sun-tanned skin and licking away water drop by drop.

- "There's no where else I'd rather be" – he squeezes your hip, smashing his other hand against the wall, your nipples rubbing against his chest and you smile.

- "I love how you look at me… makes me feel so special" - you meow against his mouth and it's enough to make him snap.

Oh, special would be an understatement to describe you.

Roman lifts you up effortlessly, his large hands on your round ass, letting your legs wrap around his hips like a belt. He would have gladly worn you for the rest of his days, anywhere, without shame if only it were possible, sinking into your soft folds sweeter than any victory. He watches as you throw your head back, shaken by the pleasure that hits both of you in finding each other and he takes the opportunity to suck your neck, giving a couple of lazy thrusts, to spread you and savor the spasms of your center that gets used to the presence of him. Your arms hold him, lips ready to cover him with soft kisses on his temples and freckles, fingers laced in the dark locks of his hair to pull them, make him growl and guide him to you.

His attentions will leave a mark on you, but neither of you cares. You have nothing to hide, you belong to each other and you both show it with pride. No one will pass by that beach, Roman had paid good money for your paradise and he didn't regret it at all. Everything to make you smile.

- " nhm… you're getting wet as fuck" – he hums, adjusting his posture to increase the pace.

His hips become more commanding as he feels you give in and with his face buried between your breasts, he works you without going all the way, spending his time playing your nipples, devouring and licking the sensitive flesh to reduce you to a gorgeous panting mess. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, onto his shoulders, your head resting on him, almost a hug, bodies impossible to separate and on his tongue that aftertaste of brown sugar.

- "R-Ro… ahn, keep doing that" – you moan, holding him against you.

His name belongs in your throat like a jewel, the kind of gift no one else could give you because only Roman knows what you need to satiate your thirst, what touch makes your body shivers and what is needed for a lovely bow. He grins, he knows not going deep makes you even more needy, he feels your heart hammering like the water falling at his feet, your moods dirtying his hard cock. Then he stops torturing your breasts, letting your body slide a little further down and the moan with which you delight his ears feeling him entirely Roman swallows it as he kisses you. Squeezed between the wall and his massive body, with no chance of escaping him, he moves an arm under your thigh to a new angle that makes you scream with the first thrust.

- "Hm, it's so g-good… God… more- more-" you beg, your gaze liquid, lips swollen.

- "I own this pretty pussy, hmm is mine. I know how to make her sing…" - he growls, pushing himself between your folds until you throb.

A satisfied smile spreads uncontrollably on his face, pride, possession, desire, love, a mixture in his guts that burns where your bodies are united and from which Roman cannot take his eyes off, mesmerized by the sight of your honey spread all over his flesh now that you are stretched to perfection. He watches your walls suck him in, clinging to the veins on his skin, hips moving incessantly, while your pleas become louder in his ears increasingly dizzy with growing pleasure.

- "P-please… Ro… there" – he knows where you want it, he knows what he has to do to see you faint in to his arms.

And he hits that spot, without mercy, giving you what you want, focusing on that weak point able of making you breathless and driving him to madness. The spasms of your body, soaked and panting, are shocks inducting him into a sort of competitive trance, his hands hooked at your side, at that thigh bent almost to his shoulder to have complete access to your core. You tremble, his flesh swelling your center every time he pushes into you, making him growl excitedly, sight matching the furious sensation of the now imminent climax. Your moans become strangled cries and then Roman shifts his gaze to your face, to intercept your almost desperate expression, the one that always anticipates your orgasm. When it finally arrives, he feels your nails digging into the flesh of his forearms and your voice fades into a delicious cry, he kisses you, hammering your sweetest spot without stopping for a second and he watches with pleasure the violent tremors of your body.

- "My precious girl… cum, you're so f-fuckin gorgeous" – he growls obscenely against your lips, seeing you open your eyes again with a lost expression, your hips swinging to meet his thrusts and please him too.

- "G-give it to-to me" – you beg, but it wouldn't even be necessary.

He finally puts you down, still holding you by the hips to avoid your legs playing a nasty trick and he enters you from behind, this time sinking completely, one hand on your ass to spread your soft buttocks. You meow, your sensitive center trembles from his intrusion and Roman throws his head back smugly, licking his lips, feeling the water run over his face and your hot folds around his flesh. He slides deep, his cock covered by your white nectar and energies gathering at the bottom of his abdomen ready at any moment to explode inside you. You are soft, familiar, holding you in his arms is a sensation capable of making him feel at peace with the world. Your hips roll tiredly, giving him everything you have and Roman thrust to take it, pounding deep inside you, the furious ecstasy of heat building every time his balls slap you making your back arch against the wall. He gave you what you wanted, always before himself, but now it's his turn. It's a violent, rough ride during which your sweet whispered words mix with his hoarse moans, legs burn, while he lowers his head and finally abandons himself to the wave that suddenly hits, dragging him inside you. The climax is overwhelming, Roman gasps, everything in him seems to empty inside your core, his hips fit into the beautiful curves of your body, mind blank and body unable of wasting a single drop of himself outside.

One of your hands finds him, resting on his forearm in a silent caress and when the hot wave it's finally over, Roman lowers himself onto you, placing a kiss on your back as you smile tiredly. You’re the one who breaks away from him, because for Roman it's an impossible feat he never tries to accomplish.

- "Such a hard working man" – you joke, wrapping your arms around him again.

Water slides against his back, washing away sweat and moisture from both your bodies, while he cradles you, your face pressed against his chest. Roman places a kiss in your head, a satisfied and soft smile on his face as he feels you hold him, so precious and for a moment the two of you stay there, until he’s again stable enough and he drags you out of the shower. You folllow, already knowing what he has in mind, fingers agreeing to leave him just long enough to wrap both of your bodies in white towels before walking back inside. Another refreshing glass to rehydrate and you and him collapse on the bed, hugging each other between the scented sheets, lulled by the sound of water and your breathing.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @sortudademais @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @wrestlingprincess80 @tribalauthor

[throwmethroughawindow]

“Come on Zoro, please?”

The hulking form of said man seemed to sag in annoyance at your persistent begging, slowly whittling away at his resolve with each ask but the bottle of sake next to you was a huge bargaining chip for you.

“What the fuck is a body shot anyways?” You had to ebb away the sliver of excitement at his question, already tasting the tequila on your tongue.

“All you have to do is hold a lime in your mouth. I’ll do the rest! And if you let me do this,” you held up the bottle of sake so Zoro could see it “you get this sake i brought specifically for you.”

“Fine.” He grunted and snatched the sake bottle out of your hand before you could react “but I’m taking this now.”

You shrug, not really caring as you take in the expanse of his chiseled chest. His body was perfectly honed and looked like it was made out of marble, felt like it too. Reaching over, you pour a shot of tequila and grab the salt and turn to face Zoro. His gaze was enough to make you want to sink to your knees and worship the ground he walks on, licking and sucking as much as he lets yo-

“Well?” His gaze cut down on you like a blade, shaking you out of your thoughts and making your heart and pussy throb “are you going to do this body shot so i can go back to drinking or what?”

“Well… there’s one tiny little detail I didn’t tell you. I need to lick a part of your body to put salt on for the tequila.”

A red blush dusted Zoro’s tanned cheeks as he seemed to falter for words, stammering “w-what the hell? Are you some kind of pervert? Why the hell do you wanna lick me?! Just take some out of the shaker!” You rolled your eyes at him, pushing closer to him as you grab tug on his open button up shirt playfully.

“That’s what a body shot is! It’ll be quick I promise. One little lick and some salt and we’re done!” You trailed your fingers over his abdomen, marveling at his solid body and the slight twitch it did at your soft touches.

