#I do not think I will encounter a cat like her again so long as I live

[tanadrin]

[ro-is-struggling]

Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)

English is not my first language

Word count: 3900

Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol

Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires. 

He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.

The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.

Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.

The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.

She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.

"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."

"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin. 

"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings. 

Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.

She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.

There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.

Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful. 

Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.

When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.

“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time. 

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."

"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.

Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.

He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."

He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.

Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.

The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before  —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.

It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind. 

He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.

"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.

"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."

Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.

She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.

The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again. 

"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?

"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.

"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.

"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.

"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. 

The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.

"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"

"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please." 

The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.

He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.

But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.

"Only time will tell."

[filthygalli]

When I Met you: Chapter 5 "Dinner"

Fem! Reader x Neighbor! Hwang In-Ho

Main Masterlist

Squid Game Masterlist

Genre/Tags: Grumpy x Sunshine, Light smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, Age gap (Reader is in her early 30’s, While In-Ho is in his late 40’s.) Rude In-Ho (but will eventually be soft with the reader Soon!) Literature Professor! In-Ho (Not specified what kind of literature) More Tags to come soon!

Warnings: Reader getting called "Sweetheart", Light teasing, Sexual innuendo, Jealous In-Ho, Sick reader, Husband material In-Ho, fluff, sweet, soft! In-Ho, not proofread let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 2550

Author's Note: OMG HI I'M BACK! it's been a while and I got loads of school works that's why I've been inactive:( but hey, we're getting somewhere—it's close but yet so farrrr but it's going to be fun!

© Pictures that are used are from Pinterest

You, In-Ho, and Marc—the three of you sat down at the dining table as you feasted on the food that was in front of you. “I didn't know you cooked this well,” Marc said as he took a spoonful of creamy ziti. The pasta tasted great; it's creamy but not too creamy. You chuckled at Marc's words, “Jesus, we've been friends for so long, and you're going to say that to me now? ” You teased as the two of you chuckled. Meanwhile, In-Ho sat there as he clenched his jaw tightly, grabbing the utensil in his hand as he glared down at the meal that you prepared a while ago. To be honest, it looks perfect; it's simple, but he admires how you cook such simple food and turn it into a five-star Michelin dish. He's annoyed and beyond jealous of what you and Marc have; he wishes he could talk the way Marc talks to you. He watches the way you laugh at Marc's teasing, how your face would slightly turn red when he teases you. He wants to be more for you and not just a grumpy neighbor who has a cat that you look after while he's at work. You noticed how In-Ho grew quiet. I mean—he is quiet but quieter than he used to be; it's like he's not there at all. A few seconds ago he was looking at you, and you smiled at him. He gave you a shy smile in return. Honestly, you're getting there; at least now you can see some of In-Ho's soft side, or maybe that's just how he is.

The sound of Marc's phone made you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, it's my mom; I have to take this—” he said as he stood up, answering his mother's call before going outside. That leaves you and In-Ho alone. There is again the uncomfortable silence between you and In-Ho; the only thing that you could hear is the heavy breathing and huff from In-Ho and the sound of the utensil scraping the surface of the plate. “In-Ho…” you said as you brought your gaze up to him. He stopped picking the food from his plate; he took a deep breath before looking at you. His gaze is different, different from the ones that you usually get to see; it's full of jealousy. He tightly clenched his fist holding the spoon. “What is it? ” His tone is unbearable; he sounds annoyed, almost mad actually. “Are you ok? ” You asked him, putting your fork down, “You've been…quiet.” He scoffed, “Since when did you care so much, Y/n? ” He said in a mocking tone. Your eyes widened at his words. You know he can be rude sometimes, but he is different. The tone from his words is far from the first time you two encounter each other. “What...? ” Your heart started to beat faster; did you do something wrong? Did you say something wrong? Fuck, didn't he like the food that you made? You kept yourself from thinking things that made In-Ho act like this. He grabbed the bottle of wine in front of you as he carefully poured himself a glass. He filled it almost full. He looked at you while he brought the glass to his lips, glaring at you as if you were his prey. He hummed at the taste of wine, licking his lips as he put the glass down on the table. He opened his mouth to say something, “Y/n, I—” The sound of the front door closing cut In-Ho’s words, “I’m sorry about that—something came up, and my mom needs me—” Marc said, scratching the back of his head. In-Ho rolled his eyes, “Oh, are you going to go? ” you said as concern hinted in your voice, “Yes…Look, Y/n, I wish I could stay for long; I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Marc said as he lightly ruffled your hair. In-Ho glared at Marc’s hand on your hair. He swears he’ll cut off that hand of his. Only he can touch you like that, not anyone else, just him. Marc smiled slightly as he saw you get sad that he was leaving, “I’ll text you when I get home,” he said as you gave him a pouty look; he chuckled. He turned to In-Ho, “Nice to meet you again, Mr. Hwang. I have to go, but please enjoy what Y/N prepared. Have a good night.” In-Ho didn’t say anything except gave Marc a nod; after that, Marc left your house, leaving you and In-Ho seated in silence. “In-Ho, are—” “I’m okay.” He cuts you off before you finish your sentence. “Alright…” you breathe out as In-Ho gives you an annoyed look; though he doesn't know how he will act because of what he witnessed earlier, he hates seeing you talking to Marc; he only wants you to talk to him.

“How's, uh—Yu-Jin? ” You brought up the question, making In-Ho look at you, “He's doing fine; he's sleeping when I left him.” He said coldly, and you nodded, “Why not bring him here? I can give him food if he's hungry.” You said smiling up at In-Ho, “I already fed him, Y/n.” He breathed out, “The food's great.” He added, “Oh...I—thank you! ” You replied, satisfied with In-Ho's feedback on your cooking. At first you were worried that he might not like it, but now that he said it, you feel a relief.

There it is again, the thick silence in the air; you don’t like it—you wish you could do something about it, maybe wash the plates now? Or just sit there and let In-ho feel the tension, the silence between you two? You didn’t notice that you’d been looking at In-ho for a while; you zoned out. In-ho cleared his throat to catch your attention, “You alright? ” His voice is soft and calculated as if he’s scared to say something rude, “Yeah…I'm just a bit tired, I guess…” you said as you gave him a small smile. You’ve been feeling not well since earlier this morning. You feel like you’re having a fever or a cold, but you decided to ignore it. “Go rest,” In-ho breathed out as he looked at you. “But I have to clean the dishes and—” “Go rest, I said. I’ll do it.” He cuts you off before you could finish your sentence, “In-Ho, that’s—” In-ho stood up and grabbed his plate and the others; he sighed as he felt himself getting a little annoyed at your stubbornness, “Sweetheart, just go rest; I’ll take care of whatever you need to do.” He said, slightly leaning down on you, your breath hitched as he cupped your chin with his index finger, making you focus your gaze on him.

The way he called you sweetheart made you blush; you just looked up at him in awe, still shocked with the little nickname he called you. In-ho noticed the way your face turned red when he called you sweetheart. He liked calling you that; it suits you. Hell, he wants to call you sweetheartevery day. He wants to make you feel loved without him telling you that he loves you. Maybe by calling you nicknames like that, it will do. Maybe someday he’ll tell you that he loves you.

“Are you sure…because I’m feeling fine, really—” In-ho deeply sighed, “so stubborn.” He breathed out, “What? ” you asked, confused about what he said, “Nothing, I said go rest, I’ll tidy up in here, and yes, it’s ok.” You were about to protest, but he cut you off again, “No buts, sweetheart, hmm? ” he said, leaning a little closer to your face. You nodded, “Atta girl,” he said as he grabbed your plate and went to your kitchen to wash the plates, leaving you sitting there alone as you watched his broad shoulders. You stood up feeling a little lightheaded as you walked towards the living room, lying down as you rested, listening to the soft rustle of the plates from the kitchen. You brought up your head, seeing In-ho wearing your apron while washing the dishes effortlessly. ‘Fuck, he’ll make a good husband,’ you thought as you smiled to yourself, lying back down on the sofa. Meanwhile, In-ho’s amazed at how organized your kitchen is, how every ingredient has its own label, the salt, pepper, paprika, oil, flour, everything—he finds it cute and clean. He also noticed the perfectly lined-up mugs with different colors, the espresso machine that’s neatly placed in the corner, and the drawers full of perfectly placed utensils. He admired it; he’s amazed. You’d make a good wife, a good wife for him.

Almost half an hour passed, and In-ho’s finally done washing and tidying up the kitchen and dining table. He likes to take his time when he’s cleaning things; he doesn’t like rushing it.

“Y/n, I—” He walked into the living room and saw your tiny figure curled up into a ball on your sofa; he couldn’t help but smile to himself, seeing your cute and sleeping figure in front of him. He sighed as he quietly walked towards you, admiring you in your sleep. He crouched down as he brought his hands to your face, tucking a stray hair out of your beautiful face. He chuckled as he heard you whimper in your sleep. As much as he wanted to admire you all night, he wanted to let you rest properly. He stood back up and carefully scooped you into his strong arms, afraid that he’d wake you, “In-ho...? ” You whimper, your soft and sleepy voice made him stop his movements “. It's me, Sweetheart. It's just me.” He said as he carefully walked upstairs to locate your room. You nuzzled your face on his neck; even when sleepy, you couldn't help but inhale the unique scent of In-Ho. The way his arms carried your tired body, his body was relaxed as if you weighed nothing. You curled your arms around his neck, embracing the moment. In-Ho got startled a little from your action; his face turned red from how tight you were embracing him. He twisted the metal knob of your room quickly with his other hand; afraid that you’d fall from his grip, he kicked the door slightly and held you back again.

