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{{ My OC Aesthetics:: Mercy Morris [Modern AU]

(AC Syndicate OC)

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He immediately pulled back, kissing at the spot again, unable to stop grinning. “God, Evie, you’re so fucking perfect.” It wasn’t a jibe or a complaint. Pecking her on the cheek Jacob added, pride audible in his voice; “Just like that, good girl.” Something jumped in his gut; reinvigorated excitement, an oddly pure joy. As long as she told him when to stop, and he did so, he was much more confident in letting himself go for it. “Now-”

“Now that we know you’ll be honest…” he purred, the hand that wasn’t holding her against him skimming up over the curve of her waist, running a firm thumb over the peak of a breast before massaging the other, hand bumping her defensive arm out of the way. “...It really was quite rude to keep me waiting. Not so much as a text to tell me when you’d be home.” He was surprisingly nimble-fingered, undoing the buttons of her blouse easily despite being unable to see his task. Palming a breast, he added, smirking; “Leaving me alone with my imagination.” Leaving one, his touch slid beneath fabric, fingers not entirely gentle as they played with the other.

“You turn me into a real twisted fuck, you know that?” He was well on his way to being rock hard, and that could not be more apparent as he held her tight against him. Without a trace of shame he ground his hips against her, curious if she’d try to wriggle away. The good thing about reliable use of safe words was that struggling became possible. And he hadn’t spent years at the gym to let his fighting skills go to waste.

dead dove do not read {explicit}

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Specify the verse and char please! :3

Send 📖 and I will share an entry in my muse’s journal/diary!

Feel free to specify a certain topic, person, date, or anything else you’d like to see!

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{{ My OC Aesthetics:: Elizabeth Boone [Modern AU]

(AC Syndicate OC, as featured in Confession and Braids)

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It shouldn’t have been so hot to hear that one little word from her, but for some reason it was. Or… maybe it wasn’t just hitting on something for his erotic imagination. No, it was something else… Almost like… pride. Proud of her, proud of himself; an assuredness that he was doing things the right way, that he was giving her what she wanted.

...God, he was such a dweeb sometimes. Still, her affirmation had him grinning, nipping at her ear.

“Will you tell me what were you thinking about? Before I got home?”

“I don’t know… you kept me waiting an awful long time. You think you deserve to know?”

An idea popped into his head, and with a sudden curiosity he raised his free hand to push aside wisps of hair, tugging her collar open a bit. As suspected, his bites were almost completely faded - a sort of yellowish shadow of what they had been. “How did my marks go over at school?” he mused with a smirk, tracing the rather obvious twin crescents. “Or did you cover them up? How many classmates know what a dirty girl you are?” The words triggered a new idea, cock twitching at the prospect of sending her off to her fancy school with a reminder of him that would be… much harder to ignore. Oh… oh they could have fun with this…

Keen to refresh his claim, he brought his mouth to that juncture of neck and shoulder again. His hand ran down her side, fingers teasing at the hem of her shirt before slipping beneath, tracing the waistband of her skirt back and forth, fingertips brushing bare skin. Instead of a quick sharp bite, he went slowly, kissing, then sucking, a soft bite growing firmer and firmer, increasing the pain gradually, listening for how she’d stumble over words, waiting for her to finally crack. Testing limits.

dead dove do not read {explicit}

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The devil’s fic hit a milestone

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Want me to gush about my OCs?

Send me a “🖊+an OC“ and I will talk about that OC! It can be a headcanon, a fun fact, a small paragraph of backstory- anything!

Alternatively, send in just a “🖊“ and I will talk about any one of my OCs at random!

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43, 69 pls XD

You didn’t give which OC you wanted details for, so here’s a bunch of them XD

43. What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

Lizzie: Dry, sarcastic and maybe a bit cynical

Lake: Childish (slapstick, dad jokes). She doesn’t get a lot of jokes, but will laugh if other people are laughing.

Sam: Lots of things. She’s got a dark sense of humor, but also loves wordplay. She’s been through too much to deny herself a bit of laughter at something stupid.