“Fine! But hurry up, okay pervert!? Acting like that damn lovesick cook, wanting to lick-“

Zoro couldn’t help the loud moan as the feeling of a wet tongue licking across his very sensitive nipple. Glancing down, he caught your look of surprise at his reaction

“Why the hell are you licking my nipple!? You really are a fucking pervert!” His yelling didn’t really phase you because the only sound in your head was the sound of his pretty moan, how guttural and deep it was… not to mention how the sound went straight to your pussy.

“I’m done playing your stupid-“ Before Zoro could finish you latched your mouth around his nipple, nipping at it and sucking; doing anything to hear him moan again. To hear this huge Herculean man groan above because you licked his nipple was mind-blowing and completely erotic.

Sucking a little harder, you let out a small whimper as he panted and moaned above you; wrapping his hands in your hair to wrench your head away from his nipple as he set you with a hard glare. You whimpered again when you looked down and caught sight of his hard cock, trying to press closer to him to feel it against you.

“God you’re acting like a slut. Didn’t know you wanted my cock so bad,” Zoro had a mean smirk on his blush covered face, trailing his tongue over his sharp canines as he took in your blown out pupils and jutted bottom lip. “Makes me want to fuck you right here in the stupid cooks kitchen to show you who holds the power in this relationship.”

Thank you @terarria-sunflower for encouraging me to expand on this bc u said I could change u into a Zoro girly😭😭😫😫😫🩷 love you pookie

[fast-burn]

gaping, helmet/mask, caught for maxiel

doing a little double-entendre for caught

kink list here

XXX

By the time Daniel herds Max into the nearest room with a door that closes--a storage closet by the looks of it, piled with boxes, one of them spilling Red Bull polos in their crinkly packages--he's so desperately horny that he's actually light-headed. He usually doesn't get the spins like this unless he's been drinking lots, or maybe out on the first free practice after a long vacation. But Max, he--

"Show me," Daniel demands. Begs, breathless.

"Hold on a second," Max says, voice muffled behind his helmet. He sounds like he does on the radio, and Daniel makes a mental note to dig up those recordings later. How well could Max have hidden it, giving feedback to GP or cussing when things didn't go his way?

Max struggles to get the helmet off. The HANS is still clipped to it, and it's snagged on something.

"No time," Daniel snaps, going for the zip on Max's suit and yanking it down. He dropped his own helmet and gloves on his car, and it's too bad that Max didn't do the same, but Daniel needs to see.

Daniel shoves down the sleeves of Max's suit, and the HANS comes undone with a gentle give, just caught on some thread. He spins Max around and pushes him up against the wall. Then, finally, he wrangles Max's suit over the plump curve of his ass, taking his snug briefs along with it.

And there it is: the plug Max said he'd put inside himself, just before they went out for Q1. The wide, translucent silicone base is snug between his cheeks. And also like Max had said, it's hollow. He's gaped wide open and Daniel can see right through to the dark, warm core of him.

Max is panting inside his helmet. "Well?" He asks. "What do you think?"

He'd been in the car with the plug inside him. It was probably vibrating with every turn.

"You slut," Daniel gasps, reverent. He puts two fingers inside the plug, inside Max's ass, and Max probably can only feel the echoes of sensation. He's completely vulnerable to whatever pleasure Daniel wants to take from him. "You're so hot, Max, god."

"If you come in me, it will probably leak while I'm driving again," Max offers, and Daniel stops breathing for a moment.

They really don't have the time. The whole rest of the garage is on the other side of the door. Any of them could walk in at any moment--it's not like it locks from the inside. They really really don't have the time, but Daniel hauls Max's body back against his, and grasps Max's full, sweaty tits through his fireproofs.

"You wouldn't be able to hold it in. My come," Daniel says. He mouths across the back of Max's helmet, tasting gas fumes and salt, the surface lightly gritty from the sand blowing across the track. He ruts his clothed cock against the ridge of the plug like an animal.

"It would get all over the place," Max agrees.

Daniel whines and licks the helmet, laves his tongue over Max's logo on the back, leaving a shiny trail through the dusting of grime. "Wanna fuck you so bad. Want you covered in it."

An announcement pings through the garage. "Hurry up," says Max.

"I know, I know," Daniel says, and at the same moment, the doorknob rattles. Daniel throws himself back against the door, pinning it closed. Max scrambles back into his race suit as they both hear someone say what the fuck on the other side. They look at each other, eyes wide. Not that Daniel is looking, but they probably both have enormous boners right now. Probably visible from space.

"You wait," Max instructs after they hear the receding footsteps. "I'll go out first."

"What? No," Daniel says, because he's not going to slink out behind Max. "I'm first."

Max huffs a breath into his helmet. "No, I'm first--"

"Max, c'mon, I should be first--"

"No, you're going after me. I'm first--"

"If anyone is coming second, it's you--"

[eyesxxyou]

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| i. one| pearly white eyes

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: blood. death. decompostion. mentions of person being eaten. reader is caged. mention of selling reader.

↳ ❝ If only the sea would love him back. How unrequited his adoration was ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

“Da ocean is no’cha friend, ‘Obie. It’ll chew ya up ‘n spit’cha ou’ ‘n there won’ be a trace of ya left.” His mother would grab his chin when he was young and gazed at the ocean for too long, hypnotized by the lapping waves at the shore, like it was coaxing him toward it. He’d stand there, body swaying with the sea back and forth back and forth, its song luring him closer. She’d try to hurry him along as they made their way to the market from their little home.

But Hobie would linger, feet bare against the ground, toes digging into the sand. The salt of the sea carried by the wind across his nose. He closed his eyes and listened—listened to the song of the sea. The crash of the waves against the rocks below, the seagulls cawing in the distance, the ripple of the salty wind against his face. He could taste it if he stuck his tongue out.

He knew that this was what it felt like to be completely at peace.

He let his eyes flutter open slowly and suddenly he was on the beach, taller, dressed in clothing that didn’t feel like his own. The sun had barely begun to set over the horizon, painting the sky in broad strokes of lilly pink and tangerine orange. The sea was calm, gentle waves washing up on shore. It was foamy and white, wetting his leather boots. Then it was pink, then the unmistakable brown-ish color of old blood. He looked out at the sea. Red, all red.

“‘Obie.” The calming voice of his mother. Low and thickly accented. Hobie looked back down at his feet and there she was, his poor mother, lying in the wet sand almost as if she had been washed up onto shore. The sea had spit her out. Half decomposed, half eaten, with blood coming from her ears. Her eyes were open, milky white, not a single spark of life to be found within them. But she spoke, her half exposed jaw opening. “‘Obie.”

“Mama?” He couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he help her? Why was he so useless? Why couldn’t he save her?

“I’s time t’wake up, ‘Obie.” She crooned so softly, almost singing to him. 

Hobie stared down at her, unable to look away as her body slowly withered away and turned to seafoam. Unable to do anything to stop it. “Mama, ‘m sorry I couldn’ save ya. ‘M sorry. Please forgive me.” He wanted her to hold him, even if she was decaying before his eyes. He wanted to know her kindness, her warmth, her forgiveness, just one last time.

But she just looked at him vacantly, with those dead eyes of hers. Just before her face melted away into nothingness, she spoke one last time.

“Wake up.”

Hobie shot up in bed, his eyes vigorously searching about his surroundings– wide and wild with panic. He was no longer on that beach he had known so well in his youth. He sat in his cabin, aboard his ship, The Mary Jane. His mother was nowhere to be found. She hasn’t been for years. He knew that already.

He was layered in a thin film of cold sweat, his chest rose and fell with the sway of the ship. His skin glistened under the golden rays of dawn stretching her fingers across the sky to mark a new day. It caressed him, told him it would all be okay. But it offered no comfort. He reached up and wiped away a stray tear from his cheek. Hobie figured there was no use in going back to sleep. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, didn’t want to run the risk of another recurring nightmare.