He walked in your room—your room smells like you, sweet and aromatic. He liked that the walls are painted with pastel green, matching the white decorations hanging on the wall. He also noticed how neat and clean you are. He settled your sleeping figure on your bed. He crouched down as he put you down on your bed, tucking a stray hair away from your beautiful face. You whimpered, “In-ho…” Hearing his own name roll on your lips sends shivers down his spine. “hmm? ” he hummed in response, “Don’t leave...please? ” you said as you slowly opened your eyes to see in-ho crouching down beside you, face flustered, “Stay in for tonight, with me..” you added as you gave him a tired smile, a smile that never fails to make his stomach full of butterflies, “I will sweetheart, i won’t leave you.” In-ho fingers traced your cheeks and jaw, mesmerizing how beautiful you are, how soft your skin is, how he would protect you from anything that this world could do to harm you–you looked at him, eyes sparkling with how handsome and perfect he is, his lips that you swear you want those lips to travel all over your body–to explore each and every part of your skin, to kiss your little scars and imperfections, his sharp jawline that you want to trail your lips upon–his nose that you once imagine as he eats you out, that nose would hit your clit as he looks up at you while he devours you whole–His dark brown eyes that you swore many times that you got lost in those eyes, the way he looks at you, its something captivating and pure lust, “Y/n” he cuts you off from your deep thoughts, “Are you ok? Do you want me to get you some water?” he said as he removed his glasses, settling them down on your nightstand. You shook your head, “No…” He nodded as he caressed your hair while looking deeply in your eyes, “Alright, I’ll go sleep on the couch; I won’t leave, I promise.” In-ho was about to stand up as you softly grabbed his arm, stopping his movement, “Sleep here…” Your voice sounded tired and sleepy, “Are you sure? ” His voice is calm and collected, and you nodded, “Need your words, princess…” he said, almost chuckling. “Yes.” And that did it. In-ho removed his shoes and socks, settling them down under the bed. You watched him remove his watch and placed it on the nightstand beside you. He looked down at you, “Would you mind if I remove my shirt? ” he said as he played with the button of his button-up shirt, “I wouldn’t fucking mind, In-ho.’ You thought, “I-it’s ok…” you said as he nodded, unbuttoning his shirt while looking down on you; his movements are painfully slow; it's like he’s teasing you, but hey, you don’t mind. You noticed how toned his chest is, how athletic his body looks; at his age like that, it's quite unbelievable, a smirk ghosted on In-Ho’s lips as he noticed how intrigued you are with him. He chuckled as he threw the piece of fabric on the floor before settling down beside you, “It's quite hot; I don’t sleep with a shirt on, sorry,” he said as he explained himself, “It's ok…” you said as you felt his bare chest on you, “Why do you want me to sleep here? ” He said as he looked up at the ceiling, a silence cut through the thick air of tension between the two of you, “I don’t know…I feel safe when you’re here.” That made In-Ho smile, a smile that is always because of you, his sunshine neighbor who takes care of his cat, his neighbor that never fails to make him smile, the same neighbor that he imagines late at night while he jerks himself in the shower, on his bed, and even in his office.

“Goodnight, In-ho,” you said as you lazily smiled at In-ho, who was already looking at you. “Good night, sweetheart.” He watched you close your eyes as you drifted off to sleep, watching your chest slowly rise up and down as you whimpered in your sleep.

There’s something about this night that made In-ho feel content; he feels full and satisfied with your presence, your unique scent that never fails to make him hard. He sighs in relief as he watches you sleep; he chuckled as he saw your eyebrows furrowed in your sleep, “Why does she sleep like that?” he said to himself as he brought his hand up on your forehead—separating your eyebrows apart, “Much better” he muttered as he smiled seeing your pouty face while you slept. He leaned in to kiss your forehead but hesitated, “Maybe someday..” In-Ho groans as he admires your sleeping figure, you look so vulnerable, yet peaceful he feels content—he’s sure that he doesn't want this night to end but, It's been a long day for you and In-ho, a long day for him to remember, a night for him to cherish. He closes his eyes as he hopes to dream of you, to see your gorgeous face in his sleep.

Author's Note: I apologize if I was gone for a while, I had to finish my school works:(( I've got writers block like a few weeks ago and I couldn't finish my other chapters that's why it's been a while, but I promise to deliver goods fics for y'all! Thank you so so much for all of your support! Y'all's comment, reblog, likes, and encouragement keep me going!💚🖤

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[fxirybun]

💭 PAC: your DR s/o’s messages for you

this is a shift-related pick-a-card reading. DR means “desired reality” whilst s/o means “significant other”.

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ cat 🐈

thank you for being my source of light during my lowest point. you inspire me to think things positively and to motivate myself to improve on certain aspects of my life. your words of reassurance comforted me when I was doubting myself and my abilities of striving forward.

i see you as my mentor , the one who teaches me the art of appreciating oneself. you make me want to be a better person for you , sweetie , and I mean it. i don’t want to succumb myself in the dark any longer, and it was all thanks to you. thank you at the bottom of my heart for accepting me for who i am , even though you have seen my vulnerable side.

i may not be the perfect person that you wanted me to be , but I would like to ask you if you could give me a chance. a time for me to adjust myself and to reflect upon the flaws i have. life has been cruel to me ever since , and it was all because of the karma that I need to face from my past. but all this enduring misery led me to you and that our paths are meant to be crossed.

ෆ⸒⸒ coffee ☕

i came here to write down my thoughts about our connection. i've encountered numerous people in my life , who want to have a piece of myself and taste it for their pleasure. however , i can feel my heart wandering as if it were in constant search of something , of someone. who knew that this stained heart of mine was craving for you ? as i laid my eyes on you , i can feel the everlasting warmth that is emitted from you.

my sweetest devotion , your beauty outshines the rest , and better yet , i instinctively can see myself transforming into a moth , trying to come closer to the luminous star that can be only seen during the evening. i love how nurturing you are and that your intentions are pure , similar to how a mother fosters her children.

i would be lying if i told you that I’m not enthusiastic about our meeting. as a matter of fact , i'm getting impatient and am very much eager to encounter you sooner. i've been reckless about my actions in life by making poor choices and dating multiple people who would bring me more harm than good. please forgive me , my love , for being clueless that you were the one who could fill my heart’s desire.

ෆ⸒⸒ earphones 🎧

i've been meaning to write down my thoughts , though I’m not sure words can capture how much i miss you. i've met countless people , crossed paths with those who’ve sought my attention , but none have stirred my heart the way you do. lately , it feels as though my heart is wandering , always searching for something that’s missing—and that something is you. without you near , it’s as if a piece of me is lost , drifting in the void.

i think back to the moments when i was by your side , and the warmth you bring feels like a distant memory i can’t let go of. your presence has an undeniable gravity , pulling me in like the moon draws the tide. even in the quietest of nights , i find myself longing for the sound of your voice , the comfort of your touch. my world feels dimmer without you here , as if the light only returns when you’re close.

i never thought that i'd feel so incomplete in someone’s absence , but the truth is , i'm counting down the moments until we can be together again. every day that passes without you feels like a lifetime. please do know that you are never far from my thoughts , and i'm longing for the day when this distance between us is finally closed.

[songbirdseung]

you again? / park jongseong

synopsis: fate loves bringing you and jay together, specifically in an airport with same flights and destinations.

pairing: idol!jay x non-idol!yn

first encounter / 8 years old

"honey, help your dad with the bags." it was that time again, your biannual family trip. Summer was here and it was time to unwind and relax.

you hopped out of the car holding your little black cat plushie and ran to the carts near the airport entrance then brought it back to your father. "thank you sweetie" he pats your head and starts unloading the trunk.

as you went through the airport check in, security, and duty free you greeted everyone with a wave and hello, your mom holding your free hand with a smile on her face as she looked at you. "you little sunshine, you really like making friends?" she asked as you reached your gate; you nod enthusiastically.

your eyes still scan the airport with the same glimmer of curiosity and excitement, even if you've been to that airport more than your little fingers could count. you take in the summer decorations and in the midst of that, your eyes land on a boy who you think is the same age as you. taking in his features and glance down at your cat plushie, picking it up so it could be at the same level as the boy's face. you smile and see a resemblance. "mommy, look that boy looks like my kitty cat." she agrees and teases you about your little crush. "i didn't say that" you whine and pout. "oh yeah, if you don't have a crush on him, go talk to him" she chuckles and nudges her husband as they both watch you walk over to the boy.

"hi, im yn. what's your name?" you say as you sit next to him. he pays you no attention as he continues to play with his nintendo ds. his dad notices your presence and gives you a warm smile, he then removes the gadget out of his son's hands. before he could say anything, his dad points in your direction. finally, his eyes meet yours. "she asked you for your name, son" poor boy is so confused and wonders how long you have been sitting next to him. "im..jay"

second encounter / 9 years old

here you were again, at the airport getting ready to go. you were sitting at the airport's many food courts with your parents when you saw him again. even your own parents were shocked when they realized you still remember the boy you met last year, a boy you only talked to for 25 minutes. placing your hot chocolate which would now be forgotten as you ran 4 tables down to where he was.

"jay? my black cat jay? that's you right?" you were met with another warm smile from his parents and a confused stare from jay. "i met you last year and you probably don't remember me but that doesn't matter, it's nice to see you again. you ramble and tug at his long sleeve in excitement. his dad offers you a chair and helps you get up. "i'm sorry about her" your mom says from behind you. only to be reassured that it was fine and they love the interactions.

after jay's parents offered your parents to sit with them and let the two children have fun. (more like you bothering jay for the time being). there was a good 30 minutes that went by when the airport was announcing your flight was boarding. you all bid your goodbyes and as you were leaving, you noticed a plushie next to jay, it was your black cat plush you gave him last year.

third encounter / 9 years old

it wasn't a long wait to see him again, because in a few months. you met him again. this time, he wasn't so reluctant to see or talk to you. this time, he was actually having a great time playing games with you. so much fun that his parents were filming the two of you so later on the plane his parents would tease him and say he has a crush on you. oh, and your parents would do the same.

"isn't it funny how we only see each other at the airport and never anywhere else?"

"yeah, but we meet every year, so i'm not worried to not see you and having fun"

you two innocent souls did not know what would be happening next.

fourth encounter / 18 years old

you sighed for the nth time because you were sitting in the same uncomfortable airport benches. your friend decided it was better to arrive at the airport 4 hours earlier than boarding time. your apartment in seoul was only 20 minutes away from the airport, but for some reason you were here at the airport earlier than you wanted.

to kill time, you were walking around the airport's duty free. distracting yourself from the excruciating time wait. while you were doing so, you noticed a bunch of cameras when you reached back to your gate. you said whatever and walked past to explore the airport you have already been in.

"why can't we go back to our gate, we are definitely not going to have any seats left" your best friend whined as she tried to drag you back to the gate. "who else is going to arrive when our flight is in 3 hours?"

after a few minutes of bickering, you decided to sit down and give your legs and feet a break from all that walking. going back to the gate, you scanned the camera crew and what they were filming, you took notice of seven good looking guys, assuming they were actors or singers. you shrugged and minded your own business and sat back in the seat you and your best friend sat earlier.

putting your headphones on and opening your laptop to watch a movie to kill time. what you failed to notice was one of those seven boys looking at you. jay, noticed you ever since you walked past them the first time. in his eyes and mind, you looked very familiar, despite not seeing each other in 9 years, he remembered you.

debating whether or not to approach you or not, was it okay? did you even remember him. it has been 9 years and you both grown up so much. shortly after, you sensed a person sitting next to you. typically, your younger self would have greeted them but now that you were a young adult, you realized and found out that not all people are nice. so, you sat there in silence, still scrolling on your phone with your headphones in. only for that peace and serenity to be taken away from you when the person next to you took one of your headphones off. "you're not even going to say hi?" it was jay, your black cat.

fifth encounter / 20 years old

today was a little weird. you always found it easy to get through the airport with no problems. but today, you had time to find parking, to get through a crowd that usually was never there. upon reaching the entrance, you noticed so many girls holding up their phones and waiting on someone. you shrug your shoulders, thinking it's just another celebrity going overseas for a work schedule.

either way, you got to your gate and sat at the waiting area near your gate. sipping on your coffee as you replied back to the "safe travels" text you got from your family and friends. as you were watching tiktoks, you stumbled upon a video of jay and his group. it's been two years since the last time you saw him and both of you didn't even think of getting each other's numbers or social medias. but then again you did not want to distract him or get him in trouble if ever.

for some reason, you kind of wished that fate would bring you together again, since it loves to only let you meet him in the airport. so, you were looking out for him.

right on cue, he walks through the airport with his crew. then something hits you, what if you see him and he sees you then he doesn't remember you because he does meet to many people a day and what if you wave at him and thinks you're a fan? so many what if fill you mind that when he finally sees you, you're not looking.

but luckily, you again, have the same flight to germany. he splits from the group and decides to sit next to you despite the manager calling out to him. "you look like you're deep in thought yn" you whip your head, and he chuckles at your shocked expression. "oh, c'mon we always meet at the airport, why you still shocked i'm here?" you nudge him in the shoulder and explain your side.

it felt nice talking to jay, even though you two were both yappers, your dynamic somehow fit together like pieces of a puzzle. "do you still have that cat i gave you when we were 8?"

"you shouldn't be worried of me not remembering you, because that plushie sleeps next to me on my bed."

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things 📍 Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find your estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman. 

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm. 

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming. 

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her? 

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.” 

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction. 

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that. 

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock. 

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her. 

“Love” her. 

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move. 

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door. 

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response. 

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.” 

“Oh hey!” 

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill. 

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers. 

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin. 

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up. 

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back. 

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off. 

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms. 

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.” 

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners. 

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!” 

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine. 

Yes, he was a man. 

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before. 

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

And did that matter at all? 

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words. 

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours. 

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant. 

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens? 

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely. 

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge. 

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe. 

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful. 

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others. 

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.  

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below. 

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. 

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[mourningsbane]

Hi there! I'm also into Warrior Cats, and I have just stumbled my way to your blog, by chance. It's really great, and I love the stories, art, and character design, especially Honeyspring.

So, I actually have a bunch of small questions:

1. Since Honeyspring died of illness (and blood loss), where are her kits now? Did they also pass away with her? And if they did, shouldn't they be with her in Starclan?

2. If she would have to pick, which currently alive cat in the clan would be Honeyspring's favourite? (I'm guessing one of the kits)

3. Does Honeyspring remember her mate, or will that make sad or angry just thinking about him?

4. What are Honeyspring's favourite prey-kills?

5. What is Honeyspring's favourite season?

6. What are her opinions on twolegs? Did she ever encounter them when she was alive?

And, that's it. Sorry if they're long, but I'm really curious about Honeyspring and her backstory. She's so interesting. Also, I offer her this feather that I've just found:

It's a blue Jay feather, and it's really beautiful. It will totally suit Honeyspring. I'm sure she'll like it. 😊

Honeyspring accepts your gift, and with it, grows vestigial tethers. Soon, but for now, your questions shall be answered.

1.) Honeyspring's kits are...around. Pray you never see them, those nightmare unborns. They both do and do not exist and so they flicker in juxtaposition.

2.) Honeyspring's favorite cat in LutumClan is Sweetkit. They talk often, as well as Honeyspring physically can. Sweetkit reminds Honeyspring of a gentler time and brings a specific memory to mind.

3.) Honeyspring remembers and loves Flaildrizzle. They were going to raise Honeyspring's kits together. Honeyspring can hardly wait to see her again.

4.) Honeyspring's favorite prey kills are mice! She specifically likes them when they are small and bite-sized. Something about being able to swallow them whole is appealing to her!

5.) Unlike most cats in LutumClan, Honeyspring's favorite season is winter! She does not appreciate the scarcity of prey, but the coziness of cuddling up with clan mates endears it to her. She has always enjoyed the community.

6.) LutumClan does not encounter twolegs often due to being so rural. They encounter the occasional hunter and dogs looking for a few rabbits or pheasants and greatly fear their arrival. Honeyspring had never encountered a twolegs in her lifetime but had heard the distant booms of their sticks of thunder.

You don't have to worry about asking long questions! I do not mind answering them, and it gives me a reason to think about things that I had not necessarily considered until now! :D

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (9)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, first date, fluff, rusty flirting skills

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (8)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Sam Wilson is a patient man. Usually, he doesn’t lose his cool easily. But watching Bucky change his outfit for the sixth time only to wear a similar pair of blue jeans and a shirt makes him huff.

“Barnes, it’s the same shirt you tried an hour ago. If you keep changing clothes, you’ll run later for your first date.”

“What? No! I need to find the perfect outfit to impress her. I can’t just wear a random pair of jeans,” Bucky furrows his brows in confusion.

How can Sam not see that this is the most important outfit Bucky will ever wear? No, that’s wrong. The most important outfit will be the suit he will wear on your wedding day. One outfit at a time.

“Does she know about your secret?” Sam asks, and Bucky’s blood runs cold. Does Sam know? Did he find out that Bucky was following you for months?

“What?” Bucky hiccups. “What do you mean?”

“That you are a one hundred- and six-year-old grump,” Sam grins, and Bucky releases a shuddery breath. Phew, Sam doesn’t know. “I bet you didn’t tell her.”

“She likes me,” Bucky nods to himself. “Alpine too. She tried to save my cat, believing Alpine got lost.”

“I still can’t believe you bumped into the same woman asking me for help at the park,” Sam chuckles at Bucky’s angry expression. If looks could kill, Sam would be dead. “Don’t kill me. I saw her first. It’s not my fault you didn’t join me that day. Don’t worry, I won’t steal your girl. Even though, I could.”

“No, you can’t. She’s a lady, an honorable dame,” Bucky grumbles. He looks in the mirror to check on his outfit again. “What do you think?”

“Why do you ask me?” Sam laughs. “It’s a pair of jeans and a tee, Bucky. She already agreed to go out with you. You didn’t scare her off with your grumpy attitude. This woman is a match. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”

“My therapist said it’s too early,” Bucky sighs. He already decided not to listen to his therapist, but he wants Sam’s opinion. With Steve gone, Sam is the only person he can talk to.

Sam furrows his brows. It’s the first time Bucky openly talked about his therapy or anything personal at all. He was surprised he told him about you. Now he speaks about his therapist too.

“Who cares?” Sam shrugs. “All I can say is that you are the happiest since you told me about her. Take it slow, and everything will fall into place. Therapists do not know it all. Just don’t be a grump around her.”

Bucky gives Sam a bitchface. He’s grateful for Sam’s advice, though. Hopefully, Sam will never find out about Bucky’s obsession and that his encounter with you wasn’t a stroke of luck.

You’re nervous. Like really nervous.

At least you found the perfect outfit for your first date with Bucky. He invited you for coffee, but you want to look pretty for him.

Checking your outfit in the mirror again you smile. You bought an elegant retro polka dot and cherry print dress. The dress has a sweetheart neckline, a fitted bodice, and flattering cap sleeves. The blood-red coral ball stud earrings you bought round off your outfit.

Bucky is so handsome, and you love how he looks after you. If you mess this first date up, he could lose interest in you.

It’s been a while since you met someone you liked from the beginning. Bucky is sweet, and charming, has the bluest eyes you ever saw, and his cat is cute too.

You want this man, and you won’t let him slip through your fingers. No matter what, you will do anything to win him over.

Bucky Barnes is your while wale, and you’re going to catch him.

You twirl around, giggling and squealing because you feel pretty, and this wonderful man wants to go out with you.

“Hi,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. Bucky looks so good today. You don’t know that he changed his outfit again. This time he chose black jeans and a blue button-up. “You’re early, I like it.”

“A gentleman should always be on time to pick a dame up,” Bucky nervously says. He offers flowers to you, daisies, and one of his rare smiles.

“Oh, these are wonderful.” You accept the flowers with a smile. “Let me put them in a vase. I got something for you too.”

“I’ll be waiting here.” Bucky waits outside of your apartment while you put the flowers in a vase.

In a hurry, you grab your bag and the gift you bought to not let him wait for much longer.

“I’m ready,” you excitedly push the gift in Bucky’s hands. “It’s nothing special, but I saw this cute toy for Alpine and had to buy it.” Bucky unwraps the box, grinning because you bought a toy mouse for Alpine. “It’s cute. Right?”

“Very cute,” he agrees as he stuffs the mouse into his pocket. “Alpine will love it. Maybe you can watch them play with it.”

“I’d like that,” you reply without thinking twice. “Not today…maybe.” You don’t want to seem too eager. “Maybe we can meet at your apartment next time.”

“Yes,” Bucky hastily says. “We should go now.” He offers his arm to you, making you swoon even harder. This man is an old-fashioned gentleman, and you love it.

“Do you like living in this neighborhood?” You ask while walking along the sidewalk. “Do you like your apartment?”

“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he softly replies. “I already like one of my neighbors.”

You giggle. “Aw, I wish you lived next door,” you lean your head against his arm. “We could share food and have movie nights.”

“Oh—” Bucky licks his lips. Damnit, he didn’t think of moving in next to you. This would’ve made things so much easier. “So, what do you do if you’re not saving cats?”

“I work at an office,” you sigh. “Boring, I know. I bet your job is much more…interesting.”

“Not really,” he lies. “I-uh…I’m somehow between two jobs.” Bucky huffs. It’s not a complete lie. He still tries to get back on his feet. Finding a job isn’t easy if you are a one hundred- and six-years former assassin. If not for the huge amount of money Steve left him, Bucky would be struggling to make ends meet. “I was in the security sector.”

“Interesting,” you gasp. “Whoa, I bet you protected famous people. You seem to be very strong too.”

Bucky smirks when you hold tight onto his arm and sigh. This date is the first step toward a bright future, he’s sure about it.

He only needs to hide that he stalked you for months…

Part 10

Tags in reblog.

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hello friends! It's that time of year when it's time to escape into some nice fics with a hot cup of tea or cocoa. And while, Christmas fics are traditional, I've been reading some vampire fics that I had to share. And I read a vampire book that's SO R/S I had to include it on the list. (Extra spicy).

Below you'll find a link to the first Vampire list I ever made, as well as the new recs. Hope you enjoy!

Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 1

Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 2

New Blood by @gardenoflupins Remus comes to consciousness as a new and inexperienced vampire. In his disoriented state, he leaves a bunch of dead bodies lying around, which gets the attention of a much older and more powerful vampire named Sirius who guides him through the stages of vampirism.

What Lurks in the Shadows by @puuvillaa When Remus leaves work after dark, he encounters a vampire.

all the hot singles in your area are dead by @atroposaeneas The first vampire who comes to campus is annoying. The second one is an unwelcome, if begrudgingly pleasant, surprise. The third, fourth, and fifth vampires, on the other hand… No matter. Remus has been alive far, far too long to have his resolve broken on behalf of someone like Sirius Black.

My Roommate is a Vampire by @moonyverse “Remus! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily asks. He continues wiping, focussing on a particularly stubborn stain. “Tell you what?” “About your secret boyfriend.” Remus spins around. “My what?” “Don’t act so surprised. Your neck is covered in hickeys and you thought I wouldn’t notice?” "Er, yeah… sorry." Remus wracks his brain to think of an excuse. Anything but the truth. He sputters out a lie, "It was a one-time thing, is all." It was better than telling her his roommate is a vampire whom he lets take his blood on a biweekly basis.

I'm starving, darling. by @marigold-hills “Dear gods you are gorgeous,” the man said before Remus could utter a sound. “I’m so sorry about this. Truly. I wouldn’t, but it’s a rather desperate situation you see.” I’m going to get mugged, Remus realised. Here, under the sharp stars, in the soft snow, by the hands of the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on. And wasn’t that just his luck. “Trust me,” the man continued, “I am no more pleased about it than you are, but it’s a matter of life and death at this point, otherwise… well, sorry. Again.” Remus is accosted by a vampire on his way home. Strange in itself. But when the vampire realises he has anaemia, he starts bringing him food. And medication. And nice little treats to make him feel better. And - well. Remus never claimed to be a man of strong convictions.

A Taste of Your Love by starsnsoul “It’s dangerous out here at night,” Remus wet his lips, suddenly aware of how dry they were, “and we’re quite far from the nearest town.” The man in front of him continued to gaze up at him, eyes twinkling with a dangerous look, seeming to dare him to ask risky questions, to probe and let curiosity kill the cat. “What’s your name?” he asked, feigning ignorance to Remus’ concern. “Remus.” He answered without a second thought to who he was telling this to, something about the other man made him want to lay himself out bare, secret’s spilling out into the night air, all the good and the ugly. Something about the other man was dangerous but Remus felt the blood in his veins ignite at the thought. “Remus,” the man with eyes like the moon whispered, “I’m Sirius.”

aka. the one where Sirius is a vampire and Remus a cowboy and they fall in love {inspired by likeafuneral's art and a wip I had going on as well as my life growing up on a farm}

closer to heaven by @moonymoment “And you’re… high.” “As a kite, baby,” Sirius says, clicking his tongue. Remus inhales sharply. “High… on drugs. That kind of high.” Sirius looks at him. “Do I have to do the sarcastic bit again, or is this stare enough to indirectly call you stupid?” he asks, and then makes a Face™ at Remus that falls somewhere between “you’re ridiculous” and “you’re a knob”, although he can’t promise that “I’m morosexual and this close to taking my pants off” isn’t being conveyed as well.

BOOK REC:

Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you're looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with rich, hot, older vampire "Sirius" + nurse cinnamon roll "Remus". Roman by Grae Bryan 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

“And for the record…my demon does not just like you. It craves you. Is obsessed with you. Wants to own you and devour you and never let you go. You would run for the hills if you could hear what it thinks about you. What I think about you.”

Don't forget to share this list with your own recs and leave a comment for the authors. ❤️

Happy reading lovelies, The Wolfstar Librarian

[ghoulsbounty]

can you make a fic abt baby billy and like being one of his wives or like when he's on the run from tiff idrk depends on what you want to do

A Fall From Grace

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Baby Billy comes seeking comfort, and you are always willing to shoulder the burden.

Warnings: smut (18+), backshot, cum eating (kinda), p in v, alluding to an affair, mentions of religious beliefs relating to the show, angst, alcohol, smoking, emotional hurt/comfort, reader pining for baby billy, dejection.

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Anon and anon, thank you for requesting that I write for this emotionally stunted baby man. I love him, I love the show, and the world needs Baby Billy fics! This is set before he is with Tiff (because I love her.) I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

You longed to utter the words, to express disbelief at finding yourself in this familiar game of cat and mouse once more. But honesty was a luxury you couldn't afford, not when your conscience was already weighed down by a litany of sins. Each lie added to the burden, and you couldn't bear to heap more upon your soul.

There was a time, not so long ago, you walked the path of life with a sense of purpose and righteousness. Like any devout believer, you diligently carried out God's will, spreading His word among the neighbours of Pumpkintown. But then, on a scorching summer's day, destiny led you through Freeman's Gap, where you found yourself standing at his doorstep. From that moment, everything changed.

Baby Billy, with his irresistible charm and captivating façade, swiftly drew you into his intricate web of deception. His presence cast a shadow over your once-virtuous existence, blurring the boundaries between right and wrong. In his company, your convictions faltered, and the very essence of your faith began to erode. Slowly but surely, he transformed you from a devout Christian into a mere echo of your former self.

No matter how many times you had promised yourself that this would be the last time, that you wouldn't let it happen again, it all amounted to more lies to add to the growing list. When he reappeared in your life after an eighteen-month absence, you were poised to slam the door shut in his face. But he possessed a silver tongue that could persuade the sun to set twice.

So here you were, pressed face down against the mattress, your skin glistening with sweat as he drove into you from behind. This was your preferred position; it prevented him from gazing at you with adoration, as if you were the centre of his universe, while he consumed every inch of your being. It made it easier to bear his departure after he was done with you, when he didn't linger. The ache in your chest always remained, but your time with Baby Billy had made you realize that you were nothing if not resilient.

Your gaze lingered on the half-empty bottle of gin perched on the bedside table. It was his customary offering, always referred to as your favourite. Whether it truly held that distinction was a matter of uncertainty, but you always accepted it. Flowers and chocolate might have softened the edges of your encounters with him, but they could never dull the sharp pang of inevitable loss you’d feel when he returned to whichever-number wife he was on.

"I'll accept the bottle, but not the intent," you would murmur each time he presented it, extending the gesture like an olive branch. His eyes would gleam with anticipation, tinged with a hint of apprehension, as he waited to be welcomed in. How many lies had you accumulated by now?