Nico: Too kindhearted to take joy in others’ pain, but she loves puns and some nerdy humor

Cain: He’s pretty picky about what makes him laugh, and it has to catch him at the right time. Some really dark stuff will get him, but other times he finds it in poor taste. High tier smart comedy will get him, though. Well-written bits with lots of callbacks earn his respect.

69. What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather?

Lizzie: Cool and breezy, but lots of sun. Late autumn - sweater weather.

Lake: Bright, sunny, hot enough to wear shorts and a tank top at all times.

Sam: Hoodie season, or cold clear summer nights - no clouds.

Nico: Spring spring spring – she’s Persephone, after all, it’s her season. Ideally a clear day in early spring with a true blue sky with perfect little white clouds, and crocuses coming up through the remains of snow, but no more gross slush on the streets.

Cain: That sort of diffuse light when it’s sunny but has such omnipresent cloud coverage that everything is just a white sky. Cold enough to nip at the nose and ears. Dry, not humid.

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♡ OC ask meme ♡

–answer these however you like! some parts have multiple questions, you don’t have to answer them all. you can answer for one OC or many, or askers can ask about a specific OC. approach them however you like. you can use these for character development exercises too. just have fun with it!–

#squad: who’s friends with who? what are the squad dynamics like?

microscope: zoom in – describe the little, insignificant details about an OC.

fragrance: what do your OCs smell like?

photo album: describe one of your OCs’ favorite memories.

mixtape: 5 songs that describe your OC(s) or songs they themselves would like.

wardrobe: what’s your OC(s) style like?

lightning: who’s the most impulsive character? and who is their impulse control?

ufo: identity! what are some key identifying qualities or traits of your OC(s)? how to they identify in regards to gender/sexuality?

love note: who likes who? crushes? relationships? are they mutual or unrequited?

poison: vices/bad habits? what are they? how do they affect your OC?

compass: who’s the moral compass? in general: what are your OCs’ morality like? do they have high morals, or not? are their morals self imposed, or do they base their morals on religion/family/influence of others?

track & field: which (if any) of your OCs are athletic? what sports to they play? which of your OCs would go HARD in P.E.?

parachute: who does your OC(s) trust the most? who makes them feel safe? who would they do absolutely anything for?

conspiracy theory: what are your OC’s beliefs? are they skeptics or do they believe easily? who acts on blind faith? who needs to see to believe?

zodiac: what’s their sign? does it influence their personality? do they care about astrology?

spellbook: are any of your OC(s) supernatural? if so, what are they/what are their abilities?

contact: how does your OC(s) feel about touch/physical contact? are they affectionate? if so, how do they display affection to others?

interiors: describe your OC(s) bedroom/home/or a place they consider “theirs”. what’s in it? do certain items have a special significance to your OC?

hobby: what do they love? what captivates them? what are their passions?

psyche: what’s their head space like? do they have any mental illnesses? how do they process difficult or emotional situations? what are their coping mechanisms?

chess board: who is the most logical? or the schemer/planner?

shooting star: if your OC(s) could have one wish what would it be?

wild card: talk about any OC! anything you want!

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OC Asks

 What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?

 What is the color of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin?

 How tall is your OC?

What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearances?

Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar?

How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like?

What does your OC’s bedroom look like?  His/her living area?

What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father?

How many siblings does your OC and what is his/her relationship with them?

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life?

What was your OC’s childhood like?

What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how as that impacted him/her?

What is your OC’s imagination like?

How many times did your OC move as a child?  Which area was his/her favorite?

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

What kind of mother/father would your OC be?

Who are your OC’s closest relatives?

Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)?

Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

If your OC has a soulmate, who is it?

Why does your OC and his/her soulmate work so well together?

What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate?

How did your OC and his/her soulmate meet?

What is your OC’s level of education?

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they?

What is your OC’s opinion of school?  What kind of student was s/he?

What subjects did your OC excel at?

What subjects interested your OC?

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession?

How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieved his/her current profession?

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession?

What is your OC’s biggest dream?

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

How does your OC handle anger?

How does your OC handle grief?

What is your OC’s greatest fear?

What makes your OC happy?

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

What are some things that greatly upset your OC?