Hobie left his bed, disheveled and disgruntled. He grabbed his billowy, off-white tunic shirt from off the floor and slid it on over his head before grabbing his boots to shove onto his feet on his way out of his cabin. Tossing the door open, Hobie used his arm to cover his eyes from the rising sun. His face scrunched, grimacing at the abrupt brightness that overtook him. His lip curled with distaste. He was not a morning person.

“‘mornin’, Cap’n. How’d you sleep?”

Hobie looked up at the crow’s nest where one of his crew sat happily perched, looking down at him with a smile almost brighter than the early-morning sun. His skin was a deep caramel and his dark brown hair fell over his face, only tied back by a blue scarf. Pavitr had been placed on look out and by the looks of it, he'd been up there all night. He looked tired but was trying to hide it by being energetic.

Hobie only grunted and that was all the answer Pav needed to know that he had another nightmare. Everyone on the crew knew he had them but no one had the gull to bring it up to him or try to talk to him about it. He wasn’t the type to want to talk about and no one wanted to upset him. He had given them all a home aboard The Mary Jane and asks for nothing in return besides that they never talk to him about the things they’ve heard coming from his cabin.

“Get down from there ‘n get some rest, Pav.” Hobie motioned him down as he walked away.

The rest of his crew roamed about on the deck, either preparing their swords and guns or cleaning. There wasn’t much to do between raids besides prepare for the next one to float along their path. Most delegated chores amongst themselves simply out of sheer boredom. They all nodded their heads respectfully or greeted Hobie with a quiet, “‘mornin’, Cap’n”. They must have all known. Either he had been yelling again or they could tell just by the way he carried himself with a heaviness they could all feel, he cared not for which.

Hobie made his way up to the forecastle deck where he could feel the sea wind the best. He leaned against the railing and closed his eyes as he always had when he was a child and took in the beauty of the sea through the rest of his senses. The smell of salt and fish burned his nose and the breeze kissed his slender cheeks. He could feel the coolness of his rings against his knuckles and the layered chains around his neck almost restricting him. And he loved it all.

If only he could close his eyes and make it last forever. If only the sea would love him back. How unrequited his adoration was. He’s learned to despise the ocean and her children for everything it has done to him. And he’s vowed to conquer it. In a way, that's how he loved it.

“Cap’n.” Hobie didn’t open his eyes nor did he answer but he knew who stood beside him. She tried again. “Hobie.” He opened his eyes and glanced to his side where stood Gwen, a small blonde with brilliant blue eyes and a fierce attitude. She looked up at him sympathetically, the only one willing to take the risk to talk to him about his nightmares. “How were things last night? You were talking rather loudly in your sleep.” Her fingers twiddled with each other in front of her but she never stopped looking at him.

Hobie turned his head away, his jaw tightening with discomfort. “There’s nothin’ t’say. Y’all heard i’.” He dragged his tongue along the soft inner flesh of his cheek. “I don’ think i’s something’ we need t’talk ‘bout.” He retracted. It was easy to pull away from others. No one on deck knew him like Gwen did though, but even she had limited knowledge about Hobie’s life before he took up a life at sea.

“I won’t force you to talk, I never do. But I want you to know I’m always here if you need to talk. I’m your friend before anything else.” She placed her hand on Hobie’s shoulder only for him to shrug her away. “‘M fine. Where’s ya boyfriend, Gwendy. Go bother him.” He didn’t mean for his words to come off as harsh as they had but it didn’t seem to deter her.

She leaned against the wooden railing beside Hobie and sighed, looking out at the open sea before them. The sun was rising quickly, still red. The sea was as red as freshly spilled blood. She opened her mouth to speak but paused. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she looked out into the distance. “Is that a ship?”

Hobie perked up and squinted his eyes as well. It was indeed a British royal navy ship, the sails only half unraveled, just wading through the shallow waters entirely directionless. There seemed to be no one on the deck. There was something off about it. If he could see them with just his bare eyes then they could certainly see The Mary Jane, so why weren’t they attacking? They were certainly within range.

“Prepare the cannons but don’ fire jus’ yet. Ge’ ready to board.”

Gwen gave one firm nod and marched off to direct the rest of the crew who jumped up with enthusiasm and began scuttling about the deck in preparation. Finally, some excitement.

Hobie took his place at the helm of the ship, steering closer to the navy ship with an air of caution settling over the deck. “Fire a warning shot.” He commanded with authority that everyone respected. Within minutes there was a fire shot at the ship and before they knew it a white flag was being flown over the navy ship. They had given up without so much as a fight.

He was sure it must be a trap, a farce to get him to lower his guard. Hobie grabbed his sword and gun and rounded up some of his crew to board the navy ship with him while the others stayed behind to protect the Mary Jane from attack. He gathered Pav, Gwen, Miles, as well as a handful of others and took them with him.

Hobie boarded the navy ship with a heavy thump of his boots, his saber unsheathed in preparation for an attack. His eyes shifted back and forth, ringed fingers gripping the handle of his sword with a hold so tight his knuckles paled. He was soon followed by the rest of his crew, all equally as cautious.

“Search the ship, bring me everyone you can find.”

His crew split up and began to scour the ship for any people or loot they could find. Most of the crew were still asleep and were summarily caught with their pants down. Quite literally, as some were brought to Hobie in only their underwear. Including the captain or the ship who was tied up and brought before Hobie, shoved to his knees.

Hobie held the tip of his sword to the captain’s throat. He was an older, pale man with graying hair, round and fat with lack of work. He looked cowardly, afraid of the fate that lay before him. “We surrendered, take whatever you please. But leave us our dignity.” The man pleaded dramatically and Hobie found himself wanting nothing more than to slit the man’s throat and be done with it. He was not in the mood for being merciful after the night he’s had.

“Why did y’surrender so easily?”

The captain trembled. “We were raided by pirates just a day ago. We were in no position to fight. Most of our men were lost. Please, I beg.” He laced his fingers together only for Hobie to press his sword to his throat and draw the slightest bit of blood. “I wonder why I don’ believe ya.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Cap’n.” Miles came from the hold below the deck and motioned Hobie to come. “You’ll want to see this.” He shifted with distress and urgency. His golden, brown eyes shifted between Hobie and the lower deck where he, Gwen, and Pav all resided.

“Watch all of ‘em.” Hobie commanded the rest of his crew. “Don’ hesitate to kill anyone who ge’s outta line.” He looked back down to the white man before him before marching past him in firm strides towards the hold. Hobie followed Miles down, his sword still drawn.

It was dark in the hold and the smell of stale ale and old fish stung in his nose. The dim light of a lanturn offered just enough light to see exactly what Miles had beckoned him down for. He had seen you.

You were the most hauntingly beautiful thing he had ever seen. Pav and Gwen stood around the cage you were in; Miles joined them, all of them staring with something of wonder or horror, it was hard to tell which. Maybe it was a bit of both. Maybe they were one in the same.

You had eyes like the freshest milk he's ever seen, eyes like pearls, white and sparkling, all wide and framed with long lashes that stuck together with the tears that ran down your cheeks and over quivering lips that undoubtedly hid the horror of your fanged teeth. Shimmering scales like iridescent pearls showed up in small patches over your skin, on your shoulders, your forearms and your calves. You were akin to a human, minus the scales, your finned ears, and the fins that stuck out of the backs of your forearms and legs. You were covered in strings of pearls that hung around your neck and over your hips, shells, and coverings made of seaweed. 

You were something divine, something not of this world, something so terrifyingly gorgeous. Hobie knew exactly what you were.

