#I want Jazz who sees your soul and your mind and you know it and there's nowhere to run
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chaos-bringer-13 · 8 months ago
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I've seen a lot of people writing Danny as a space ancient and Dan and Dani as ghosts with moon and sun cores, being sort of parts, versions of Danny and therefore weaker. Now, consider: Dan and Dani are both powerful ghosts with really cool cores and stuff but Danny is just some guy™
Dan, who came from an alternate timeline and is kind of from the future but also not, is Clockwork's apprentice and will eventually become an ancient of time. He probably only agreed to have some lessons with Clockwork to understand better what happened to him, but he enjoys his apprenticeship now.
Dani, with her love of travelling, loves seeing all the different places the world offers to her, and that includes space and different planets and maybe even parallel universes, and she accidentally ends up being an apprentice of the space ancient. For now she's probably a baby ancient of freedom or something like that, but she might become an ancient of space in the future.
We can also have something like Dan having a core of destruction or Dani being the Speed Force if you want it to be dcxdp, or any headcanon of yours about their cool powers.
And then there's Danny. And yeah, everyone knows that he's super powerful, but also he's just some guy.
It can go different routes. Does everyone know that Danny is just Danny? Or do they think that with siblings (well, technically a clone and an alternate version, but whatever) so powerful, he must be even stronger? Is Danny actually something terrifyingly eldritch and ancient and strong, almost a god, but he just doesn't know himself? Or is he just really some guy?
Now, because it's obvious that I have a dcxdp brainrot, have a regular "JL summons/meets a powerful ghost" but its Dan and Dani, and they keep mentioning their original/brother who won a fight against them at some point. The JL is very concerned about Dan and Dani's godlike powers, and they can't imagine what Danny is like. And then they meet him (in his human form), and it's just a young adult in casual clothes, very friendly and helpful, with no evident powers. Imagine the confusion. Imagine Dan and Dani, radiating power, in their eldritch ghost forms, admitting that fighting Danny for real is the dumbest thing to do and not even they would succeed... And then there's Danny is jeans and silly t-shirt, waving shyly.
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redfoxwritesstuff · 1 month ago
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Not Afraid Of A Little Blood (Human Alastor x Reader)
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CW: Public sex, period sex, vaginal fingering, licking fingers clean Rating: Adult Summary: Out at Mimzy's Speakeasy for a night on the town, Alastor finds himself feeling rather amorous and isn't swayed by your monthly condition or the public nature of the location. You find your will crumbles as he shows he's simply not a man who's afraid of a little blood.
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You loved the nights when Alastor spirited you away from your family home in the late evenings, when you should already be asleep. Your family did not approve of the older man, regulating your relationship to one that existed largely in secret. 
There was no place you wanted to be but in Alastor’s arms. It felt like home. As he flung you around the dance floor, lively jazz running through your blood like electricity, the dull ache of your cramps was easy enough to ignore. 
Alastor’s hands wrapped around your waist, holding you to him as you laughed together, though you didn’t remember the joke. With him, you could forget everything. That was the magic of Alastor. He chased away every worry and demon. 
You hadn’t realized that he was chasing you or that you were fleeing from him until your back hit the wooden wall at the back of the speakeasy. Light struggled to reach the back of the room, but the music had no issue at all. Deep shadows swallowed Alastor as he leaned down, lips sealing over yours in a hungry kiss. 
He tasted you eagerly, pushing into you as he trapped you into the shadows. The scent of tobacco smoke and the earthy scent of the bayou clung to him. Strong hands gripped your hips, clinging to you, greedily running over curves. The ghost of his thumb on the underside of your breast made you gasp.
He took that chance to slip his tongue between your lips, deepening the kiss. The taste of whiskey coated your tongue, filling your senses as you clung to him. Roaming hands ran down your sides, seeking and seeking until he hooked your leg just above the knee. He pulled it up, resting your thigh against his hip. 
Greedy touches took into the feeling of your skin under his hands, roaming and exploring. Your hands slip under his jacket. Strong, lean muscles flex and bunch under your touch as you try to map the landscape that lay hidden under the cotton shirt. 
Fingers went higher and higher, chasing the soft feeling of you. Your back arched, lost in the feeling of being touched by him. 
“Alastor,” you moaned his name, clinging to him as if he would somehow keep you from drowning in the sensation of him,. 
“You’re so soft,” he whispered as his fingers caressed closer and closer to your core. 
“Wait-” The suddenness of your word, clear of the passion and lust froze his hand in place. 
“What is it?” Alastor asked. “No one can see us, I promise.” 
“It’s- It’s not that,” you whispered. “I’m… I’m on my…” 
“Oh,” Alastor said, fingers flexing into the fat of your thigh. “I don’t mind.” 
“What do you…?!” you gasp as his fingers caress higher and higher along your inner thigh, fingers finding the place where the pad was held against your body. “Alastor!” 
“I’m not afraid of a little blood,” Alastor’s voice was a warm purr as he ran his fingertip along the side of your folds. “Did you know it can make a lady’s monthly pains ease, if she’s had pleasure?”
“What?” your voice wavered, coming weak as he reached pushed the pad to the side, making use of what little slack the belt that held it in place allowed. It was a thinner pad, being early in your cycle yet, and it easily folded in on itself as he forced it to the side. 
“Let me ensure you’ve got no reason to be feeling any pains?” Alastor asked, though the question sounded far from a request. 
It sounded like he knew you’d agree. In truth, you struggled to deny Alastor anything at all. He owned your heart and soul. What harm was there in giving him your body, too?
“We can’t,” you whispered even as you ran your leg higher up his hip, opening yourself up to his hand just a little more. 
“We can,” he whispered in your ear, tongue sliding out from between his lips and running along the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”
Lips worked their way down your neck, leaving a trail of stinging nips soothed by soft kisses. “I do,” you said, struggling to breathe. 
Alastor wasted no time letting his fingers slip between your folds. You gasped as his fingers ran along your slit, circling over your clit. He repeated the motion again and again as your back arched, pushing your breasts into him. The dampness left from your cycle’s bleeding was quickly replaced with the slippery slick that spoke clearly of your arousal. 
“You’re so responsive,” Alastor groaned in your ear as his finger worked into your tight hole.
The moan that fell from your lips was rich but unfortunately loud, leaving Alastor the choice to either withdraw his finger from you or silence you somehow. Without any hesitation, Alastor kissed you deeply as he pushed a second finger into you, swallowing the hot sound of your desire. 
Again and again he stroked you from the inside, drawing pleasure you hardly could understand from you. The flat of his palm worked over your clit with each thrust of his hand, sparking more sensations. 
“Alastor,” you whimpered as he took control of your body.
“You sound so pretty,” he groaned as his hips flexed, pushing his hand harder into you. “I need you, cher.” 
Fingers left your core, leaving you feeling empty. It was a challenge to think too deeply about that with the way his lips moved over your skin. Soon, that feeling was gone too, leaving you no choice but to blink your eyes open. 
Alastor’s hand lingered in front of your face, fingers shiny with the slick he had worked up from within your body. Unlike all the other times he had helped himself to the warmth of your core, you could see the dark smears and streaks, thicker in some places than others, that told you your blood coated his fingers. 
“I am so sor—” your eyes went wide as Alastor brought his fingers to his lips. 
The sight of his shiny tongue slipping from between his lips stopped the flow of your words. Greedily, he ran his tongue over each digit. Each pass of his tongue was a curling caress you couldn’t look away from. 
Shamelessly, he licked his fingers clean. He seemed not bothered in the slightest by the bloody tinge to the slick. Surely he could taste it, couldn’t he? 
“You taste as good as ever,” Alastor mumbled as he pulled his fingers from his lips,
It was only then that you realized he wasn’t touching you in that moment. Just as you realized that, he was touching you again in a whole new way. 
The velvety soft skin of his cock ran up and down your slit, pushed out through the fly of his pants. You hadn’t noticed the sound of him undoing his pants, let alone the shifting he would have had to have done to free himself, too entrapped by the sight of him licking his fingers free of your bloody slick.
The music changed as the band ended one song and picked up another, reminding you that you were very much in public. 
“Alastor, put that away,” you hissed. “Someone will see.” 
“They’ll think we’re young lovers necking in the back,” he insisted, voice thick with desire. “I need to be inside of you.” 
“I’m on my cycle,” 
He cut you off. “I don’t care. I need you, need to be inside you so bad.” 
“We’re in public.” The head of his cock nudged your sensitive clit, pulling a needy whine from your throat. Alluring kisses peppered your jaw, working along your neck as he teased you. 
The touches of his cock against your folds were just light enough that he could say they were innocent, that he wasn’t trying to wear your resolve down. He just hadn’t gotten around to tucking himself away and as a result, as he kissed you, he slipped between your slick folds. Each innocent nudge and caress of his cock coated him in more bloody slick. 
You moaned into his neck as he pushed forward, the shaft of his cock running through your slick folds. Fingers dug into your thigh as he hiked your thigh up again, using you as a shield against prying eyes. 
“Alastor.” This time, his name left your lips not in protest but in a wanton moan that brought a smile to the lips that kissed your neck. 
“You want me?” he whispered, lips kissing the collum of your neck as he spoke. 
“I do,” you whined as his large hand slid forward, cupping your breasts through your beaded dress. “Fuck, Alastor. We’re going to get in so much trouble.” 
“We won’t get caught,” Alastor reached between your bodies, grabbing his shaft with one hand and lifting your hips with the other, pulling you slightly off your freet. 
The tip of his cock ran along your folds as you wrapped your leg around his, ankle resting on his calf. The delicious stretch of his cock pushing into you was all-encompassing. It was a battle to hold your head up, a battle you lost. 
Alastor’s wet tongue ran up your exposed neck, tracing the line of muscles as he inched deeper and deeper inside you. The vibration of your soft moan was the greatest treat, felt but unheard as he slowly bottomed out. 
“Hold on to me,” Alastor directed, hand digging into your thigh as he wrapped his other arm around the small of your back. 
You did as he said, running fingers through the fluffy brown hair that was oh so close to curly that topped his head. He changed the angle of your hips, letting you sink deeper down his cock before he pulled out. Your weight was nothing to him as he held you in place. 
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Alastor said thickly, looking down at his cock, a bridge between your body and his in the dim room. Light reflected off of his slick covered shaft, ribbons of red covering him. “So beautiful painting me red,” Alastor said, sinking slowly into you again. 
The pace was slow, more of a rocking of his hips as he stirred your insides with his cock. Deep gasping huffs of air passed between you as flushed face met flushed face. You could drown in the deep wells of love and affection you saw reflected within Alastor’s eyes. 
The feeling of his cock in you was addicting. Nothing ever made you feel as full as he did. His large hands kept you grounded as he slowly worked his length out of you only to slide right back home in one easy thrust. 
Alastor had to swallow, working to keep his throat open and wheezing breath from becoming a rich moan. Your eyes watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. It was daring you to lean forward and put your lips against it. Who were you to back down from a dare?
The salty taste of his skin coated your tongue as you placed open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin. The ghost of stubble scraped at your lips as you worked up his jaw, muffling your moans as he slowly thrust into you again and again. 
“Cher,” he groaned as you nipped at his neck, just under his jaw. “So warm.”
“So big,” you whispered back, tongue tasting the sweat that formed on his skin. “You’re so big.” 
His thrusts picked up pace, no longer the subtle rocking of hips as he worked in and out of you. The sound of the music covered the soft tump of your lower back hitting the wall he held you against. Breaths turned to airy moans as he fucked into you harder, faster. Each thrust bullied through your walls, the head of his cock reaching every part of you. 
“Feel so good,” Alastor whispered in your ear, resting his head against the wall behind you. “You’re made for me.” 
“Please, Al- I’m so close.” You buried your head in the crook of his neck, clinging to him. Nails dug into the muscles of his back, feeling each flex of his shoulders as he fucked into you faster and faster. 
“Can you-” he gasped as your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock. “Can you be quiet for me?” 
“Please, Alastor,” you whined, so close. The coil in your core wound tight and threatening to snap. “Please.” 
“You have to mind your voice,” he groaned as your walls fluttered, so close to your peak and threatening to pull him along with you. “If you want to finish, I need you to be quiet.” 
“I’ll try,” you whispered, making a promise both you and Alastor knew was a lost cause. 
It was too late for him to stop, anyway. Each thrust had you clenching and fluttering, walls pulling at him lightly as he worked his way in and out. He was chasing his own release now, pushing you closer and closer to yours. He watched as your body went ridged, only movement being the gasping breaths in your chest and your walls clamping down on him. 
Leaning forward, he sealed his mouth over yours as your body twitched and convulse. The coil within you had snapped, taking your control and resolve with it. Deep moans and high-pitched whines bubbled up from your chest as he fucked you through your orgasm, his own hot in its heels. 
Alastor swallowed every sound as his tongue worked into your mouth, caressing and exploring everything he could reach as his thrusts turned sloppy. It was his turn to moan deeply, letting you swallow the sound as he swelled and twitched. Hot white ropes of his seed shot into you, splashing your cervix and painting your walls as he rutted into you. 
His body stilled as his cock twitched against your sensitive walls. Neither of you were sure where one began and the other ended as you clung to eachother. Even as deep breaths mingled, he continued to kiss you deeply for a few moments longer before pulling away. 
“I love you,” he whispered his secret confession as his cock slipped from your hole. 
“I love you, too,” you answered, numb legs finding the ground as he let you down. You watched as he tucked himself back into his pants, zipping his fly. That did nothing to hide the smears of slick on the front of his pants. 
“You should go clean up,” Alastor said, leaning forward to straighten the skirt of your dress as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. 
You nodded, walking on trembling legs. Over your shoulder, you watched Alastor pull his shirt from his pants, letting the fabric fall over his hips. Such a thing would look sloppy, something that would drive your lover mad, but it was better than wearing the mark of your bloody slick. 
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angelicpoison12 · 7 months ago
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first kiss ღ
Alastor finds out you’ve never been kissed.
MFA, SFW, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF
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Alastor was an odd fellow. Not in a bad way-he was just.. Strange, to say the least.
— ☆ —
He was constantly cooped up in his room, listening to jazz, or doing his little radio broadcasts. I knew better to not be a little vermin towards him. I mean, Alastor had a fuckton of power, who wouldn’t be scared of him? I stayed away from Alastor. His smile kind of freaked me out. He was never mean to me, but I still had my guard up out of reflex. Whenever I interacted with him, it was short, tasteless small talk. I think we could both tell that we wanted more from each other-to have a bond at least-but fear held us back like floodwater gates.
