#Captured Ambience

[zooperdoopers]

She had left Harrowhark a note on her vastly underused pillow — “WHATS WITH THE SKULLS?” — and received only a terse “Ambiance.”

[disastercit]

⚠️ CW: Drugs, Weed

.

.

by popular demand (two people reacted positively, none reacted negatively) i am posting the plushvid weed picture

two takes because I couldn't decide between them

[caimdrakengard]

never knew he did this, though makes sense with all the stunts he pulls lol 

[naradreamscape]

I saw some moron zionist try to "debunk" a GFM post by pointing out a boom mic in the corner of a photo. Not only was it just the edge of a hole in a wall, but why the hell would a boom mic be out for a still photograph. I grew up around professional filmmaking, don't fuck with me

[carbkaiju]

I wanna say it The music in DD2 is such a downgrade :\

And the game has the same composer as the first. so what happened? The music all has the same melody and sounds like it's being piped in from another room underground. The equalizing is very muted, I strongly guess the reason is to make the music more streamer friendly so it's easier for people to talk over the game.

The music from the Warrens AND the Cove still shake my damn heart, it's incredible stuff! Each zone in DD1 has a unique melody and instrumentation, it goes above and beyond to build atmosphere.

I was disappointed to find the last confession boss has the same music as fighting The Heart. Really. I wanted to feel the horror of fighting this monstrosity - instead I was given trodden ground.

[breakfastteatime]

Vibes vibes vibes

[transgenderfivepebbles]

thank you for your sixgrainsofgravelposting i made a post abt them and clicked the tag out of curiosity (if anyone else had tagged posts with their whole name) and im glad someone else noticed that theyre just… wrong. and/or lying. echo appreciation gang

a fellow echo appreciator!! user of good taste, i see… may i direct you to pictures of the past, my in-progress mostly-headcanon series of short stories each centering one echo? it's halfway done at the moment, though with downpour i may have chapter 2s and/or bonus stories in the works :)

[prokopetz]

I don't think any video game I've ever played that tries to deliberately play up the "liminal spaces" angle has ever achieved even a quarter the liminality captured by sheer accident in the act of backtracking in a certain brand of late 1990s to early 2000s console RPGs.

You know the ones – from that era where the idea of linear, event-driven stories had just caught on, but the practice of putting the world map itself on rails wasn't yet de rigeur, so you could in theory revisit anyplace you'd ever been, including the areas that literally only existed for the purpose of one specific setpiece.

When you returned to such an area, all of the monsters and NPCs would be gone, and there'd be no music or audio ambience because no non-event-related soundtrack for that area had ever been written, which made the game's regular sound effects seem conspicuously louder. Just wandering around in this empty, silent backdrop; maybe you'd run into an NPC the devs forgot to dummy out who still acts like the event is ongoing, repeating now-contextless lines of dialogue and gesturing frantically at thin air. Maybe you'd stumble upon a treasure chest you missed the first time around, and the "item get" jingle would crack like a gunshot. Maybe there'd even be a room where the devs neglected to unset the event flag, and you'd suddenly be assailed by pulse-pounding techno heralding the approach of nothing at all.

Like, forget the Backrooms – give me a game that plays with that.

[villainbait]

Breaking Point

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: Explicit | 18+ Tags: angry sylus, playful struggling, teasing, dirty talk, smut, fingering, mc/reader is a brat, punishment, overstimulation if you squint Summary: You had almost cost Sylus something important tonight and for once, he's pissed. Word Count: 1.3k

The door to Onychinus’s base had barely clicked shut behind you before Sylus has you hoisted over his shoulder, his long strides taking you swiftly down the hallway towards his bedroom. Your heart flip flops uneasily in your stomach when you realize where he’s headed, and you start to struggle in earnest. His demeanor had completely changed the moment you arrived home, though the walk there had been more tense than usual.

“Wha- hey! Sylus, put me down!” You’re suddenly squirming in his grip, your fists drumming uselessly against his back and you lose a heel in the process; the forgotten ornament left behind on the floor. You only stop fighting when his hand slides under the slit in your dress to keep you from falling, and you forget how to breathe as you feel the heat of it between your thighs. Infuriatingly, Sylus hasn’t said a single word and it starts to sink in that you might have gone too far earlier tonight. 

