#prompt: beginnings

[redandbrown]

Romione microfic prompt: beginnings. @romionemicrofic

Couch Plans

Rated: G

Hermione sat on the cozy worn couch in the Weasleys’ living room and hugged her knees to her chest.

Of all the challenges they had faced in the past year- the hunt, the doubt, the hunger, the cold and damp, the uncertainty- this was by far the hardest.

The cushion sunk deeper with the weight of Ron’s large form joining her.

“Accio blanket,” he called.

Hermione felt the blanket envelope them both as he put his arm around her. She laid her head on his warm chest and instantly felt sleepy.

“Another funeral down,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“So many more to go,” she sighed.

“Hell of a time to start dating,” he lamented.

Hermione pulled her head back to look at him. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“What?! No! I just meant this isn’t how I wanted it to start!”

“How did you want it to start?”

Ron’s ears turned red. “With, you know, taking you out, seeing you in a pretty dress…”

Hermione’s face split into a wide grin. “Yeah?”

Ron couldn’t help but grin back. “Yeah,” he confirmed.

She sat up to kiss him. “It’s a deal, Ron Weasley. When all these funerals are over, you can take me out, and I’ll wear a pretty dress, just for you.”

“Wicked!” He said and she giggled.

[romionemicrofic]

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[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

The Joker was apprehended, sitting on the ground as Batman guarded him, but the kid--"Bruce Wayne's newest ward, how tragic! Hehehe!"--was nowhere to be found. Nightwing and Red Hood desperate searched the warehouse until a shuffling noise grabbed their attention.

A kid, black haired just like the kid in the Joker's broadcast, crawling out of a pile of boxes. "Is it over?" the boy asked quietly.

Nightwing guided him to the only exit, unfortunately walking past the boy's own kidnapper. "Yeah, kid. It's over. Come on-"

Like a shot, the boy rushed the Joker and kicked him right in the balls.

The Joker wheezed like a dying squeaky toy. Red Hood froze. Nightwing immediately snatched the boy up by the armpits, but all that did was give the boy the height to attack again, punting Joker in the jaw. The clown went down and cracked his head on the floor. He did not get back up.

There was a moment of silence before Red Hood roared with laughter, his helmet distorting the sound.

[livinghalfway]

Look-alike

In recent years there is a charity look-alike competition based around the Wayne family, and at the end a big picture is taken with the family and the look-alikes standing next to each other. Now, the thing about this competition is that everyone jokes about it being a way for Bruce to scope out any black haired blue eyed children that he might want to adopt.

Danny entered as a joke, 100% not expecting for anything to come out of it. Sure he matched the signature look, but so did a hundred other people in Gotham. There was no reason for him to be picked out of everyone that applied. Of course that is what he thought before he was standing on stage next to his look-alike.

It gets even worse for Danny when everyone starts saying that he is the closest doppelganger they’ve ever seen, and questioning if the two are actually related to one another. These comments would be something he would just sweep under the rug, but now the whole Wayne family is looking at him with curious eyes.

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade and Logan choosing each other in different realities

[emacrow]

The Justice League hasn't heard from John in four months. It was Zatanna who got concerned first when his phone was disconnected.

Batman found out that he died saving an important little girl named ellie from a group of drug trafficker using her as a battery. How paled zatanna was said about the girl and John's deceased body disappeared in a green portal afterward, telling him what level of apocalypse could have accurate if she had died.

Zatanna Investigating the house of mysteries was the next plan of action, considering only Zatanna and Deadman knew that house was claimed by John with an amount of cursed items, books, and every other apocalypse related items.

Zatanna was only going to place seals upon and inside the house, so nobody would attempt to enter ever, except the house wouldn't let her open the front door.

Her blood felt ice cold as she kept trying to pull the door open, but no budge.

That was where she brought the Justice league in, thinking only someone sinister and patience enough placed a claim on the house after John died because if they did.

This was a code blood moon to them. This could be the universe ending on the other side if whoever had control in the house has every cursed item, weapons, and apocalypse making ritual books imaginable that John had collected over the years.

Before J'onn could slip intangible through the house, the door opened to reveal.... Ellie?

The girl who disappeared, wearing a red beanie and a bright smile.

"Oh good, John said you all would probably come here like headless chickens. Come in!" Ellie said, leaving the door open as she floated back inside.

The Justice League and zatanna look dumbfounded before J'onn, the brave soul went in first, saying that he felt no threat.