“I’s a fuckin’ siren.” Hobie marched forward, his face stone-like with dispassion. He grinded his teeth almost to dust. His lip curled with disgust and his eyes lit up with fury. “Open the cage so I can kill the tin’.” They all looked at him with something of fear and worry. They had never seen him so furious about anything.

“Shouldn’t we think about this?” Pav stood between you and Hobie, his brows furrowed. “It’s hurt.” He looked back at you and saw the dried blood caked onto your skin originating from a large wound in your shoulder. “Shouldn’t we ask more questions? Why do they have a siren locked up in the first place? We should all be dead right now but we’re not.”

“Plus, sirens are useful. They cost a lot on the market.” Gwen piped up.

They were right. Hobie didn’t want to admit it but they were right. Siren's blood was highly valuable and was used to heal illnesses and injuries. Their scales were used to make jewelry as well. They were highly sought after and would make a good bounty but hunting them was incredibly dangerous. It’s rare that anyone actually captures one. They're known to bring entire ships to the bottom of the sea where they’d eat their victims.

Hobie sighed. He’d save himself a lot of trouble if he just killed you before you drowned the whole lot of them. “Keep them in the cage for now.” He turned on his booted heels and made his way back onto the upper deck. Everyone was just where they had been. He stood before the captain of the ship once more and glowered at him. “Wha’s with the siren? Y’should all be dead righ’ now.”

“I- We captured it for his majesty…he wants to make a zoo of the things, but it’s broken. Can’t sing. Figured…we jus’ might sell it on the market for parts. You– you can have it. Just leave us.” He smiled as he offered you to him, wearily and desperately. Something about the offer disgusted Hobie. The selling of flesh, even if it wasn’t that of a human, was morally reprehensible in his book.

With one swift motion of his sword, Hobie slit the captain’s throat and watched as he fell to the deck, choking and gurgling on his own blood. Blood splattered onto Hobie’s face at the initial spray and down the rest of his body as the captain collapsed.

He stepped on the captain’s body as he made his way back down to the hold to figure out if he should do just the same with you. Your kind killed hundreds in your lifetime, thousands even. Your kind lured people to their deaths by way of seducing them with everything they desired in life. There was something quite despicably sinister about it.

Hobie came back and stood before you, your frail, injured body. You looked up at him with those milky white eyes that almost made him flinch. He couldn’t bear to look at you, the way you wept, as if you were crying for your life. How could such a thing look so perfect while crying? He cursed his feelings, his empathy, his humanity. Would a being like you even understand something like that? Something as complex and beyond comprehension as human emotion? He barely understood it himself.

“Let it go.”

Gwen and Miles fiddled with the lock until they managed to break it open and let you free. You didn’t move for a bit, your eyes flicking from side to side at all of them to see what they would do. You trembled with fear, you sobbed in choking gasps. Hobie knew that sirens were meant to be alluring, that’s how they captured their victims, but he didn’t know one could look so pretty while crying.

After a while of stillness, you finally began to move. You crawled out of the small cage you had been locked in, wincing at the pressure put upon your injured shoulder until you stood up. You were a fragile thing, looking between the four of them as they all stood back and watched you. They were waiting for the moment you’d flip, the moment you’d sing your hypnotizing song and convince them to all jump ship.

“You’re free.” Hobie moved out of the way, sheathing his sword to show he meant no harm. He did it despite all signals in his mind telling him this was a terrible idea. “No one will kill ya, no one will sell ya. Yer probably gonna die from ya injuries anyway. Jus’ go.” If you remained in his presence any longer, he may just lose it. Your kind stole innocent people from their families. Monsters, the whole lot of you.

But you didn’t move, you just stared at him, blankly, blinking with those pretty lashes of yours. Your lips formed into the smallest pout.

Hobie sighed. “Don’cha understand me?” Sirens were meant to understand all languages.

You nodded, tears still streaking your pretty face.

“Then go, go now, before I change my min’.” He gritted his teeth and pointed towards the door, moving further out of the way to give you more room to leave. You hesitated just for a moment before beginning to walk on shaky legs and bare feet. You look at them all as you pass them but you stop in front of Hobie and stare– just stare for a long, drawn out moment. You stare even when he turns his face away from yours because he can’t bear to look into those eyes.

That’s when you begin to run. You scramble off up the stairs, soon followed by Hobie, Miles, Gwen, and Pav, and they all watch as you climb and stand on the edge of the boat. You look back one last time at Hobie before turning back towards the sea and diving overboard.

They all rush to watch you swim away. All except Hobie, who can’t stop thinking about those pearl white eyes.

[milliesfishes]

how about one with Billy and shy!female reader who is sensitive to the heat, maybe

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂'𝓼 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓽𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Summers in Lincoln County were hotter than Hades.

Billy spent those months with his sleeves rolled up and his hat pulled low over his eyes so the sun wouldn’t beat down on his face. He was permanently sweating, wiping his brow every few seconds. He tried to stay clean though, keeping his girl in mind.

But you didn’t seem to mind one bit, smoothing your hands over his sweaty chest and kissing his cheeks, not minding the taste of salt on his skin. Whenever he came home, he’d try and nudge you away, protesting, “Baby I smell like heat ‘n horses, I gotta wash up f’ my girl.”

But you’d shake your head, burying your face in his unbuttoned collar. “Don’t care. I missed you.” It always made him chuckle, and he’d press a sweaty kiss to your hair.

Your story with the heat was completely different.

He’d learned quickly that you had a tendency to overwork yourself no matter the weather. Sometimes he’d find you at home with an arm flung over your eyes, resting on the chaise, only in your chemise.

Kneeling at your side, he’d rove a finger over your forehead, kissing your cheek. “Sweetie, ya feelin’ alright?”

“Think I was outside for too long,” you mumbled, and he sighed.

“Honey you gotta learn to take breaks,” he murmured. “‘N you’re not drinkin’ ‘nough water either sweet girl.”

“‘m okay,” you breathed, and he shook his head, standing and going into the kitchen to get you some water.

But one day it all came to a head when he was in the garden with you one day. It’d been several hours, and he’d been pestering you to stop and breath for awhile now. Always his stubborn girl, you insisted you were fine, that you could take ten more minutes.

Well, now he was standing, reaching out a hand for you. “Angel. Would ya please come with me? Don’t want ya not to be feelin’ well.”

You pursed your lips, reluctantly giving in and getting to your feet. But the second you were upright, he saw your eyes roll back and your knees buckle. “Baby-“

Billy managed to catch you before you hit the ground, hoisting you into his arms and hurrying into the house, abandoning the garden tools. He brought you to the bedroom, stripping the covers back and resting you there. Making quick work of removing your dress, he noticed you stirring.

He breathed in relief, tossing the dress aside and untying his bandana, tugging it from around his neck and mopping your brow. “Hey, baby. ‘M gonna getcha some water, okay? Water’ll make ya feel better, honey.”

You reached out for him, eyes hazy. “I didn’t listen to you.”

“‘s okay, baby,” he cooed, stroking your cheeks. Billy would never dream of being upset at you for any reason. “All that matter’s you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay honey.”

After you’d drained two glasses at his insistence, he stripped his clothes, holding you close at your insistence. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he murmured, “We’re takin’ more breaks from now on, ‘kay? Don’t needa be workin’ as hard as ya do.”

You nodded, sleepy from the heat. He cared for you more than you did yourself, and you loved him more than anything for it. He was always conscious of your health, determined to keep you around for as long as possible.