More than you cared to count. This self-proclaimed righteous man of God would lead you to the depths of hell itself if it meant avoiding solitude, and you would willingly follow. That was the truth.

"Haven't lost you now, have I?" His voice snapped you out of your trance, his hips grinding against your backside with a fervour that seemed desperate to anchor you to him.

Clutching the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you shook your head. "I'm here, Baby Billy."

He chuckled, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips as he pulled back slightly before thrusting back in with force. Your walls tightened around him, drawing out the most obscene moans from his lips as he maintained an unfaltering rhythm.

"You're always here for Baby Billy," he remarked with a hint of satisfaction. "You're a good girl."

The words ignited a surge of conflicting emotions within you, sending sparks flying through your mind. Somewhere deep within, a wire seemed to short circuit, and you found yourself instinctively grinding your hips back against him, matching his movements.

"Damn," he sighed, his voice heavy with gratification, as one hand dropped to your front. His fingers traced along your wet folds until he found the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a high-pitched wail from your lips. "Well, if that ain't the prettiest thing I've ever heard."

His other hand released your hip, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you against his sticky chest. The new position drove him deeper, your head leaning back against his shoulder in the crook of his neck as he slowed to a heavy grind. His fingers continued their expert ministrations on your clit, tracing familiar circles, while his other hand left your hair to grab harshly at your breast, pinching your nipple just as he knew you liked.

"Let me see you now," he panted. You hadn't realized you'd squeezed your eyes shut until he slapped your clit with an open palm, causing you to flinch against him, and when you opened them, he was looking down at you with those hazel eyes that sucked you in every time. "There she is. Tell Baby Billy what you want from him."

He always did this, despite your attempts to bury your face into the mattress to hide from what you were doing with him. He always found a way to make you look at him, to confront your demons and tell him what you desired most from him. It was as if he couldn't let you come out of this unscathed, regardless of his claims that he needed you right there with him.

He didn't truly need you, not in the sense of wanting you for anything more than warming his cock and easing the burden of the life he had created for himself. You were a distraction from the suffering he had caused, never once caring for your own.

You wished you could refuse him. In every other aspect of your life, you were strong, but when it came to Baby Billy Freeman, your resolve wavered with just one look. Perhaps it was the underlying desperation he always seemed to exude, making you feel sorry for him, as if you were providing a service by temporarily alleviating his misery. Eventually, you stopped trying to make sense of it, allowing it to happen and taking from it what you wanted, what you needed.

"I want to cum," you breathed against the skin of his neck, then remembered what he always liked to hear. "Please, Baby Billy."

The familiar tightening in your stomach signalled your impending climax, and he seemed to sense it too, his movements growing more urgent as your walls fluttered around him, drawing him deeper with each thrust. His fingers worked faster against your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing against his as you cried out into the silence of the bedroom.

He grunted, continuing to thrust into you through your orgasm, your walls milking him as you pulsed around him. Your body went limp as the last surge of electricity shot through you, and he tossed you back onto the mattress to reach his own release. A few more thrusts, then you felt the tell-tale stutter of his hips before he withdrew completely, leaving your pussy feeling empty and used. The sound of your juices squelching around him filled the room as he used them to pleasure himself, pumping once, twice before finally cumming hard onto your ass with a shout of release.

You laid there, your sweaty face pressed against the sticky cotton sheet as you slowly grounded yourself back to reality. He panted above you, running a finger over the curves of your ass, scooping his release from you before bringing it to your mouth. You accepted it, your tongue swirling around his finger, lips closing around him as you sucked the salty mixture and swallowed it down. It was a habit he enjoyed, claiming that if he couldn't cum inside you, he at least wanted to ensure you received what he was giving in some way. It had become a routine you found yourself needing more than you cared to admit.

He withdrew his finger, delivering a sharp slap to your ass before rising from the bed. The mattress groaned with his movement, and you lay still as he carried out his next habitual task. Moments later, he returned, a lit cigarette between his lips and a wet cloth in his hand as he gently cleaned off the evidence of his release from your behind before tossing it onto the bedside table with a wet thwack. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned over you with an arm resting on the mattress. You turned onto your back underneath him, running your fingers over his forearm as he looked down at you.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, tracing patterns through the hair on his arm.

"Like what, angel?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement as he brought the cigarette to your lips. You took a drag before he reclaimed it, exhaling slowly as your eyes met his.

"Like you might love me," you whispered.

He chuckled, briefly glancing away before returning his gaze to you. "Maybe I do."

Once, you believed you loved him, back when you were still innocent to the manipulative games he played and your part in it all. But that belief didn't last long; you soon learned to shut it out, along with the company of men who weren't him.

"Right girl, wrong time," he had once told you, but you quickly learned that the right time would never come.

For Baby Billy, love wasn't in the equation. It soon became clear that he merely enjoyed the possession of you. You were like an old toy to him, tossed aside until he desired to play with you again. Your emotions, your needs, they were secondary to his whims, serving only to satisfy his fleeting desires.

Baby Billy Freeman didn't love you, he loved having you.

He would depart soon, leaving you with uncertainty about when you would see him again. Yet, deep down, you knew he would return. He always did, seeking refuge in your presence to distract himself from the harsh realities of his life. And you would be there for him, as you always were.

Because unfortunately, somewhere along the way of Baby Billy using you like a drug, you had become addicted yourself.

[samirant]

Dungeon Crawler Carl & You

*taps microphone*

Okay, so I've been going off about Dungeon Crawler Carl for months now and I do not see it stopping at any point, so let's see if I can entice one or two of you to join in my madness.

DCC is Lit RPG and written like a video game come to life, from the point of view of the contestants trapped within the game. There are levels to conquer and loot boxes and quests and an AI running things that has a very tenuous hold on stability to begin with and doesn't keep it for very long.

Carl is just... a guy. He's just a guy with a traumatic backstory that he's squished deep down inside himself because he doesn't like drama and he thinks he's doing just fine because it's done, you know? It's in the past, can't change it, can't hurt him anymore.

(It can hurt him. It does hurt him.)

The world as we know it is destroyed in a split second, Carl surviving by mere happenstance and the only reason he goes into the dungeon is that he will literally freeze to death otherwise. At no point is this guy searching for glory or thinking he's a savior, he's just trying to survive another day. That Carl happens to have his ex-girlfriend's prize-winning tortie Persian cat with him is a coincidence - and it turns out to be his major lifeline in the entire series. Princess Donut is his partner in crime, his bestie for life and if he ever loses her, he will lose everything. Goodbye to the last vestiges of his sanity.

The first couple levels are pretty contained, Carl & Donut learning the ropes and how to survive every encounter with increasingly powerful enemies who want nothing more than to see them dead, the eyes of the universe and the corporations running the shitshow ever focusing on them and trying to eke out as much profit as possible at the same time.

Then they meet other survivors - both good and misled - and the beauty of humanity comes out, the sacrifices they are willing to make for one another, the knowledge that they aren't likely to survive, but they make the right choices anyway because dying might be bad, but letting each other down is worse.

The secondary characters grow in complexity with every level. Where it was once just Carl & Donut, it becomes dozens of characters, from all over the world, all of them gifted in their own way, all of them fighting as best they can, some of them betrayed, some of them dying, some of them choosing to go out on their own terms. Men and women and animal alike, they are individual and committed to the greater good.

Matt Dinniman has written a series that takes an emotional toll on its readers: pain, loss, horror, humor, desperation, walking through life with an unrelenting grief. There are dick jokes and drug-dealing, lava-spitting llamas and riffs on Wonderwall and lines like: Trauma does that, I thought. It's an explosion with your heart at the center. It changes everything all at once.

Also, there are velociraptors.

And a decapitated, talking sex doll head that wants to kill everyone's mothers.

It's a LOT of stuff going on, all right?

And just as you think the story can't get any better, enter Jeff Hays. Our audiobook narrator, our man of a hundred distinct voices. Good god, he's phenomenal. I've listened to so many books and while there are some very talented narrators out there, Jeff Hays leaves them in the motherfucking dust. I honest to god thought he was using an app to manipulate his voice for different characters until I saw him narrating in real time and I was utterly blown away by his talent.

The combination of this story by Matt Dinniman and narration by Jeff Hays has me going back, time and time again. I recommend the experience wholeheartedly and hope you'll give it a chance.

[spotsandsocks]

🎃 cat

Hello and thank you for trick or treating with me - I got to 650 ish words with this one so here we go with cat

Dinner is over and a surreptitious check confirms no one is watching him. Eddie stands up as casually as he can to take his plate to the kitchen then edges carefully towards the pole. Not too slow or too fast nothing to attract attention. You wouldn't think it but its actually the fastest and least obvious exit to take as long as everyone else is looking in the opposite direction. Luckily for him they are. Not that he’s doing anything wrong but he could do without the inevitable comments that will come if he’s caught.

Glancing around one last time everyone looks fully occupied so he makes his break for freedom, fully aware that he’s five minutes later than usual and that means there will be complaints. Someone won’t be happy with him. The lump in his pocket reassures him he’s prepared for the encounter so he’ll be forgiven quickly enough.

One hand on the pole he makes a last check. It’s been particularly hard to avoid Buck catching on to what he’s doing because he’s so often with him or looking at him. However at the moment Buck is fully engaged in a heated debate with Ravi and Chim about the relevant merits of some social media site he’s never heard of.

Taking advantage of that he vanishes out of sight.

Downstairs his exit is significantly easier, most of the shift are still upstairs, a few other occupied by the gym equipment or chores Bobby set. He makes it out to the back of the station without having to explain why he slinking around.