The house of mysteries seems to have a new type of decoration done, though still very creepy. Safety baby locks, anti plug in, and a bunch of ghost related toddler toys lay around.

A very massive in height man wearing a gravity defying cloak full of stars, hair whiter then snow with constellations braids with the stars themselves sat in the couch that was obviously too much for his massive form.

A squealing little toddler wearing a soft orange jumper with purple hair giggling loudly every time he smack his tiny hands hard onto a board with a bunch of green blob in 9 holes popping out randomly like some ghost theme whack a mole.

Zatanna glanced, looking down at the little boy and then back at the familiar massive tower entity smiling softly, his stardust freckles luminous glowing green with the frozen frost crown with nebula emblems inside floating innocently on his head as her eyes widen a bit.

"Zatanna, who is this guy?" Superman said, concerned in the back. The Justice League didn't know where to go defensive mode or stand down as there was a child present.

She bowed on her knees immediately on the ground, her eyes teary up with a sense of relief.

"I greet thy infinite Realm, Danny Phan-"

"Zatanna, I told you four times in a role. It's not worth repeating my whole titles. You can call me Danny, and no, i didn't win John's soul... I merely adopted him." Danny waves his hands lightly, miniature dwarf star float around lightly before reabsorbed back in his palm.

"It took me 5 years of planning with clockwork and ellie after John helped my realms from the GIW and their plan to make my people into non-living, and living batteries, even though the Justice League had help along with disbanding them. He grew onto me and my family, and seeing what would've become his cheese grated soul after he died was a big no-no in my book." Danny said softly, Ellie popping behind from his mass of white hair.

"I helped, even though now I'm a bit younger than I am now after that whole pretend to get captured by amateur traffickers, but I'd owed constantine for that prank idea for Dan."

The Justice League awkwardly sat on the opposite couch that suddenly appeared, zatanna sitting on the floor a few feet away from John, still playing on a ghost themed whack a mole board.

"Why is John acting like this?" Zatanna asked softly, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her moisten eyes.

"Well, with the combination added years of his much overdue life, by cheating, swindling and dealing with the Supernatural, Gods, faes, and demons alongside the amount of pushed down trauma and PTSD John accumulated in his barely to be call a soul piece after dying in a perfect way for ectoplasm to fixed all of that to made him into a halfa." Danny continues to explain softly.

"His halfa core couldn't handle the weight of it all his soul pieces put together again, especially with his main soul piece being the size of broken miniature ball even after the others entities figured out I claimed and relinquished their contracts because they know I outrank them all, but John's core couldn't handle being put together all at once like that, especially how long he was with barely much of his soul left in the end once he died."

"In a simple way, all His memories, skills and everything in each soul pieces that was taken in between like a giant block of cheese being forced into a tiny mash sieve that was his current mind and body state right now, what Frostbite explain to me." Danny explained simpler with conjuring a solid glob of ectoplasm in his left hand, being pushed in a mold of mini sieve, barely any being pushed out except a couple of glowing liquid dripping.

"John is still the same John, only at where he was his safest mind state before all those deals, trauma, and everything that resulted into what he was, then that slowly returns with time. Only he is free now." Danny finished softly smiling, watching John ripe out a oooing blob ghost from the board with a gleeful squeal, smacking it on the board with delight, his tiny legs kicking in excitement.

Part 1 here <- part 3 -> here

[justaz]

merlin falling to his knees after sending arthur out onto the lake and then just. staying there. he was planning on staying until his body gave out from dehydration but he just...never died. he kept waking up to the same sight of the lake, the day around him a bit different. yet he never moved. he remained on the shore of that lake as nature began to claim him, growing over his body as if he were just a stone on the ground. merlin never moves. he is arthur's servant. he'd follow arthur everywhere. if he couldn't...well then, he'll wait right outside. he'll wait right here. he'll wait for arthur.

[kiko-klept]

“Claws/Fangs”

[bitch-i-migth-be]

In which Jack & Janet Drake manage to neglect their toddler to death and have to find a replacement before the police or, god forbid, the media tears them apart.

It’s a good thing the US Government is getting rid of the GIW’s highly immoral test subjects before the JL can crack down on them.

Ha. Jokes on you, Jason.  ‘Tim’ has always been the replacement.

[muffin-snakes-art]

Failboat’s family!!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 333

I once more believe Battinson Batman needs to be given a child. Or multiple. Multiple children. I am also once more rotating Ghosts Have Wings Au. 