[jaidens]

I Could See You In Your Suit And Your Necktie – Pass Me A Note Saying, "Meet me tonight"

pairing [s] : aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warning [s] : smutttyyyy | he's my daddy idec | just absolutely disgusting and unholy | younger reader with salt and pepper hotchy | I don't even know.. all I know is it's big | wrap it before you tap it irl! | some of this stuff Hotch does is illegal on the road, don't do it in real life queens. | i didn't know how to finish it tbh 😭

a/n [s] : for all my hotch girlies.. me too girls. (requests are open)

It was extremely and completely unprofessional for the current actions that were happening. That was all that was running through Aaron's mind whenever he watches the way you tug off the tight button up t-shirt. If anyone found out about the relationship with his team member and the unit-chief he would surely have been fired. However the way you slowly unbuttoned his pants and bit your lip, he would have been gladly fired for you.

It's down right awful the way he lets you pull him apart with your manicured nails and messy hair. It all started with a singular look and a “Yes sir, I'm coming” when he called you into his office. He only needed to ask you a couple questions about a recent incident on the field whenever you grabbed his thigh by accident. However when you walked in, all was left out the door as you flapped your eyelashes.

The professionalism of the situation was wrong, and he could be easily kicked out for taking advantage of his power. The way your lips taste and feel against his makes everything fall apart. He knows nothing further can happen in the office, but he knows that his bedroom and a glass of wine can finish everything.

“Didn’t you have a question for me, sir?” Is all you say when you pull away from his lips. His tie is pulled loose and his lips are a dark pink. “When you—god, touched my thigh on the Craner case. What did that mean? I've been thinking about you since that day. It's like, fuck, I'm an addict for you, baby.” The way the curse and pet name slides out of his mouth like he's always called you that is addicting for you.

“I’ve been thinking about you too sir. Every night before bed.” You whisper in his ear, rilling him up further. Your hips grind against his as you connect his lips to yours again. His hands fall to your ass, massaging gently. “Well. I still have paperwork sir. I'll see you tomorrow.” You push off of him and he writes something on a piece of paper, rips it off, and hands it to you. “Goodbye agent.”

You can't help but smile at him and wave your fingers at him. The strong and broody man grips his own once further and slams his fist against the wooden desk. His tie is loose and you can see the soft mark of your lipstick that rubbed against the white collar. Aaron's normally slicked hair is messy and fluffed against his face.

The paper sits in your hand and you can feel it burning in your back pocket of your black slacks. Whenever you get to your desk, you sit down and you can feel Emily's eyes staring a hole in your head. You turn to look at her and she leans in, “Your lipstick is all over your mouth, and you just went into Hotch’s office. What happened? Are you guys.. y'know...” She makes a motion with her hands that makes you laugh. “Oh my gosh, Em, I just ran my hand down my face. Me and Hotch are not doing anything.” You wink at her and see her mouth drop open. “I totally knew y'all were doing something. Don't think I haven't seen you guys under the tables.”

You shake her off and continue your work as Aaron emerges from his office. He fixed himself up and somehow covered his pink marked collar. “Agents,” He addresses all of you, “You are being allowed to go home early.” You hear a couple cheers and you smile at him and grab your stuff. “I need to get to the station earlier. Recently, the subways have been coming so much earlier.”

You give a hug to Jennifer and Emily before walking away with Spencer. “How has your mom been, Spence?” You ask, holding small talk with him. “Thank you for asking. I called yesterday and the nurses said she's been improving.” He tells you as he presses the elevator button, suddenly Aaron appears behind you, hand slightly touching your lower back.

“That’s great Spencer. I'm glad she's doing better.” Aaron is standing in front of your Spencer as he presses the floor to the parking garage. “Me and Spencer are going to the main entrance. Level one please.” He presses the ‘1’ button and he turns around and stares at you and Spencer. Aaron leans into your ear and tells you dangerously: “Agent Reid is going to the entrance. I'm taking you home tonight.”

It makes you swallow the anxious feeling in your throat and you nod. Aaron straightens back up, fixing his tie. Spencer has subconsciously pushed away into the wall whenever you and Aaron walk out of the elevator and leave him alone. “Bye Spencer! I'll see you tomorrow.” You wave at him and he waves back and gives you a ‘good luck’ look. Spencer had been the only one to find out about your relationship.

He found out after he accidentally walked in the wrong hallway at the wrong time. Spencer was sworn to secrecy by him after you threatened to tell people about his Star Trek boxers. You and Spencer were considered the best friends of the team, other than him and Derek. You had been around the same age and both grew up in California.

“Why the hell would you do that in front of Spencer?” You push away from Aaron’s hands. His eyebrows furrow and he raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Get in the car.” His arms cross over his chest and you see the way his suit tightens around his thick arms and the way he can't be bothered with you. It's enthralling and you almost jump into the car.

Aaron's car is sleek with black leather seats and a clean brown etching throughout. He has some soccer stuff in the back seats for Jack, but if anything it's extremely clean for a single father and a five-year old son. Your hand caresses the slick marble look of the Cadillac. Aaron opens the door to the car and turns it on. He puts his case in the back of the car. His head throws back to the seat and he adjusts his hips. Aaron's thick hands pull at his tie and loosen it. You're admiring the older man and the way he looks heavenly in the lights of the car.

Your hands fall to your thighs and you slowly squeeze them to let out your feelings from your face. His hand goes to your thigh and slides into your inner thigh and his thumb rubs gently. He can't dare to turn the radio on to take away the thick silence that wraps around your heads. You're desperately trying not to look at where his hand is as you feel his pinky finger slowly inch to just where you want him.

His name falls from your lips like poison, and Aaron wants all of it.

“Stop teasing Aaron— please touch me..” You stare up at him when his fingers caress the seam on your tight slacks. You open your legs further, and you look over and he doesn't even dare to rip his eyes from the road. His hand pushes away to the waistband of your pants. You unbutton and tug down your pants. He looks over for a second and sees the soft pink underwear you decided to wear that day.

Aaron plays with the small bow on the panties, his hand running across the waistband once more. Eventually, his hand slides in, and he falls to the most sensitive part. Small figure eights he draws on your clit as you mewl out to him. Your hips slide to the feeling and you grab onto his other hand. You can't understand how he has no reaction, and continues stares with a straight face at the empty road in front of him.

Aaron begins to finger you, only one finger inside before he adds another. Your hips grind against his hand and the pleasure almost becomes overwhelming, with the movement in your clit and him fingering you. The thick coil in your stomach is on the edge of snapping as your hips start to push instead of grinding against his hand. “I—I’m gonna cum!” You mumble out and before you know it, you cum with a snap of your hits and a cry.

“Good girl.” Hotch tells you, that voice that can make you cum just from the sound coming out. It's gravely and makes you feel warm everywhere, if you weren't already. Eventually, he pulls into his first class neighborhood, something he had worked for. The neighborhoods where houses have fountains and decorative trees surrounding.

The sleek black car pulls into his house, the garage door opening and letting him in. He shuts the car off and opens your door. Aaron lifts you in his arms, wedding bride style, and takes you inside his house. It's extravagant with huge chandeliers and tall walls and ceilings. He sets you down in the large kitchen island, your ass hitting the cold marble.

His hands reach up your white button and slowly massage your breasts through the lacy draw you decided to wear that day. Your head drops against his shoulder and you kiss gently against his neck. “I want you to fuck me, Aaron.” You tell him staring into his eyes through your eyelashes, pulling on his tie. Aaron lets out a groan and he picks you up on your thighs.

Aaron takes you to his bedroom and you swear it's bigger than your apartment. The bed is king-sized, and only takes up a small part of the room. He practically throws you against the bed, and you bounce on it, before he throws your thighs open. God, you may be strong, but he's making your muscles soft and your thighs shake.

You sit up and unbuckle the belt on his pants and unbuttone his pants and shrug them down. He's big, the tent in his pants is bigger than anything else you've seen. Maybe the 20 year olds you've hooked up before are just not the right ones, but Aaron was girthy. You pull his underwear down and his cock flings out, and you can't help but let your mouth open up.