We both wanted more.
I was sitting in the lobby, scrolling on my phone. I felt the couch dip, weight being added. I looked up, squeaking when I saw Alastor right next to me. His grin was still wide like usual, but it seemed strained? His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that frightened me. Yet his gaze also intoxicated me. It made me want more. That stupid longing ached in my chest, and I wanted nothing more than to snuggle him, feel him, to… Love him. Alastor looked at me, cocking his head to the side. “Y/N?”My eyes shot up. He must’ve been calling out to me for a while. “Oh-I’m sorry, Alastor.. I got lost in my thoughts,” I said with a nervous chuckle, my cheeks dusted with a soft blush. Alastor let out a soft, cackle-filled laugh. “Oh, no need to apologize, dear! Now, what is it that’s on your mind? You were staring a lot.” My eyes widened further, embarrassment washing over my face like a tsunami wave. Was I staring at him? Was I staring at the wall? What did he mean when he said I was ‘staring’?! God, he was so fucking confusing!
“Y/N? You’re staring again, dear.” I heard Alastor say. Fuck.
I swallowed, sighing. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Alastor.. It’s just-“ “You’re attracted to me, Y/N.” “What-?!” My voice was a soft shriek. Alastor’s grin widened scarily. I didn’t even know the fucker could smile wider than he already was able to. I squirmed under his gaze. I felt like a tiny rat under the paw of a tomcat. Alastor chuckled darkly, his irises practically glowing. “My dear, it’s quite clear.. Your eyes shimmer when you gaze at me. It’s not the usual, frightened stare I get around here, no. It’s one of curiosity. As if you’re a lost soul, wandering without a shepherd. Is that right, dear?” My head slowly turned upwards towards Alastor. My face was bright with a blush, and I was shaking. He’d gotten my emotions right. More accurate than even I could get them.
Maybe I wasn’t scared of Alastor. Maybe I was just, without a doubt, in love with him. He patted my shoulder, kindly saying, “Give it some thought, Y/N. You know where my room is if you need me.”
And just as sudden as he’d appeared, he was gone in the blink of an eye. I didn’t know what the fuck just happened, but I knew I wanted to explore it further. And I wanted my exploration to be with Alastor.
— ✩ —
I found myself at Alastor’s door not even twenty-four hours later.
What the hell was I thinking? Just a little bit ago, I was scared out of my mind to even look at him. Now I was yearning for him. It was as if a gravitational pull was curling itself around my heart, forcing me towards the darkest pits of Hell, where there was no return or exit. I was willing to take the path. I wanted to know if Alastor truly wanted to help me, or just make another searing deal to a weak victim such as myself.
Alastor seemed delighted to see me in his room. He was eating a few slabs of grayish meat. I didn’t ask about it; I kinda wanted to keep down my dinner, thank you very much. Then, after some meaningless small talk, I managed to choke out,
“Al.. Kiss me.”
I heard Alastor’s internal freak out. It sounded like a record had been scratched. He fully turned to look at me, sitting across from him at his desk. In a soft voice, he asked, “Y/N, are you sure? This isn’t some.. Mania, is it?” “No-! No, it’s not!” I choked, sighing shakily. “I’m just confused right now, okay..? I don’t know what to do about my feelings, or how to move forward with them-“
Before I could even finish, his hands had cupped my cheeks, claws oddly warm as his lips brushed against mine.
The kiss wasn’t dirty at all. It was soft and kind; nearly chaste with hints of reassurance hidden throughout his coldish lips.
When we pulled away from each other, my heart was beating rapidly, I could feel blood in my ears, and my cheeks were flushed. Alastor grinned wickedly, and holding his cane, he purred, “Not confused anymore, dear?” All I could do was nod, whimpering out, “Yeah.. I think so.”
I should’ve told Alastor how ‘unsure’ I was ages ago.
— ✩ —
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coquettetoji · 1 year ago
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{💌} ARMIN ARLERT MOODBOARD
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★ general armin hcs ★
— sweetest soul who is 100% down to earth, will scold you for not recycling your fork into the correct trash can and will pick up plastic / any trash on the ground
— nerdy golden retriever boy, and is the biggest people pleaser
— played hockey growing up and in college, he’s a right winger
— reads a shit ton of books, will press pretty and colorful flowers he finds outside into the book spine to save it
— is academically and naturally smart, gpa is a strong 4.2, majors in business, economics, or biology, some smart shit like that ( will grow up to be that hot rich dad every single mom wants )
— SLEEPER BUILD 🗣️🗣️AND A V LINE🗣️🗣️
— hands are big but they’re like bony and soft, he also plays piano so he’s good with his hands *moan*
— his most used app is spotify, google classroom, and messages
— lana del rey coded. i will argue with anyone who thinks otherwise.
— listens to cigarettes after sex, clairo, and this one random 63 hour playlist called ‘band cafe soft jazz music’
— speaking of cigarettes, armin also smokes cigarettes (ik i’m sorry) but this guy is a student athlete, ofc he’s gonna have to de-stress somehow
— drives the newest model of a white range rover with beige interior
— 6’1 teddy bear with attachment issues
— speaks french fluently
— so so so soft spoken like you will never see him yelling at another person, even when he’s frustrated
— also doesn’t like cursing, will give someone a quick glance if they cuss but won’t mind it
— has a gold chain around his neck, yes the slutty kind
— came from old money 🤭🤑, he dresses like it too i’m talking quarter zips, sweaters, khakis, and neutral colors, wears his gold thin wire framed glasses occasionally
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— knows all girl shit bc of his little sister (who he adores) he learned how to take care of her so he’s really reliable when it comes to treating girls right
— his phone case is the apple silicone one that’s cream color, keeps one of his credit cards in the case behind his phone
— phone screen is him and his puppy ( spot the difference game for everyone 👍 )
— every woman he knows or did a favor for all say “his mother raised him right”
— the most organized person ever, his whole pantry would labeled and organized like khloe kardashian’s
— eren and armin are 100% that black cat golden retriever duo, take a wild guess on who is which lol
— 2 deep dimples on his cheeks that pop out when he smiles, also has light freckles dusted on his nose n around it, has the straightest whitest teeth + an adorable smile **he’s so grateful for braces existing
— overall the most genuine human out there, no detection of fuck boy here 😁😁😁
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{💌} new message from mica
armin is actually my baby i love him so much i need me a soft spoken tall nerdy blonde white boy in my life now
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h0ney-mochi · 2 years ago
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a little kunikuzushi brainrot from the anon who sent the kissing scara ask ...... i just NEED someone to talk to about this ughh
okay. he's, of course, innocent as ever, so this one time when he comes across a ✨spicy✨ moment in some book he'd been reading, kuni doesn't understand what's happening in that scene. so he comes to you for help!
when he asks about it, you chuckle awkwardly and try to avoid explaining it to him, but kuni's eager to learn and doesn't want to give up easily. he's so cute omg
my brain has a limit, so what would you do?
(also, you seem like a pretty cool person! can i be 🧋 anon?)
Kunikuzushi x reader ;; readers pronouns not mentioned
SUGGESTIVE CONTENT (it's mainly sfw, but at the end it gets a little suggestive)
Summary: Kunikuzushi spends some of his time reading. His pure, innocent self comes across a.. scene, which he doesn't really understand, but from the sentences it's good..? So he comes to you, asking for your help on it. How could you deny him when he's so eager to know..?
A/n: WELCOME 🧋 ANON <33 Thank u sm for the ask!! I like to think I'm pretty alright :)) I don't think I wrote this well ahh.... 🙌
This made me think, a little hard to write on the explaining, so that part is a little messy.. but ahhh, explaining to lil innocent kuni what the scene is... his flushed reaction... aah~ the possibilities?!
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Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!
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You're just relaxing in your room, writing some things down on a small paper. That's when you heard footsteps and the door open. You turn around and see that it's Kunikuzushi. You noticed that he had a book in hand. You greet him, asking what brings him to you, while you go back to your paper.
He walks next to you and sits down on the chair next to the desk. "Well I- there's this scene in the book and I don't understand.. it..?" He quickly opens up the book again and you put your pen down. Kuni shows you and you take it in your hands, reading. It takes you a moment to realize you're reading one of those spicy scenes. You stop reading as you widen your eyes, looking at him, back at the words and then back at him.
You put the book back in front of him, awkwardly laughing. "Well, that's- It's not really important, so you can just continue in the book," you say, smiling slightly at him, "It's not the the end, is it?" He nods, but continues to speak, "Well, yeah, but I want to know. She describes it as-" "I very well read what she described it as, Kuni," you chuckle, tapping your fingers against the desk, "But it's something you can learn later in life, you know-?"
"Why can't you just tell me?" He stares with a confused look, "Is it really that bad? The author certainly doesn't write it like that-" You let out a sigh, thinking, staring at the book. He leans down to meet your gaze, "Please?" You look at him. Is it really worth telling this pure soul what he just read? Well, his curiosity is adorable.. Oh dear. He won't back away that easily, so might as well just get over it, no?
"Alright, um," you start, clearing your throat, "Give me the book again." Kuni gives it to you and you head to the page. You read through the start of the scene and then a bit after, quickly grasping on what exactly you're about to explain to him. You're not sure if he genuinely does not know anything or maybe he knows something, just a little.. you hope he does, would ease your mind..
You start speaking, asking 'simple' questions first, such as how much does he know about anything related, and all that jazz. You're regretting everything as you're proven again that no, he does not know.
And so you explain. Bit by bit, you try your best to tell him that yes, that's seggs, and yes, a man has his dick inside a woman in the scene. And yes that they both receive pleasure. You tried your best, yet you had no idea what the fuck were you trying to say. But the more you tried to explain, the more you noticed his face getting hotter. He asks questions, you answer them.
At some point you shut up completely, seeing Kunikuzushi put his hands on his face for a moment. "Are you okay?? I know this is a very awkward topic, I don't know if I'm even telling you something," you chuckle a little. He takes his hands away and swallows. Kuni looks back at you, shifting in his seat, "..And how do they- how does that feel?" You blink. Thinking for a moment, you respond, "Well, it usually feels good, the author wrote it as.. well, we both read it."
"Have you done it?" His gaze is unfocused. You shake your head, "No, but I've read of it, maybe seen it, and few of my friends speak of it." It's silent, Kuni being lost in thought. Then he whispers an "Could we try it?" Your eyes widen at that. He looks at you with a pleading look, "Pleaase? I want to know how that is.." "Kuni, this is something you should really think about first-" You quickly respond, but he interrupts you.
"Please?"
..You can't say no to that, can you?
So with few more sentences, and him being eager to have you show him, you and him were on the bed. Your hand held his face as you told him how to kiss, Kuni immediately pressing his lips against yours when you stop talking.
Then you had him part his lips, so you could show him more how a kiss can be. Your hand on his cheeks, the other at his waist. In between kisses, he's telling you how he's feeling weirder and hotter. Each of your soft touch on his body was making him shudder and make noise in your mouth.
"Are you sure?" You ask again, hand tracing his arm. He nods quickly, "Yes, yes, please." So you continued. You laid down while telling Kuni what to do, telling him that yes, you can touch that, yeah you can touch that as well. It seemed like he couldn't focus though, too much information, too much of your touch, your words, you. His hands were a little shaky, he was flushed and his eyes always went from your eyes to your body. After a moment, he just mumbled out an 'It's too much..'
You nodded, saying it's completely fine. You understand. You laid him down and got on top, indulging him another kiss. His hands went on your shoulders, moaning in the kiss when your hand trailed down his stomach. Kuni pulls away, bucking his hips, "Lower.. please, touch me-" So you did. And his head falls back as a whine comes through. You press a kiss to his cheek, "I'll show you what they did, alright?"
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roxxie-wolf · 7 months ago
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𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒
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Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.
Word Count: 790
Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20’s, Alastor is in his early 30’s, you still live with your parents idk.
Note: Im not sure how this chapter turn out, but I still hope you guys like it. <3
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𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟤
As you walked through the busy streets of New Orleans, the scent of beignets and coffee filled the air, tempting your senses. The sound of jazz music played in the background, adding to the lively atmosphere of the city. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and wonder as you took in the sights and sounds around you.
Standing outside a quaint cafe, you observed the hustle and bustle, watching as people hurriedly passed by. Your gaze swept over the diverse crowd, until your eyes landed on a handsome man who stood out from the rest. He had an air of mystery about him, and you couldn't help but be drawn to him.
A smile spread across his face as he locked eyes with you. You looked away, a blush creeping onto your cheeks, before retreating back into the cafe you had been standing in front of.
After a few minutes you reappeared, walking out of the cafe and heading in the direction of your home, not noticing someone was following you. When out of nowhere a man suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
"Hello, darling," his voice smooth and charming as he extended his hand towards you. You looked up at the man, your eyes widened with surprise as you took in his handsome features and piercing honey brown eyes. He towered over you, his muscular yet slim frame exuding strength. This was the same man that smiled at you not to long ago. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively placing your hand in his.
The man raised your hand to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. "Hello," your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, feeling a strange connection with him.
As the man leaned down to your eye level, still holding your hand in his, you looked into his eyes. Your own filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. You felt a pull towards him, as if he held the key to unlocking a part of yourself that had long been dormant.
“If I may know, what is your name dear?”
“Y/N”
You replied almost instinctively, the name slipping from your lips before you could catch it. Your hand flew to your mouth, a barrier against further unguarded moments. You chastised yourself silently; you had to be cautious, yet here you were, disarmed by a stranger's gaze.
He let out a chuckle seeing how quickly you covered your mouth. Introducing himself as Alastor, you felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over you. His voice was soothing, and his gaze seemed to pierce through your very soul. You couldn't quite place it, but there was something about him that drew you in.
"Alastor.”
You whispered under your breath, the name rolling off your tongue with an ease that surprised you. The sense of familiarity persisted, a nagging feeling at the back of your mind that you had heard his name before.
"What brings you out here darling?" Alastors voice brought you back from your own thoughts. You look at this handsome stranger standing before you, his piercing gaze making your heart skip a beat. "I was actually heading home, that is until you stopped me of course," you smiled feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Oh, my apologies dear," he stepped aside with a polite smile.
"May I walk you home?"
You hesitated for a moment, but the thought of having his company and protection was too tempting to resist. "Yes, I would appreciate that," a shy smile playing on your lips.
He put his arm out for you to take, and you did. Alastor walked beside you as you continued down the crowded streets of New Orleans. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself completely enthralled by him.
You couldn't help but feel a sense of safety and comfort with him by your side, his presence calming your nerves and easing your fears. You didn’t understand why you felt the way you did considering you just met him, but there was something about him.
As you reached your doorstep, you turned to bid Alastor farewell. But before you could say anything, he reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair away from your face. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his hand.
"Thank you for walking me home.”
"It was my pleasure, until we meet again, my dear.”
You watched him walk back the path you two came from, his figure slowly fading into the distance until he disappeared from your view. Leaving you with a sense of longing and a heart full of curiosity.
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🌸𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈🌸 🌸𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉🌸
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^ I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.
Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.
Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖
TAGLIST: @magictoebean
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jjksblackgf · 1 year ago
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too daring for you? | knj (m)
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pairing — kim namjoon x reader summary — Namjoon can't keep your roleplaying idea off his head, so he'll make sure to surprise you with it when you least expect it. genre — smut, pwp rate — 18+ word count — 1.9k warnings — explicit sexual content, role playing, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, teabagging, manhandling, light degradation, cum eating.
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Perfume, check.
Leather jacket, check.
Favorite watch, check.
Tonight, Namjoon was a different man. His night would not be the same as the others. No more boring date nights inside his apartment. Today he’ll go to a nice bar, where you’ll be expecting him. But what you’re not accounting for is his intentions.
Today he’s fulfilling a fantasy. One he’s been intrigued by since you’ve mentioned it. But to pull it off, he has to be his best confident self. Be in his A game and catch you by surprise.
Checking himself in the mirror and everything looks fine, appropriate. Except his expression. He’s not ready for this. He can only think of your request to spice things up. He didn’t know they needed spicing up in the first place.
“I’m living my greatest fantasy right now,” he remembered saying. You two were cuddling in his bed after sex. You were cozied up to his chest, and he ran the tip of his fingers through your naked spine. He was almost purring.
“Cuddling?” you asked, sounding surprised.
“Intimacy,” he answered, giggling at your amazed expression.
“Really?” you checked. “But I can’t say I’m that surprised. You’re always so… intense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t really think we have sex per se, I see it as passionate love making. You’re fully committed to it.”
“And you’re not?” he asked. Your last sentence had his alarm bells turned on.
“Of course I am, love. Don’t get me wrong.” you shifted in bed, supporting your weight in one elbow to look at his face. “And I love that you’re passionate, and that you’re into all sorts of intimacy.”
“But?” he pressed, trying to stay calm.
“But… I, personally, wouldn’t categorize intimacy as a fantasy. I swear I’m not judging you.”
“Okay…”
“Are you mad?” you asked, and he watched as your brows furrowed in concern.
“What do you consider a fantasy?” he asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. You just stayed in silence and studied his face, your brows still furrowed. “I’m not mad,” he clarified, making sure his voice sounded calm enough. 
He was telling the truth. Mad was not the correct word to describe his feelings. He was a little worried that he wasn’t satisfying you, so he was worried. He wanted you all to himself — soul and body, especially body — and he wanted you to moan how much you belonged to him, so he was possessive. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of another man finding the weak spots he worked so hard to build, so he was jealous. But mad wasn’t one of them.
You sighed, taking him out of his musings, and you answered sheepishly. “I like roleplaying,” you whispered. He hummed in acknowledgment and changed the subject.
But that night still ran through his mind every time you had sex, and in the ride to that bar he replayed that scene over and over again. He had to know what you were like, who you were, when you didn’t want to be yourself.
That was enough to give him back his confidence in his idea. His curiosity got him into this mess, and it was that same itch that would get him through it. 
The slick wood arches over the bar were the first thing to catch his eyes when he entered. The low light above the tables and booths complimented nicely with the black leather chairs. The live band wasn’t half bad with the smooth jazz. 
The atmosphere was sexy. He picked right.
He sat on a bar stool and asked for his favorite drink.
“A manhattan for me, please,” he heard a familiar voice say, and he turned around to fall in love with you all over again. 
Your smile was big when you looked at his face, and you opened your mouth to start talking, but Namjoon was set on making this night special from beginning to end. After all, he didn’t let you in on his plans for a reason. He wanted to see the desire and lust in your eyes when you realized his idea. Another thing he was curious about. 
“Hello, stranger,” he started, offering his hand. When you accepted it, he took it to his lips, planting a sweet kiss there. “I must be pretty lucky to have such a beautiful face sit right next to me.” 
“Thank you…” you said. Your tone of voice gave away your confusion, bending at the end, making it sound like a question. Namjoon guessed you were trying to understand his strange behavior.
“Does your pretty face come with a name?” he continued. He was amused by the many emotions running through your face, but he hadn’t quite reached the one he wanted to see the most yet.
“What?” you asked.
“Oh, no worries. I don’t mind a little mystery.” he leaned towards you and took a sip of his drink. “My name is Namjoon by the way. I hope I get to know you better this evening, angel.”
Jackpot. 
Your face lit up with understanding, and a sly smile adorned your face.
“You sound intriguing, Namjoon.”
“I could say the same thing about you.” he winked and was pleased when you bit your bottom lip. He made sure the bartender knew he’d pay for the drinks and made a move to leave. “I must leave now. But if you want to have the time of your life, here’s where to find me,” he said. 
He handed you a card with the name of a club and some cash for the Uber. “I’ll be waiting for you, angel. I know you won’t disappoint me.” he said, leaning closer to your face and inhaling the scent of your perfume. “Your name is on the list,” he whispered to your ear, before planting another kiss to your earlobe.
Arriving at the club was easy enough. The waiting for you to show up was almost a torture device. 
Did he do it right? Did you feel controlled, like he was dominating your decisions? Were you turned on by the idea? At the end, after he handed you the card, was the glint in your eyes just residue from the surprise? Or did you feel your stomach flutter, much like his own heart was beating out of his chest?
The possibilities were endless.
But it was like you had a neon sign pointed directly at you. He could see your face as you looked for him in the crowd. He took a sip of his drink. Should he go after you, or should he let you find him? He twitched in his seat, his leg bouncing. He must do something. 
But alas, there you were.
Eyes still filled with fascination. Your lips parted as you two made eye contact, and Namjoon watched you in awe. Shoulders back, and hips moving side to side, inviting him to glare, to stare, to inappropriately lick his lips. He watched every second of your hands as they ran through your body, touching all the places he knew you liked to be kissed. Your neck, your navel, the curve of your hips.
Dancing for him. A show just for him. Other people get to watch and envy him. But he’s the only one that can touch.
Intimacy be damned. He liked this fantasy better.
You curled your fingers, inviting him to dance. He didn’t have to think twice. 
He didn’t recognize himself. The Namjoon of yesterday wouldn’t do such a thing. Too timid to dance like this in public. To grab his partner by the waist and ogle at his favorite body parts. But you changed him. Reached his genetic makeup and twisted it to your liking.
He liked it too.
He didn’t last more than a song underneath your touch. Your hands ran upwards through his body, but before they could reach his neck and fist his hair, Namjoon was already kissing you. It was urgent, it was inappropriate, it was too damn sexual. He was sure he’d leave the club with a boner.
His tongue unceremoniously intertwined with yours, and his hands grabbed your ass with fervor. You weren’t so cute either. Namjoon remembered you were in a public setting when your hands reached the front of his pants.
He stopped your search, holding your wrists behind your back. 
“Not here, angel,” he said, panting.
���I know where,” you offered, twisting your wrists so you’d be hauling him around the club.
You reached the bathrooms, and you shoved him inside before a line could form behind you. Before he could ask about your intentions, you pushed him against the wall, kissing him again. He allowed himself to go further, biting your neck and leveraging his position to grind his groin against your abdomen.
“Fuck, I can’t take this,” you said, dropping to your knees and opening his zipper. 
His cock was already hard when you wrapped your mouth around him. He moaned your name repeatedly as you massaged his length in synchronicity with your lips. He moaned even louder when his tip reached the back of your throat. Your gag reflex made your throat even tighter, and he wanted to scream your name.
But of course you had to surprise him, using his length to slap your face and tongue, and putting pressure around his base. And that was enough for him to be overwhelmed by his instincts. He grabbed a chunk of your hair with one hand and secured your jaw open with the other, inserting himself in and out as he pleased.
He thrusted his hips once more, as far as your mouth would allow. He wanted to feel your throat closing around his tip again. He only let you up for air after you tapped his thigh. But he wasn’t done being rough. The trail of saliva left between his dick and your tongue inspired him even further. 
“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his voice almost an octave lower, and you obliged with a smile. He spit on your tongue before placing his testicles inside your mouth. Between the warmth of your tongue and his agile hands, he was close. “Fuck,” he moaned, inserting his dick in your mouth one last time before climax overpowered him. “I want to see you swallow it,” he asserted, already adjusting his pants.
You did as he asked and opened your mouth showing your tongue to prove it. Your smile was as big as he’d ever seen. If he knew you’d be this wild, he wouldn’t have been so reluctant to comply with your wishes.
“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath and helping you get to your feet.
Before you could say anything, or even better, go home to finish the night, there was a banging on the bathroom door.
When Namjoon opened it, he was met with a security guard, followed by an irritated manager.
“Oh, goody,” the manager said, taking a look around Namjoon to find you hiding behind him.
“Would you two please step aside? The bathroom is off limits from certain activities. I’m gonna have to escort you out of the premises.”
“Sure, that’s no problem.” Namjoon didn’t turn around to look at you. He just squeezed your hand as you two walked out of the club, but he knew your whole body was burning from embarrassment. “Well, there’s a story to tell our grandkids,” he joked once you two were on a cab headed home.
“If you tell them any of this, I will slowly poison you,” you threatened. “But I do need to tell them how amazing you are in all aspects,” you gushed, hugging his neck. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Anytime, angel.”
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sqyyadina · 3 months ago
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nothing's gonna hurt you, baby.
Pairing: Rose the Hat X Reader
Word Count: 4k
Tags: smut, oral (r. recieving), blood kink, reader has magic!
Summary: A distant voice fills your mind, you go and find it.
Author’s Note: I read somewhere that book!Rose has a deep fascination with blood, I tried to add it a bit here! This is also on my AO3!
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“You’re a special little thing, aren’t you?”
The voice comes from all around you. The teasing words swim through your brain, creating a mist between your ears that you can’t shake. It may be the whiskey that’s making your vision go blurry, but seeing as you haven’t even finished half of your share, you’re close to believing that you’ve become drunk on that voice.
“The special ones always taste the best.”
You lift your nose from the glass you’ve been nursing for far too long, now uninterested in the drink entirely but too shameful to return it to the bartender. Drinks come rarely, dangerously, now, yet are completely necessary to keep your mind, your power, at bay.
“Come and find me.”
She’s going to make you work for it.
You haven’t done the workin quite some time. You’re lucky enough to not remember the last time it happened. You’re not entirely sure how it happens. All you can hope is that your longing to put a face to this mystery voice will jumpstart your brain into action.
You shut your eyes, focusing on the smooth jazz humming from the quartet in the far corner of the speakeasy. Their faces begin to fill in behind their instruments, blue eyes and suit jackets blurry, yet still enough to form a picture in your mind’s eye. Then come the bodies of slow dancers, a few women clad in fringe dresses clinging to mustachioed men who cling to their drinks.
Your spectral being guides out the room, through the secret bookshelf entrance and back into the hobby of the hotel where the speakeasy hides. You glance around, bodies forming from lumps of fuzz as you move through the room, trying to focus on any discerning features, any mischievous smirks or knowing glances. You pay no attention to the men, of course, but you do take the time to note a few of them with particularly expensive watches that you stow in your mind for later. None of the women sitting in the hotel lobby seem at all evil enough to match the sultry voice still lingering between your ears, so you move on, weaving through hallways and, eventually, up the master staircase.
There’s no chance that you’re going to spend hours searching through every last room that the hotel has. You were desperate to meet this mystery woman, but not that desperate. She’d leave her room soon enough. You’re ready to give up her search, let her come to you if she wants, but—
“You’re getting closer…” The voice teases again, her voice mockingly low, a hint of a moan behind her tongue. You focus harder, trying to pick up on anything that might lead you in her direction. Then, you grab it. Cars honking in the distance, voices of people, But the voices are too muffled, she isn’t on the street.
Your eyebrows furrow, you grip the glass between your hands so hard you fear it may shatter. It’s been too long since you’ve let your astral body subtract from your own like this, and the minute amount of alcohol flowing through you is rendering you a bit wobbly.
The voice disappears.
You think, for far too long, so much so that you fear you look utterly ridiculous, sitting at a bar with your eyes shut, gripping your glass like a mad woman.
Then, it hits you.
The roof.
Your ghost snaps back into action, ascending the many floors of the hotel in a heartbeat’s time. To use a heart’s beating as a measurement of time is fruitless, as your own is beating so quick that it’s impossible to count them. You feel the flutter in your chest as you fly through the door, and there the owner of the voice sits.
She flicks her head around, surely feeling your presence, and you only see the shockingly beautiful face before your soul returns to your restless body. You rise from your chair in a start, racing out of the bar and into the hotel with the speed of a rabbit. Your desperation to find this woman has been satisfied, but now you’re overcome by an insatiable need to truly stand in her presence. You don’t think your eyes have ever graced a woman so alluring, with such wild hair and the piercing eyes of an owl, which, if you recall, had the littlest shimmer of a glow to them.
By the time you’ve made it up the stairs, knees weak and chest heaving, you feel a sudden block standing in your way. You take a moment to let your breath catch up to the rest of you, fiddling anxiously with your skirt as you consider all of the ways that the woman behind this door could be dangerous. She was certainly just as powerful as, if not more than, you, if she was able to get inside your mind, the mind so built up with fortitude and yet so deeply dilapidated by your own drinking habits, that you were barely able to gain control of yourself.
You didn’t even know there was anyone else like you in this world. You always knew there was something special about you, since the time when you were quite young and found yourself able to spy on the entire neighborhood from the comfort of your little pink canopy bed. The skill raised a mischievous little girl, and an entirely heartbroken young woman.
Your delicate brain was now wracked with prescient visions of your own death, but that subconscious need to wrap your arms around this mystery woman, to know all of her stories and to count the trinkets in her hair, took control of your hands and opened the door onto the roof of the building.
“Well, hi there.”  She grins, her eyes hungry, but the rest of her face as sweet and caring as a mother’s.
You shakily take a few steps forward out of the shadows and into the moon’s cool glow, the small porch light on the roof flickering a few times before diminishing. You can’t help but wonder if it’s something that she’s done, if she’s read your mind and felt your discomfort in the flashing, put it out for you.
“Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby.” She coos, outstretching a hand. She’s definitely sensed your discomfort in her presence, but anyone with a trained eye would mark your fidgeting hands and shaky breath floating in the cool night air.
You swallow hard before taking a shy step closer, then another, until you’re sitting by her side before you can think to even do such a thing. She sits on the ledge of the roof, legs dangling over, threatening to spill out onto the alleyway that’s at least fifteen stories down. You force your eyes not to look down as you take a similar seat, but keep your legs on the concrete of the building’s roof.
“Don’t be frightened.” She hums, her lithe fingers raising to twirl in your hair. Her breath is warm against your cheek, marred by the smell of starvation and cheap wine, but it’s far from a scent you’d turn away from. You find yourself leaning ever closer to the woman, entranced by the woman’s soft voice and divinely pointed nose. You’re so very close to her, yet the words that you’re begging to say, the questions you yearn for answers to, refuse to leave your throat. It feels as though she’s wrapped a sly finger around your vocal cords, allowing only a few needy whimpers to pass your lips.
“My name is Rose.” She purrs, her fingers gliding against your jaw, tilting your head each way so that she may see the fullness of your cheeks under the rising moon. You try to do the same to her, to take in each feature of her face, but you’re so entranced by her glowing eyes, that you can’t seem to pull yourself out of them. “And you, little one… You sure are something.”
You can only blink back at her, body feeling weak below your heavy shoulders. You try to conjure up words of your own, try to introduce yourself, but you can’t. And you’re sure she’s already been through each ridge and valley of your mind, so introductions won’t be necessary.
Rose practically has full control of you now, and before you can fight back, she has you pinned to the ledge, back flat against cold stone, her muscled arm positioned by your head so that you can’t fight against her. You can only wiggle, but the hand that lays flat against your stomach keeps you still, allowing no more movement from your body. You feel tears prick your eyes, try to fight them down. You’re not so much scared of the woman above you as you are terrified of your possible fall from this roof, but your previous prescience hadn’t outlined such a death, so your tears subside.
“Don’t cry, sweet thing…” She purrs, lifting a hand to the flat-brimmed hat taming her wonderful curls, producing a thin needle from its body. “This won’t hurt a bit. Well, it will, but you won’t be alive long enough to feel the pain.” Her voice is impossibly calming, and it tricks your brain into trusting her, into falling victim to her body’s heat and her lulling tone, sending you into a meditative state, your body going limp below her.
“Get off…” You’re able to force out, though it’s just above a whisper, and she’s either not heard you or chooses to ignore you, because Rose’s hand is unshaken as she points the needle to your eye, daring to press it in further. But she’s taking her sweet time, feeding off of the fear in your eyes, enjoying the sight of your flushed cheeks and hooded lids, the way you’re completely subservient to her every move.
“I said, get off!” you yell, and the power of your voice is enough to fling the predator off of you, sending her straight back into the brick wall behind her. You scurry off of the ledge, finding safety on the floor of the roof, curling into yourself as you gaze upon what you’ve done. Nothing like this has every happened before. The astral projection, the visions of the future, those were all frequent experiences. You’d never so much as moved something an inch with your mind, so to throw a grown woman a couple meters into the air… it brought a new shake to your fingers.
She lay against the brick wall, blood dripping from her nose, eyes shut as though unconscious, but you could still hear her breathing, still feel a life force beating through her.
“I’m…” You stutter, standing to check her wounds. Though the woman was about to kill you, you felt a sympathy for her tug at your heart, so though you keep your distance, you still hope she wasn’t too badly hurt. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know I would… That anything like that would happen…” Your voice is breathy, stuttering over your words, and the fear returns when she stirs, sits up, stares at you.
But it’s not fear, and she can feel it. You’re not scared of Rose. Not in the typical meaning of the word. You feel an invisible string tying you to her, a deep-rooted need for her that dares you to step closer, and you do.
“I was right. You’re powerful, aren’t you…” There’s a smirk on her lips when you bend to kneel by her side, her hands returning to your face, forefinger swiping at the blood pooling on your cheek, from her long needle swiping your flesh. She grins at the glossy liquid, slides her own finger against her tongue, accepting your blood against her tastebuds, eliciting a sigh from the flavor she’d so dearly missed. “You’re not scared of me, are you, little bunny?” Her smile is downright starving, as she shifts to sit on her knees, towering over you once again.
You think for a moment, pensively chewing on your lower lip, but ultimately shake your head in response. She must be aware that despite your rushed blood flow and dilated pupils, it’s not in fear that your body reacts. It’s in intense attraction. An attraction that Rose feels, that she reciprocates, that she acts on. She wraps her arm around your neck, not squeezing, only stabilizing, holding you steady as she peppers a few rushed, sloppy kisses to your cheek, greedy for the taste of your blood, greedy to feel the warmth of your cheeks against her undead lips.
“Rose…” You groan, your hands finally tangling in the hair that you so desperately wanted to grip into since first laying eyes on the woman. “I have a room, downstairs…” Your voice is replaced by moans when the woman moves her attacking kisses from your cheeks to your jaw, her teeth grating against the sharp bone there, surely leaving redness in her wake.
“Take me there, special girl.” She grunts in return, allowing herself a few more kisses to your skin before standing, pulling you up on weak legs forcing you in the direction of the door. But you don’t make it far before you’ve thrown yourself onto her once again, placing a few hungry kisses of your own to her lips, tasting your own blood on her tongue, gripping her waist so hard that you nearly leave the ground. She laughs into you, picking you up so that you may reach her height more appropriately, pressing you hard against the exit door, laying you flat against the cold metal of the door.
You pull away, hands playing with the small metal trinkets braided into her hair, tugging her head back as well. “Not here.” You whisper, voice small but still carrying the resolve needed. You couldn’t risk being seen, even though it was nearing the middle of the night, and you were on one of the highest buildings in the city, that fear of being caught still nipped at you.
Rose relented, pressing a kiss to your forehead before placing you back on the ground, allowing you to lead her back to your hotel room. The walk is short, but you find it prolonged by the aching between your legs, by the way Rose walks a few paces behind you as to not raise suspicion. Though you’re sure you’ve raised enough suspicion just from your appearances, you with your hair a mess and your eye makeup running, Rose with the marks of red lipstick smudged around her mouth. But you don’t care, you like the feeling of being so scandalous.
It's a matter of milliseconds from your entrance in your hotel room to your body hitting the bed, Rose holding herself up over you, your hands gripping the patterned tie that dangles from her neck. You’d at first missed the look of her menswear, the dark of the roof turning her into a blob of darkness below the shoulders, but in the light, you appreciate her clothing choices. She looks impossibly dapper, wearing the suit better than any man you’d ever met. You use the tie to bring her down over you, to connect your lips once more, enjoying the feeling of Rose’s warm tongue collecting your blood once again. Her fascination with blood is a spectacle to you, such an strange thing that’s not unbecoming of her, that, if anything, matches her odd spirit, her magical eyes. You find it incredibly attractive.
Rose drags her kisses down your neck once again, moving so that you may remove the drop-waist dress, throw it into pile on the floor. She sits back, looms over you, loosens the tie and unbuttons a few of the top buttons of her shirt before throwing her jacket to the same fate as your dress. Though she’s pinned you down, her hips over yours, keeping you flat against the mattress, you still wiggle below her, hands reaching up to grab at her belt, undoing it as best you can with shaking hands.
Her smirk is ever resting on her face, tongue swiping over her lower cheek when you lift your hips to rock into her own, her hand once again lowering so that you cease your movement.
“How pretty.” She purrs lowly, her voice still as low and seductive as it had been in your mind. Her lithe fingers toy with the lace of your underwear, tugging at it gently, enjoying the hitch in your breath as she does so. She enjoys your excitement so much so, that she leaves your underwear on, and instead returns to your top half to tease your already red skin. Rose does allow the removal of your matching bra, however, undoing the clasp with ease before discarding it to an unknown location, her eyes only focused on the curve of your breasts. She chews on her lip, as though trying to hold herself back, to remind herself that you’re a delicate little thing, that she must be gentle. A very difficult thing for a beast such as herself to remember.
When you’ve groaned her name enough times, tugged at her pants hard enough, Rose finally lets herself at you, fervently wrapping her lips around your nipple, her mouth’s moisture dripping onto you, rough hands roaming your body, eventually finding your other breast to tease the nipple there. Her hips buck against your thigh, and you rise it so that she may straddle it fully, and you moan when the feeling of wet cloth presses against your bare skin. She rubs against you as if in heat, as if the taste of your blood has sent her into a daze.
Your hands rest atop her hat, the vintage velvet material impossibly soft against your fingers, yet those fingers yearn to feel her hair, so you lift the hat an inch or so to remove to from her head entirely.  Rose’s head snaps up, her eyes shining a bright, nearly blinding, white light, her brows furrowed.
“Don’t.” is all she says before returning to her work at your chest, and though you huff a little at the order, you accept it. She has so much more experience in this world than you, so even though you’re upset by the inability to muss her hair, you accept her demand.
Her kisses soon move down your stomach, her indulgent smile all too pleased when she finally reaches your thighs, and you toss your legs over her shoulders, allowing her to stake claim over your heat. Rose nudges her head against the soft skin of your thigh before sucking at your skin, leaving her signature red marks there. You’re growing impatient, and you know that the pool in your underwear has grown incredibly large.
Rose confirms your suspicions when she pushes the lace material to the side, a low laugh erupting from her before her tongue swipes a long line through your wetness, collecting all of your taste into her starving mouth, eyes glowing impossibly brighter from the taste. She lets out a series of curses, but you don’t hear them, for a moan of your own has encapsulated the room, you voice louder than it has ever been in your life.
“You taste of whiskey.” She purrs against your skin, her voice sending a vibration though you that sends your head flying back into the thin pillow beneath you.
Rose takes another moment to enjoy the sight of you from this angle, and as much as you enjoy her overindulgent personality, the beautifully awe-filled expression on her sweet face, you’re growing impatient, even more wet, with each moment that passes. You squeeze your legs around her neck, tugging her down so that she may finally do what you’re both begging for.
The older woman drops her head, her lips attaching to your clit, smooth, rhythmic movements to the bundle of nerves forcing your back off the bed, your hands returning to lay on her hat, desperate to tug on the hair there. She must hear your mind’s desperation, must have changed her mind in the high of your taste, for she removes the hat, careful to place it beside you on the bed, not daring to let it touch the ground. You want to thank her, but when you finally do sink your fingers into her incredible curls, one of Rose’s own skilled fingers slides into you, curling so that another series of moans flies from your lips.
“Rose—” Your voice is strained as you rock your hips against her mouth, fingers tugging on her hair, hard enough that you should be able to pull her off of you entirely, but she is so focused on her tongue’s movement that not even the hand of God could pull her off of you. You try to praise her, to tell her how good she’s making you feel, but all that comes out are a series of curses, and judging by the way she’s already read your mind so many times this evening, you don’t need spoken words to communicate with your lover. She knows exactly what you need before you even register your need for it, and slips a second finger into your cunt, dipping her fingers in and out of your warm body with quick motions.
You groan her name many more times, your hands flying out of her hair and over your face when the tightness forms in your stomach.
Rose, ever clairvoyant about your own emotions, picks up her pace.
“Come on my tongue, my darling.” She says without speaking, her voice filling your mind once again, creating that brain fog that had so drawn you to her in the first place.
You do as you’re told right away, your muscles tensing up before falling weak against the cheap hotel mattress. You still hide your face beneath your hands, fingers able to feel your heartbeat through the flushed skin of your cheeks. Rose is gentle, yet entirely selfish with her next movements, her tongue swiping up all of your wetness, making sure that she’s stolen all of your taste, licked you clean, before she moves to lay next to you on the bed. She forces your hands away from your face, caressing your cheek gently, lightly laughing at how red you are. Rose thoroughly enjoys the sight, as the warmth of your cheeks is a dear reminder of how much life you possess, a stark contrast from her own flesh, which, though it is still tan and freckled from time spent in the sun, is growing sad from the lack of nutrients, from her centuries spent walking the earth.
You crawl on top of her, pressing a kiss to her lips, reversing your role and pinning her down with your own hips this time.
“You are so special.” She whispers as you gently unbutton her shirt, your body fueled by a craving to see just how low her freckles trail. You gaze up to her when she speaks, fingers ceasing their movements when she lifts a hand to cradle your chin. “Such a special girl deserves to live long.” She purrs, drawing you back down for another longing kiss. When you rise from it, head tilting to the side in curiosity, she simply shakes her head, pulls you back down so that your head rests on her shoulder, where you lay calmly, ears searching for a heartbeat that never arrives. “I have a plan for you, sweet girl. You’ll need to rest.” Her voice is heavy when it enters your eyes, your eyelids drooping almost immediately. You don’t notice the way Rose places her hat back on her head, only fall into a deep slumber, only relying on the rise and fall of her chest.
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the-marigold-reception · 6 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do Mordecai writing a love letter confessing his feelings to his love interest. I believe he wouldn’t be as poetic as Rocky, but since he is so into reading and talking with big words I do think it would be a little dramatic letter. Just a paroxysm of everything he may feel.
If you don’t like that idea, how about him as a secret admirer? (As you may have noticed, I am quite a big fan of love letters, lmao). How he would struggle to leave his letters without being seen and the way he would try to get his crush to say anything about it while not looking suspiciously involved.
Thank you very much. Your page is my favourite, so I hope you don’t mind taking one of my ideas.
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To Whom It May Concern,
I have admired you for some time now, and I must confess my feelings. Your presence captivates me, and I find myself thinking of you incessantly. I harbor a deep affection for you that cannot remain unspoken any longer.
Yours Truly,
A Secret Admirer
It takes him a while to actually place the letter somewhere you’ll find it
He’s so nervous to be this vulnerable about his emotions
When he finally posts the letter into your letterbox, in the dead of night, fully decked out in black so no one- not even you would be unable to spot him
The next night he’ll come back and see the letter is gone- now he knows the waiting game is afoot
He won’t have to ask you if you’ve received any weird mail because you’ll come straight to him
(He’s very happy that you depend on him for help with simple things)
“Mordecai! I got this letter and I realllllly want to know who it is- can you help me draw up a systematic chart of likely to unlikely?”
The strong urge to tell you it’s him starts there
But he is flattered when you write his name down first out of anyone-
If you don’t figure it out after the first letter, he’ll send you another
To Whom It May Concern
It is with a trembling hand and an eager heart that I pen these words to you. The world around us is a tempest of change and noise, yet in your presence, I find a sanctuary of calm. The bustle of the city, the clamor of the jazz bands, all fade into a distant murmur when I am with you. It is as if time itself pauses, granting us a stolen moment of eternity.
How I wish I could express these feelings openly, but alas, the constraints of our world bind me to the shadows.
Yet, let this letter serve as a beacon of my affection, a silent testimony to the depths of my devotion. Until the day we can walk freely under the sun, I shall remain, faithfully and fervently,
Yours, in silence and in longing.
He’s a bit worried about what your reaction will be when you figure out it’s him
If you figure out it’s him-
You definitely know
You snuck into his office and checked the penmanship, the speech pattern was the same as Mordecai’s and he’d started to get increasingly nervous around you
One day a letter is slid under Mordecai’s office door whilst he’s working
To my Longing Admirer
Your letter found its way to my heart as surely as a sunbeam pierces through the morning mist. Your words, so tender and earnest, have stirred within me a curiosity and a longing I can scarcely describe.
It is with a blend of trepidation and exhilaration that I respond to your heartfelt confession. The sentiments you have shared resonate deeply with my own unspoken dreams and desires. Though the world may impose its boundaries upon us, I find myself yearning to transcend them, if only for a moment.
Might we dare to meet, and allow our hearts the luxury of true connection? If it pleases you, let us rendezvous at the Serendipity Tearoom on the corner of Elm and Rose, this Saturday at three o'clock. There, amidst the soft murmur of whispered secrets and the delicate clink of teacups, we may find solace in each other's company.
I shall be the one with a single gardenia, tucked gently in the folds of my dress. Until then, I remain,
Yours in hopeful anticipation,
An Enchanted Soul
[should I do a Part 2?]
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mochaxmars · 4 months ago
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For love is medicine | 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐥 + 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟔𝟕𝟐
𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫…𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 :)
𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
- + - + -
And there he was.
The man she made such an effort to avoid.
From across the room, she observed his smooth flawless skin, like a sheet of well-done cloth. His eyes glinted despite the dim lighting. His soft, sharp lips were attractive as always, they captivated her - daring her to kiss them but she held back.
She surprised herself by even showing up after she received a call from him out of the blue - which she didn't answer, simply dismissing it as an accidental dial. There wasn't anything for them to talk about as they had broken up several months ago but it wasn't until she heard through the grapevine that he wanted to speak to her.
She was seated at a table in the corner, peering at the small gathering of people at the bar. She bathed in the purple lighting, clutching to her rosé filled glass and taking occasional sips. Her body swayed slightly with the live jazz, soothing her soul more than anything else could.
Silence fell across the room as the owner announced the next performer on the open mic. There she saw him walk on the stage with unmatched confidence. As he stood in front of the microphone, she prepared herself to hear his baritone voice once again; it was low and soft but powerful enough to send chills through her body.
He cleared his throat and finally spoke, "I'm going to take up some of your time tonight and read something I wrote for the woman I let go".
"Baby, listen to my words.
I promise you they are medicine.
They come from my soul - a bridge to your own.
They are something you can trust, my love;
though I know it hasn't always appeared that way.
I am so sorry for the pain I caused;
I think part of me needed to test you, to see how you'd respond,
to make sure we were right for each other.
I know we are and I carry the shame for needing more than your word.
I just want you to know this and take my silent love from that time.
Trauma can happen so fast yet it can linger on and on until there is a chance for real healing and a real resolution.
Part of love is to protect, with life and limb, with everything that you have, even your soul.
You did that for me and I could not even give you a fraction of that.
You were my defence and I so badly wanted to be yours with no inhibitions.
I stand here before you speaking my once latent words.
Everybody's hands came together in applause apart from her own - she was too stuck on his confession. Her eyes followed his movement from the stage and towards her table; until he finally reached her and their eyes met.
"YN", he breathed. She missed how no one else could send a rush of feelings through her with just the call of her name. "Why did you want me to come here Angel?" she questioned despite her knowing the answer.
"Before we started dating, you said that this was your favourite place to come and this is where we met".
Part of her wanted to feel angry and part of her truly felt that anger. She knew that she couldn't soothe a person who turned to her for sake of their own egotistical or stress relief needs, so to protect herself, she left in hopes of finding a person who was willing to soothe her and be soothed by her. She didn't want to acknowledge his words, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but appreciate and believe his honesty. Her mind wandered back to when they were still a couple, to how they would spend almost every day with each other, to how their nights would be filled with intense sex; but to also how she loved him and that she had actually never stopped. For the sake of not letting her mind ruin things for her heart; something in her made her willing to forgive him and give him a chance.
"Okay, so what happens now?"
A small yet familiar smile crept onto his face as he came into realisation, "Well if it's okay with you, I was thinking that you could come to my place and we can talk".
Her eyes narrowed slightly in hearing the last part of his sentence, she hoped this wasn't one of his little games in attempt to sleep with her.
Angel quickly caught on to the look of suspicion etched on her face, "I meant what I said, we're strictly talking".
The comfortable silence that had joined them in the journey to his house had left at the door; leaving them with a complete absence of sound. They were seated on opposite ends of the chaise lounge with drinks in hand and eyes focusing on different parts of the rooms to avoid each other's gaze.
“Angel need I remind you that you’re the one who asked me here? If you’re going to speak then but if not then I beg, don’t waste any more of my time”. There it was, that cold and dismissive tone she used to mask her discomfort, the façade was simply that to Angel; he knew her too well.
After a sharp intake of breath, he prepared himself for the words that always tasted too bitter on his tongue “Querida you don’t even understand, there’s such a natural soothing quality to your eyes and to see you is to feel my body relax and brain begin to blossom once more. Moments of emptiness still come like an ambush, yet in your company, a real smile can return, a real laugh, real warmth. I can't give much yet, I'm still too empty, but at least now I know who to give it to. I know who is safe. I wanna be able to love you past the pain, if you’ll let me, please I don’t deserve to know that heart of yours but I’ll give anything for that”
She forgave him, oh she forgave him alright but she would never forget because that would render her less protected. She looked at him and thought about how kind and imperfect his soul is and despite the pain they were in, she wanted nothing more than to embrace him. She was enamoured by the way Angel loved her and always had, with his consideration, his need to care for her and listen to her heart. There was so much they still had to overcome but they knew that when you can do that with another, that they had all the real gold this universe has to offer.
It was now Angel’s turn to observe, she hadn't changed much over the course of time they'd been apart; but he always found her to be more beautiful with each day. His eyes trained on each detail of her body, taking in her dark and rich colour, reminding himself of every mark that adorned her skin. It wasn't long before inappropriate thoughts flooded his mind, images of their tangled bodies at every angle; blood rushed straight to his member and it soon sprang to life under the restricting fabric of his jeans.
Her eyes flickered around the room until they landed on him, only to find herself on the receiving end of his lustful glare, reflecting the intensity and sensuality that thickened in the air.
Without a thought, she made her way across the couch, straddling him and her lips found his - not in an innocent way but a hot, passionate and demanding way; a fire igniting sharply within them. Angel’s hands moved to her waist, gripping it as she ground on him, the friction providing partial pleasure for them both but she wanted more.
He was all logic and feigned cool detachment until he touched her skin. Then something not only stirred in him, but it took over his thinking. The rest of his world became an unimportant blur that was banished into the far recesses of his mind. The only thing that mattered was touching her more, kissing her mouth, her stomach, her breasts. He tried to be gentle with her clothing, not to rip the lace, but it proved difficult when all he wanted was to feel his body against hers.
His much taller body hovered above hers as he bared all of his weight onto his elbows. He dropped his head down until she felt a hot breath on her neck, then the tender brush of his lips. Burning as they made contact with her neck. His hand lazily combed through her curls, as the kisses become harder and more urgent. Another hand slid around her waist and pulled her close to his pine-scented body. He pulled away only to slide down her body, making sure to touch every curve, leaving a heated path until he reached her core.
Angel parted the sensitive flesh with two fingers, to be met with her pussy completely slick with arousal. He blew on it lightly just to see her shiver with anticipation, he planned on using how responsive she was to his advantage. He pushed her legs back, giving him full access as he decided to tease her; tracing her slit with his fingers.
"Angel please", she tried clenching her legs to suppress the feeling from her core but he wouldn't allow it. He held her legs down with one hand and then penetrated her with two fingers from the other. As he inched and curled long digits inside of her, he paid attention to throbbing clit, plump lips sucking softly contrasting with the increasingly fast movements of his fingers. She was completely intoxicated by him. Loud moans of pleasure were elicited from YN's parted lips and she could feel her climax stirring, ready to be released and for her to be taken over by her orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum", she warned. And with that he ceased all movements drawing a whimper of dissatisfaction from her pouted lips.
"I want to feel you around me when you cum", his deep voice layered with lust.
YN gathered the strength to switch positions with him so that she was on top. She grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it firmly until it reached its full length. Her soft hand gripped his dick, lining it with her weeping core and rubbing between the folds until she lowered herself on him, burying it to the hilt with no form of warning. They let out a moan of satisfaction at being connected again but she remained momentarily still just so she could readjust to his size.
"Fuck!", a throaty groan escaped him as he was reunited with her tightness.
She slammed her waist on him, the sound of heavy breaths, moans and skin slapping filled the rooms and she loved it. She built up a rhythm which he gladly followed, bucking his waist to match her pace. There was nothing but obliterating sensation, thrilling and swelling, as their limbs slid across each other in this restless, sensuous wrestling. Her arms snaked around his neck and she whispered into his ear barely audible "I missed this- I missed you".
He spoke the same in response but much like her, Angel was breathless and the desire was taking precedence. He watched, completely entranced by the lift and drop of her breasts with every movement, the temptation was too strong as he enveloped her nipple into his mouth and his fingers gave attention to the other.
The overstimulation caught up to her as her climax built once more with greater intensity than before. He felt her slick walls clenched around his swollen member. A certain sense of urgency kicked in as he pressed her hips down against his and began to thrust upwards. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as it all became too much to deal with, her legs shook fiercely, her pussy convulsed around his hardness and a cry left her lips as the orgasm hit. The ecstasy coursed through her veins and shockwaves rode through her. A string of moans and curses left his mouth as his climax came crashing down on him and he erupted inside of her.
He pulled out, bringing her cool back towards his heated chest as their erratic hearts beat in a timely rhythm. Words would have ruined the atmosphere so they stayed quiet, silent thoughts ultimately expressing their feelings.
- + - + -
okay the link to my ask box is here, i love feedback…hint hint
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conmastor · 2 months ago
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T4T Maxley for the soul
Okay so this one I like to call it:
Miss Belladonna
I based the title on a song by Slayyyter. If you don’t know who she is go listen to her, she’s literally one of my favorites and needs to be absorbed by people.
Anyway, here is some backstory for those two. I'll start with Bradley:
My thought process is that Bradley comes out as trans (MTF) when she’s about 16 and surprise surprise her parents suck. So they put her out of the house, making her sleep on the lawn. The next day she wakes up in a moving vehicle and freaks out. Luckily it’s just her Grandmother (I am not pulling a Wattpad calm down). To make a long story short her grandmother got a call from her son (Bradley uppercrust the 2nd) demanding her to cut Bradley from the inheritance because of her coming out as a woman. Her Grandmother (being the best person in the world) was having none of that nonsense, so instead she cut HIM from the inheritance. So his business better stay afloat to keep the lights on (I’ll ponder his fate later).
Years later, Bradley (Now named Brindalyn (I know I said I didn't have a name for her but in this AU I use this name because it fits. In my other ones it doesn't)) lives in her grandmothers huge castle/mansion, finally getting to be who she is…… but not quite. Ya see Brindalyn (or Brin for short) loves living with her grandmother and loves the support she gets from her (Grandmother: I’ve always wanted a granddaughter), although the thing is her grandmother is very old school and strict.
Rules:
Proper speech etiquette 
Proper table manners
Always look presentable before leaving your room for the day
Dress modestly
Walk with purpose
Address people properly
No men over that she hasn’t met
No skating
Now those rules were relatively easy to follow for her, but the skating and the modest dress are harder to uphold.
She loves skating (something I will never take away from her) so when this rule came out of her grandmothers mouth her exact words were: “Ladies do not pass their time playing frivolous sports such as that. Put your time into your studies and cultivating your social life to benefit you in the future.” Again this woman is stuck in her ways and doesn’t understand the idea of skating as a hobby for people let alone her granddaughter. So Brindalyn, having the fear of being kicked out again, left skating alone. However she does sneak out the house to go to a skate park or two when her grandmother is away doing business trips.
Now for the modesty thing…….. she hates it. When she was living with her grandmother in her earlier years she didn’t mind it because it let her dress in a way she never has before. Although at one point she started to look into different ways to dress and became more inclined to want clothes with a bit of midriff, showing a lot of leg (cause she’s tall), having her shoulders out, and just the smallest show of cleavage. One day when she came home from a shopping trip, she decided to go out in one of the outfits she bought from the store and wear it home. As she walks into the house her grandmother was furious. She talked about being dressed appropriately and showing a respectable amount of skin and all that stuff. Right then and there she demanded that Brindalyn return the clothes at once. Begrudgingly she did. She now knows that if she wanted dress the way she wanted, it has to be outside of her grandmothers house and away from anywhere she might frequent.
What she wants to wear      what her grandmother wants her to wear
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Finally onto the subject of school. Her grandmother wants her to go to the most prestigious school in the country and Brindalyn doesn’t mind that………. Yet there is a perfectly good college with a really cool event she wants to go to every year (or maybe join). So her plan goes as follows: make it seem like she would be home sick enough that she couldn’t go (which would be a bit true she just wants to jazz it up), have her grandmother be a bit sentimental (she’s usually a stone cold women, but with Brindalyn she’s quite lenient), apply to the State University (which she would obviously get in), then live life happily. Astonishingly, the plan worked! And now she is attending the college and is having a great time.
She gets there and becomes the resident rich girl with a small silver 2000 Mazda MX-5 Miata and a big ass attitude. She also made use of the power she seemed to hold due to the fact that she’s smart, pretty, and rich by joining the Gamma Mu Mu fraternity. They were very skeptical due to the fact she was a girl (instant euphoria from that comment), but regardless she showed them her wondrous organization skills and her leadership style was just what they needed. She even showed them her skating skills that she’s been working on so obviously she knew what she was talking about. All that to say, she got in being deemed the leader and also the manager of the team. She took that roll seriously and once she moved into the frat house order was then placed. Now stepping into the inside didn’t make her skin crawl and want to puke at the smells. It was cleaned regularly, dinners every Friday night (just to discuss school, social, skating stuff), game nights on Saturdays, and anything else that a frat house does. She also somehow got along with one of the frat members really well which would be Tank. She got closest with him and even shared some things with each other that made the bond stronger. Now with her right hand man at her side she basically ruled the fraternity and that same school year they won the X-games trophy. That was the biggest accomplishment to her and it made her all the more glad she is attending this college. Until her sophomore year rolled around and a certain gapped tooth dread head came to the school that year.
And now time for max’s backstory:
Max was born in Ohio and grew up in Spoonsville. His mother was nonexistent at the time (due to unknown reasons) so it was just him and his dad for the most part. There was a moment where they got new neighbors (Pete and PJ) which led to some favorable times in his life. Getting to middle school thought is when his feeling s started to be different about things. Mostly portioning to his gender. He didn’t’t know what was wrong at the time he just knew being a girl felt wrong. He talked about it with his new friend he made (Bobby) and he talked about the term transgender which confused Max at the time, but once he went on the library computers he looked it up and sure enough he found people that felt exactly like him. So he did his research about it and started to be completely sure this is what he wanted and it was. When Max finally came out as trans (FTM) at 13, his dad (for obvious reasons) was very VERY supportive. He was just happy to see Max happy so that was easy enough. His friends were also very supportive about it and even helped enforce it while they all went to school so no one bothered Max about it. Finally realizing who he was gave him the confidence he needed to talk to a girl he really liked (Roxanna) which lead to them dating, fortunately.
What wasn’t easy was affording the things he needed to transition. At the time all they could really afford was a chest binder, but to Max that was all he needed. A very supportive dad, some very awesome friends, a super nice and cute girlfriend, and something for the moment to keep his dysphoria at bay. When he was finally able to work he started saving money just so he could afford to take T shots and in the future get his surgeries. Once he turned 18 he, was off to college ready for the new chapter in his life. He still had his friends he made, but not a girlfriend (However they are still friends (so don’t worry). Now with 2 years of t shots under his belt and a head full of dreams, he plans on flying his way through his classes at State University and even attend a certain event that would change his life for the better. One issue tho, there’s this really bitchy pampered team manager that has ZERO chill.
I know Max’s backstory was quite short, but Brindalyn has a lot going on alright.
Anyway there are some funny haha moments in this au, but most of it is when they start dating. One moment I think is very funny is when Brindalyn sees Max talking to one of the goth girls in his class and he laughs at her jokes which made her go ballistic. Next day this bitch pulls up in this:
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Her face has fake piercings and (I am so serious right now) temporary tattoos. Max was so confused but loved seeing her dressed like it fr. At the end of the day they talk to each other and Max tells her that that the girl he was talking to was his lab partner and she was telling Max about what her girlfriend’s play she was putting on. And oh was Brindalyn embarrassed. Max still loves her tho :)
Another moment I think about is when Brindalyn finally introduces Max to her grandmother. Now please keep in mind, Max has piercings and tattoos in this AU………….. so grandma ain’t gonna be to keen on Brindalyn dating him. I am writing a little thing based on that tho so look out for that at some point.
Hoped you enjoyed my little yapping session and I am sorry it took a bit. School just started for me and I is tired but I am happy to yap either way.
If you have any questions or ideas about this AU please hand them over and I will answer them when I can! I love talking about these bitches too much anyway 
Also be on the look out because next will be the Cowboy AU 🤠
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physalian · 3 months ago
Text
On self-publishing, and why I did it
Based on the research that I have done, following other indie authors across multiple platforms, I think I've made an approach to this that is a lot less... shall we say, *intense* than people make it out to be? I've seen some YouTube videos acting like picking one route or the other might be the worst mistake of your author career.
I mean, I guess?
Back a few years ago I had a manuscript I was querying around and couldn't find any takers. Couldn't find any publishing houses that were accepting open submissions to pick up my manuscript either. So many of them had clauses in the application verifying that you were submitting to them and only to them and to expect a reply within 8-10 months. Coooool.
I did not have time for that.
The manuscript I had was 120k words. Baby’s first novel sitting at 120k words is not attractive to publishing houses. It’s a risk. I was younger and didn’t know much about finding an agent and all that jazz, so I had looked into self-publishing and was staring down an editor bill of about $3k minimum because of my word count. I did not have the money for that.
So that manuscript got shelved, meanwhile I wrote the sequel and got halfway through book 3 before writer’s block took hold.
Enter February 2024. I have an idea for a new book. 31 days later, I have that book’s first draft done—Eternal Night of the Northern Sky, on sale from draft to publication in seven months.
This time, I didn’t consider for one second trying the traditionally published route. ENNS is 111k words, it’s a doorstopper of a book, but the bulk wasn’t the only reason I decided to bootstrap myself to the finish line.
I wanted complete, absolute creative control every step of the way
If I have to market myself anyway, why am I splitting profit with a publishing house?
I *really* don’t have time to wait around hoping the right person sees my manuscript. I have a new job coming that’s going to eat up all my free time and could either delay ENNS a year or more, or get it out while I still had time to do so
I didn’t do this for money
I think that’s what makes so many of those rather intense arguments for one or the other so harrowing—the pressure is a lot higher if you invested all this time, money, and effort expecting returns to break even, if not actually turn a profit. Publishing with a publisher doesn’t guarantee people will buy your book, mind you, but it’s a helping hand nonetheless. If I even want to break even, let's say just on royalties from the ebook, I'd have to sell over a thousand copies.
Breaking down my above points:
I’m a firm believer in “if you want something done right, you do it yourself,” which does bite me in the ass from time to time, this I know. I didn’t want to get caught up in contracts or editors telling me what I could and couldn’t do or what I had to change. If ENNS fails, I will have no one to blame but myself, and I am at peace with this. If ENNS fails, and I’d gone through the trouble of signing my book’s soul away to a publisher, then I’d probably be a little resentful. 100% of ENNS is mine, even the cover. I had an image in my head of what I wanted the cover to look like, and I sat down and I drew it and it matches perfectly. Aside from the feedback implemented from betas and editors, my story is told the way I wanted to tell it. If it fails, I am at peace with this.
On marketing, I am not a person who does well with social media. Maybe it’s autism, idk, but trying to keep up with an Instagram is exhausting. I just don’t get anything from tiny text posts and blurbs and doomscrolling through influencers and advertisements. Social Media is, for me, exhausting. Tumblr is different, because writing is my strong point and this blog exists to share and curate something useful. But either way, I’d have to market this book alone, so why not do so with full creative control? If it fails, I am at peace with this.
I have a new job coming very quickly. My current job allows me about 5 hours of free time during my 8 hour shift on a good day not including the time outside work, and I work from home. ENNS was written in 31 days thanks to this job. The new one? Not so much. Seeing “please allow 8-10 months” and “please ensure this is an exclusive submission” on so many little publishing houses, and I did search far and wide, was incredibly disheartening. For me, personally, it wasn’t worth the gamble of waiting all that time, following the rules, and being told no or just being flat-out ghosted. Nor did I want to sit around querying agents into the void. This time, I didn’t have time to sift through agents. ENNS had to get out on the shelves as quickly as I could get it, and all that time (five goddamn months of editing, 500% of the time it took to write it) was spent perfecting the manuscript that it is, *not* waiting around trying to find an agent. If it fails, I am at peace with this.
And lastly, I don’t care if I make absolutely nothing from this book. I didn’t do it for the money, I did it to say I could. I have a day job, and I’m about to have a much higher paying day job. Maybe I’m lucky enough to have that, but I am under no illusions that putting in the hard work guarantees success. Success as an author is a crapshoot and being an amazing book is not the metric sales are measured in, if no one wants to read it. I’d like to make money, I didn’t do it for charity. It’s going to be priced exactly the same as another fantasy book of its caliber. But if only one person buys it, and finds something good from it, something in it that changes their life, then I will have succeeded, profit be damned. If all else fails, I am at peace with this.
This is not a post meant to sway people one way or the other. I know I didn’t do enough research or scour the internet hard enough to find a good agent. All of this is irrelevant when time was the most important factor in my debut novel. I was in a position where I could drop that $3k on an editor, so I did. I’m a capable enough artist to draw my own cover, so I did. I might be abysmal at managing social accounts, but less than a year ago this blog didn’t exist and it has over 5k reblogs and 950 followers and I think that’s pretty swell.
I’m 25 years old. I was not about to let it keep sitting around waiting for the golden opportunity with the perfect publishing house that might not have been coming. I had the means and motive to get it done, and by god, I did it.
If it fails, at least I can say that I failed trying. I am at peace with this.
Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is available now on Amazon in ebook and paperback! It is also available through your local bookstore.
Check it out on Goodreads!
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eyelessfaces · 11 months ago
Note
heyyyy!! might seem random and I don’t know if you listen to Lana Del Rey at all so feel free to ignore me, but if you do, what are some of her songs that you associate with Oscar’s characters (like Poe, Llewyn, Miguel, Rydal, the Moon boys... whatever, I’m not picky). Love your work btw!
dear anon, you are in luck, you have no idea how much.
I don't listen to lana that much, I do listen to a few songs and appreciate her work but my dear best friend @eatingyouryoung happens to have the oscar + lana brainrot cocktail
when I asked her for help to answer this ask, she happened to have already thought about this and sent me a 5 pages long document she had written about the subject, so there you go:
Llewyn:
In My Feelings
Brooklyn Baby
« Could it be that I fell for another loser
I'm crying while I'm cummin'
Making love while I'm making good money
Sobbin' in my cup of coffee
'Cause I fell for another loser
Get that cigarette smoke out of my face
You've been wasting my time
While you're taking what's mine, with the things that you're doing
Talk that talk, well now they all know your name
And there's no coming back from the place that you came
Baby don't do it
'Cause you got me in my feelings (catch you, it's so much right now)
Talking in my sleep again (you can whistle if you want) »
Rydal:
« Well, my boyfriend's in a band
He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed
I've got feathers in my hair
I get down to Beat poetry
And my jazz collection's rare
I can play most anything
I'm a Brooklyn baby »
« They say I'm too young to love you
They say I'm too dumb to see
They judge me like a picture book
By the colors, like they forgot to read
I think we're like fire and water
I think we're like the wind and sea
You're burnin' up, I'm coolin' down
You're up, I'm down
You're blind, I see »
California
Lucky Ones
« I shouldn't have done it, but I read it in your letter
You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better
I wanted to call you, but I didn't say a thing
Oh, I'll pick you up
If you come back to America, just hit me up »
« You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are
When you're lying in my arms, and, honey
You don't ever have to act cooler than you think you should
You're brighter than the brightest stars
You're scared to win, scared to lose
I've heard the war was over if you really choose
The one in and around you
You hate the heat, you got the blues
Changing like the weather, oh, that's so like you »
Santiago:
« Boy, get into my car, got a bad desire
You know that we'll never leave if we don't get out now, now, now
You're a careless con and you're a crazy liar, but, baby
Nobody can compare to the way you get down, down, down
I tried so hard to act nice like a lady
You taught me that it was good to be crazy
Every now and then, the stars align
Boy and girl meet by the great design
Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?
Everybody told me love was blind
Then I saw your face and you blew my mind
Finally, you and me are the lucky ones this time »
On Our Way
Poe:
« Why do I think too much?
You tell me not to worry
Because you're the boss
And you, you got a real good plan
My trouble's all over now
Because you're my man
You don't know what you've done to me
You're heavier than heavenly
Life on the run has set me free, me free now
We're on our way »
Love Song
Miguel:
« Dream a dream, here's a scene
Touch me anywhere 'cause I'm your baby
Grab my waist, don't waste any part
I believe that you see me for who I am
So spill my clothes on the floor of your new car
Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are? »
Black Beauty
Marc:
« I paint my nails black
I dye my hair a darker shade of brown
'Cause you like your women Spanish, dark, strong and proud
I paint the sky black
You said if you could have your way
You'd make it nighttime all today
So it'd suit the mood with your soul
Oh, what can I do?
Nothing, my sparrow blue
Oh, what can I do?
Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue
Sun and ocean blue
Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you »
Say Yes to Heaven
Jake:
« If you dance, I'll dance
And if you don't, I'll dance anyway
Give peace a chance
Let the fear you have fall away
I've got my eye on you »
Honeymoon
Steven:
« There are violets in your eyes
There are guns that blaze around you
There are roses in between my thighs
And a fire that surrounds you
It's no wonder every man in town
Had neither fought nor found you
Everything you do is elusive
To even your honey dew »
Prom Song (Gone Wrong)
Nathan:
« Boy, it's late, walk me home, put your hand in mine
At the gate, stop and say, "be my valentine"
You are, by far, the brightest star
I've ever seen, and I never dreamed
I'd be so happy that I could die
You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say, "back at ya"
I flip my hair and make you stare and put my makeup on
And make up stories 'bout my life and put on very cherry bomb
And even then, I knew that we were something serious
That you would dominate my thoughts like radio to Sirius »
Pretty When You Cry
Blue:
« All those special times I spent with you, my love
They don't mean shit compared to all your drugs
But I don't really mind, I've got much more than that
Like my memories, I don't need that
I'll wait for you, babe, you don't come through, babe
You never do, babe, that's just what you do
Because I'm pretty when I cry »
Dealer
Jonathan:
« I check it, I wreck it, I turn it around
I gave you all my money, gave you all my money
Gave you all my money, gave you all my money
I don't wanna live
I don't wanna give you nothing
'Cause you never give me nothing back
Why can't you be good for something?
Not one shirt off your back
Why can't you be good for something?
Not one shirt off your back »
Young and Beautiful
Leto:
« Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?
Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven
Please let me bring my man
When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in
Father, tell me if you can
All that grace, all that body
All that face makes me wanna party
He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds »
National Anthem
here you go :))
« I'm your national anthem
God, you're so handsome
Take me to the Hamptons, Bugatti Veyron
He loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon
Holding me for ransom, upper echelon
He says to be cool but, I don't know how yet
Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck
I said, "Can we party later on?"
He said, "Yes, yes, yes" »
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that-one-anxious-mango · 2 years ago
Text
You + Me = US (1)
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Summary: After a shocking discovery is made that you decide to keep to yourself out of fear..you realize your secrecy may be doing more harm than good.
Content: BIG ANGST. Reader feeling sad and conflicted. Appearance of a friend. Argument and Tension between Austin and reader. Tense and sad Austin. Just all around Angst. 
A/N: Hello Beautiful humans! I hope you’re all well. I know this is something I hadn’t planned out putting out so soon. But seeing as ya’ll wanted the first part of the juicy angsty story I mentioned so bad..this is it. I hope you all enjoy because..yeah. Much love. *hugs*
P.S Please Always feel free to comment, reblog, and send me letters about the fic and anything else pertaining to the series!  And also let me know to be added to the taglist! 🏷️
Taglist: @purejasmine , @wacoshuffle
---
So here you were.
One Bathroom Counter
Six tests.
Twelve brightly positive lines.
One Shocked Alana
And one terrified you.
The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop.
You almost couldn't believe it.
You were pregnant and scared shitless.
Immediately you’d burst into tears while Alana who usually wasn’t one for traditional methods of comfort..did her best.  
From there a hour crying session began until you got the strength to talk.
" Alana what am I gonna do. This isn’t suppose to be happening right now. Not n-now." You sniffled out hanging on to your friend tighter.
This was bad..no scratch that...it was terrible timing.
You had just finally broken some ground at work and was finally feeling like your contributions were being used. Austin was riding the high of Elvis and had also just finished filming Dune part 2. Not to mention you'd only gotten engaged not even three months ago and hadn't been in the new condo two good months...which you'd been literally going at it like rabbits in.
But still, everything was flowing just the way it needed to flow, and something like this was certain to disrupt it.
" You're gonna have to do what you need to do, babes. No matter what you need to take care of you first above all else." Alana offered.
Looking at her with red eyes you asked, " What would you do? "
Mirroring you back with a face of stone Alana was hesitate to answer because in her mind.. you may not have wanted to hear her true opinion. 
She replied, " Honestly."
Taking a breath you nodded.
" Well...."
—-
It'd been almost a month since you'd found that you were pregnant. And it had not been a easy ride. Between the fatigue, constant nauseous feeling, tiredness, and the task of doing your best to hide all signs of the minimal morning sickness from everyone.
You were exhausted.
But still the only two souls that knew were you and Alana.
And as much as you wanted to tell Austin and everyone else...you weren't ready.
Immediately when you stepped inside your home you smelt the delicious scent that carried through the air along with the soft jazz music you could hear from the kitchen. When you entered you were greeted by a enthused Magnus who did his everyday duty of administering your daily dosage of puppy kisses. After you went to the kitchen.
" Hey, mama. Been waiting to see you all day." Austin chirped from his post at the stovetop. He looked to have been making Fajitas and yellow rice, one of your favorite things he made, but  your stomach didn't jump at the sight of them like they normally would.
" Hi. That smells good, babe." You responded slowly inching toward the living room faking a smile. Really the closer you got, the more you wanted to gag. It smelled so funny.
" Thanks. I figured it had been a hot minute since I'd made it and I know its a favorite of yours. I thought we might eat this for dinner then maybe we could finish another chapter of the book we got Saturday upstairs."
You just nodded, " Yeah, Aus. That sounds nice. I'm gonna go lie on the couch for a little bit though. Feeling little tired." You informed.
Austin had to hold back the sullen expression that wanted to form and instead replace it with a small smile, usually whenever he cooked you were perched right on a seat at the kitchen island chattering and giggling. But as of recent that hadn't been the case and Austin would be lying if he said it didn't bother him.
" Okay."
From there the two of you had dinner as normal making little small talk here and there. Mostly work talk and little about plans for the summer the two of you had made which now made you said since they might not be feasible with the new information of your...condition.
Post dinner Austin let Magnus out to potty before you both ventured upstairs with the happy hound following where the two of you separately shower and change to then got in bed and Austin took his turn to read.
Feeling actually tired you let him sort of cuddle you with his unoccupied hand on your back while your head rested on his chest and your legs were intertwined.
Seeing that the book was a romance once you'd hit a certain part of the chapter it'd gotten..spicy . And with the two of you particularly in a enclosed space like your bed, it wasn't shocking to you when Austin decided to make a move.
He'd leaned in and grabbed your face pulling yours to his in a sweet kiss. A kiss that you couldn't help but naturally blend into. This was the most action the two of you had seen in a while. He was enjoying being this close to you. He drank in the scent of mango and vanilla that came from you and savored the soft of your skin on his fingertips. 
Gaining more traction without breaking the union Austin had managed to to set the book aside on the nightstand while maneuvering to hover over you. Everything was okay until you felt a hand move from caressing the top of your breast down to brush the top of your stomach.
Startled you abruptly pulled away alarming Austin.
" Whoa. Hey you alright? What's the matter? " He questioned searching your face.
Putting on a poker face you nodded, " Yeah I'm fine, babe. Just..do you mind..." You trailed silently gesturing for him to move off.
Obliging instead of just rolling over, Austin got up from the bed standing to look at you. You couldn't quite pin-point what he was thinking, but from his expression it was clear he was bothered.
" Y/N what's going on? Is it me? Have I done something? "  He asked.
Shaking your head you scooched off the bed moving to stand, " Of course not, Aus. Why would you think that? It's fine. I'm fine." You said feeling a whoosh of anxiety enter your chest.
" Well I honestly don't know what you want me to think, baby. I mean as of late every time I come near and try to hold you , you move away from like I got the plague. We haven't had a date night in three weeks because you always keep saying you're too tired or busy. Whenever I'm home and I cook dinner for us you don't wanna even sit down and eat with me." Austin poured looking at you with pleading eyes. " It feels..like you don't want me around most days."
Your eyes began to water hearing his outpour of concern and neglect. 
“ That’s not true, baby. You know I want you around all the time.” You tried assuring.
You hadn’t meant to get this way. You felt terrible. Like a monster. You'd never meant to make him feel this way.
A bitter laugh left him, “ I can’t tell.” 
Looking at you he could see that you felt bad and once your tears began rolling,  he felt his eyes begin to feel moist.
" Baby...." He dragged out trying to keep the strain against his voice small, " We're not even making love anymore. The last time you let me touch you was almost a month ago. A-and before that we could barely keep our hands off each other." He painfully pointed out thinking about all the passionate love making the two of had been doing. You used to joke around with him and tease that he had to be part energizer bunny because he never needed a recharge.
But nonetheless it was true.
You'd been avoiding him, and tucking yourself away while you tried to figure out what you were going to do.
Doing little things like wearing loose clothes even to bed when he knew you preferred to be near naked most times. When he'd offer shower with you, you'd always politely decline brushing it off as you were just going to be in and out. You put space between the two of you when you watched shows or ate dinner. Austin had taken note of it all, and while he had been trying to give you some space and be supportive. But he feared he was at the end of his rope.
But still you couldn't find the voice to say anything back to him, and this unfortunately heighten his emotions so bad that he said the unthinkable.
" You know what cut the shit, Y/N! " Austin sighed placing his hands into his face. " Who is he? " Austin accused feeling like you'd just been struck in the chest.
" E-excuse me." You gawked in disbelief at what your fiancée was shockingly insinuating. He had to know better than even letting a passing thought like that enter his mind.
" You heard me. Who is he? " He repeated with more attitude. " Because whatever you're not getting here you gotta be getting somewhere, right? It's Lucas isn't it?" He sourly threw out the name of the name of your friend who'd been helping with your photography classes you'd enrolled in. The same Lucas from the night at Alana's party that had tried to get extra friendly with you. “ You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” The words thrown out like venom.
You felt you heart race prompting you to rest a hand on your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But no much how much steady breathing you practiced, it wouldn't help stop the tears that began cascading down your face, " Austin...H-how could you even think that. No! There isn't anyone else. Not Lucas..not anyone!" " You choked out in disbelief full on crying now.
Raising his head to look at you he sighed, " Ah hell, Y/N." He mumbled in discontent at seeing you cry the way you were. He hated when you cried. " I don't know what to think at this point! This isn't like us. This isn't like YOU."
You nodded feverishly trying to calm down, " I know...I-I just don't feel like myself, Austin." You half confessed being sure to leave out the major components of why.
" Okay, I understand. And I absolutely hate that your feeling that way. But I can't help you if I don't know what's going on. Can please you tell me what's wrong. I wanna be here and help you. But you're shutting me out. Please." Austin pleaded looking at you intently, all he was asking was for something..really anything that you could tell him to steer him in the right direction. Because right now he felt lost.
Biting your lip to the point of near bloodshed and twiddling your thumbs you contemplated just spilling your guts and telling him right then and there, but the little voice in your head agonizingly sniping at your thoughts wouldn’t allow it.
If you tell him now it becomes real. And there isn't anything guaranteeing that he'll be happy. I mean you told him about your childhood, why would he want someone damaged like you to raise a child with.
Who would want you as a mother?
Feeling like the walls were caving in you just barely spoke, " Austin. I want to....But I can't.... I just can't."
The words had come out.
And now you had to painfully watch as his face fall at your response. It was like you could see a little embers of hope die behind his eyes, and it broke your heart even more to watch as he sniffled up what would have been a stray tear.
When he responded his voice sounded taut, " You know when we first started dating and we played that game with all the questions. And I asked you to describe our relationship in three words. One of the words YOU specifically picked was honest." Austin reminisced reminding you both of the happier time. He took a second to breath until his glossy eyes met yours in a intense lock, " W-when did that change?"
Once he finished, he then proceed to back away from you softly wrenching the bedroom door open, he casted you one more look before closing it behind him.  Leaving you to shakily lay yourself down on the bed and wrap yourself in the covers to ensue in a good old fashion sob out.
That night for the first time since the two of you had gotten engaged and moved into the loft you'd sleep alone in your king size bed. You heard when the guest bedroom had opened and closed. This only made you cry more.
You felt cold. And not just because the usual warmth Austin gave off holding you in the night wasn't present, but really because it was as if you were standing in the middle of nowhere with no shelter and no place to turn.
You felt alone.
In the wee hours of the morning while your fought yourself in and out of sleep you'd heard the bedroom slowly creep open. With your back to the room you listened as he moved about the bathroom and the closet in what you knew was him getting ready for the interview line up he had today for some of the precursors for award season.
You so badly wanted to turn around and call out for him. Apologize and explain everything a thousand times over. But still it felt like your body physically wouldn't move.
When he came out the final time, you could hear him come to his side of the bed and put something on the duvet. He sighed before turning around and back out the door closing it softly behind him. The alarm chime could be heard soon after and that's when you knew he was gone.
Slowly pulling yourself up to turn around. You hit the toggle for the lights and looked at the folded note that sat on his pillow.
You'd be laying if you said that your heart didn't fall to your ass. Was he leaving you?
Numbly you grabbed the note bracing yourself to take in it's contents.
Then you read it,
Dear Y/N,
I know that I already told you that I'd be out for most of the day today but I also wanted to let you know that when I get home I'll be retiring to the guest room.
I don't exactly know what's going right now but I just feel like I'm putting in so much effort into this relationship as of recent only to receive half of it back. And as a couple who recently got engaged..this worries me. I understand that you have a tough time opening up about certain things bothering you and that is completely understandable. But just what I don't understand is why your pulling back from opening up to me after all we've been through in two years of progression.
With that being said, for right now I think it'll be good if we just take some space. Hence why I'll be staying in the guestroom for a couple of days. Unless you're ready to talk in some type of honest capacity or there is some type of emergency, I ask that you please respect this boundary for the time being.
I love you, Y/N. And I know we can work at this and overcome whatever is going on.
But I badly need you to try.
I'll still be home in time to make dinner as normal and I'll leave you a plate in the microwave.
All my love always, forever, and beyond,
Austin.
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bcbdrums · 11 months ago
Text
Just Another Saturday
My @sesecretsanta gift for @sharks833! I have attempted humor and I hope you'll enjoy!!!
Double-posted here and on AO3.
--------
It was Saturday. Soul knew this because it was the heat of the sun that woke him that morning rather than his alarm clock as it crested the opposing building on the street and sent its bright rays in through his window.
He absently felt for the cord of his blinds, twisting it to block out the offending light, and then rolled over with a satisfied sigh. Next to the pillow his fingers tapped out the rhythm of a jazz piece that he'd had stuck in his head for a few days as he let the comfortable feeling of the weekend slowly wake him up, starting with the smell of something sweet, doughy, and greasy coming from the kitchen.
Donuts. And something else. Was Maka making donuts?
The curiosity was almost enough to drag him up, but he would take a few extra minutes to laze in bed. And truly he could take as long as he wanted. It had been a long time since he'd been able to relax like this in the apartment and not be watching his back for witchy cats that had no sense of personal space.
There was a light rapping on his door.
"Knock knock!"
"Come in," Soul answered, sitting up and tugging at his t-shirt to straighten it.
Maka opened the door just enough to peek in with a cheery smile.
"If you sleep too long, it'll be lunch time," she teased.
"Aren't we going to Kid's place for lunch?"
"I'm surprised you remembered," Maka commented. "There's fresh donuts and omelets out here."
"I'm coming," Soul said with feigned annoyance as Maka walked away, leaving the door ajar. Soul hurried to get some pants on as the scents began to make his mouth water.
"Seems like you've been sleeping a lot better lately," Maka called back.
Soul smiled his agreement even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah, well when you don't have a crazy cat who belongs in a centerfold jumping on you in the morning..."
"I wonder what happened to her," was Maka's distant reply, and Soul considered the matter for himself. Their feline squatter had been gone for more than two months, and while they couldn't help but be concerned, frustrating hormones aside, she was still their cat.
"Do you think we should put up lost cat signs?" Maka continued as Soul passed from his bedroom into the kitchen. The tiny dinette set already had breakfast laid out for two, with napkins neatly folded under their forks and even a fresh-cut flower in a vase in the middle of the table. Soul took this in as he pondered Maka's words.