So Batman, still early in his whole vigilante career ends up busting a shipment, nothing too surprising there. Pretty usual honestly. Except for what was in one of the crates already open. Because it looks like some sort of gemstones but… perfectly spherical. Strange. Suspicious. 

But it’s also late, er, early in the morning, and the GCPD is notoriously corrupt, so like, he’s not going to just leave the weird gemstones, each about the size of a plum or so. (Dear Gotham he’s apparently hungry, and might inwardly vow to never let anyone realize what his tired mind decided to use as measurement) 

So he, unknowingly spurred on by more than just a slight bit of ecto contamination, takes the strange spheres back home. Just puts them in his pockets and heads back to the manor that they moved back into after the whole Riddler mess. (He even found a cool cave! With a bunch of terrifying bats, but they made a glass separator! For safety!) 

But in Bruce’s defense of forgetting about them, he’s more than a little tired and hungry and just wants to sleep for a bit, y’know? So maybe he forgets about the gems as he falls asleep in the chair in the cave (Alfred was not pleased!) until he starts digging around for them. Erm. Did they fall out somewhere?? There’s no holes in his belt pockets… 

And maybe these sort of things shouldn’t slip his mind, the spheres had felt Weird with a capital W, but he gets forced to a circus and there’s an… accident. So maybe he pushed it away as not important because there’s now an angry grieving eight-year old living with him and he’s panickedly reading any and all sort of parenting books he can get a hold of because he has no clue what he’s doing. 

Yeah, maybe his back is itching like crazy no matter what he tries, and maybe he threw up the other day, but it’s fine. This is fine. 

….

Oh dear Gotham those are feathers, this is not fine- ALFREEED!

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Omg hear me out, we get an Eddie begins but through the lens of Chris. So Chris is staying in Eddie's childhood home, and goes into Eddie's childhood room or goes through old boxes and photos. And we see flashbacks based on these, and through learning all these things Chris starts to understand his dad more. And at the end, Chris finally calls his dad and says he wants to come home.

[BUT- during this episode we also see Eddie in therapy and processing his life as a whole, but then on a call there's a building collapse and he's buried under the rubble. He's in an air pocket, and as he teaches for his phone to call Chris, he sees Chris is calling. He doesn't tell Chris he's hurt, he just says that he loves him and he'll see him soon. The episode ends with him losing consciousness]

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 11

"A contract," the creature croaked, freezing Tim in place.

"What?" He asked, stunned. He knew he should run, he knew he shouldn't trust whatever magic nonsense this was turning into but...whoever or whatever this was sounded desperate.

Green glowing liquid had came together to make the vague shape of a person on the ground, "A contract," the creature repeated, "Care for me and give me energy, and in return I will serve and protect you."

Red Robin hesitated, "How do I know you're not going to stab me in the back the first chance you get."

"I need to feed." The thing gasped, "I need a host. I can negotiate"

Tim can negotiate too, and if there's one thing his 17 year old co-ceo self knew by now, it was contracts.

After the contract was completed, the being passed out and a bright white flash left a relatively normal looking boy in its place

Somehow the entity, now known as Danny, had been stolen away by Alfred and is undergoing butler training cause now Tim has his own personal butler...who is only a year younger than him and some kind of Pit Demon

[buzzcutlip]

For @tyferbebe who requested "You know you didn't have to get me anything" & Touch starved from my Winter prompts list <3 I changed the sentence a little bit

Not Monday Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Rated E (oral sex) 2170 words

You have a massive, ginormous crush on your neighbour, Carmen Berzatto. You find him extremely good-looking—even though he might not be the typical hot guy type—and the fact that he’s a successful chef takes things to an even higher level. The fact that he’s been capable of running some of the best restaurants in the world definitely impresses you, and, frankly, turns you on in all sorts of ways.

Hi, are you at home?

Mind if I pop in for a sec?

The two messages from Carmy show up on the screen of your phone, and you simultaneously panic and get excited. You’ve just returned from the Christmas family visit late last night, and now you’re in the middle of unpacking, sorting out dirty laundry, and eating leftovers. The urge to put on at least a bit of makeup and change out of your old sweatpants is strong, but on the other hand, you’re worried that Carmen’s plan might change if you don’t respond immediately.

Sure, come over!

The next second, you hear the door opposite yours open and shut, followed by a quick rap on your entrance door. When you open it, you’re still clutching your phone in one hand.