You let your hand run up and down on his dick, rubbing his tip with your thumb. You spit in your hand, and jerk him off more, sucking softly on his top once more and licking off the precum. Aaron's hand goes to the back of your head, holding you against his dick. You mumble out once more whenever you fly up to kiss his lips and say: “I need you to fuck me now, I've already said it.”

He pushes you down against the pillows and jerks himself off a little more before opening your thighs. Aaron puts his dick in the right place and slides into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out against you. Your arms go around his neck and grab on before he slowly moves in and out. You cry out his name once he starts moving quicker, finding the pace that made you cry out the most and scratch your nails against his back.

“So good! Please Aaron, harder!” You and Aaron are clashing hips, the sound of your body hitting against each other is all you hear. He pulls your legs up on your shoulders, readjusting you until it's comfortable, and he fucks you harder than he already was. You're crying out his name as you cum and the stickiness falls throughout your body and hits the bed, but rubs against your hips and ass.

Aaron cums a few minutes later, with a groan into your neck. You're holding onto each other while your chests fall up and down in an attempt to catch your breath. “Fuck— that was amazing.” Is all you can say, and Aaron agrees. He clasps his lips against yours and you clash lips dangerously. He falls against you and you hold onto each other. Your eyes become heavy with sleep after the wild night and you fall asleep against his shoulder.

[milkbreadtoast]

Hey guys random but I wanna share this spinach pasta recipe I improvised the other day bc it's really east and tasty and a nice way to eat my greens... I've eaten it for the last several meals lol

sauce recipe (1 serving)

fresh spinach several(3?) handfuls (blended with sauce)

oat milk ~1/3 c (or a diff unsweetened milk)

small pat of butter(flavor) + 3 spoonfuls olive oil

lots of black pepper + couple shakes garlic powder (or minced garlic)

tiny pat of miso/deonjang (if u dont have it, just add more cheese, or some salt to taste)

Lots of pecorino romano or parmesan cheese (or both)

+

more handfuls spinach to eat w pasta whole, opt (several/3 handfuls; keep in mind spinach shrinks a lot when cooked) (cooked in microwave, with sauce liquid)

more cheese, black pepper, parsley etc for serving

Note: need a blender to make the spinach sauce green. I used a small bullet blender. If you don't have a blender, just cook and eat the spinach pieces whole alongside the pasta instead of blending it w the sauce, like an alfredo cream sauce.

With whole spinach pieces:

>combine sauce ingred in tall, microwave safe bowl except spinach & cheese; microwave 30 sec to melt butter/miso and mix thoroughly

>add several handfuls of spinach to the sauce liquid; this is the whole spinach pieces.

>cover + microwave for 1 min /until the spinach leaves are completely wilted and tender but still green

if u dont have a blender you'd be done here (microwave longer to reduce, add more cheese/oil to make it thicker, etc)

>add 2-3 handfuls fresh spinach into bullet blender and pour in most of the sauce liquid; Blend until fully broken down into a creamy green sauce. (add a splash more milk if it's not blending)

>combine w rest of sauce in the bowl; add cheese and microwave 30+ sec more uncovered (*i add cheese at the end bc it's harder to blend with the spinach)

Without whole spinach pieces (just green sauce): combine all sauce ingred Including spinach into bullet blender; blend until fully combined; transfer to bowl & microwave 1 min + longer as needed to reduce (uncovered)

Pasta:

> boil pasta in salted water according to directions (go a min under and test if its cooked, for al dente pasta)

> drain + return to pot, add the sauce + stir

note: if doing this method u can also make the sauce in the same pot instead of using a microwave; after draining the pasta, leave it in strainer, and make the sauce in the same pot and simmer... turn up the heat to boil + reduce as desired, then add the pasta back in and stir until hot. (If i was making a bigger portion for multiple ppl i'd prob do this)

USING LEFTOVER COOKED PASTA (this is what i did, bc i had made a lot of pasta a few days ago, and had the leftovers stored in fridge):

> microwave pasta by itself in a bowl/plate for 1 min, covered

> add the hot sauce on top of hot pasta (microwave first if it's not hot enough)

(^i microwave sauce + pasta separately to ensure the pasta stays al dente btw... if u microwave sauce with pasta it gets soft)

(If making large batches ahead I'd store the pasta and sauce separately for the same reason... I'd prob do the same thing I did, make a large batch of pasta and then make the sauce right before eating... I just hate soft pasta tho so if u dont then dw abt it🫡 lol)

> Top w extra cheese, black pepper, parsley and serve/eat immediately!!

[arcanesea]

chocolate-covered love | lee felix x reader | 496 w. GENRE: established relationship, pure fluff WARNINGS: none !!

"What kind of chocolate should I get?" you speak to the phone. You're in the middle of buying all the ingredients to make brownies with Felix. He told you to wait until he got home, but you insisted to go first and reduce the preparation time.

"We can work with any kind of chocolate, babe. Just don't get the flavored one in case it'll taste weird," Felix answered. You're always so eager when he offers to cook you something and he finds it adorable. It's not like you can't cook, hell, you're a better cook than him, but dessert? That's his specialty and you humbly admit your defeat in that specific area.

You ended up getting a pack of dark chocolate (Felix said it works well to complement the coffee, making it richer in taste), a pack of sea salt chocolate for the same reason, and also a pack of rainbow choco chips.

You were just cooking the spaghetti when he walked inside your apartment. He called your name before locating you in the kitchen with your duck apron.

"Hi," you greeted him. Trying to focus on mincing the onion and keeping an eye out for the pasta. He walked over to you before placing his hands on your waist and urging a kiss on your cheek.

"How can I help, babe?" he asked before washing his hands in the sink.

"I'm all set, lix, thank you." You said as you put aside the cooked spaghetti.

"Okay," he said before getting to his things.

Every week, in this exact space, you and Felix have your own stuff to handle. It's never silence because the both of you do a little catching up on each other's lives while cooking for dinner. You enjoy cooking for him, and in the meantime, you also enjoy watching him cook for you. After all, you completed each other's full course menu.

"Oh, you get the sea salt chocolate," Felix announced. "This is the best one."

He chopped them up, before taking one and feeding it to you.

To your surprise, it already tastes so good by itself.

"Babe." Felix laughed at your expression. "It tastes good, right?" You agree. It's probably the best chocolate, and it's addicting.

By the time Felix's brownies get into the oven, you are already plating out the spaghetti.

"Perfect timing," Felix said, helping you to tidy up the kitchen a bit before walking to the dining table.

Both of you eat slowly, exchanging words here and there, and suddenly you're left with empty plates.

"I love you," you said suddenly, seconds before the timer went off. Felix stood up with his sweetest smile, cupping your face and planting a kiss. You smile at the kiss, feeling unbelievably cheesy.

"I love you more," Felix said, pecking you once again before walking to take the brownies out.

Love, you think. Though it's not always tooth-achingly sweet, it gives you the nicest treat, making life a little more bearable.

a/n. you don't know how much i love sea-salt chocolate bar like that shit is the best out there also idk what is this i just need the sweet

[najia-cooks]

Sopa de mora salvadoreña (Salvadoran black nightshade soup)

American black nightshade (Solanum americanum)—not to be confused with bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) or deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna)—is a widespread flowering plant in the genus Solanum which grows throughout central America and Mexico, and into the northeastern United States. The genus Solanum, within the nightshade family Solanaceae, also includes tomatoes, potatoes, and eggplants.