What are some things that annoy your OC?

If your OC has them, what are some regrets s/he has?

How easily does your OC forgive?

What are some of your OC’s vices?

If your OC experienced trauma, what was it?

What secrets does your OC have?

What are some of your OC’s morals?

What are some of your OC’s motivations?

What is the health of your OC?

Does your OC think with his/her head or heart?

What are your OC’s thoughts on death?

What are some of your OC’s strengths?

What are some of your OC’s weaknesses?

How does your OC take criticism?

What does your OC think of him/herself?

If your OC could change one thing about him/herself, what would it be?

What is the general impression your OC gives other people?

How emotionally/mentally vulnerable is your OC with other people?

How does your OC display love?

What are some habits your OC has picked up?

What is your OC’s favorite drink?

What is your OC’s favorite food?

What is your OC’s favorite sweet?

What is your OC’s favorite season?

What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather?

What is your OC’s favorite book?

What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show?

What is your OC’s favorite kind music (and song if there is one)?

What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment?

What is your OC’s favorite color?

What is your OC’s favorite scent?

What is your OC’s favorite animal?

What is your OC’s favorite sound?

What is your OC’s favorite time of day?

What is your OC’s favorite kind of ice cream?

What is your OC’s favorite dinosaur?

Ask your own question.

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His tongue ran over teeth, like a predator licking its chops. Noises were very very good. He liked that.

Allowing her a bit more leeway, Jacob backed off just enough to let her stand. He waited til she’d stashed the last item in the fridge before making his move, pushing the door shut for her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her back against him in a firm grip and putting his mouth to her ear. “Where are you, princess? Give me a color.” It was growled order, more warning that demanding.

They’d talked safewords briefly. She was smart, she’d remember the color system. It was a standard green/yellow/red traffic light idea. Red means stop. Green means go. He suspected some of his ideas for this particular scenario may have been met with a red, or at the very least a yellow, but a bit of spanking seemed harmless enough. They could get into more advanced role play later. Just the idea of it made him grin. He watched her hands, too. Looking for a no there, in case she didn’t feel confident enough to say it out loud.

dead dove do not read {explicit}

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There was a wicked grin twisting his lips as she pressed against him, and Jacob couldn’t resist grinding against her for just a moment. His hands felt heavy with intention as he moved them over her body, gathering her skirt into a bunch at her waistband, holding on like a handle with one hand as he shifted one of his legs back… “Did I say to stop?”

He punctuated the question with a lightning-fast snap of a smack at her ass, almost immediately rubbing a soothing hand over the flushing skin. The noise was incredibly satisfying. As was the heat as blood rushed to turn her all pink. Chewing his lip hungrily, hazel eyes darted to check her reaction. She’d been the one to bring up impact, not him. Did she regret opening herself to the idea?

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His chin lifted almost smugly as she touched him, smirk more prominent, again humming in agreement.

“But you should wait a bit more, I need to mind my things first, sadly.”

A totally rational thought. One he’d already considered. Jacob’s eyes flicked aside, one last check on the bags. Meeting her gaze, with an all-too-innocent blink as his smirk widened, he brought his finger up, motioning her to turn around. “By all means, then.” It was practically a purr.

His eyes swept over her as she turned, making no secret of his appreciation. As expected, she finished with the refrigerated goods first (of course, the ever-practical Evie). She was leaned over, rearranging items into the crisper to make room for the jug of milk in her hand, when he slipped behind her.

Lining his hips up with hers, his hand started at the small of her back, splaying open as he ran his palm up her spine, only to curl fingers into the back of her shirt collar. A gentle tug swayed her backwards slightly, a pale imitation of the bumping and grinding he’d much prefer in the moment, and he released her again almost immediately, though his hand stayed pressed against her back, keeping her from rising, forcing her to stay in the rather suggestive position. His left hand, missing out on the fun, was soon sliding down the curve of her hip, her thigh, brushing fingers at the hem of her skirt.