He wouldn’t be in this predicament if she wasn’t so cute and he hadn’t fallen completely in love. If Buck finds out he’ll never hear the end of it.

The packet slips out of his pocket with a crinkle and within seconds she’s there. Making a lot of noise, as he suspected, she’s cross with him but as he also knew the treats laid out on his hand soon fix that. Eddie sits down and the cat he refuses to name purrs wildly, butting her head against his fingers demanding attention and affection.

“Hello beautiful” he whispers, giving the golden brown tabby cat the fussing she wants.” How’s your day going?”

The stray he’s very much not in the process of adopting purrs some more and climbs into his lap. She is very pretty and absolutely adorable. Still young, probably not even two yet. He doesn’t need a cat. He doesn’t want a cat. He hasn’t got a cat.

Yet.

He smiles down at the one kneading his thigh happily and strokes her ears. It’s not his fault if she’s so fluffy and cute is it? How’s he supposed to resist. He knows Buck and the others are bound to find out soon but until they do he kind of likes having this little lady to himself.

*

“Where’s Eddie?”

Hen asks the person most likely to know. She’s looked everywhere and she wants him to help with the inventory downstairs but he’s vanished. Buck looks back over his shoulder at her, pausing whatever argument he’s having with Chim.

“He’s out the back, he snuck out to see his cat again, thinks I don’t know.” Buck shakes his head in disbelief. “As if…”

As if indeed Hen thinks and trades a look with her partner who’s sat next to his brother in law and pulling a face Buck doesn’t notice. It’s funny how Buck notices some things instantly and other things get totally missed. The guy had a set of weirdly specific interests.

And speaking of Buck’s weirdly specific interests Hen looks and eventually finds the missing firefighter sat outside talking quietly to a small noisy cat. She can hear it purring from the door she’s hiding behind.

Eddie looks so calm and happy that she retreats quietly the way she came with her own smile. She can wait a little longer for Eddie to come back from not too secret adventures in kitty sitting some things are just too adorable to interrupt.

Sorry for all the tags these last few days you must be tired of me!! Only one more after this and then I’ll be quiet for a while @actualalligator @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @bekkachaos @caroandcats @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @darkrose6578 @diazsdimples @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @hermscat @hippolotamus @inell @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @repressedqueen @ronordmann @stagefoureddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @shipperqueen6 @tizniz @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @underwaterninja13 @wildlife4life

[messiahzzz]

You’re one of the most annoying people on this site. And that really says A LOT because WOW! Shut the Fuck up about Gale wanting to be a father or not. He never says that he doesn’t want to be one. You projecting things onto him doesn’t make it Canon.

on a serious note: i’m certainly not the one that continuously brings up this topic unprompted. i personally really don’t understand the entire controversy around the topic or why fandom feels the need to rehash this conversation almost weekly. i truly believe that there’s nothing more of value to learn from it, to address, or add to it… yet fandom won’t let it rest.

to once again clarify: what i mean by “gale wanting to be a father isn’t canon” is that there is no evidence/neither hints anywhere in any of the dialogue that support the contrary. characters like h*lsin, w*ll and la*’zel have entire adoption subplots. all of them mention their children explicitly during the epilogue:

narrator: *your soul warms thinking of lily aurora ravengard, your adopted daughter. a treasure of a girl, found at the entrance of the open hand temple - one grey eye, one brown.* w*ll: ah, the girl could melt the staunchest heart. she might even have brought a smile to old withers' face! w*ll: but tonight is for us - and lily's only four months of age, besides. i promise, the temple will keep her in good care.

player: and our little hatchling? is he safe? la*'zel: of course. i have complete trust in our newest allies. xan is in fine hands tonight. la*'zel: what a wonder he is. he will be a fine warrior, if he chooses. or a poet, or an explorer, or a scholar.

h*lsin: being away from it... i cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence. player: we'll be back before they know it. h*lsin: i hope so. the children shall miss their bedtime tale tonight - though perhaps i can glean a few new stories from our friends here, to make up for it.

even shad*wh*art has a line where she briefly mentions that children might be a possibility for her in the future.

shad*wh*art: and i get to see my parents almost every day - i need to make every moment with them count, after so much was stolen from us. but they're doing well, [...] shad*wh*art: who knows? perhaps they'll have grandchildren before long.

gale in comparison? he has none of that. he remains childfree during the entirety of the game + epilogue. in fact, his line in the epilogue that addresses the topic of grandkids is this one:

tara: this is why mrs. dekarios and i will be waiting an eternity more for grandchildren. nodecontext: self-pitying gale: psst! shoo, tara. nodecontext: shooing away tara like one would a naughty cat.

i already wrote a post about this entire discourse here [x] but to repeat myself once more: all of the dialogue that vaguely addresses the topic of children in any way in regards to gale are these snippets

player: gale… how would you feel about having another person in our relationship? gale: what, like a child? i’m not quite sure i’d consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn’t exactly what i’d call settled…

gale, upon spotting oliver during their game of hide and seek: ah, i have you! just a shame i don’t want you.

gale treating the children the group comes across with respect isn’t an indicator either. this is a courtesy gale extends to everyone he meets. he’s a character that approves of a protagonist who systematically commits good deeds. whether it’s sparing animals, helping without compensation in mind, or aiding children. wanting children to be cared for… and you know… for them not to die is common etiquette that every adult should extend to a child in need. those are not “dad goals!!!” it’s quite literally just basic human decency. gale is genuinely kind and caring to everyone he meets, there is no reason why this also wouldn’t apply to children.

i often see fandom mention his encounter with mol at last light and how excited he is to talk to her. which i think greatly misinterprets the context of the scenario since he didn’t have much of a reaction to mol before either — gale is ecstatic about lanceboard. again evident by his reaction to the party finding the life-sized board during the wyrmway trials, and how he immediately offers to give tav pointers. explaining different approaches to them in enthusiastic detail if they allow him to. the man just really likes lanceboard… as well as being the smartest person in the room.

gale: ah, lanceboard! why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.

gale: lanceboard happens to be a game with which i have more than a passing familiarity. might i offer a suggestion? nodecontext: gale's a badass lanceboard player, anticipating showing off

if you want to headcanon your tav and gale raising a big family together that is more than fine and no one is stopping you. whatever you want to happen to these two after the storyline of the game is up to your respective fantasies. no one is policing you on what you should do with your own character. go wild and create whatever fan content you wish, no justification required.

yet once again, as there is no mention in canon anywhere — neither in the main game nor the epilogue — that this is something gale would ever want (whether that may mean immediately or somewhere down the line) gale wanting to be a father remains a headcanon. while gale being childfree is explicitly shown in the game, in strict comparison to other companions that either have children by the end of the game or voice the desire to (eventually) have them.

my personal preferences are of no relevance here whatsoever. i care about accurate and correct characterization and will point out inconsistencies/false information no matter the topic. i, for one, want to appreciate these characters in the way they're written, not how i ideally want them to be.

[rippersz]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

A Larissa Weems x F!Reader oneshot (for now) - Normie Reader experiences a very sudden heat for whatever reason and oh good lord Larissa is just so hot how can anyone expect you to work under these conditions… (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Shapeshifting Advantages, All that Jazz) (Larissa is just mentioned/imagined in this.) Am I sorry? Meh.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

There was just something in her that lit something in you.

A fire the likes of which you’d never encountered before. As though a flame was constantly flicked on beneath your heart, causing it to race, causing it to pound, causing it to bring the blood from your limbs up to your cheeks; painting you in a deep blush. Making you dizzy. Making you ache. Making you feel a type of delicious never-ending burn that seemed to spark the very moment you saw her.

Her.

Oh, her.

The same woman that made you realize that you wanted to become heavily acquainted with Lust and all of the friendly benefits it could offer. The very catalyst to your panic and your flush and the shake in your hands as you pressed yourself up against the wall of your shower and imagined it was her doing it instead. Oh how her hands would feel… how her touch would mold… how her teeth would graze and nibble and bite and gnash in ways that sent you spiraling. The muscles in her biceps flexing as she interlocked your hands and forced your arms up over your head, holding you to the chilled tile, making you shiver even if the water was hot.

It felt like the word ‘Please’ was on the very tip of your tongue whenever you passed her in the hall. ‘Please,’ you wanted to murmur to her one day, ‘Please, put me out of my misery and ruin me before I explode.’ Because that’s what it felt like, didn’t it? The strange pull in your bones, crawling up through your veins, invading your mind, it felt like you were being stretched taut and that no amount of self-assured pleasure could help release your tormented body. Explosion, at that point then, was imminent. And dangerous. You could barely concentrate on classes; you could barely pay attention to another person; you could barely think about anything other than her fingers… and her tongue… and those deep bottomless sapphire eyes - staring straight into your soul as you fell apart beneath her.

Some part of you told you that you were going through heat. That the very desperate natural human basic need for pleasure was just that - something a person experienced from time to time. Something that werewolves and cats and animals felt whenever that season came around. But you were a ‘normie’. You’d never felt that before… until Larissa Weems, of course. Until you sat down in a staff meeting one day and peered down at her painted nails and long tapered fingers and delicate hands, woven with blue veins and a wicked strength you’d never seen, and wondered what her index and middle finger would taste like when resting on your tongue. The thought still brought redness to your cheeks and drool to the inside of your mouth. It was just so terribly depraved. So desperate. So needy in a way that you wanted her to say- to tell you- to whisper in your ear while you whimpered into the warm skin of her shoulder.

‘Look at you… such a silly little thing… trembling all for me…’

All for you. All for her. All for Larissa, at all times, no matter what.