The ripe berries of this plant, perhaps unsurprisingly, taste something like a very small tomato—but this dish concerns the plant's leaves. Sopa de mora is an earthy, savory, slightly spicy soup eaten in the countryside of El Salvador. It is made from the leaves of hierba mora, or black nightshade, in addition to squash, potato, chili, and sometimes chicken; a beaten egg or two may also be added and cooked, without stirring, directly in the soup.

A similar soup, made from black nightshade and broken pasta, is eaten in Guatemala under the name "caldo de quilete," "sopa de quilete," or "sopa de macuy." "Macuy" presumably derives from the word "majk'u'y", from Kaqchikel: a language in the Maya family spoken in central Guatemala.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Paypal | Venmo

Note that, despite the fact that black nightshade leaves are eaten all throughout the plant's native range, they contain varying amounts of toxic compounds including Solanine, and should be eaten in moderation. Avoid unripe (green) berries, and do not eat leaves raw. Some people advise pre-boiling the leaves and discarding the boiling water to remove toxins.

Ingredients:

Large bunch of American black nightshade (Solanum americanum), Eastern black nightshade (Solanum ptychanthum), or European black nightshade (Solanum nigrum) leaves, washed and chopped

1/2 white onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 tomato, diced

1 jalapeño, sliced

1 small russet potato, diced

1 chayote fruit (güisquil), diced (optional)

1 small carrot, sliced (optional)

Water or vegetable stock

I used water, and found that the vegetables and leaves gave the soup plenty of flavor; but it's not unusual to use vegetable or chicken stock.

Instructions:

Sauté onion and garlic on medium in a large stockpot until onions are softened and translucent.

Add garlic and sauté until light golden brown.

Add tomato and salt and sauté until softened and nearly dry.

Add remaining ingredients, plus water to cover. Boil until vegetables and leaves are softened, 15-20 minutes. Taste and adjust salt.

Identifying American black nightshade

These are quick notes rather than a complete guide. Don't forage unless you know what you're doing!

Leaves are alternate; ovate or lanceolate; with entire to undulate to blunty dentate margins. Flowers are about 1cm in diameter; white to light purple; with yellow stamens. Berries are green when unripe, and glossy and black when ripe. They grow in clusters. Calyxes are smaller than the berries, and curl away from them. Ripe berries, unripe berries, and flowers often appear on the same branch.

Avoid the green, unripe berries, which are toxic.

Lookalikes

Bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) is poisonous. It has berries that are green when unripe, and bright red when ripe. Black nightshade has berries that are green when unripe, and black when ripe.

Deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna) is poisonous. It has a calyx extending far beyond the berry, and the berries grow singly. Black nightshade has a calyx smaller than the berry, and its berries grow in clusters.

Eastern black nightshade (Solanum ptychanthum) is also in the Solanum nigrum complex and is sometimes considered synonymous with American black nightshade. It is edible, and may also be used in this recipe. Leaves are alternate; ovate or lanceolate. Leaf margins have 2-5 blunt teeth at the base, but become smooth and pointed at the tip. The base is rounded or cuneate (wedge-shaped). Petioles are winged with extensions of the leaf blade.

Flowers are about 1cm in diameter; white to light purple; with yellow stamens. Berries are green when unripe, and glossy and black when ripe; and grow in clusters.

[s0m3b0dy2u]

╰┈➤ 2nd Musician DR Discography ♰

!! My music is, in most cases, abstract metaphorical representations of my feelings, and does typically not reflect myself as a person. I do not condone eating your loved ones or deifying yourself !! //CW: Possible Mentions of Cannibalism, Sadism, Blood, Religious Trauma & Autotheism, etc.//

┆ ⤿ ♰ ⌗ CANNIBAL SOUP .ᐟ

Concept: CANNIBAL SOUP centers around the act of consuming someone in a physical or emotional (but, of course, metaphorical) sense. Themes of hunger, desire, and control mainly dominate the songs, with me taking the role of the devourer—someone who takes without remorse. It represents, in a lot of ways, the way I see myself—particularly when it comes to relationships—but is greatly exaggerated.

Cover Art: A dark image of me seated at the head of a lavish, gothic dinner table, a bowl of soup steaming ominously before me, with indistinct shapes in the liquid.

Release Date: July 10th, 2022

Style:

CANNIBAL SOUP Theme: The idea of taking everything from someone—portraying consumption as an act of intimacy and power. Lyrics Excerpt: I don’t need permission, I don’t ask “May I?” / Your body’s the altar, your heart’s the prize / The salt of your secrets, the spice of your sins— / I’ll take every piece; this hunger always wins

BITE ME Theme: An insatiable appetite, consumption as seduction—this track is about pursuing someone purely to devour them. Lyrics Excerpt: Bite me, break me / I’ll still take you completely / Surrender every piece, don’t fight me— / Your screams just excite me

BLOOD & WINE Theme: A slower, more atmospheric track about savoring the act of consumption. It likens devouring someone to drinking the finest wine—luxurious and intoxicating. Lyrics Excerpt: You’re not alive; you’re a feast divine / Your essence spills, like blood and wine / Drink deep, my love, you’re all that’s mine— / A sinner’s banquet, my blood and wine

┆ ⤿ ♰ ⌗ Love's Leftovers .ᐟ

Concept: An obsessive, consuming love that eventually leads to betrayal and emotional ruin. My emotions are mirrored in the act of consuming an ex, only to find that the taste, once savored, leaves me cold. The cannibalism here is less about power and hunger and more about consumption as a result of emotional desperation. Regularly, I would divulge more details, but I recently found myself bitter over the relationship that inspired this album again.

Cover Art: A dimly lit fridge slightly ajar, revealing food containers with unsettling contents. The faint silhouette of my figure is reflected in the fridge door.

Release Date: February 14th, 2023

Style:

Leftovers Theme: Reflecting on how I gave my all, only to end up with scraps. My ex is reduced simply to "leftovers." Lyrics Excerpt: I held you close, I kept you fresh / But love decayed; I’m just a mess / Every bite was laced with pain / I fear I’ll never crave you again

Flesh & Bone Theme: My hunger for love became so overwhelming that I started to see my ex as something to consume, but the reality of it turned my stomach, and I couldn't finish. Lyrics Excerpt: Your body was my feast / But the taste turned bitter in my mouth / I couldn’t swallow what I craved / The hunger died before it was out

Rotting Heart Theme: The metaphor of a rotting heart expresses the decay of love, which once felt alive but is now little more than a festering wound. Lyrics Excerpt: This rotting heart still cries for the love it once knew / But I can’t take the taste anymore, it’s true / Every pulse is a wound that keeps bleeding— / I’ll bury it deep, though it’s still beating

Fridge Door Theme: The ex now sits as a "leftover," trapped in the fridge of my mind. The fridge symbolizes emotional preservation, but it’s cold, sterile, and empty. Lyrics Excerpt: I can’t throw you out; I can’t let you stay / Love’s leftovers don’t rot, they just decay / A piece of you haunts every bite / Cold as ice in the dead of night

Spoiled Theme: Time has spoiled the love that we once shared. I see the remnants of what was good in the relationship, but it's decayed. I long for the love that was, but now it’s an emotional carcass—unfit for consumption. Lyrics Excerpt: I let you sit, I held on tight / But love doesn’t last in the coldest light / You’ve curdled, cracked, you’ve come undone / And I’m left starving, alone with none

Burned Bridges Theme: The relationship is irreparable, and all that’s left is anger and resentment. There’s no going back. Lyrics Excerpt: I watched the flames dance in your eyes / A burning truth, a lover’s disguise / But now the bridges are all gone / And I’m left here to carry on

Waste Not Theme: An almost bittersweet final track where I accept that the relationship was a waste. I’ll never truly “consume” my ex, but I’ll forever be left with the lingering taste. Lyrics Excerpt: You’re the taste I can’t forget / Waste not, want not—nothing left to regret / I’ll carry your shadow, but never your flame / Waste not, want not—it’s all the same

┆ ⤿ ♰ ⌗ 666 .ᐟ

Concept: The journey from being trapped within the confines of religious dogma to shattering those chains and proclaiming one’s own divinity. For most of my life I've grown up in a strictly and almost overbearing Christian household. One where I was told I couldn't do what I wanted to do or be who I wanted to be, and I tried my hardest to obey when I was young, but as I've grown it became harder and harder. This is basically saying screw you to my religious upbringing. !! Let me be clear: I respect every religion, but I don't respect being told who I "need to be." I am not trying to shit on any religion, nor genuinely deify myself !!