It had started out as a simple game under the table at some business dinner he had made you go to. You were bored and he looked so good sitting across from you, but he wasn’t giving you any attention at all. Instead, he was talking to some other woman who kept touching him with increasingly lingering touches that made you reconsider what the definition of assault was. Worse, Sylus seemed to preen under her attention, his honeyed smile blinding in the soft ambience of the room. Jealousy had begun to eat at you and you were half-convinced he was doing it on purpose, but then you had the perfect idea of how to get back at him. 

It was time for you to play a little game of your own, kicking off your heel discreetly under the table and running your stocking covered foot underneath the tailored leg of his pants. He managed to keep his composure, his slight flinch of surprise only noticeable to you. When he turned to look at you you were already engaged in conversation with one of your own dinner mates, pretending to be oblivious. His eyes narrowed as your foot slid higher with every pass, coming dangerously close to a part of him that was quickly becoming uncooperative despite the ugly hag he was attempting to extract intel from. 

You had almost ruined it all and for once, Sylus was angry. 

He dumps you unceremoniously onto the bed and you try to scramble away but he’s on you faster than you can move. He captures and stretches your wrists over your head easily with one hand, his knee sliding between your thighs as he pushes you into the soft mattress. He slides between your thighs and his hips press against yours, trapping you. The warmth of his anger is radiating off him and you can feel how hot and hard he is despite how angry he looks. Had your antics earlier really affected him that much? 

You whine and futilely struggle against him until he looms over you and quells your struggles with a piercing gaze.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” His voice was low and dangerous, making you tense with anticipated dread. Oh, Sylus was furious. Still, you’d gone this far, you weren’t going to back down now. 

“Only that I didn’t finish the job.” You jut your lower lip out petulantly and his scoff is pure exasperation.

“Fiesty, kitten.” He almost smiles, but then he’s serious again.

“Did you really think I would enjoy the attention of that woman with you sitting across from me?” You refused to look at him and stared at the canopy above his bed, but nodded. “Really?” He murmured, a soft hint of incredulity creeping into his voice. The movement of him sliding against your core left you both gasping as the friction made you dizzy with need. 

“You’re the only one who does this to me.” He leans closer and draws your gaze to his, his lips inches from yours. “Only you.” 

He doesn’t kiss you. You haven’t earned that and Sylus won’t reward you for your bad behavior, so his lips skate along your jaw and down your throat, sending a shiver down your spine. Sylus will have you a begging, needy mess by the end of the night and you know it, suddenly a little nervous. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out quietly, but his derisive chuckle against your pulse told you it was too late for an apology–or too soon. His words confirmed it, his hot breath fanning across your skin. 

“Try being more sincere, and I might consider forgiving you sweetie.” The pet name drips condescension and you want to smack him, instantly regretting your words. You feel the punishing set of teeth against your throat with a sharp suddenness that leaves you gasping. Your back arches into him as your hands curl around the one that has you pinned, your nails digging into his skin. His mouth felt so good against your frantic pulse and you felt a little dizzy as he soothes the fresh imprint of his teeth with his lips. He peppers your throat in kisses and deliciously teasing love bites, taking his time until you’re writhing underneath him and softly pleading for him to touch you more.

He loves seeing you like this, flushed and wanting, eager for him to do whatever he wants to you. He’s ready to explode from all of the teasing from earlier and he grinds his hips roughly against yours, chuckling softly against your collarbone when you curse him between your gasps of pleasure. It’s been a long time since he's had you underneath him like this and Sylus isn’t known for being patient. But for you? He’d wait for a lifetime. In some lifetimes, he had.

However, tonight you need to be taught a lesson about what happens when you tease him too much and jeopardize his meeting. He almost lost valuable intel tonight, something important enough that if he had fumbled in obtaining it, a lot of people could’ve died; including you.  

His free hand slides between your bodies and he’s satisfied to find the front of your panties soaked. His fingers toy with the lacy edge and he has a thoughtful look on his face.

“Sylus, please.” You whine, brushing yourself against his knuckles shamelessly. It makes Sylus chuckle and he pushes them aside, his fingers gliding over your slick folds. One digit dips between them to glide over your clit and it’s agony. Before you can beg, Sylus slides two fingers deep inside of you and curls them over that sensitive spot he knows so well. He brings you to orgasm with a quickness that has your back bowed off the bed, his skillful fingers wringing the pleasure from your body. He does it again without letting you recover and you weakly ask him to wait, pushing against his hand that trapped your own. 

“Wait, please–” 

He withdraws his fingers and they glisten with proof of how much Sylus affected you, strands of your arousal clinging obscenely to them. His eyes never leave yours as he slides them into his mouth to taste you, his gaze heavy lidded with desire. He pulls them past his lips with a wet pop and his lips brush your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin.