He hesitated only a moment before sliding his hand onto skin, the fabric gathering above his wrist as his thumb rubbed small circles, dragging the hem higher with his movement until his fingers left her skin just to yank the fabric higher, pinning it under the hand on her back, to admire the all too erotic image of Evie’s panty-clad ass pressed against his crotch. She’d be able to feel him getting hard through his jeans, too. His grip at her back tightened even as his left hand returned to her hip, a feather-light touch against her skin. Waiting for an excuse.

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He frowned for a moment, a brief glimpse of clarity that maybe this wasn’t the best time to play, if she really was that tired. But… Something inside him was pouting and whining but I wanna. Her question opened the door for him, frown disappearing in favor of a small secretive smirk. “What do you think, princess?” It was him testing the waters. Putting out a trigger word, making it clear his intention to shift their conversation a different direction. If she made it clear that now wasn’t the time, then-- He let out a short breath. Then he’d leave. Go take care of it himself, let her do whatever it was she had to do.

But if not…

He placed himself on the opposite side of Evie than the groceries, eyes flickering over her with a barely hidden hunger. He could stop himself. He could. But how much fun would that be?

dead dove do not read {explicit}

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His eyes may have been glazed, pupils blown out, breathing heavy as he reimagined every move she made. Still, her words broke the spell -- a bit. Blinking, he lowered his hands carefully to the table again, humming an affirmation. His imagination still ran wild. Fingers itched to get his hands on her. Instead, he tapped the table, giving away a bit of his impatience, watching her go about her chore. Eyes lingered on the fridge. Once she was done with that nothing else really needed to be stored right away. Once that was done, he could distract her as much as he wanted.

Standing, Jacob took a few steps to where she’d set the bags, glancing into them, calculating. “You’re a bit later than expected…” It was like he felt a magnetic pull to her, drawing him in, making his skin hum as he kept just far enough away.

dead dove do not read {explicit}

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----------

They didn’t get as much alone time as he wanted, even with Ethan out of the way. There were other things going on - and Jacob had actual paying jobs to do.

And… okay so maybe Friday afternoon he’d slightly fallen to temptation, and played a little game of try-not-to-get-caught with Alice while he was supposed to be recaulking her mother’s guest bathroom, but that had ended unsatisfied on his end and he’d arrived home all riled up and itching to take it out on a willing victim only to find Evie gone, fulfilling the list of chores their father had left in his stead. A quick shower and he’d checked his watch. Devil’s Night festivities started some time after 8. It was quarter to 7.

It wasn’t like he’d be able to… exorcise his frustrations while out with friends, but Aggie wouldn’t pick them up for another hour at least, so perhaps they could have just a little play time. If Evie ever got home.

The longer he waited without hearing her arrival, the more he regretted not just getting off in the shower. Self-denial was a habit with mixed benefits. Finally, he stopped even pretending not to be waiting for her, heading downstairs to take a seat with the front door in view, crossing his hands under his chin as he stared, waiting. He let his mind wander, considering all the scenarios that would never happen. Let each one play out like a movie in his head, perfectly happy to torture himself with it. And it was a kind of torture, that was for sure. His head couldn’t get out of the gutter, but it was a sort of constant need that was somehow enjoyable. And it would be even better once he passed it on to Evie - shared this particular brand of frustration.

So this was sadomasochism. Suffering, making her suffer; all of it an intoxicating draw. He knew his own interest in the more active kind of suffering -- his response to her poking at bruises wasn’t a one-off -- but this more passive sort of denial was quickly becoming a favorite as well. One he intended to share.

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“Why, do you have plans with me that night?”

Hazel eyes instantly darted back toward their father, but the older man remained uninterested. When Jacob spoke it was very quiet, almost a singsong tone, still watching for signs their game would be caught. “...Maaaybe.” In tiny barely noticeable movements, he slipped a toe under the hem of her skirt, inching the fabric up her thigh just a bit. One of the few things he’d thank god for was a good Catholic school uniform. Before it could get too obvious, he stopped.

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to, er… hang out. With my friends. And me, obviously,” he added with an attempt at casual nonchalance. Once he realized he’d started tapping his toe against her he quickly halted the motion. It wasn’t exactly nerves as much as his natural tendency towards entropy. Sitting still had to be the conscious choice.

dead dove do not read {explicit}