"Maybe, but should they have a picture of her as a cat or as a human?" he mused as he reached for the milk carton, but Maka beat him to it.
He sat down as she poured his glass for him, and an involuntary warmth found its way to his face. None of what Maka did was pampering, really. It was just normal stuff. And yet it made him feel like she was giving him special attention.
"Probably both..." Maka said as she put away the milk and joined Soul at the table, though her brow had pinched in the middle.
"I know which photo would get more attention," Soul added.
"Of course you would say that," Maka replied quickly, and Soul noticed her jaw had tensed. The warmth in his cheeks faded, but he was determined not to let irritation take its place. He kept his voice level as he continued.
"Maka, think about it. We put up a picture of Blair as a human with a really big phone number, and then underneath that we—"
"Never mind, we don't need posters," Maka interrupted. "Eat your donut before it gets cold."
Soul looked down at the plate. The omelet was near-perfect in both the folding and the even color of its cook. He could see tiny chopped pieces of bacon and scallion cooked into the egg, as well as shining ribbons where shredded cheese had been melted in during the last minute. He knew there was more stuff hidden in there, chopped finely the way he liked it.
The word pampering flitted through his head again but he set the thought aside as he looked at the glistening prize that sat next to the omelet. The donut was perfectly round and puffed—Kid would approve—and the translucent sugar glaze was still dripping warm down its curves.
Soul heard a slight smacking and looked up to where Maka had her pinky finger in her mouth, slowly sucking the sticky glaze off. He glanced to her plate where the donut showed a single bite taken, and then back up as she slowly licked her fingers clean one at a time, her smiling eyes fixed upon his.
Soul grabbed his fork and knife as the warmth returned to his cheeks like a flame.
And Maka thought Blair was a distraction.
"Sheesh, you don't have to eat so messy," he said, cutting into the donut and turning his nose up slightly as he forked a small, manageable piece into his mouth. His next words were muffled through his chewing. "Have a little class."
"And I should take lessons from you?" Maka said before making a second pass over each of her fingers. Soul caught a brief glimpse of her tongue before the pink of her lips sealed tightly around one finger to suck the remaining sugar off.
Soul glared down at his plate.
"If we wanna have a good time at Kid's later, you'd better remember some manners."
Before Maka could reply, a soft but clear mew stopped both of them in their thoughts. They made eye contact briefly before both rising from the table and hurrying toward the source of the sound, which was definitely Soul's bedroom.
Their rush through the doorway was abruptly halted as a very tiny kitten stood in the middle of the floor. It was very young, its eyes still baby blue and ears and paws too large for its body, and the over-long baby fur was a striking deep red. The tiny thing caught sight of them instantly, let out another mew, and began toddling toward them.
"Butternut!" a familiar voice called from somewhere nearby, but hidden low, "come back here!"
Maka and Soul watched the tiny kitten continue toward them, its pokey tail standing straight up as it lost its footing each time it tried to lift its eyes from the carpet to the two astonished humans, and then the source of the voice made herself known. Blair appeared from the dark recesses beneath Soul's bed and hurried to stop the kitten from wandering too far.
"Sorry!" she declared, looking up at Soul and Maka from under her hat. "I shouldn't have brought them here so young but it just wasn't safe anywhere else. They're getting too curious."
"'They'?" Soul said unnecessarily, the answer obvious, and then as if in reply four more tiny red balls of fur tottered out from under the bed after Blair.
"Meow! Well, I guess it's time for introductions! Meet Butternut, Sugar, Blaze, Harvest, and Jack. I named them all after pumpkins!"
Maka knelt down to receive the curious litter as they all scampered unsteadily forward, beginning to climb her jeans and up into her lap as she giggled. Soul stared in bewilderment, wondering when the tricky feline had sneaked the litter in without his knowing.
That question led to a flurry of secondary thoughts, wondering if there was now a mess under his bed that he needed to be concerned about and what on earth they were going to do with the litter as kittens reaching the mobile age with their claws would be the destruction of all his possessions.
"They're so sweet!" Maka declared, holding one up to her cheek to cuddle.
One of the kittens crawled atop Soul's sock-clad foot, and he sat on the bed to reach down and detach the tiny, needle-like claws that had gone into his skin.
"So this is where you've been... We'll have to get a bigger cat bed," Maka continued as Soul managed to remove the kitten from his foot only to have it somehow dig the claws of all four paws into his hand and wrist. It mewed in protest as he picked it up and tried to extricate himself, latching onto his arm instead.
"If she's gonna make a habit of this maybe we should get her fixed— Hey!"
One tiny claw ripped a red line across the top of Soul's forearm, red immediately appearing amid coarse white hairs, and he missed whatever it was Maka and Blair both said in opposition to his annoyed comment.
"Blair, can you get this uh...Butternut off of me?"
"That's Harvest," Blair said, hopping up on the bed and deftly picking the kitten off of Soul's arm with her teeth.
"Thanks," Soul said in relief, looking at the small dots of blood beginning to seep out in a line across his skin.
"So who's the lucky cat?" Maka said, taking the kitten from Blair and holding it up to her face. Soul marveled at how she could nuzzle the tiny creature without receiving a single scratch. It even gave her nose a curious lick, and Soul stared in exasperation. Maybe he just wasn't the type of person cats liked.
"A cat!?" Blair laughed, hopping into Soul's lap. In a flash she'd transformed, and Soul grunted as he was suddenly bearing all of her weight as she put her arms around him, his chin uncomfortably sat upon her ample bosom. She purred and rubbed her cheek to his as she continued. "Well, I suppose it could have been a cat. But that's not where my preferences lie."
Soul's mind had gone blank with the combined shock of the scratches, the sudden presence of the woman deeper in his personal space than he knew how to handle, and the implications of her words that by the look on Maka's face were clearly being interpreted exactly one way. And he found his tongue paralyzed to protest as her face went red and combustion was surely imminent.
"Soul!"
Her voice was rough as she screeched his name, a mixture of fury and horror.
"Maka!" he started to protest, but his words were cut off as Blair pushed her chest up into his face with a giggle. He suddenly found breathing to be as much a concern as explaining to Maka that she had it all wrong, that he would definitely remember if he had anything to do with the army of tiny daggers that were starting to make their way up his pant leg, mewing for their mother all the way.
"How could you!?" Maka fumed, looking near to tears even as she still cradled one of the kittens, her eyes darting between his face and the creature of dubious origin.
"No, you've got it all wrong!" he gasped as he tried to wriggle away from the cat-lady's grasp. "I've never—!"
His words were cut off as a book flew through the space between them and hit him square in the face. Blair let go with a small meow of surprise, shifting off of his lap, and Soul slid helplessly to the floor. His nose throbbed with hot pain from the impact and he blinked his vision back into focus as the kitten that had climbed his leg dug its claws into his thigh.
"Oww!" he finally whined, both in protest to the dangerous ball of fluff and for the frustration of the situation. Why did Blair have to vanish for two months only to come back and give Maka creepy ideas in less than a minute?
"Soul!" Maka said again, but this time her fury was laced with the cold edge of threat. Soul was torn between attempting another defense, fleeing, or simply accepting his fate despite the fact he was innocent.
But fate was kind as suddenly Blair spoke up and became his salvation.
"Oh, no silly. They're the spitting image of their father!"
Soul watched the blind rage fade from Maka's eyes to be slowly replaced by confusion. The kitten on his leg tumbled down into his lap and then to the floor, where it tottered over to join its siblings near his meister's folded knees. He stared dully at the kittens, faintly recalling the pumpkin-inspired names Blair had mentioned as his mind replayed her words and he really looked at the litter.
Spitting image of their father. Rich, very red fur.
Soul saw the realization hit Maka at the same moment it hit him, and their eyes met in shock.
"No... No way..." Soul said, completely disbelieving. Death Scythe may be a lot of things, but this...
"Meet your new siblings, Maka!" Blair said exuberantly, kneeling next to Soul to scoop up two of her brood and hold them up in front of the meister with a coy smile.
Soul's breath caught as he watched Maka's face, suddenly unable to read her expression. Her eyes had gone frighteningly void, but the slow furrowing of her brow and the tensing of her jaw signaled a rage far greater than what she had expressed toward him moments ago.
"Soul," she said crisply, her vocabulary having apparently been reduced to just his name.
Soul reached up to rub his aching nose, crossing his eyes to see the red mark appearing there. "So...should I call Kid and tell him lunch is off?"
Maka gently moved the kittens away from her and rose without a word to stalk out of the room. Soul simply stared after her until the feeling of claws against his foot startled him back to awareness.
Blair lifted the kitten away from him, for which he was grateful, but then cringed when she brought it up to her lips and gave a lick. He wondered, if they were truly part magic cat and part demon weapon, would they end up with powers and various transformational abilities?
The mental image of the kittens' claws turning into scythes caused him to lean even further away as Blair transformed back into a cat, seemingly having decided to bathe her brood.
"Soul." Maka's voice startled him from the doorway, and he turned to see that she had rapidly changed into her preferred battle attire. He knew what that meant.
"Or maybe I'll just send Kid a text message," he muttered as he stumbled to his feet as Maka turned to leave. A hoodie and headband would make him look more presentable, he thought, grabbing the two items as he scrambled after his meister.
He wished he'd had time to eat as his stomach began turning at the thought of the imminent confrontation with Death Scythe. And then as an afterthought after pushing his feet into his shoes, he grabbed the plate of donuts off the counter. It was going to be a very interesting weekend... He would take tiny pieces of relief where he could find them.
"Hey, Maka," he called as he hurried out of the apartment after her. "Do you want a donut?"
Back in the doorway of Soul's bedroom, Blair and the stumbling balls of gangly limbs were staring after the two humans in confusion.
"Meow? I thought she would like some siblings..."
Blair looked at her kittens and their fluffy red fur, assessing them as they played.
"Should I tell her about Fish-Shop Guy's red cat? I did have a lot of his catnip that night... Meowh-well, maybe later!"
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separatist-apologist · 2 years ago
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What are some of your favorite fanfics? You can only include up to 2 LB fics
I was going to wait to answer this in the morning because it's so daunting an ask. But I have to be in office tomorrow and I know I won't have the time, and then I'll forget about this. It's been a long time since anyone asked me my personal favorites.
I put some of them in yesterday's list of elucien recs, so definitely start here. I have to cross post a little, though. None of these are in order, this is actually not a ranking but the opposite of a ranking in which every one is incredible, and written by very wonderful people worth following.
playgirl, by @damedechance. I love this fic. Lucien has an only fans, Elain moderates his chat. She was the first gwynriel writer I ever read. You know I'm weird about Azriel- I don't really enjoy him, but in bookclub, her fic was being recommended CONSTANTLY and I gave it a shot thinking I'd hate it, and she made me insane. The gwynriel fic is Things You Can't Have, and I suggest reading it, too.
Latch, My Fate is Yours; Latch, My Very Soul is Yours by @labellefleur-sauvage. Elucien mummy au and so beautifully done. The author is also an VERY funny person and I recommend anything she writes (such as her 1920's Neris fic And All That Jazz) on vibes alone.
Our Bodies, Possessed By Light @iftheshoef1tz. Azris at its FINEST. If you like Azriel and Eris as a pairing, and you want something that is both achingly beautiful and well-plotted, this is it. This is the fic. Honestly, even if you don't want that, you should read it anyway. It's sexy, it's funny, it's emotional and it's poetic. I think about this fic (the cabin specifically because I'm slutty) all the time.
Crimson Clover, by @thesistersarcheron. Baby's first elriel fic, I heard the sentence "Elain covered in blood" and dropped everything I was doing to learn more. Elain is, in fact, covered in blood and Azriel is pretty insane about it. This author also has a fic bookclub is obsessed with, Viciousness & Intelligence which is Nesta x Cassian x Azriel in a poly bond and another of my personal favorites, Bejeweled in which Feyre is Night Court fae made entirely of jewels and Rhys is...well...down bad as he always is.
Embers, by @ultadverb is my favorite Morlain fic in the fandom. It's so richly written and such a good exploration of Elain and her feelings. She really does Elain such justice. I have it on VERY good authority she's also working on a little monster elucien, and right after I typed that I saw she's actually posted the first chapter, Seven Tears for the Sea, which is selkie Lucien, coastal Elain, I believe. I will be reading that for sure, just as soon as I finish this list, but everyone else should too!
I Believe the Word You're Looking for is "Friends" by @kingofsummer93. Truly Elucien 101 required reading. It's actually on the made-up syllabus I just created in my mind. If you're wanting to settle into a long fic, canon-compliant, adventure fic, THIS is it. Also, people are always asking for BOE smut, well she has so GRACIOUSLY provided it with The Intimacy of Being Understood
Remember, We're Madly In Love by @velidewrites. Have you ever seen one of those really gorgeous mood boards floating around and asked yourself, is that person also an incredibly sexy writer, too? Well I'm here to answer that question with a resounding YES. This is hunger games Feysand and if you've been thinking about reading it, stop thinking and start doing. I don't know when I became a sales person during this sharing of faves, but here we are I guess.
Vanserra Wildlife Rescue by @headcanonheadcase. In the haze that was elucien week, where everyone was creating and I was trying so hard to see all of it (and failing miserably), this fic was a gem. It's meet cute Elucien- he's a wildlife vet, she finds an injured fox. They're both on their way to a blind date (I wonder who they're meeting), and instead cancel to take care of the fox.
Can't Help It by @moodymelanist. This fic was literally why I decided to answer this anon. Nesta and Cassian are in a very toxic relationship but can't keep away from each other. I LOVE this fic, I love their dynamic and without spoiling it, there is a threesome I am still so deeply unwell about, even to this day.
Wonderland by @c-e-d-dreamer. The premise is SO GOOD. Nesta rejects the mating bond and Cassian rejects society. They reconnect later on, and the angst is SO DELICIOUS.
This list is getting really long- I could do this all day, actually. As for my top two @the-lonelybarricade favorites, which is cruel just fyi.
I'm gonna go with
You Look Like Bad News- Elain's neighbor has an annoying habit of fucking REALLY loudly next door.
And of course,
They Are The Hunters, We Are The Foxes, which is the best thing ever produced in the history of ever. Wonderland WHO? This is the shifter elucien romance we deserved, actually.
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