Cover Art: In the background, a dimly lit cathedral with cracked walls and broken stained-glass windows. In the center of the image, me, shirtless and adorned with intricate, dark tattoos that mimic angelic and demonic symbols. My head is tilted back slightly, a crown of thorns resting on my head, and blood dripping from it. My shadow casts a monstrous shape with a burning halo, horns, wings, and multiple arms. The number “666” is subtly incorporated into the cracks of the cathedral walls.

Release Date: October 31, 2023

Style:

Blasphemy Hymn Theme: Rejection of religious indoctrination. This track expresses anger and rebellion against a religious upbringing. Lyrics Excerpt: I spat the wine, I broke the bread / A heretic’s prayer for the living dead / They said kneel; I said no / Now I burn in the fire below

Saint of Nothing Theme: This track reflects on the damage inflicted by blind devotion. It’s a lament but also a critique. Lyrics Excerpt: Take your halos, take your prayers / Your faith is a burden I refuse to bear / Saint of nothing, that’s all I’ll be / A hollow title that means nothing to me

Halo on Fire Theme: This track symbolizes the destruction of innocence and the betrayal of trust, and marks the start of freedom outside of any said religion. Lyrics Excerpt: They promised salvation, a golden light / But the truth was hidden in endless night / Their prayers were poison, their words a noose / I broke their chains and called it truce

Crown of Thorns (King of Me) Theme: A powerful anthem of self-deification, where I declare myself my own god and savior. Lyrics Excerpt: If no god will save me, I’ll become one instead / A crown of thorns on my mortal head / They prayed for my soul; I claimed it as mine / The king of me, divine by design

666 (The Fall) Theme: The track is chaotic and defiant, marking the “fall” of religious authority and the rise of my self-created dominion. Lyrics Excerpt: No heaven, no hell, just a throne of my own / A kingdom of ashes, a god made alone / I am the reckoning, the end of their creed / Their scripture burns; I plant the seed

┆ ⤿ ♰ ⌗ The Fall of Rome .ᐟ

Concept: This album is a vent project wrapped in the historical narrative of the downfall of the Roman Empire, where I reflect on my own life through allegories of political corruption, war, religious shifts, and societal collapse.

Cover Art: The cover art for The Fall of Rome portrays me standing in the ruins of what’s supposed to be an ancient Roman city. The sky is ominous, a blend of deep reds and smoky blacks. The most striking detail is a golden laurel slipping from my fingers, halfway to the ground.

Release Date: April 20, 2024

Style:

Pax Deceptiva Theme: A façade of stability—pretending everything is fine when it’s all falling apart. A warning of what’s to come. Lyrics Excerpt: We were told that peace would reign / But lies are the chains that hold us in place / The streets may shine, but inside it’s all decay / Pax Deceptiva, this false peace we’re made to obey

Heirs to Calligula Theme: I compare my parents to cruel, decadent emperors like Caligula and Nero—ruling through manipulation, indulgence, and destruction. Lyrics Excerpt: They took the throne with silver lies / Like Caligula, they ruled through fear in disguise / The lavish feasts were never enough / Their hunger for power kept me bound and rough

Stolen Pantheon Theme: My parents switched belief systems almost as easily as an empire changes rulers. I explores how their sudden religious shifts felt like having other religion’s gods stolen and repainted. Lyrics Excerpt: Like Rome, they claimed what they couldn’t own / They made new gods from what they had outgrown / From Zeus to Christ, they made the leap / But I never knew which god I was supposed to keep

Lead in the Water Theme: Comparing my struggles with anxiety, depression, and other mental health complications to the slow poisoning of Rome’s citizens through lead-tainted water. The things that were meant to sustain me were ultimately what killed me inside. Lyrics Excerpt: Lead in the water, it’s all that I know / A poisoned existence, but I never show / The pressure mounts, I can barely breathe / Yet I walk in circles, and still, I believe

Bread and Circuses Theme: Fake happiness, empty entertainment. I reflect on how people ignore their suffering by numbing themselves with shallow distractions—something I, too, have been guilty of. Lyrics Excerpt: Bread and circuses, to keep us in line / They feed us hope, but it’s just a lie we buy / We watch the flames, but never ask why / Bread and circuses, until we die

Enemy at the Gates Theme: I feel like both the empire trying to defend itself and the barbarian tearing it down. Lyrics Excerpt: Every step I take, I’m running from the truth / A self-imposed exile, afraid of the proof / The gates stand tall, but I can’t stand still / Every moment I hesitate, they break me at will

Et Tu? Theme: Betrayal is worse when it’s from those you trust most. I see my past betrayals (by family, friends, lovers, etc.) as my own Julius Caesar moment. Lyrics Excerpt: You promised loyalty, you swore to stay / But in the end, you turned away / Your words were sweet, your smile so kind / But you were the dagger that twisted behind

Ruins of an Empire Theme: Even after leaving my past behind, I still carry the weight of it. Lyrics Excerpt: I watched it burn from the highest halls / The empire shattered, the kingdom falls / The walls that held me came apart / Now I’m lost, a piece of broken art

┆ ⤿ ♰ ⌗ 3:33 AM .ᐟ

Concept: Late-night existentialism—fleeting thoughts at the edge of sleep, surreal memories, and eerie self-reflections. The EP plays with themes of regret, dissociation, paranoia, nostalgia, and fleeting hope.

Cover Art: A digital clock reading "3:33 AM." The numbers are slightly blurred and distorted.

Release Date: August 23, 2024

Style:

Static // Silence // Repeat Theme: Intrusive thoughts, feeling stuck in a mental loop. Lyrics Excerpt: I swear I left this moment behind / but here it is again—same breath, same time / The clock is a liar, it’s stuck in rewind / Every thought I erase just multiplies

untitled Theme: Dissociation, losing time, and questioning reality. Lyrics Excerpt: Every mirror holds a stranger’s face / But they all blink when I blink too / I leave the room, but the echoes stay / The shadows talk when I walk through

Mouthful of Glass, Pocketful of Teeth Theme: Self-inflicted pain, speaking but not being heard, a metaphor for feeling voiceless. Lyrics Excerpt: You said "speak," but never heard / So I let my teeth collect the words / They gathered dust between my ribs / Brittle, broken, counterfeit

I swear I saw you in my dreams last night, but when I woke up, your face was gone. Theme: Lost love, fleeting nostalgia, the fear of forgetting someone important. Lyrics Excerpt: How many dreams will I have to lose / Before I stop searching for you / The air still smells like yesterday / The echoes refuse to fade away

No One Knows I'm Awake Theme: Insomnia, paranoia, isolation, feeling like the world is moving without you. Lyrics Excerpt: Locked inside the hour’s grip / Ticking hands, electric hiss / I trace the cracks in the ceiling’s skin / Still waiting for the dark to let me in

... Theme: Acceptance, fading away, surrendering to the night. Lyrics Excerpt: Turn off the light, close my eyes / but the dark still hums behind my mind / Counting breaths, counting sheep / Counting all the things I shouldn’t keep

Images: Pinterest | Dividers: Myself