You knew that people were starting to worry about you and your actions - especially Larissa herself. She was your boss after all, she was supposed to pick up on any behavioral changes, and you had definitely changed. Without even knowing, you became far more introverted and spent more time alone than you ever had before. Though then again, most of that time was dedicated to taking care of the relentless throb between your thighs. Honestly, sometimes it got so strong that it interrupted your entire day and you had to find some way to ease the strange pangs before they got out of hand.

And you’d been doing a good job. Really, you had. You’d been taking the necessary moments to rid yourself of the feeling for at least a few hours before it came back - and that was enough. It was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it began to hurt.

Until you realized that yes, indeed, you were somehow going through heat - and there was no one there to help you with it.

–

‘Good morning Larissa,

I just wanted to email you with a quick update and say that I, unfortunately, have fallen quite ill. I don’t think I’m equipped enough to handle my classes, and I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. Knowing this would get worse, I already printed out lesson plans and activities for my students. They’re all on my desk in my classroom.

Thank you - hopefully I get over this soon.

Y/N’

A quick email. That was good. You didn’t specify timing but that was fine. Your ‘heat’, for lack of a better word, had already been happening for about three weeks. If you were correct in your research, it wouldn’t be too much longer - perhaps a week or so more. Though in the long run, it would be a bigger pain in the ass than you expected. Already, your room smelled of sex and was so stuffy that you had to keep a window open constantly. And to get rid of the scent, you resorted to wall plug-ins and incense; they were the best you could think of on the fly. The rest of the issue - such as the air being far too hot - could only be remedied with a lack of clothing and many cold showers.

You supposed that was the best blessing during your time of strife- having an ensuite all to yourself. Staff were given the option to live on campus or live near Jericho, but you decided that ease of access was more important than living utterly alone. And, another plus that allowed you to let out a sigh of relief from time to time, was the fact that the teacher’s wing was very far from the students’. So any of the werewolves that wandered the halls wouldn’t smell you - as long as you stayed in your room. Thus, the email. And the isolation. And the constant worry that often came as an after-thought during your moments of… reprieve.

Even then, you truly felt you were going mad.

Tears often leaked from the corners of your eyes at night when you twisted around in bed, trying (and failing) to keep your hands from wandering about your body. You’d never experienced the phrase ‘instinctive’ to such an extent until that span of time where your searching fingers tip-tapped their way down the soft skin of your rounded tummy and found themselves drawing circles around your clit without thinking. Because it was all done without thinking. Even thinking was done without thinking.

Most of the time, your head was filled with thoughts of your boss. It was always Larissa. It was always Larissa and it was always her tall figure dwarfing your own, pushing you into a state of submission that you wanted to fall into anyway. She wouldn’t even have to try very hard - she wouldn’t even have to bend you over her lap and spank you red unless you came without her permission and she wouldn’t even- she-

‘Y/N,

I’m very sorry to hear you’ve fallen ill; please don’t worry about your classes as I can provide a substitute immediately. That being said, take as much time as you need to recover. I’ll stop by later today to chat briefly about the form you can fill out for an extended absence. Thank you for letting me know and I sincerely hope you feel better soon.

Larissa W.’

The ping of the email distracted you for a moment.

Good- that was good- your classes would be covered and you were ‘off the hook’. Great. Take as much time as you need mhm mhm… blah blah blah… stop by later today… mh-

Wait.

Wait, what?

You blinked, stared down at the lit up screen of your phone, and then blinked again.

She was… stopping… by? Later? On that day? When the clench in your abdomen was so strong that you were descending into sniffling sobs every two seconds? On that day, when you had just reached the point in which your fingers- the four you managed to fit and utilize- no longer got rid of the ache? On that day, when you were cursing yourself for never buying a fucking sex toy just for the Hell of it?

In your defense, you didn’t think you were ever going to descend into a spontaneous excruciating heat at any point in your life- but it didn’t really matter anyway.

Because whether you liked it or not, Larissa Weems, your boss, the headmistress of the Nevermore Academy for Outcasts, the main event of your wet dreams and sexual fantasies was going to stop by your room for a ‘brief chat’... and you hadn’t been clothed for three days. And your legs were trembling all the time. And the insides of your soft thighs were coated in slick constantly. And your skin was always overheated and sensitive and your voice was hoarse due to the amount of muffled screaming you pressed into the fabric of your pillow and your bed was very much unmade and your room smelled like a 24 hour sex dungeon and the blush on your cheeks had only increased tenfold by the time you sat up in your unmade bed, winced, and let out a whine.

Oh why had the Gods cursed you so?

Why had they placed a hex on your little human body and filled it with a libido that could only match the ferocity of dragons? Why did they force a potion of lust down your throat and place you in front of Larissa Weems and make you look at her with eyes of dark desire? Why did they place the image of her sloping hips and long legs and thick thighs in your mind and poison you with dreams that followed you into the waking world?

Why did you want her so badly?

Why did you yearn for her touch and why did you want her smell enveloping your body and why- oh god why- did you want to kiss her so often? Why did you want her to take care of you? Why did you want her of all people! to take you to bed and make you see stars? Why did you want red lipstick covering your skin and why did you want your face between her thighs and why did you want to feel her come apart beneath you? Why did she drive you wild? Why did she force you into a state of fluster that you could only pull yourself out of when you were alone?

Why did she plague you?

“I can’t do this…,” you suddenly confessed to no one in particular as you let out a sigh.

The fire had dulled to a simmer long enough for you to stand and slowly make your way to the bathroom.

Pain experienced during heat, you came to find, was far different than any other pain. It was like you felt empty - utterly disgustingly empty - and your body hated that. It rebelled. It made your abdomen, your fucking womb, feel hot. And after the heat, it began to ache. Like you were sitting on the edge of an orgasm and you needed that extra push- that extra kiss- that extra lick of praise- to send you tipping off the edge into an ocean of bliss…. But you couldn’t have it. The push, the kiss, the praise wasn’t there. Nor was the thrust of strong hips, or the scratch of fingernails, or the hissed growl of dominance in your ear. None of it. And your body knew that, so it made you clench and unclench constantly; and it punished you for your negligence and made your clit extra sensitive and your nipples hard and eager to be teased and your skin- oh your poor skin- was practically begging for someone to touch it. To mark it. To hold it and squeeze it and bite it and make it theirs.

Make it hers.

Goodness, you were pathetic. The fog that fell over your mind whenever you thought of Larissa was so hypnotizing that once your thoughts got going, they couldn’t stop.

‘Think of her,’ the strange lustful monster within you hissed, ‘Think of her and all of the sinful things she could do to you. Think of her hands pulling your hair, think of her warm thighs straddling your waist, think of her tongue running itself along your neck… and down your chest… and lower and lower… lower… pooling with drool and letting it drip-drop onto your cunt… licking at your clit…’

A whimper slipped past your lips as soon as you stepped into the water of your shower.

The heat was both soothing and torturous, doing you no favors as it instantly glazed the top of your mind; normally you’d prefer to make it cold to put a damper on your libido, but the need to get off yet again overpowered any lingerings of common sense.

But really, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no common sense during ‘heat’. At all. You figured that out rather quickly when, on the fourth day of wanting to be fucked mercilessly, you began entertaining thoughts of breeding. Of course you didn’t want a child. But the thought… the thought… of such warmth in you… filling what was always so painfully empty… of someone- of her- holding you down and breeding you full, growling that you were to be hers forever, was something that had you cumming in under five minutes. You simply couldn’t help it. And ever since that thought, it was as though you crossed into the dark side. All kinds of kinks and experiments filtered into your horny little brain, and all you could do to keep yourself from going crazy was to keep orgasming until your fingers could barely move.

It was the worst experience of your life…

…when you weren’t sitting on the built-in shower stool and thrusting three fingers into yourself, imagining Larissa watching you from beyond the glass. It was terrible except for when you pictured her telling you to go faster, to slow down, to take your fingers out completely and spread your folds wide so she could coo over how cute you looked when your cunt ached for her touch. It was maddening while you weren’t fantasizing about her stepping into the shower with you- all 6 feet, 3 inches of her- and threading her perfect hand in your hair and pressing you to her venus mound and making you kiss it until you came around your own fingers. Then making you stick your tongue out and look up at her as she slowly rolled her hips, coating you in a taste you knew you’d never ever get tired of.

Maybe even… oh god… maybe even shifting that part of herself and surprising you by sliding the head of her cock into your mouth and making you worship her until you forgot your own name. Running your eager tongue along the hot veins… peering up through your eyelashes as she slowly- slowly- craned her head back and let out a deep bone-shaking groan… Unable to help herself as she pushed you down just a bit more, slowly making that ‘pretty mouth of yours’ (as she called it) take as much of her as it could.

“There… yes, right there darling…” You could practically hear her words, as if she were with you, while your eyes rolled back and your other hand came up to rub furiously as your clit.

Unfortunately, even as you sat there and felt the prickling wave of heat wash over your body, clenching tightly around your own fingers while you orgasmed, you knew that it wouldn’t be enough. You knew that the water running down your face was mixed with frustrated tears. You knew that no climax you reached all by yourself would ever be able to properly satiate your body and every thing it was feeling. After all, a ‘normie’ was not supposed to experience ‘heat’ - and your mind was already so close to breaking all by itself.

It was just a shame that Larissa wasn’t there to snap it in half for you.