“Wow, you’re quick,” you blurt out with a laugh. Carmy smiles back, his dimples appearing, and your heart swells. Your eyes quickly roam over his form and face, hoping that he won’t notice your obvious gluttonous interest.

“I’m returning the screwdriver,” Carmen says, handing you the tool he borrowed at the beginning of December.

“Oh, thank you.” This has become a game you two play. Not so innocent on your side, as you would often come up with silly reasons, but hopefully convincing ones, to either visit Carmy or invite him over to your place—to borrow a cup of flour, ask him to change a bulb, or help you move the sofa. On the other hand, Carmen’s been over to yours for small favors like shirt ironing, sewing a button on his chef whites, or suggestions for Natalie’s birthday present.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say quickly, clutching the screwdriver like it’s a precious artifact. “I just got back last night and haven’t really… sorted everything out yet.”

Carmen shrugs, a little smile playing at his lips. “Looks fine to me.” His eyes linger for a moment on the half-open suitcase spilling clothes onto the floor before they return to you. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s caught between being bashful and wanting to stay longer.

“So, uh, how was your trip?” he asks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. You know that despite The Bear being closed for the Christmas holidays, Carmen was probably busy coming up with new dishes and similar things. No rest for the wicked.

You’re a little surprised by the question—he doesn’t usually linger after these quick exchanges. “Good. A little chaotic, but that’s family for you.” Carmen knows about your mother and three siblings—each of you with a different father—and how intense she gets.

Carmen chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you wonder if it’s possible to bottle it. You’d play it on repeat whenever you needed cheering up. “I can imagine.”

“Oh—wait! I’ve got something for you,” you suddenly remember and reach into your suitcase to fish out a small package adorned with a green ribbon.

Carmen’s eyes widen, flicking between you and the package as you hand it to him. “It’s Belgian chocolate. Milk with roasted almonds and sea salt,” you quickly explain. “One of my older brother’s father is Belgian. He always sends a lot of chocolates. I think he doesn’t remember how old we are anymore,” you shrug. “This is my favorite.”

Carmen’s face softens as he looks at the package in your hand, and he hesitates for just a moment before taking it. His fingers brush yours, and you don’t miss the way he notices it too—his eyes darting to yours for a fraction of a second.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, his voice quieter, almost shy. “It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “I mean, you’ve helped me out so many times. And besides…” You trail off, shrugging again as you feel a little self-conscious. “I thought you might like it.”

Carmen studies the package for a moment before meeting your eyes again. There’s something so earnest about the way he looks at you, it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thanks…Uhm—I didn’t get you anything.”

You wave your hand dismissively, shaking your head as you try to mask the pang of disappointment you feel, even though you honestly hadn’t expected a present from Carmy. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like that.”

Carmen’s shoulders relax slightly, though his brows remain knitted together like he’s still mulling it over. “Still… I feel bad now,” he mutters.

“You really don’t have to,” you insist, a small laugh escaping you. “I mean, unless you wanna give me the New Year’s kiss I didn’t get.”

When you blurt out the last sentence, your eyes widen as you realize what you just said. You quickly laugh again, only this time it sounds a bit forced. “I guess I take that from my mom—finding the right guy who would stick around is not my strength,” you ramble on uncomfortably, trying your best to get out of the situation with as much dignity as possible.

Carmen looks genuinely caught off guard, like he’s not sure if you’re joking or not. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, spreading all the way to your ears. “You serious, or…?”

Your heart skips—no, jumps—at his words. The laugh that escapes you now is soft, nervous, and entirely unplanned. “I mean… maybe?” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carmen’s eyes flicker to yours as he steps just a little closer, the tension between you so thick you can almost touch it. “You tell me,” he says conspiratorially, his voice even softer now.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he leans in, his movements careful, like he’s giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, your lips brushing his just barely, soft and tentative.

It’s you who leans back first, afraid of him ending the kiss. Only now do you realize you’re wearing old sweatpants and a stretched-out t-shirt, your face completely makeup-free. Carmen’s seen you at The Bear, when you went there for dinner with a friend—all dressed up in fancy clothes and carefully styled hair. “I’m a mess,” you state, still vibrating from the little kiss.

“You always look pretty,” Carmy says quietly with a small smile, sounding genuine. You want nothing more than to kiss him some more, so you ask: “Was that just a one-time—” but before you have a chance to finish your question, or even your thought, Carmy’s lips are on yours again, and your brain short-circuits.