“Why? They went in so easily, kitten.” He purred into your ear. “Did you want it that much? I would’ve given it to you, you know.” He pushes a few strands of hair out sticking to your face and strokes soft fingertips along your temple and jaw. “All you had to do was ask, but you continue to insist on being stubborn.” He leans back and his lips twist into a sour expression. You know you’re in trouble and you want to take it back, but you also know conceding now will make the consequences worse. Sylus would prey on any weakness you showed now, and you could see it in the way he stared down at you. His smirk was dangerous and you whimpered.

“We’ll see how long that lasts.” 

[cosycafune]

ENGRAVED VIRGIN!

usually, king sukuna treats you with dearest respect, but after you plotted against him, a barely restrained thread of his snaps. who are you to recklessly defy him, especially after he’s given you everything? therefore, he has to teach your virgin self a lesson.

synopsis of acts: breasts slapping, wounding, creampie, virginity loss, degrading, size different, sadism, clit slapping, humiliation, getting caught, breeding kink, threats of pregnancy, mouth being stuffed with panties, light bondage, crying, sensitivity, rough sex, bleeding after sex, and angst. not proofread.

— ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 —

“Repeat what you said, brat,” Lord Sukuna orders with an impenetrable amount of revulsion.

“‘K-Kuna! I didn’t mean it—”

Smack.

Incapable of stopping your lulling head, tears brim within your glassy eyes at Sukuna spanking your tingly breasts. Even while the thickness of his angry cock kisses your clit, Lord Sukuna casts his insatiable crimson eyes upon your weeping frame.

If you had sealed your lips, while he planned the death of a so-called traitor, you wouldn’t have discovered yourself so degraded. Degraded, tied, loosely gagged with your balled up underwear, littered with scratch marks and welled up pain within your aching limbs.

Everything within you was terrified, unsure of whether you were going to be able to handle Sukuna’s fullness. After all, you had never bedded a man before — simply remaining oblivious until Lord Sukuna captured you within this given moment.

“You brought this on yourself, you ungrateful girl,” Sukuna lowly spits out, applying an ample slap upon your cunt. Your cunt before your nimble body recoils, your eyes jittering whilst your throbbing worsens.

“N-No!” Whining with insubordination, you carefully writhe around — attempting to push your supple thighs together.

“You’d think I’d let you and your pure self go? I want to ruin you,” Enthralled, Sukuna’s cunning eyes twist with his impatient, reckless and womanising preaching.

“Y-You’ll break me, Ryo,” Muttering for dear life, you observe Lord Sukuna’s lustful yet pensive gaze.

“You’re not a mere weakling, my cock will not break you,” Cockily, Sukuna informs you.

Gasping, your body’s decency collapses the moment Sukuna’s swiftly pushes his needy cock tip against your barely visible cunt. The unfathomable tension completely ripped at your resolve, especially as just Sukuna’s tip left you feeling incredibly nauseous — plunged with the unfamiliar sensation.

Sukuna’s bound to mark you, reform you and restructure you. You knew this the moment you were swayed into serving beneath him, by another legendary jujutsu sorcerer — and you reluctantly agreed. Inevitably, drawn by complex fate, you ponder on the concept of being sexually dominated by a man who’s defined as a murderer.

“I-It hurts!” Wailing, your breaths shorten as Lord Sukuna burrows himself painfully further within you. Within you as your eyes swell with tears, your soppy cunt incapable of handling his log of a cock.

His cock is monstrous, inhumane and far from tedious.

“You’ll take it!” Lord Sukuna’s sharp fingers burrow within your nimble thighs, subconsciously drawing blood as you writhe around, “How dare you be ungrateful, after everything I did for you.”

“Ryo—”

“This is the least you could do for me, letting me engrave you,” Sukuna unleashes his cunning proposal, his sculpted hips forcing more of his monstrous cock in your overwhelmed cunt.

“N-Never had cock before, Ryo,” Sobbing, completely light-headed and vaginally moulded, your pleading eyes greet the stoic dominance within his reigning own.

“You have now, so you can learn to handle the pain,” In disbelief, your lips widen as your moan of aching rips through the distorted ambience.

“H-How can you be so heartless?” Hiccuping with worded grief, subtle softness overtakes Lord Sukuna — pushing him into pinning a squirming you down.

“Did you not tell my maid that you wanted to leave?” Sukuna questions with ample grunts, experimentally bucking his carved hips within you.

Pulverised, you’re left breathless — your lung capacity dimmed at Sukuna’s extreme deepness within you. Everything within you feared this extent of his consensual cruelty, particularly with his threatening stomach bulge fitted so closely besides your ready-to-be-breed womb.

“Because you’re cruel!” Loathing Lord Sukuna’s lack of empathy and selflessness, you spew your words as Sukuna gifts you a gentle kiss.

Your first kiss, and a kiss that contrasts his harsh demeanour and being.

“You knew that, but you still stayed,” Attentive, Sukuna counters your point. Counters your point while he silently questions if you’re ready to move, only to take notice of your obsolete yes.

“Look at you now—” Cock-stuffed, your mind blanks the moment Sukuna performs his inhuman thrusts. Thrusts that kiss upon your brutalised walls, leaving you to choke out moans with a cursing Lord Sukuna.

“H-Hurts s-so good! Ah! Yes!” Reciting mewls of incomprehensible pleasure, your eyes roll back harder at Sukuna smacking his hips against the base of your overwhelmed cunt.

“If I ruin you like this, you’re going to always come back to me,” Sukuna hums through his lewd whimpers and groans, yearning for you to hear his passively whimper.

“It isn’t care if you want to ruin me for you,” Yelling in pain, you struggle to breathe with Sukuna further burrowing the pattern of his nails into your roughened up hips.

“I’ll impregnate you, just so your ex-virgin self can have something more worthy than your stupid escape plan,” Sukuna plants himself into exclaiming, roughly slapping your clammed nipple — in hopes of crushing your inexperienced self.

“You’re not making it out of these bondage ropes,” Angrily speaking, Sukuna shoves your underwear further into your mouth — gleefully slapping your ample, jiggly boobs.

“Mhm! Ah!” Moaning against your will, exhaustion tints you as Lord Sukuna wraps his hands around your throat — pounding into your adjusting cunt with an inhumane nature.

“I don’t care if you’re a good jujutsu sorcerer, you’re never leaving this place,” Harshening his thrusts, Sukuna maniacally glances down at your disheartened eyes.

“Whatever I want, I get it,” Sukuna motions to you, glancing down at your soppy cunt creaming against his thick cock.

Just the way the fatness of it made you look puny imposed happiness over him. In this moment, he rules you with his massive cock — it’s largeness barely contained in your cunt. But even so, Sukuna looking down at your cunt, watching you take him in so good made him know that you’re engraved by him.

“Dwfm!” Unplugging your succulent lips, Sukuna grants you the will to speak, “D-Did I just—”

“You came even though you know you can’t do anything before me, therefore I have to cum in you and teach you a lesson,” Sukuna grunts out with an animalistic nature, pounding into you as if his reign upon his kingdom is reliant on your warm, pulsating cunt being submissive by letting him fill your womb with his royal seed.

“S-So fast!” At your scarcely phrased pleasure and cries of virgin discomfort, your fingers itch for Sukuna to at least come to a somewhat stop. However, your gentle fingers are weakened by his extremely powerful thrusts that consistently form a dangerous bulge in your toned stomach.

“You won’t be a soldier anymore, I’ll use you till the point I get you so pregnant and swole, you’ll be too busy caring for our young kin to ever leave.” Warm and conflicted at Sukuna’s truthful plan, you feel him eradicate your cunt and structure it so it obeyed him in the way your mouth wouldn’t.

“S-So…selfish!” Turned on by your tears of sadness, betrayal, Sukuna’s sadistic persona displays itself. Sukuna continues to demolish your Mac and cheese imitating cunt, listening to the extremely loud squelching that your male colleagues could hear.

“All your stupid colleagues are out there, listening to their grand knight getting fucked by the merciless king that they all complain about!” Sukuna chuckles at embarrassment consumes a breathless, squelching and a freely mewling you.

“This pussy’s to die for!” Bellowing, Sukuna heightens your mortification. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning and grunting with unrelenting noise, with you, Sukuna slams thick cock against your cunt, his pace so superhuman pieces of the bed begin to cave in.

“Yes! Yes! Ah! Mhm! Hot!” Pleading through mindless moans, your breathing and lightheadedness exceed you with Sukuna thrusting to the point his thick, heavy balls beat against the bottom of your soppy cunt.

“I’m going to cum all inside of you and call the grand knights in here to see how you’re engraved,” Sukuna excitingly says, pressing on your neck while he burrows his deepest — a faint, dirty moan flees your parted lips.

“Ryo’, mhm! Ahhh!” Clouded, your bratty voice completely floods the room — contorting the duality of your usual self.

“I’m going to mould you into what I want,” Pussy-whipped, Sukuna’s groggy statement is contrasted by his energetic cock straining before filling your unused womb with the thick portion of his cum.

The king’s load.

“N-No,” Unwilling to serve as nothing but Sukuna’s cock reliever, you gasp with him pulling out of you. Pulling out of you before an accidental load of his lands upon your rising abdomen, in between your perky breasts and face.

“Defiled, you’re better,” Sukuna speaks in a stern voice, using a small fraction of his cursed technique to open the door — revealing a singular knight of your own.

“N-No way!” The knight mutters and faints, leaving you to shift your head to the side with the embarrassment Lord Sukuna’s putting you through.

You were known as a virgin, so being taken by someone so evil struck something within them.

“You’re bleeding, but it’s better that I got to you first instead of another man,” Sukuna retorts, basking in the chaos of you hyperventilating at the blood that entwines with his cum trickling out of your cunt.

“I’m sore, and it hurts,” Unable to move, feeling your lower region throbbing and weirdly swollen, Sukuna’s eyes simply darken at the whiny innocence of you.

“That’s your punishment, so say fairwell to your grand knight position soon,” Degrading you, Sukuna chuckles — gleeful with the intimate art he had structured.

“I’ll end everything before I have your child out of spite, Ryomen Sukuna,” Spitting it out, you roll your eyes at the lack of empathy he holds towards you once being a virgin at just nineteen.

More by more, Lord Sukuna knew he was going to break you and engrave you with nothing more than him and his cum.

Engraved.

do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platform. everything here is written by me, so all rights are reserved. cosycafune, 2024.

[auggieblogs]

"Dude, I have a boyfriend"

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Author's note: Hi, hi, turns out I actually enjoy writing and I am also half decent at it? So, hopefully, I'll be writing more in the future:))

P.S.- This one shot is inspired by a very cute TikTok I saw recently (this morning). AND I AM SO DOWN BAD FOR MAX, LORD HELP ME!

Max Verstappen had been immersed in his world of sim racing for hours. He'd been practising tirelessly, determined to stay at the top of his game even when he wasn't out on the real racetrack. Meanwhile, his girlfriend, Y/N, had been in their cosy bedroom, strumming her guitar softly and humming along to the music she was creating. The soft, warm glow of fairy lights hung above their bed and bathed the room in a comforting ambience. It was one of those peaceful moments they cherished, each lost in their own world yet connected by the simple fact that they were together. But now, finally, he was done. He pushed away from his simulator, feeling the relief of stretching his legs after sitting for so long.

He walked into their bedroom, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watched her fingers glide across the strings, of her vintage guitar, creating a beautiful melody that filled the room. He approached her with the intention of showering her with kisses, but as he leaned in, Y/N playfully turned her head, avoiding his advances.

"Dude, I have a boyfriend," she said with a mock-serious expression.

Max froze for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. Had he missed something? Then realization dawned, and he burst into laughter. "Wait, what?" he chuckled. "You're dating someone? Tell me more about this mysterious boyfriend of yours."

Y/N giggled, setting her guitar aside and giving Max a teasing look. "Well, he's a pretty awesome guy. He's got this incredible talent for racing, and he's cute, too."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Cute, huh? Sounds like someone I should meet."

Y/N leaned closer, closing the distance between them. "Oh, you've met him plenty of times, Max Verstappen."

Max's playful grin returned as he wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. "Well then, I think it's time for me to have a little talk with this boyfriend of yours."

Y/N laughed as Max leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony. When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other.

"You know," Max said with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm going to fight that boyfriend of yours for stealing my girl."

Y/N's eyes softened as she cupped Max's cheek. "I love you, Max."

Max's heart swelled with love, and he pressed another gentle kiss to her lips. "I love you too, Y/N."

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏. NEUVILLETTE ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 0.9k ノ gn reader — fluffy hurt to comfort. insecure neuvi. subtle hugs and kisses. comforting him after the rain. slightly rewritten old fic <3

The world outside, glistening from the dew on the ground, seems to mirror the turmoil within the Chief Justice of Fontaine, now curled on the sofa right next to you, his silhouette not as powerful and admirable as usual. His eyes — sharp and perceptive in the courtroom — are now veiled by a shroud of doubt. Their typical iridescence now dull, forgotten pearls in the cracks of the rocky shore, roughened by sand and salty waves, depleted of its shine.

He finds himself troubled by the complexities of his own heart and the dimmed shades of morality.

The weight of expectations, the ones he dispensed with an unyielding hand, has taken its toll. As you observe him in this hushed ambience, it’s as if you’ve been granted access to a hidden chapter of his life, a glimpse behind the curtain of his public persona.

The low sun of the afternoon paints rainbows in the myriad little raindrops that cling to the windowpane like scattered jewels; each droplet captures a fragment of light, forming a dazzling mosaic of colours, their wet traces meandering down the glass surface. The sky is slowly turning orange and pink, gaining its healthy blush after the downpour, the dark clouds lazily gliding away beyond the horizon. The bloom reflects in Neuvillette’s amethyst eyes, a sight so breathtakingly beautiful and hurtful you can’t pull your gaze away.

He was crying. Again.

You caress his cheek gently, fingers seeking to soothe the damp imprints left by his tears. It’s a delicate touch, a gesture of empathy in front of his unspoken pain.

“You’re more than enough, Neuvillette.” You whisper softly.

He shudders, his breath uneven, and you take a closer look at his eyes — the pearlescent blue in them so mesmerising, still gorgeous despite the saddened gaze.

Neuvillette glances back at you, his expression softening for a little while, but as quickly as it appeared, the tenderness retreats, once again veiled by the weight of sorrow that grips his heart.

“I don’t deserve any of the respect the whole Fontaine is offering me…” His voice is barely above a whisper, still interrupted with muted sobs. “Perhaps I truly don’t understand them.”

“Don’t say that, Neuvillette.” Your voice is almost pleading as you look at him, trying to convey as much care as you can give to him to get the message through without hurting him when he’s so vulnerable right before you.

“I don’t feel anything. I’m just…” he trails off, looking away, as if ashamed to finish the sentence.

You brush your thumb over his cheek, wiping his dried tears away, and his eyes flutter shut under the long lashes; he finally allows himself to enjoy the feeling of your gentle touch, soothing his soul slowly with each passing moment.

It’s almost heartbreaking to see him like this. He carries himself in public with such strict elegance that it wouldn’t sound too far-fetched to assume some might see it as arrogance, yet it was nothing but a shield to hide his doubts and inner loneliness.

The confidence was not false per se, but similar to those ornated masks worn at the annual masquerade ball. You know it must have been very difficult to confess.

“Think how many people are grateful for what you’ve been doing to Fontaine for all these years.” You lean in and plant a soft kiss on his temple, his body relaxing against yours, curling closer into a hug; despite his height and broad shoulders, he feels right now like a lost little creature searching for a safe place to rest and to feel loved, and you wish you could protect him forever. “You keep their lives forever just and safe, because they know they can always turn to you and find the truth.”

He sighs heavily into the crook of your neck, warm breath against your skin, trying his best to calm down. You keep petting his hair gently, fingers intertwined with silver locks affectionately.

“Please never leave my side,” he murmurs against your neck, and it feels like the most intimate moment, just you and him, and the only thing you can do is press another gentle kiss on the top of his head.

“I won’t. Ever.” You say, and there is nothing more important to him than your promise, his heart melting warmly in his chest.

You both cuddle on the velvet cushions of the sofa, the setting sun casting long, warm shadows across the spacious room. The air still smells of the freshly brewed tea and the passing rain, the sound of distant birds singing returning after the weather.

Neuvillette seems calmer now, relaxed in your arms. He is vulnerable during such moments, his eyes looking deep into your soul, bright irises absorbing every little detail of your features so he can hold your face in his memory. His hand finds yours, and you hold it tight, caressing the skin of his palm.

It feels nice to have this closeness, to be able to experience his loving gaze upon you without feeling uneasy or too self-conscious.

Your fingertips brush along the shape of his knuckles, tracing the hem of his sleeves, slightly crumpled after a weary day of work. He closes his eyes, relishing the touch of your hand, those little sensations like gentle breezes of tenderness slowly dissipating the doubts that were troubling his mind.

You watch him as his gaze shifts towards the window, taking in the beautiful colours of the evening. His expression is soft, a hint of a melancholic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He then snuggles closer to you once again and whispers into your ear the barely audible words full of devotion.

“I love you.”

A ribbon of trust spoken in the silk of his voice.

“And I love you, too.”

[bell4donn4]

Loser!luke agenda

You guys got me. Loser!luke ahead 😔

TW: Mention of alcohol, smoke, sex or implied sex, use of the word “teenager” to describe overaged characters, Luke and reader are both 18+, not completely canon but whatever

.

Loser!luke who never touched a woman his entire life.

the childish ambience of camp never really left much space for normal teenagers activities, such as getting drunk and having sex- but he was almost 19 and had no experience whatsoever.

The best he got was his own fist, which was never put to use much anyways because of how busy he was.

So once you arrived at camp- all promiscuous and much more experienced in real life that he ever will be- he was completely captured by you.

You were new to the life in camp halfblood, and have lived through your teenagerhood without a single thought of playing around with swords all day.

You didnt even like to be there, and often caught breaking the rules; maybe smoking on the creek or getting drunk with the satyrs.

Luke was taken aback by your rebellious spirit, it was news to him, and it got him curious.

Whenever he needed to help you out with stuff, he would stumble on his own feet, or get incredibly red after a look you spared him.

It was ridiculous, really. He himself felt ashamed of how much you affected him, yet, he couldn’t help it.

You, on the other hand, immediately took notice of his body language, and often used it against him.

The life pace at camp was boring, and getting Luke flustered was the most entertaining activity in your opinion.

Such an innocent boy he was, I didn’t take lot to realize he was a virgin, and maybe didn’t even give his first kiss yet.

That was an exaggeration, obviously, but who knew.

You liked the idea of corrupting him. Of showing him what being a teen was actually like.

So you slowly started to make him try different kind of stuffs. Starting from a simple puff of a cigarette, to getting drunk and skinny dipping in the lake.

He could never say no to you anyways. Not when breaking the rules (something he wasn’t used to do at all) felt so good.

The perfect head counsoler- who everybody looked up to as an example- running around after curfew go get a taste of a cheap vodka you got from the Dionysus’s kids.

Obviously, all of this had to lead to more at one point.

Specifically, it led to you lying in your bed, looking at the ceiling in silence. Silence which you broke.

<<have you ever touched a woman, lukie?>> you asked, voice hoarse from the drinking.

His cheeks flushing red.

<<no>> he whispered back.

<<would you like to?>>

<<y-yeah>>

That night, you let him touch your titts, and clothed pussy. Then, it quickly escalated into a drunken handjob- the first (and best) he ever got.

[little-diable]

Let me take care of you - Kylo Ren (smut)

A small drabble written for @the-tales-of-ren - I hope you enjoy this lovie! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Kylo is scared to touch reader after her surgery, yet she won't let go of him, begging to feel him close

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), just soft pwp

Pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader (1.1k words)

The soft glow of ambient lighting cast a warm and gentle ambience in Kylo and (y/n)'s shared chambers. In the aftermath of her surgery, the room seemed to cocoon them in a haven of tranquillity. The grandeur of dark, obsidian walls was softened by delicate tapestries that hung like echoes of a distant past, and the air was thick with a serene calm.

Kylo found himself entrapped in the fragility of the moment. (Y/n) lay on the dark, expensive bedding, the sterile scent of the medical bay replaced by the subtle fragrance of flowers that Kylo had brought to bring life into the room. Each delicate petal seemed to capture the soft glow of the room, a reflection of Kylo's attempt to infuse a touch of solace into the shadows that lingered.

He was a stranger to the emotions flushing through him, all too used to pushing away the smallest ounces of fear, of worries, but ever since she had been forced to part for him, just for a few hours, he had been held hostage by this deadly mixture of emotions.  He watched her, his intense gaze softened by an unfamiliar vulnerability. The stark contrast of his dark attire against the tender atmosphere only emphasized the transformation he underwent in the confines of their shared space.

"How are you feeling, love?” His whispers left (y/n) smiling, reaching her hand out to pull Kylo closer, though miserably failing. Ever since she had returned from the medical bay he had kept his distance, close enough to tend to her every need, yet far away to not hurt her. 

“Kylo,” she sighed his name, fingers not daring to let go of his big ones. “Stop acting as if I’m some fragile thing you could hurt. I want you to hold me, please.” 

Kylo sat down on the bed, next to her, his gaze never leaving her face. In the silence that enveloped them, he reached out to cup her cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle. His eyes, pools of intensity, softened into a rare display of tenderness.

"I've never allowed myself to care for someone as deeply as I care for you," he admitted his voice a low rumble that resonated with sincerity. "Your well-being will always be my priority, and I don’t ever want to be the reason for your pain."

(Y/n) felt her heart swelling at his words, struggling to sit up, yet determined to do so. He watched her with dark eyes, lips marked by the cuts his teeth had left, a nervous trait he’d never be able to shake. A soft kiss was pressed to his lips, momentarily making Kylo forget his every worry, pulled closer into her trap with just a simple touch.

But the kiss was anything but simple, it oozed with tension so strong, Kylo feared he’d snap any moment, once again claiming the one he hadn’t touched in days. (Y/n)’s moans seemed to tell him everything he needed to know, unable to hold onto his determination, watching it pour down the drain of neverending emotions. 

Carefully Kylo pressed her back down onto the mattress, lips kissing their way down to her breasts. His eyes found the scar on her chest, eyebrows furrowed as he momentarily gave into his wandering thoughts, thoughts (y/n) managed to pull him out of with a soft, impatient moan of his name. 

“I can’t have you, at least not now. But I’ll take care of you, my pretty pet.” (Y/n)’s chest rose and fell all too quickly, not caring about the slight uncomfortableness her scars made her feel, not fully healed just yet. All she could focus on was the feeling of Kylo pushing the big shirt of his she wore up to her hips, pulling her panties down her legs within seconds. 

She barely got any time to breathe, eyes fluttering close the second his warm mouth came in touch with her needy cunt, licking her arousal-covered folds. (Y/n)’s moans reverberated through the bedroom, silently thanking whoever had designed their room for the soundproof walls, allowing them to be as loud as they wanted to. 

“Oh, stars, right there.” Her words left Kylo smirking against her folds, sucking on her pulsing bundle of nerves as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against the spot that always left her gasping. Kylo could only hum against her skin, high on the taste of her, the sweetest taste he’d never forget about, longing for it whenever they parted for more than a few hours. She was his everything, the one he needed with every rise of a new day, the one he’d turn to when the walls began to close in on him. She was his all, his eternity. 

Kylo ate her out with a certain kind of pleasure, finding enjoyment in her mewls, her gasps, and her moans, the sounds sending sparks straight down his spine and right to his aching cock. He’d have to take care of his desperation later on, not daring to fuck her while she was still healing, very well knowing that he’d be unable to control himself the second her walls flutter around him. 

With his eyes set on her pleasure-drunken features, Kylo watched her creep closer and closer to her release. He was determined, and wanted to see and hear her fall apart, all because of him. His thumb found her pulsing bundle, momentarily pulling his mouth away to inhale a few deep breaths. 

“I’m so close, fuck, Ky’, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.” His fingers fucked her ruthlessly, fast enough to push her close to the brink of passing out, though not wanting to slip from his grasp just yet. Kylo added more speed to his movements, pushing down harder on her clit to give her the last needed push, coaxing a high-pitched moan from her.

His fingers kept fucking her through her high, sending her a sweet smile as (y/n) slowly opened her eyes. Only as he felt her relax did Kylo dare to pull away, moving up her body to press a slow, loving kiss to her warm lips.

“I can’t wait for you to be off bedrest, I don’t know how much longer I can go without stuffing you full with my cock.” 

[pmamtraveller]

GABRIEL DE COOL - THE MUSE, 1895

The artwork typically symbolizes the classic representation of a muse, the source of inspiration and creativity, commonly portrayed as a perfect female form. This is consistent with the wider artistic tradition in which muses represent artistic inspiration in general rather than a particular person.

The soft pastel colours in the palette give off a dream-like ambience. The backdrop has muted colours that amplify the subjects without diverting attention. The utilization of light and shadow emphasizes the outline of the figures and adds a tranquil feeling. In general, the painting represents an idealized view of femininity, capturing the essence of inspiration and artistic muse through its harmonious composition and delicate rendering.

In contrast to Cool's contemporaries like Gustave Courbet, who emphasized realism in their depictions of social issues without any embellishments, de Cool's art tends to lean towards the ethereal. On the other hand, artists like Eugène Delacroix favoured emotional expression and dramatic themes, but de Cool preferred a tranquil and classical elegant depiction, reflecting the ideals of beauty of the Royal Academy in the late 19th century.

Even though Cool was a well-known artist in the late 1800s, there is limited biographical information available about him, causing speculation about his influences and personal life. The absence of documentation creates a mysterious atmosphere around his identity, making it challenging to entirely grasp his artistic motivations and the environment in which he operated.