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This was just a quick exercise - I want to better my smut writing abilities. New updates soon and all that. Any thoughts on a Part 2? - Ripley x

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[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

I’m thinking about the TMA S4 Q&A where Alex asks Jonny “Who knew that Jon liked Martin first, Jon or Martin?” And Jonny answers “Georgie”. I’ve already made my statement on Georgie knowing Jon had feelings for Martin before Jon did. My current thought is that this particular question was one that Alex himself asked Jonny, it wasn’t one of the Q&A questions asked by the audience which means to Alex’s mind there is a world in which Martin knew Jon had feelings for him before Jon even knew. And to be honest that would make so much sense as to why Martin put up with Jon’s shitty behavior towards him for so long and stayed so loyal to him. Like yeah the man definitely has a humiliation/degradation kink or something but also maybe he knew there was something there and just knew he needed to nurture it.

I’m on record saying Jon developed feelings for Martin in season 2 but I also think it is possible that Jon thought Martin was at least very cute upon first laying eyes on him. I think in season 1 Jon tries very hard to be a professional and masked his uncertainty and fear with arrogance and condescension. Ordinarily Jon would think it is unprofessional to talk shit about his assistant on tape even if he doesn’t like him, except that Jon is actively working to not like Martin and the best way to convince yourself of something is to keep saying it out loud. On Martin’s first day in the archives Jon saw this sweet man chasing a dog and first thought ‘Oh no he’s an idiot and I have to be his boss’ but he also thought ‘Oh no he’s cute and I have to be his boss’ so he takes that initial disapproval and dials it up to 10 and just rolls with it to mask and dilute the moment when he thought Martin was a cutie patootie and try to never have that thought again. But we all know that Martin is a lot more perceptive than he lets on and is also a manipulative son of a bitch. Jon is not an amazing liar and maybe Martin saw some part of Jon protesting a little much and thought oh yeah this guy is into me and Martin developed his mild S1 crush. By the time Martin had his first encounter with Jane Prentiss he had let go of the inkling that Jon might like him too and thought Jon actually does hate him but when Jon offers to let Martin stay in the archives to protect him Martin is just kind of like Oh it’s on. So going forward from the moment Jon has Martin move into the archives Martin is flirtier and bolder with Jon.

Through season 2 when Jon is obviously going crazy with paranoia Martin just pushes himself in closer to Jon. First of all he gifts the man the ashes of his enemy as if that’s normal! But also Martin brings Jon tea and hovers around him during lunch and talks to him casually and kindly when nobody else does and makes it Jon’s idea to go to lunch with him even though Jon is supposed to be suspicious of him. He nurtures Jon the way someone would a rescue cat, being kind through the hissing and scratching until you get slow blinks from them and they nervously make sure you’re sitting there to guard them while they eat.

By season 3 when Daisy is interrogating Martin she tells him that everyone she’s spoken to tells her that Jon and Martin are close. Just how did that happen to the extent that any given person at the institute who is asked would say so, at a time when for all intents and purposes Jon was actually pushing away everyone else who knew him? Martin was working hard and he knew what he was doing and he also knew it wasn’t a lost cause. To digress just a moment, when my mom was first dating my stepdad (whom she has now been happily married to for 20 years) he was being kind of noncommittal and on-again-off-again but she would say to me all the time “He loves me he just doesn’t know it yet.” And me being 7 I thought she was crazy but she was right! And honestly in this theoretical world this is exactly how Martin approached things.

All of seasons 3 and 4 for Martin were simple acts of faith, love and loyalty. That charged conversation in MAG 102 that I am OBSESSED with gains quite a lot with the added subtext that Martin has known Jon has feelings for him for a while and now Jon is also starting to realize it too and maybe Martin knows Jon knows! In season 4 when Martin is pushing Jon away with a stick it makes so much sense that he knows Jon has feelings for him because he knows that he has to work hard to keep Jon away. If he thought it was just about Jon wanting information from him he might have approached things differently but he actually took steps to make sure Jon was getting information from him by leaving Jon tapes. He just knew that Jon would pull him too far away from The Lonely which he was now committed to. Like, if your sort of ex-boss sort of friend wants to talk to you sometimes I don’t think that’s going to stop anyone from being lonely but Martin for sure knew by S4 that if he let Jon in, The Lonely plot would be done for. Not only would Peter’s plans be shot because Martin would commit himself to being with Jon and Jon would fully reciprocate but also Peter would definitely take it out on Jon. When Jon pulled Martin from The Lonely I don’t think it would have been enough for Jon to love Martin and also for Martin to love Jon, I think Martin had to know that Jon loved him. So when Martin said that Jon didn’t need him he probably did believe that but he also knew that Jon loves him already so being able to really See Jon just reminded him of what he already knew.

I love this possibility and in fact I now fully do believe that Martin knew Jon loved him back by S4.

[starboykel]

Little Mermaid 🌊🐬 pt 2 !

part 1!

mermaid!reader x sailor!John Price

!!warnings: fluff, none really just super cute :) F!Reader

English isn't my first language! Not proofread, i apologize for any gramatical mistakes

It has been a few weeks since the strange encounter with the mermaid and captain Price hasn't stopped thinking about her since then. Her beautiful tail, who had shine in that moonlight, the cutesy way she spoke... He wasn't being able to get her out of his mind.

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A few months passed. He had lost hopes to find the mermaid again, she was probably too scared to get out of her place again, he tried staying up as long as he could but he was always dragged to bed by his sailors after 2 am...

Price had a mission today, catch some fish. He prepared everything and got on his boat, he wasn't planning on getting some big catch, just some small fishes that he could eat in 2 or 3 days.

He was in a safe distance from land but still a few far into the ocean, the sea was calm and he didn't had any worries...

While waiting for some fish to take the bait, he starts appreciating the landscape... Which was just the sun and water, but it was still beautiful.

After a few moments, he starts noticing a strange movement on the water, it was getting closer and closer and closer... He grabs his gun and points at it but when he sees the familiar color of the mermaid's tail, he immediately puts it back down.

"Y/N?! Is that you?!" He shouts, looking at the water for any sight of you until you emerged from the water, looking at him with curiosity.

You wanted to ask him what he was doing here, in the middle of nowhere, if he was lost but you couldn't figured out how to say it, it was too complicated for you.

He sighs in relief, "I thought you were dead." He says and sits back on the boat, "What brings you here?" He asks, grabbing a cigarette from his backpack and lightening it up.

When you doesn't answer, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, "Did the cat got your tongue?" He asks. You tilts your head, looking at him confused... What's a cat?

"What... What cat?" You asks, trying to sound audible, the strong accent making it almost impossible. Price stares at you for a moment before realizing... You don't know what a cat is. He chuckles, looking at you softer.

"Cat is a domestic animal, a feline. You know what a pet is?" He added, looking at you and taking a puff of the cig. You nods, you've read about dogs before in your books but never cats.

"Well cats are... Like little lions, tigers. They hunt rats, cockroaches, uh... You don't know what any of these are, right?" He explained and then asked and sighed when you nod. He took off his phone from his backpack and showed you a picture of a cat, "that's my cat, his name is Whiskers, my daughter begged for a cat after she went to her friend's house, she takes care of him and such." He spoke, smiling.

Your eyes sparkles, that thing was cute! The cat's orange fur mixed with white was adorable, his big dark eyes and pointy ears were like nothing you saw before. Price chuckles, seeing how amazed you looked, you try reaching for the phone but he flinches, "Nuh uh. You're gonna get it wet." He puts his phone back on the backpack, you looks up at him confused and he smiles, "Don't give me that look... Hey, can you get on the boat?" He asks and gives him hand for you to grab. You grab his hand and he lifts you up like if it was nothing and puts you on the boat, that's when he gets a good look on your body.

Your tail was beautiful, shining in the sunshine, the jointed fingers and the fact you didn't had a belly button, it was weird but fascinating, you were so pretty, the wet hair and how the sun shines in your skin was mesmerizing.

"Oh god, you're so beautiful." He was amazed, he touches your cheek and caresses it, feeling your soft skin and how cute your eyes were, it was nothing like he saw before, big but with sharp pupils, probably to see better on the dark sea, you touches his hand, leaning into it, his touch was so comfortable and warm and your skin was chill, kinda blue.

You then see the fishes in the bucket and looks at it a bit confused, you points at it. He looks at it and smiles, "That's what i do to survive, pretty. I sell fish to feed my little girl." He explained and you nods understanding, your family had a similar business, your father hunts shrimp, crab from the deepest seas, the ones that tasted the weirdest and was still extremely delicious.

"Mine... Dad sells... Hm..." You starts but forgets the word for 'crab' and 'shrips', so you starts mimicking the movements of a crab, which makes Price starts laughing heartily, finding it funny and cute.

"Crab? It's that what you're trying to say?" He calms down a bit and asks and but nods.

"Yes... Crap!" He then laughs again, making you confused. "Crap...funny? Haha... Haha!" That just makes him laugh more at your attempt to laugh with him but clearly confused.

He takes a deep breath, "No, no. Crab, crap is what you say when something goes wrong, you know?" He says after calming down a bit, smiling.

You nods, "You know, you nod a lot, does your head doesn't hurt? You can always say 'i understand', 'got it' or 'yes'. C'mon, say with me 'got it'." He teaches you, "G...goot it...?" You try.

"No, no. Got it. Don't extend the 'o'." He smiles, explains. "Got... It.... Got it!" "Yeah! Like that!" His smile widen and he pats your head.

It was getting late and he had to go back to the beach, where the base was so he ruffles your wet hair, "I have to go, it's getting late and you should go too, it might be dangerous, the sea is full of surprises." He says. You smiles, your sharp fangs surprising him, "bye...bye!" You say before jumping on the water, swimming away on the big ocean.

He sighs happily and starts paddling back to base, he caught a good amount of fish and found the mermaid he was looking for, what a day...

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