Your bed is hiding behind an old antique paravent you bought in Boston when you first moved here. The bed itself is large, just how you like it, with a solid wood-carved headboard. That’s where you end up together.

The touch of your tongue against Carm’s is intoxicating; the taste of his kiss is absolutely addictive. You moan into the kiss needily, the sound catching in the back of your throat, and blush furiously at your own reaction.

Despite how much you hate admitting it, it’s been years since you kissed someone like this—since a guy has touched you like Carmen is now. His hands roam up and down your sides under your jumper, squeezing the meat of your thighs, enveloping you heavily, wholly.

Carmy’s solid weight above you is grounding and electrifying all at once. Your hands find their way under his hoodie, fingers brushing against his warm skin, the wiry strength of muscle a reminder of how physical his life is. He lets out a quiet, almost shy groan when your nails graze his back, and you feel the sound in your chest as much as you hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks between kisses, his voice husky, his breath warm against your neck. The care in his tone makes your stomach flip. “Yes,” you whisper, arching into him.

That seems to give him permission, and his touch grows bolder. He pushes your shirt up, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, each kiss deliberate. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep still under his attention, your head tilting restlessly, your teeth sinking into your lip to stifle the embarrassing noises spilling from you.

When Carmen leans away and up, you almost protest. He sits back on his haunches between your spread legs, all flushed cheeks and messy hair. He looks adorable and also devastatingly hot. Before you can say anything, he swiftly takes off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, and you finally have the opportunity to admire his bare torso.

The second you want to get up to explore his torso properly with your hands—and maybe your mouth—he stops you.

“Lie back,” Carmy gently nudges you into position, and you obey willingly, watching him curiously.

Carmen’s gaze is heavy, filled with an intensity that sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as he studies you quietly. All you can do is watch as he reaches down for the waist of your sweatpants.

“Can I…” he trails off, leaning down to kiss the sliver of bare skin peeking between the waistband and the jumper. Immediately, you nod, letting him know he has your consent. You even help him push the garment down your legs and off. His calloused fingers are warm, rough in a way that contrasts beautifully with how gently he’s touching you. You feel like you’re about to melt into the bed.

A sudden stillness forces you to open your eyes to check on Carmy. He’s staring down, right between your legs.

“It’s not Monday,” he says, sensing your eyes on him.

“Whaat?”

He touches his thumb to your pelvis bone. “Here. It says ‘Monday.’”

Confused, you look down. It takes you only about two seconds to understand that he’s referring to the word on your panties, just above a picture of daisies.

“Shut up,” you nudge him with your knee, laughing.

He chuckles low, his breath fanning against your skin as he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I’m just observant,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin between words, sending a violent shiver up your spine with the tender contact.

“And for the record, these”—he hooks a finger under the elastic, tugging gently—“are cute as hell.”

Then, instead of taking your underwear off as you expect, he takes your hand in his and pulls it down to your crotch—a silent invitation to touch yourself. You do, feeling your heart in your throat, turned on and shy in equal measures. Carmen watches as you stroke yourself through your panties, hesitantly at first. You’ve been wet since the moment you two started kissing, the damp patch on the pale blue fabric drawing Carmy’s eyes.

He lowers himself, planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs and moving higher, closer to your core. He kisses your hand too, mouthing at it with his tongue as if it were your mouth—or your pussy. You can’t believe something so innocent can feel so sexual, and you let out a stream of soft moans. With every passing second, you’re closer and closer to voicing out loud that it’s time for the main act.

Carmen seems to sense it—your need, your desperation. His gaze flickers up to your face, heavy-lidded, and he murmurs, “Don’t rush. Let me take care of you.” His voice is a low rasp, full of tenderness and heat.

The way he’s looking at you sends another ripple of arousal straight through you, and your breath catches when he pulls the soaked crotch of your panties aside, kissing your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck. Carmy,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

He hums against you, not letting up, giving you a hard lick—one that ends right at your sensitive clit. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft strands as his lips and tongue explore you. You can feel his breath against your skin, the way it hitches every time you squirm or let out a sound. All the sensations are new, overwhelming, and intense in the best possible way.

Carmen doesn’t stop, doesn’t hesitate. His mouth is warm, deliberate, and unrelenting. The rough drag of his tongue paired with the softness of his lips makes your head spin. Each stroke feels like he’s memorizing you, mapping out what makes you gasp and moan with the precision of someone determined to get it right.

[mischievous-thunder]

How their journey started:

How their relationship officially started: