#an alluring vision that gravitates you towards her

[kisstoru]

if sukuna was a woman i don’t think i would be able to go on any longer

[sapphiremusings]

bride | vampire!aemond targaryen

cw: explicit smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dubcon, loss of virginity, breeding kink, blood drinking

Only the light from the full moon shines down between branches and leaves, illuminating her way as she walks through the forest rarely traveled. She doesn’t know how she got here, still in her shift and robe that has been thrown over her shoulders half-heartedly, the forest floor crunching underneath her slippers, yet an unknown force seemingly presses her forward. Her mind is in a daze, heart thrumming against her chest sporadically and her ears feeling as if they are under water, and through her vision is a fog that refuses to leave, no matter how many times she rubs her eyes. Up ahead, through the heavy brush, sits the abandoned castle that was once called Harrenhal, an accursed place in history. Steadily, she makes her way towards it.

Harrenhal is a mighty fortress, once home to many great houses of Westeros, all in which were struck down by unforeseen tragedies. Whispers of its twisting halls being cursed, haunted by those that died within, scattered throughout the Riverlands, and all along Westeros, until the castle was abandoned. Now, it sits alone, stone burned dark from the days when dragons ruled the skies and their riders sat on the old Iron Throne.

Centuries have passed since then, yet Harrenhal remains the same, merely overgrown in its shrubbery and the vines that trail up its walls. The steady rhythm of her heart begins to speed up as she walks through the courtyard, eyes averting away from the blood stained ground, up towards a window at the very top of the castle, where a single light shines. Like a moth to a flame, she gravitates towards it.

Inside, it’s dark, and she finds herself walking through cobwebs, past open windows that let the cold air in, and up a large number of stairs, until finally, the lit room sits at the end of the hallway. Slowly, her footsteps creek along the floor, her spine tingling at the whisper that enters her ears and swells within her head; “Come to me.”

Her fingers reach out to touch the ancient wood of the door, which sits open just a crack, its hinges squeaking as it opens fully beneath her push. The room is lit by what seems to be a hundred candles, scattered around and perched on almost every surface, including the floor. A large window draws her attention, and standing in front of it, a tall figure, as still as a statue.

He towers over her, even from her spot by the door, lean and strong in his posture. A sheath of silver hair gleams down his back, so beautiful and shiny that it looks like silk, and her hands itch to reach out and run their fingers through the long strands. Slowly, he cocks his head to the side, and her breath hitches as his side profile comes into view among the shadows.

“You’ve finally made it,” he muses, all strong nose and smirking lips, stained the color of roses. Suddenly, he turns, facing her stunned figure. He hums, head tilted. “Come now, bride.”

She thinks he is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Even with a scar that runs down the left side of his face, a glimmering sapphire within his missing eye’s socket. His other eye is an alluring shade of violet, though when he turns slightly, it looks almost red. He has a strong jaw and chin, skin porcelain and without color. He looks like a god.

He seems amused by her tied tongue, watching patiently as she tries to form a sentence. When she does, it comes out in a whisper. “Who are you?”

Quickly, so much so that her head spins and she stumbles back, he stands before her, close enough that she can touch him if she merely lifts her hand. He hums, his own hand coming up to run a finger down her cheek, the sharpened nail leaving a small streak of red on the flushed skin. His single eye studies her features, thumb resting under her chin as he tilts her head back, her lips agape. He smiles.

“My name…” he pauses, dipping his head lower, his cold breath fanning across her face, “is Aemond, and I have waited a millenia for you, ābrazȳrys.” (Wife).

The strange word echoed around in her head, and she knew it for High Valyrian, the old language of the dragonlords that once ruled over Westeros with fire and blood, hailed from the kingdom of Old Valyria. Her father is a scholar, one with an interest in history, and she had grown up learning about the years before, from before there were even the Seven Kingdoms. Tales of forest children and the First Men, of the Andals and the ice creatures, were all stories she was told at bedtime.

And then there is his name. Aemond. Another Valyrian name, one she had only heard once. Centuries ago, the ruling House Targaryen was torn to shreds when kin began to fight kin, and their dragons danced among a burning sky. There had been a particular prince that had caught her eye, a one-eyed kinslayer who rode the largest dragon in the world. When the war ended, the cruel Targaryen prince had vanished, and rumors swirled in his wake. Most believe he had succumbed to his uncle, a rogue prince who had a fiery vengeance. Some wonder about his paramour, a so-called witch that had lived in the same abandoned castle she was standing in now.

Her mind reeled over the possibilities. Could he be the long lost prince? After all this time? She knows it is not possible, for too much time has passed, yet he stands before her all the same. Cautiously, she reaches her hand out, resting it against his chest, breath catching within her throat at the stillness beneath his ribs.

He isn't breathing. His heart isn’t beating. It is as if he is a statue, carved from stone.

He gazes down at her, curious. Her voice comes out in a stutter. “H-how…? I don’t understand.”

His other hand encircles her own, pressing it tighter against him, eye fluttering closed as he begins to trace it up his chest, bringing it to his nose. He inhales, nose pressed to her wrist, pulse pounding under a web of blue veins. Her own eyes threaten to close, overwhelmed at the feeling of warmth that overcomes her, traveling from her head to the pit of her stomach, where it goes to rest between her quivering thighs.

He presses his lips to the same spot, opening his eye to peer up at her flushed expression. “You smell so sweet, my love.”

Her head spins, and she sucks in a sharp breath as he begins to kiss down the length of her arm, the silk sleeve of her robe lifting to rest in the crook of her elbow. When his lips reach the fabric, he moves to her shoulder, which the robe has fallen down from, leaving the bare skin exposed. At the nape of her neck, his tongue, surprisingly hot, darts out to lick at her pulse.

“Please,” she murmurs, head tilting to the side and her hands reaching out to grab at his tunic, pulling him closer.

“I am never letting you go, dōna riña,” Aemond muses, moving to press his lips against her jaw. “No, you were born to be my bride, and I shall take what belongs to me.” (Sweet girl).

Cold hands ruck up the skirt of her nightgown, caressing the soft skin of her thighs, which are covered in goosebumps as they shiver in desire. Some part of her is ringing an alarm bell, for she doesn’t yet know how she got here nor why she is here, or even how it is possible for this man… this being, to be before her. He has no beating heart, no working lungs, and though she knows it’s unfathomable, he is a Targaryen prince. With long silver hair and a single purple eye, she believes this in her heart.

Her thoughts come to a halt as long fingers curl under her soaked garment, touching her in a way no man has. A quiet gasp escapes from between her lips, mind at a stand still as his finger dips down to circle at her slick hole, pressing slightly but not yet entering. Instead, he moves to gather more of her arousal between his digits, thumb going to a spot that makes her jump, heart pounding against her heaving chest.

Aemond shushes her, a sweet coo leaving his smirking lips as he watches her with a hooded eye. His thumb rubs circles against that same spot, and a tight coil begins to turn within her stomach, nipples hardened to sharp peaks as she pants.

He brings his face down, forehead resting against her own. “Do you taste as sweet as you smell, ābrazȳrys?”

When she lets out a whimper, knees buckling from beneath her, he lets out a deep groan. Suddenly, with a force and speed that makes her dizzy, he is laying her down on the large bed that is against the wall, the velvet blankets smooth against her hot skin. Her nightgown is bunched up around her hips, robe long forgotten on the stone floor, along with her slippers. He kneels before her, fingers under the band of her undergarments, which he practically rips off her, tearing them down her legs.

“A-Aemond,” she whines, wanton as she writhes atop a sea of red velvet.

His nose nuzzles between her thatch of curls, tongue darting out to lick up her essence, which coats her entirely. Her back arches, hips wiggling away as a broken moan leaves her lips, but he merely throws an arm over her stomach, pressing down and locking her in place. Another moan is ripped from her throat, hands reaching down to nestle in his long strands, fingers curling around them and tugging. A deep rumble is heard within his chest, vibrating against her cunt, which pulses in return.

His tongue is ravenous as he laps up her arousal, swirling around that sensitive spot that makes her toes curl, before moving down to dip into her clenching hole. She leaks even more there, thighs shaking around his head as he pushes his tongue in deeper, until his face is pressed fully onto her weeping cunt. He groans, thrusting the muscle in and out, before retracting and bringing his fingers up to take its place. When his tongue lays flat against her and his finger eases its way through her tight entrance, she nearly screams as her head seems to explode, body vibrating in pleasure as the tightly wound coil in her stomach snaps.

Another finger joins the first, pumping into her steadily as she comes, feeling as if she is floating above her own body. Aemond starts to speak, but the words don’t process as her head buzzes, dazed in a pleasure she has never felt before. Whatever he says, her body clenches at, moving on its own accord with no way of her stopping it and regaining control. When she finally comes down, he doesn’t stop, continuing to lap at her quivering cunt, fingers beginning to curl upwards inside her, searching for a spot that they find almost immediately.

“My sweet, sweet bride,” he grins, resting his head against her thigh, mouth covered in her slick. “I want to lick this pretty cunt every day now. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

She whimpers and moans, tears prickling the corners of her eyes as another wave of pleasure begins to wash over her. He seems pleased by this, eye wide as it flickers between his fingers that are buried deep inside her and her flushed face. “Sȳz riña.” (Good girl).

He finally removes his fingers after her second peak, digits coated in her juices, which he brings up to her lips. Without a word, she opens her mouth, tongue swirling around them as she sucks, the taste of herself causing her blood to heat.

Aemond seems dazed as he stares down at her, member straining against his leathers. The sight both frightens and arouses her, her own mind still in the clouds and seemingly not coming down anytime soon. Slowly, cautiously, she reaches a hand out towards him. He grabs it, laying a kiss on her wrist once more, before moving to grab at her shift. She doesn’t stop him as he pulls it off her, leaving her naked under him. The drafty air of the old room brushes against her skin, and she shivers, nipples hardened and body covered in goosebumps.

His head bends and he wraps his lips around her right bud, hand grabbing at her left breast and squeezing. He’s heavy against her naked frame, the cold leather of his clothing feeling pleasant pressed along her flushed skin. She feels sticky all over, so unbearably hot that she presses herself closer to his odd coldness. He hushes her softly, lifting his head from her bosom and capturing her lips with his own. It’s messy, a clashing of tongues and teeth, and his rigid member feels like a hot iron against her thigh. Dazedly, she runs the tip of her tongue against his front teeth, gasping when a dull pain throbs throughout the wet muscle.

Aemond pulls back sharply, purple eye now a deep red, matching the crimson blood that stains his plush lips. Two sharp canines protrude from the top of his mouth, glimmering under the candlelight. His eye is focused on her lips, which hide her bleeding tongue from his view, and with a groan, he presses back against her, his own tongue forcing its way into her mouth. He caresses the small cut, licking up the blood that seeps from the wound, hands grabbing ahold of her tightly.

With a sigh that almost sounds like a growl, he pulls away so suddenly, and in a blink of an eye, he stands before her naked. Her eyes trail over his figure, porcelain in color and seemingly carved from stone. The light from the moon and the scattered candles create daunting shadows along his form, and through the fog of her mind, she realizes that she wants nothing more than to touch him. She sits up, reaching her hands out towards him, and he complies with her silent request, leaning down to allow her to explore. He watches with a curious eye, still red in color, as her fingers dance along his shoulders and down his chest, brushing over his pink nipples and his lean muscles.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmurs, bringing her lips to kiss the spot where his heart should rest, holding her breath when no heartbeat is felt.

As if reading her thoughts, he pushes her back down against the bed, and her eyes are immediately drawn to between his thighs. A twinge of fear rushes through her at the sight of his hardened cock, its head flushed pink with thick veins that curl up its side. She has never seen one before, still a maiden, waiting for her father to betroth her to whichever man he deems worthy. But she feels as if Aemond’s is too large.

His lips curl into a smirk at her wide eyed gaze, bringing himself forward to lean over her, his silver hair falling around them like a curtain. His body, still cold and heavy against her, like a stone wall. She tenses as his hand goes between them, grasping his member in his palm and lining himself up against her entrance. Once again, his gaze is dark, brows furrowed and jaw tense as he runs the tip up and down her leaking seam, nudging that special spot that makes her spine jolt.

“You are mine, riñītsos. Mine to claim, mine to fuck,” he hisses as his tip begins to press into her tight hole, arms straining to hold himself above her shaking frame. “Mine to breed. Kesan dōrī ivestragī jā.” (Little one), (I will never let you go).

A broken sob leaves her lips as he pushes forward, a sharp pain settling deep between her legs, which only grows the farther he goes inside her. She begins to shake her head, pushing her palms against his shoulders with a moan. “It’s too big… it won’t fit!”

“Shhh,” he hushes her sweetly, lips coming to kiss along her ruddy cheeks. “Don’t worry, dōna riña. I’ll make it fit. You were made for this… for me.”

Her vision is clouded as she nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck, wrapping herself around him and clinging onto him as the pain slowly ebbs away, turning into something entirely different. When he’s sat completely inside her, a wanton moan leaves her lips at the fullness, her head vibrating as she gasps up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath among the surging pleasure that begins to make its way through every nerve. Her hips begin to cant upwards, the slickness of her arousal helping her to slide against his cock, her fingers gripping tightly to strands of his hair.

“Please…” she whines, nearly sobbing.

He hums, lifting himself up as he begins to move his hips, creating a steady rhythm as his hands grab ahold of her waist. She is tiny below him, so much so that he can see the outline of his cock in her stomach, a sight that makes him groan and speed up, balls tightening in pleasure as her wet heat squeezes him. He eyes her thundering pulse at the base of her neck, his fangs beginning to ache and his throat going dry. His thrusts grow harsher, fingers digging into her flesh as she cries out beneath him.

“Kostagon nyke angogon ao, ābrazȳrys? Kessa ao ivestragī aōha valzȳrys mōzugon hen ao?” (Can I bite you, wife? Will you let your husband drink from you?)

His words come out in a mix between whiny and growling, teeth gritting as he leans down towards her open neck. Though she doesn’t quite understand what he said, only knowing a few words in Valyrian, the neediness in his tone has her back arching, and she greedily pulls him closer. Some submissive part of her wants nothing more than to please him, to give him all he desires and more. She gasps out a small “please.”

He nuzzles his nose under her jaw, rubbing against her pulse as his hips slow down, his thirst growing immensely. He brushes the tips of his fangs against her vein, thrusting his cock deep inside her, before biting down, eye rolling to the back of his head as warm blood spills down into his mouth. He moans, hips stuttering, pulling her as close as he can until they are flushed against each other, listening to her whimpers. She scratches her nails down his back, her cunt pulsing around his heavy cock as her blood flows from her vein, dizzy in her pleasure and loss of blood.

She tastes of the finest ambrosia, rich against his tongue and tingling his tastebuds, and his cock seems to swell in size as he cradles her in his arms, fangs imbedded into her neck. Her vision blurs, the rising wave of her arousal coming to a peak, and she nearly screams out as his hand slides between their stuck bodies, fingers circling at the throbbing bud at the apex of her cunt. His cockhead pounds steadily against a rough patch within in, and he doesn’t let up on his assault as the wave crashes over her, drowning her. She gasps for air, everything silent except for the beating of her heart and the slurping of Aemond’s tongue lapping at her lifesource.

“Sȳz riña,” his own peak begins to wash over him, lips murmuring against her neck and between sips of blood. “Iksā vok. Ñuha vok ābrazȳrys.” (You are perfect. My perfect wife).

With one last groan, he fills her with his seed, taking one last gulp of her before ripping himself away, mouth open against her wound as he pants. His tongue begins to lick at the two points, saliva coating them and slowly healing the marred skin. She is barely awake beneath him, exhausted from her pleasure, yet the sound of his voice and the feeling of his seed hot against her womb makes her throb all over again. She leaves wet kisses along his shoulders and chest, relishing in the feeling of him pressed against her, sweaty in the aftermath of their love making.

Slowly, he pulls out of her, cock only slightly soft, ready for another round. He feels as if he could spend an eternity between her legs, pounding into her tight, wet cunt and breeding her over and over again. For a moment, he has a thought to chain her to this very bed, his obedient little bride. He wants to lap at her sweet blood and lick up the essence of her, until every part of her is claimed. When his seed begins to seep out of her used hole, he brings two fingers to plug into her, refusing to let any of himself leave her. He smiles at her adoring expression.

“Will you marry me now, my lord?”

Aemond brings his coated fingers to her lips for the second time that night, humming in delight when she sucks on them, tongue swirling around and licking up every last drop of their combined arousal.

“Yes, my love. And when the time is right, I will turn you into my eternal bride.”

[merylstreepsworld]

Exploring Desires

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Fem!reader

Word count: 1,361

Summary: Miranda Priestly finds herself irresistibly drawn to you. So she finds ways to cope and explore herself.

Warning: Self pleasure

You never expected to find yourself in the world of high fashion photography, yet here you were, standing on a bustling studio set, camera in hand, working on a shoot for none other than Miranda Priestly's Runway magazine. It was a surreal experience, to say the least, and one that had brought its own set of challenges and pressures. From the moment you had been assigned to this shoot, you couldn't help but notice the enigmatic figure that was Miranda Priestly. Her presence was magnetic, her every word and gesture commanding the attention of everyone around her. She was as formidable as she was legendary, a true force in the fashion industry.

As a photographer, your focus had always been on capturing the essence of the models and the designs they wore. However, with Miranda on set, your lens seemed to gravitate toward her more often than not. There was something about her that drew your attention, an inexplicable allure that you couldn't ignore.

You watched as she moved with effortless grace, her sharp eyes surveying every detail of the shoot. She had an uncanny ability to detect the slightest imperfection and demand perfection with a single glance. It was both intimidating and awe-inspiring.

Days turned into weeks, the first shoot ended and another began with the precision and dedication that was expected of a Runway production. You found yourself working closely with Miranda, discussing shots and angles, striving to capture her vision. The more time you spent in her presence, the more you felt an unspoken connection between you two. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt for Miranda, though it left you feeling conflicted. She was your boss, a legendary figure in the fashion world, and you were just a photographer trying to make a name for yourself. The idea of anything beyond a professional relationship seemed impossible and unwise.

Miranda, too, was grappling with unfamiliar emotions. She had built her career on control and precision, and yet, something about you had disrupted her carefully constructed world. She couldn't understand why she found herself seeking your company, why she was drawn to your presence on set.

As the days of the fashion shoot progressed, Miranda found herself inexplicably drawn to you, the photographer assigned to capture her vision. It began as a mere curiosity, an acknowledgment of your talent behind the lens. But soon, something deeper stirred within her, something she couldn't quite fathom.

However, as time passed, the attraction grew, gnawing at her from the inside. She would catch herself stealing more than just glances, her eyes lingering on you for longer moments than deemed necessary. It was unsettling, this uncontrollable desire that seemed to have taken root in her heart. Miranda had always been in control of her emotions, her desires, her entire existence. But this... this was different. This was consuming her every waking thought, turning her into a person she didn't recognize. She found herself daydreaming about you, about the moments you shared on set, about the warmth of your smile and the sound of your laughter.

Miranda's days were consumed by the demands of her high-powered career, her responsibilities at Runway magazine, and the enigma of her growing attraction to you, the photographer who had become an irresistible presence in her life. Yet, it wasn't just her waking hours that were plagued by thoughts of you.

Nights became a battleground where her desire for you waged war with her carefully cultivated control. Alone in her opulent bedroom, she would lie in the darkness, her thoughts invariably drifting toward you. The memory of your laughter, your smile, and the way your eyes met hers across the studio would haunt her.

Her hands wandered further, fingertips dipping beneath the edge of her silk robe to explore the contours of her chest. Miranda's breath hitched as she imagined your hands taking their place, your fingers gently teasing and tantalizing her, igniting a fervor she could no longer deny.

With the grace of a seasoned seductress, she began to trace a path of arousal upon her own skin, her fingertips caressing the sensitive spots that ignited her most profound desires. The gentlest of touches would send ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, as if your phantom hands were guiding her. Her breath grew labored and uneven as she continued to surrender to the vivid images in her mind. Miranda's lips, once so cool and poised, now trembled with the ghostly sensation of your kisses. She longed for the sensation of your mouth upon hers, the taste of your passion igniting her senses.

As her desire surged, her hands ventured lower still, slipping beneath the soft fabric of her lingerie. The delicate lace yielded to her touch, granting her access to the secret world of her desire. She let out a shuddering breath as her fingers explored the heated intimacy she so craved. In the throes of her self-discovery, Miranda's hands became a reflection of the passion that burned within her. She imagined your presence beside her, your shared desire merging with her own, and the thought of your touch only fueled the intensity of her pursuit.

It was in these stolen moments of vulnerability that Miranda began to acknowledge the depth of her attraction to you, a realization that left her both exhilarated and bewildered. And as her fantasies melded with reality, she couldn't help but wonder if one day she would dare to bridge the chasm that separated them, to seek the fulfillment of her desires in your arms.

And yet, even in the midst of this internal struggle, she couldn't stay away. Miranda found herself seeking your company, craving your presence on set, yearning for those stolen moments when you were alone together. It was as if an invisible force had taken control, pushing her to the brink of her carefully constructed life. It was a tumultuous journey for Miranda, one she couldn't share with anyone. She was a woman who had always been in command of her world, but now she was navigating uncharted territory, and it both fascinated and terrified her. She questioned herself, her actions, her motives.

One evening, as the shoot wrapped up for the day, you found yourself alone with Miranda in the studio. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken tension, a palpable connection that neither of you could ignore. She looked at you, her eyes searching yours for answers, for clarity.

"I can't explain it," she admitted, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "There's something about you that... intrigues me."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of emotions that mirrored her own. "I feel it too," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. Miranda took a step closer, her hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. Her lips met yours in a passionate kiss, a fusion of desire and uncertainty. In that moment, the barriers that had separated you both came crashing down, and you surrendered to the magnetic pull of your attraction.

As the days turned into weeks and your affair with Miranda continued in secret, you both found solace and passion in each other's arms. It was a love affair that defied reason and defied expectations, a whirlwind of desire and longing that neither of you had anticipated.

But with each stolen moment together, you both knew that something had changed. Miranda, the epitome of control, had found herself consumed by a love that was anything but predictable. And you, the photographer thrust into the world of high fashion, had found a love that was both exhilarating and tumultuous.

Together, you navigated the complexities of your hidden romance, finding moments of happiness and intimacy amidst the chaos of the fashion world. It was a love affair that would forever alter the course of your lives, leaving an indelible mark on your hearts and souls.

In the end, you couldn't explain the attraction that had brought you together, but you both knew that it was a force too powerful to resist. And as you looked into each other's eyes, you realized that love, in all its unpredictable and inexplicable forms, was a force that could not be denied.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built For Love Part 1 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: So this is the official series for MBJ x Charlotte (Famous Black OC) - this will include random moments in their relationship to see how they got to where they are… and I'll do random one-shots like I've been doing in between. Hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 3k

***

“Aye yo, Els! Charlotte!” 

Charlotte whipped around as she walked toward her car on set, finding Michael jogging up to her. The neutral expression on her face curled into a bright smile as he approached her. 

“Did you just call me Els?” She raised her eyebrow. She really only went by one nickname in her life: Charlie and that was reserved for family and friends. She certainly never went by her dreaded middle name, Elsbeth. She despised it, a gift from her absentee mother - whoever met a black girl named Elsbeth? Or any girl for that matter? 

“Yea… your middle name is Elsbeth right? Els for short?” 

She chuckled. “How’d you know that though? And what if I don’t like nicknames?” 

He shrugged and winked at her, causing her to blush a bit. “I’d never reveal my sources. And well… I figured you might make an exception for me?” 

Despite the look of faux annoyance on her face, she could not deny that the nickname had a certain allure on his lips. Well… a lot of things did if you asked her. 

She laughed, playing along with their flirtatious banter for a moment. “Yea… maybe. I might need some more convincing though, Mr. Jordan.” 

“Well let me start now. Let me take you to dinner? A congrats on finishing a long week on set.” 

Charlotte immediately shook her head, laughing nervously. “Thank you but I probably shouldn’t? Need to head home and start reviewing my lines for next week a-and everything.”

She actually did not have many lines to review at all. However, as luck should have it, she and Michael would be filming their intimate scene during the next week. And though Charlotte did not want to show it, it made her anxiety skyrocket. So her vision for the evening was to merely sit at home with a glass of wine and wallow in her anxieties about the upcoming week. But she could not tell Michael that. 

She also would not hate the time to just decompress. Though she had been acting since she graduated from Juilliard, somehow this terrain felt different and more exhausting. She had only done her first tv role a few months before signing on to play Bianca. 

He shook his head. “Come onnnn… You’re gonna be great next week and every day. You’re a natural. You gotta eat dinner right? And I won’t keep you out too late. Promise.”

She wrestled with her internal debate for a few moments. Common sense said she should say no. However, the side of her that was drawn to Michael like a moth to a flame, the side she did not quite understand, was much louder. 

“Fineeeeee… but only because I’m starving,” she added with a playful wink. 

A bright boyish grin took over his features as he led her to his car. Their car ride was filled with lively conversation as they recapped the day on set. She had only known Michael for a few months, had only spent considerable time with him in the last two weeks but something about him put her at ease with every conversation. Since their chemistry test, their banter was effortless and, she will admit, flirtatious but she did not think anything of the latter. Ryan told her that her co-star was a charmer… on screen and off. So she assumed that was just par for the course with him and nothing more. Her character was meant to fall in love with his but she knew they could not. 

But still, it did not stop them from gravitating toward each other all day on set or hanging out in each other’ trailers. Though theirs could never step outside of the bounds of friendship, Charlotte appreciated his commitment to developing a relationship with her outside of their characters. She felt it made their chemistry on screen even stronger. 

Soon, she found herself sitting across from Michael at a back corner booth of a steakhouse. It was late so there were few patrons in the space besides them, allowing both of them to feel more at ease about being in public. Charlotte knew no one would recognize her but Michael had been acting since he was a kid. And last thing she needed was rumors on the internet about them tomorrow. 

“So you've seen me work for a couple weeks, it's my first movie - got any tips for me, super star?” She asked after the waiter dropped off their drinks and took their order. 

He scoffed playfully. “As if you need tips from me.” 

“Why’d you say that?” 

He shrugged, taking a sip of his whisky neat. “You’re almost too good. I've been tryin’ to keep up with you.” 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she waved her hand to dismiss his compliment. 

He shook his head. “Nah… haven’t found another girl like you out here.” 

Charlotte looked away from him, his smolder overwhelming. She let out a nervous chuckle before leaving his statement to linger without a response. This is always were the she lost her nerve. Occasionally, he would utter something that made her think their banter was more intentional than she originally assumed. However, she never had the nerve to press it and see if that were true. There was not a world in which someone like him wanted to be with her. And she did not believe in setting herself up for rejection. 

Instead, she simply shook her head and offered him a small grin. “I imagine there are plenty of girls better than me out there.” 

Michael sighed. “I doubt it. So did you always want to act or?” 

Charlotte nodded and sat up a bit straighter, leaning on the table as she spoke. Michael could not help how her face lit up slightly when asked about her work. 

“Y-yea, ever since I saw Audra McDonald in Ragtime when I was younger… My family will tell you I had a flair for the dramatic longggg before then and I did school plays and stuff like that throughout middle and high school. But that was the moment that made me see it as a career, you know? A real possibility for my life. Went to Julliard and then started working on Broadway. I thought I’d do that for the rest of my life… you know musicals and plays. I wanted to be just like her.” Michael noticed how the ghost of a smile on her face as she remembered a past life turned into a frown, her eyes filling with longing and sorrow. “Life just took some unexpected turns when I… h-had to leave New York and move to LA so I switched to tv and movies but acting was always the plan.” 

Michael nodded along as she spoke, quietly noticing her chose of hers. “Had to leave New York,” as if something forced her out. He made a mental note to find out the true story behind that one of these days. 

She paused. “That or owning an ice cream shop.” 

He let out a hearty laugh as her last statement caught him off guard. “An ice cream shop was your back up plan?” 

“Of course. 1. There’s always a market - who doesn’t love ice cream? 2. No one is ever angry in an ice cream shop because it’s amazing. Perfect job honestly.” 

“Can’t argue with that logic. What’s your dream role?” 

“Elphaba… from Wicked,” she answered immediately. For her, there was no other role. “It won’t get me a Tony,” she admitted. “But it’s always been the dream.” 

“Why?” 

“I dunno… the character herself is perfectly written. So layered. And her songs are perfection. That show is a true masterpiece and it’s one of the biggest shows in the world.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately… under that green skin, the actresses don’t look like me. But that just makes me want it more.” She glanced up at him and noticed the way he was staring at her, immediately feeling self-conscious. She coughed and sat back. “S-sorry… here I am just going on and on about myself.” 

“Nah, nah you good. I asked and I like hearing about you.”

She raised her eyebrow in suspicion. “Really?” 

“Yea… what? You don’t like to talk about yourself?” 

“Ehh, nah, not really. Don’t want to bore you.” 

“I don’t think that’s a word I’d ever use to describe you.” 

Charlotte blushed, her nervousness forcing her eyes away from him and onto a painting across the dim dining room. She did not understand how or why he had this effect on her. But whatever he was doing, she did not want him to stop. 

“How’d you feel after today?” He asked, referencing their scene choreography session from earlier. "Ready for next week? I know those scenes are fucking awkward as hell.” 

“Ummm… y-yea yea totally ready,” she muttered, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit in to it lightly. 

“You nervous?” 

How did he fucking know that?

“What? No, why’d you say that?” 

He leaned forward, a curious expression painted on his face that Charlotte hated that she could not read. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous… o-or anxious I think? You were doing it when we met for our chemistry test… and on the first day of our table read. Right before our scenes all week. Today during our session.”

Charlotte tensed slightly, curious of how he noticed such a subtle tick, something that she thought she was doing a better job of hiding it from everyone. Her eyes fell from his to the table, frustration coursing through her at her own emotions, emotions she wished she had better control over. 

“You are hella observant,” she muttered under her breath as she fiddled with her napkin.

“I’m your scene partner… my job is to know you. And aint shit to be ashamed of. I get anxious too… a lot,” he admitted. 

“Really? You’ve been acting your whole life.” 

He chuckled, his finger drawing patterns in the condensation of his glass. “Yea and shit is still hard. I still doubt myself… still get nervous and shit that I won’t do well o-or will let people down. It helps to talk about it though.” He eyed her for a moment and then asked, “So what makes you nervous about it?” 

Charlotte studied him for a moment, her brain churning to figure out if she wanted to share her deep anxieties with him. It had been so long since she had been vulnerable with someone or confined about her anxieties with someone. She always feared their judgement and pity. And even though she did not know Michael that well, for some reason, she feared his judgement and pity more than anyone else. She could not understand why it mattered so much to her but she wanted him to see her as strong and assured, everything she was not really but tried to put on for the world. She wanted him to like the facade because who she really was did not seem worth his time. 

However, the part of her that craved vulnerability and a safe place to land freed and propelled the words from their cage in the depths of her soul. Something about him felt… safe. And in that moment, the feeling of safety with him felt like relaxing in the warmth of the sun. She wanted to lean into it, not run away from it. Even if it was only between two friends, she craved it and just could not turn away a rare bit of warmth in her cold life. 

“Well…” she chuckled nervously. “I feel so fuckin’ lame saying this but… I’ve never done a sex scene before? A-and I g-guess I just feel more self-conscious than I should. I know it’s just like every other scene but it’s so intimate and,” she shrugged. “A-and there’s shit from the past coming back u-“ she turned and stopped herself, she was getting too real with him now. “I d-dunno. A-and I’m just self conscious about the amount of people who’ll be watching? Like that’s so weird, right? I-I just feel like I'm gonna look stupid. Saying it out loud makes me feel really dumb.” 

He chuckled, ‘Nah it’s not dumb and honestly, this shit is awkward as fuck. We just met two months ago and even though its hella choreographed, there’s a level of trust and intimacy we have to share to sell it. So I think if you’ve never done that shit before, it’s more daunting than people would think.” 

“Thanks for not making me feel stupid about it. That does make me feel better.” 

“Never. Look, my job is also to make you feel as comfortable and safe as you can be in every scene but especially this one. We are gonna be as close as two coworkers can be, I wanna make sure you’re straight. So let me know what you need and I gotchu. I want you to trust me.”  

She smiled over the rim of her glass. 

“I do… trust you,” she responded definitively. And she was surprised at how deeply she felt that in her soul. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

***

“Cheers!” Michael offered as he and Charlotte clinked their wine glasses together, a half-empty bottle of red wine sitting on the coffee table of his living room. 

“What are we cheering too?” She asked as she took a sip of her wine. 

He shrugged. “I dunno… to movie set firsts? To finishing one of our hardest scenes?” 

“I like the sound of both of those! Cheers.” She took another sip before sitting her glass down and leaning back, her hand running through her faux locs she had installed for her character. “Thank you for today by the way. You made it super light a-and fun, shockingly.” 

He twisted his face up in faux offense. “Shockingly?? Ouch. I thought every moment with me was fun?” 

“You aight,” she winked at him before grabbing the bottle to refill her glass. “I was actually surprised at how few folks were on set also. The way Ryan talked when we first went over it, it seemed like the whole crew would be there.” 

At Michael’s silence, she eyed him suspiciously as he nodded and glanced off to the side, scratching the nape of his neck. 

“You know something about that?? Tell me!” 

“Alright fine, I wasn’t gonna tell you but I ain’t gon’ lie to you either. When you said you were nervous about people watching, I texted Ryan and asked him to close the set. I didn’t tell him you asked o-or were anxious about it,” he clarified as he watched the heat rise in her cheeks from embarrassment. “I j-just reminded him that it was your first time on a movie set a-and we shouldn’t assume you’ve done a scene like that before. I hope that’s ok? I’m sorry if I overstepped. Just wanted you to feel more comfortable.” 

Charlotte tilted her head as she studied him for a moment. Part of her thought she should be mad at him for making requests on her behalf but she wasn’t? She found the action maddeningly kind and endearing if anything. That he took her words to heart and actually tried to help her be more comfortable. That he was silently working behind the scenes to make her feel safe.

Michael took her silence for anger. “You’re upset. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I over-“ 

“N-no. Don’t apologize!” She let out a breathy chuckle before adding. “I’m not upset. It just…that just might be the sweetest thing a fellow actor has ever done for me.” She leaned over and squeezed his hand, the heat from his body warming her hand. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

He turned his hand over in hers and squeezed back, offering her a nod and smile. Charlotte’s eyes fell from his down to their connected fingers, heat rising in her at the simple touch. She felt it every time, even among the most innocent of touches, pure desire and electricity. Her mind drifted back to feeling his hands on her body earlier that day. The palms of his hands was rough and callous but today proved that his touch was anything but. It was strong and gentle. And she knew it was wrong but she left set today craving more of it, yearning for more of him.

Something in her snapped back to reality, forcing her to rip her hand from his quickly. She cleared her throat and busied herself with her glass of wine. 

“A-anytime,” he offered quietly, seeming equally as frazzled by their touch as she was. 

“I-I should head back to my apartment,” she whispered, deciding it was best to remove herself from his presence before she drank anymore wine and lost anymore of her sensibilities, which felt as if they were hanging on by a thread as it was. “T-Thanks for the wine.” 

“I’ll walk you out.” He stood and stretched lightly before walking her to his door. 

She slid on her shoes as he grabbed her coat from his closet. 

“Thank you again for today, seriously. You are the best scene partner a girl could ask for.” 

He closed the gap between them and wrapped her in a tight welcomed hug. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as his hugged around her waist. She knew this was the exact type of touching she was leaving to avoid. But for the briefest moment, she remembered what it was like to have intimacy with someone else, to feel secure and whole in their arms. 

They both lingered in their soft touches for longer than they should have. Charlotte let out a content sigh as he rubbed soothing circles on her back and held her, her forehead falling gently against his chest. 

She was the first to break their sweet, hidden moment, the high tide of longing in her building to places too strong to be contained. She couldn’t allow herself to fall any deeper into this - whatever it was - for a million different reasons. He would never reciprocate it and she would never deserve it if he did. Why bait misery? 

She lifted her head from his chest to stare at him, his grip around her body didn’t loosen or move. They just stared at each other. Before Charlotte could say a word, his lips were on hers. She didn’t return it at first, her whole body paralyzed from shock. But it only took a few seconds for her to return it fervently. 

There was a small arch in her back as their mouths explored each other for the first time. She could feel a cloud of desperation and need settling around them. She had kissed him before, however, this - without the mechanics of acting guiding them - felt entirely different. This was pure bliss, his lips casting a fog over her brain that stopped the formation of any thought unrelated to the man in front of her. His tongue danced with hers as they moaned lightly into each other’s mouths. She never wanted this moment to end. 

But it did. He leaned back briefly, a need for air overcoming his desire to consume the woman in front of him. He wanted all of her for the rest of his life. Michael had kissed many women in his life but none had ever felt like that before. He had tried his hardest to keep his feelings at bay, to give her space and not push. When he realized he wanted to pursue a real relationship with Charlotte, he vowed to wait until filming concluded so she would not feel obligated or pressured to date him. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. And some moments, he felt it so strongly and in others, he felt her pull away from him, causing him to doubt himself.

But the more moments he spent with the woman in his arms, the harder it was to keep those feelings at bay. Every moment with her was kindling to this fire and tonight was proof that it would only grow out of control if they did not finally choose to acknowledge that it was there.

With the brief reprieve to catch her breath, Charlotte’s desires quickly faded into embarrassment. 

What the fuck did you just do?

“U-um I’m sorry, s-so sorry, Michael,” she whispered as she took a step back from him, his arms releasing her from his web. She avoided his eyes as she grabbed her coat from the floor where it fell. Suddenly, the plain white walls of the front hallway in his temporary apartment seemed far more interesting than the shell-shocked man in front of her. “D-don’t know what came over me. I-I should go.” 

She quickly walked around his body and out the door, leaving him paralyzed and confused in his doorway. And by the time he regained his wits about him, she was gone. 

Charlotte slid into her car and let her head fall onto her steering wheel with a wave of shame and embarrassment. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Charlie??” She whispered to herself while one silent question oscillated through her mind: Why couldn’t things ever be easy? 

Part 2

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a comment with your thoughts and let me know if you want to be tagged!

[polaris-likethestar]

her antler queen (lottie matthews x natalie scatorccio)

☆.。.: 🩷 °☆.。.: 🩷 °☆.。.: 🩷 °☆.。.: 🩷 °☆

𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙬𝙨 𝙭 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙤

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙣𝙤𝙣-𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.5𝙠

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚'𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨.

☆.。.: 🩷 °☆.。.: 🩷 °☆.。.: 🩷 °☆.。.: 🩷 °☆

contrary to popular opinion, lottie matthews was not insane. sure, she had weird unexplainable visions. sure, she was technically the leader of what some would assume to be a cannibalism cult. but really, lottie was just a girl. a girl who was very good at playing pretend.

from an early age, lottie was stuck with these visions, these dreams when she’s not sleeping. while at first she had a hard time getting used to it, she would eventually come to let herself indulge in these scenarios. they were almost likes signs, from a higher spirit. laura lee had said it was god sending lottie a message, that she was supposed to be some sort of prophet. and that’s actually what lottie planned on being. a prophet. a savior. it was her destiny, to save herself and all her other teammates. after all, why would she be burdened with these visions if not to do something good? isn’t it just a blessing disguised as a curse? lottie was convinced it had to be. she convinced there was a purpose behind her hallucinations, that she wasn’t just crazy. she would herself this over and over again. it helped with the coping process. 

she couldn’t control what she saw but whatever it was, it typically was an answer or a reason as to whatever the hell was going on in her life. lottie lacked a lot of those. answers. which isn’t the easiest thing when you’re a girl with a lot of questions. like why did you get stuck here? how can you escape? why is the really gorgeous blonde girl you’ve been flirting with just treating you like shit?

that’s another thing. while most of her visions involve some sort of ritual or guidance from the wilderness, others involved one of her teammates. the pretty emo italian, natalie.

now at first, lottie was convinced it was because natalie had a higher purpose. at first she believed it was because natalie was supposed to be the sacrifice, supposed to be the one that got the group through the next season, but then it became clear that natalie was the next in line. the next antler queen. and despite natalie’s objections and skepticism towards the wilderness, she took on the role. it was meant to be, lottie thought. the non believer finally finding her way to the light. the wilderness had shown the most cynical of people the way, so that means it had to be real. lottie wasn’t just playing pretend, not this time.

lottie had told natalie that she had always been its favorite, which wasn’t entirely untrue. she just left out the part where natalie was her favorite as well.

maybe, just maybe, lottie thought more highly of natalie than just the new antler queen. maybe lottie thought her connection to natalie was more than just her helping the other girl see the wilderness for what is truly is. maybe the wilderness brought them together for another reason. maybe. just maybe the wilderness saw something. lottie couldn’t quite place it, it was something between lust and love and jealousy and curiosity and adoration. natalie was everything lottie wasn’t. she was unapologetically herself, she was beautiful in a way lottie had never seen before, and she was so insanely alluring without even trying. she found herself idolizing natalie, wanting to know everything about the magnetic girl in her dreams.

all lottie matthews wanted was to understand the anamaly that was natalie scatorccio.

so, she gravitated towards nat. they started talking more, they got closer. it was a natural thing, even more proof that the wilderness is real and it believes these two have a purpose together. and when natalie started having issues with travis, lottie knew it was her place to step up and be that safety net for natalie, even if natalie didn’t want it. even if the latter was convinced she was better off alone.

the lonely life never works out well, lottie had said to nat, but the blonde just dismissed her. lottie understood her skepticism. it was the same way she had reacted to the wilderness. but eventually natalie had come to answer its calling. so why couldn’t she answer lottie’s?

natalie had confided in lottie about her fears as antler queen. she had fears of letting everyone down, of fucking up. lottie knew nat was still having doubts about the wilderness, but she also knew natalie cared. even if she wouldn’t show it, natalie cared. and that was enough to get her to try with what she once considered wicca bullshit. natalie would do that if it meant to try and save everyone. and lottie? well, if lottie admired natalie back then, she was full on ready to worship natalie knew.

one night, about a week afterwards, nat had an argument with travis. she came back to the cabin, hurt and crying. and lottie knew. lottie knew travis was no longer important to the story. the visions had told her of this moment. they had told her of natalie slamming the door of the cabin. they had told her of natalie’s teared stained face, her eyeliner smudged and running down her cheek as if it was water falling down a cliff. they had told her of just how gorgeous a broken heart could look, and they now told her that it was lottie’s job to fix that heart. she wasn’t playing pretend. not anymore. this was real.

so she asks natalie if she’s okay. natalie, who is closed off. natalie, who is mean to people as a defense mechanism. natalie, who is the brightest star in the sky, but is hidden by a stormy cloud. if it was anyone else at any other time, lottie knew natalie would’ve snapped and said i’m fine. lottie knew that it had to be her and it had to be know. the voices, the visions they were all leading up to this moment.

and when natalie crawled into lottie’s arms crying, she knew this was the wilderness’ way of saying take care of her.

that night, lottie held natalie. she listened to the other girl cry, and she cried with her. she wouldn’t pretend to understand what nat was going through, but she tried. she decided right then and there; she would always try for natalie. she had wiped the tears away from natalie’s face, and when that wasn’t enough, she had kissed all over natalie’s body in hopes that she would forget all the pain. she had given her a night of pleasure and happiness, something she assumed natalie hadn’t gotten from travis in a while. and as she sucked and licked natalie’s gorgeous pink pussy, lottie was in absolute heaven. she couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything else in this moment. instead of the sex that lottie was used to, full of horny teenagers and sloppy kissing, this was different. it was slow, passionate, almost romantic. it was perfect. lottie knew natalie was hurting, and she knew that she could help fix it. lottie was glad to be a distraction, if that’s what was necessary. whatever the end goal is, she would reach it, with natalie right next to her. her beautiful, broken, extraordinary girl. her antler queen. 

lottie wasn’t exactly sure where she stood with natalie after that night, but she figured it was somewhere good. she figured natalie understood that they really were meant to have something special, that the wilderness brought them together for a reason. there were too many signs for it to be a coincidence. there was too much at stake for it just to be a one night stand. lottie didn’t know what her and nat were, and she didn’t know what she wanted them to be, but she knew she wanted to be something to natalie. and she really thought she was. 

until one day, lottie walked in on natalie and travis having sex. and that’s when she broke.

years and years of suffering. unexplainable vision after unexplainable vision. it was supposed to lead up to this. to the plane crash. to the wilderness. to natalie. the wilderness was supposed to guide lottie, to protect her, to help her fufill her destiny as the prophet. lottie was supposed to help save everyone, and she would save nat along the way. 

but as much as lottie wanted to save natalie, she never stopped and thought if natalie wanted to save lottie back.

it was then in that moment that lottie thought fuck the wilderness. what has it ever done for her? all it ever did for her was hurt her and give her grief and false hope. god, natalie had warned her about that and lottie didn’t listen. because she was convinced. no, because she wanted to convince herself. she wanted to believe that there was a reason she’s been getting these dumb vision since she was ten. she wanted to believe there was a reason they were stuck here. she wanted to believe there was a chance at escaping. she wanted to believe she wasn’t weird, she wasn’t insane, and that someone, fucking someone, could see that. someone could see she’s real. maybe her and natalie could’ve been real. maybe in another life they were.

but - just like everything else in lottie matthews’ life - it was simply a game of pretend.

[lottieurl]

GOD YEAH. nat's genuine you hit the nail on the head. absolutely the driving force behind jackie's developing nat derangement too like she's drawn to that soooo much like she pretty much straight up points that part of nat out in the pilot as her compliment towards nat!! not that idea Exactly but more what that is To Jackie. "you're so completely yourself and you don't care what other people think" like YESSS! and also no. because she does absolutely care what people think however she is herself in Spite of that which i don't think jackie like. conceptualizes because i don't think she can envision a world in which she herself still cares what people think of her And is so completely herself in spite of that and that is a whole nother absolutely devastating can of worms i'm not even going to get into. but the whole. jackie nat derangement thing you mentioned in the tags is. yeah. because i am ALWAYS thinking about these two in relation to each other they devastate me individually and when their powers combine..... head in my hands. anyway. GOD. YEAH. nat loves people well and that kind of love coming from that kind of person is SPECIAL. like her heart's on her sleeve and it's an open wound and it's getting blood everywhere and everyone who's around her long enough thinks that's the most alluring thing ever and it's also partly the reason nat's so genuine because she doesn't even know how to hide it. no wonder so many people want to keep nat in their lives like if i knew nat i would too!!!! that kind of person does not come into your life every day and like. god i think one of the most important parts about this to me is that she doesn't SEE that in herself i think. people gravitate towards her and when they do i think there's a part of her that doesn't understand it. and because she doesn't Get it she's always waiting for the other shoe to drop. and like. god. NAT!!!! i've gotten to the point where the thoughts are no longer coherent and it's just her name but. yeah. nat. -cannibal laura lee anon

YES YES YES and i think that's what makes nat dynamics really really good? there's just something about how this Nat Genuineness often makes other characters reveal things about themselves they're either unaware of or hiding. like nat existing in the way that she does invites others to show us their flaws and their insecurities and their fears. we talked before about how s1 lottie was more of a mystery character than a fully fleshed out one and how they're doing a lot of character work with her this season so that we get to see more of her vulnerability, what's right there under the surface no matter the role she takes on or how she's affected by her visions and IN BOTH TIMELINES as we learn all of this we also see the developing lottienat dynamic. there was this post making rounds a while ago about how nat SEES lottie for who she is (especially in that bathtub scene) and not the ideas others project onto her and while that applies to lottie most heavily i do think nat has had the most emotional maturity out of all of them from the start and she does make people feel SEEN. what naturally follows: natalie scatorccio derangement syndrome

[gacmediadaily]

Rising Against the Titans

When you switch on your TV, it’s easy to gravitate towards those big-name channels that have been around for decades. Entering this established TV entertainment realm and making a mark is no easy feat. However, within a mere two years, the Great American Family network (GAF), born from the vision of television maestro Bill Abbott, has started making impressive strides. GAF has occasionally secured a spot on the charts, proving its content resonates. It’s a testament that viewers are not only tuning in but genuinely enjoying what GAF brings to the table.

The Man with the Midas Touch

Bill Abbott isn’t new to the game. Many might remember him as the force behind Hallmark’s meteoric rise. Under his guidance, the channel went from being a mere blip on the TV radar to a household name. Remember the “Countdown to Christmas” on Hallmark? That was Abbott’s brainwave. Over the span of several decades, he transformed Hallmark into the go-to destination for heartwarming, family-friendly entertainment. And now, observing GAF’s budding success, it seems he’s well on his way to replicating that magic once again.

A Brief Glimpse into Great American Family (GAF)

Launched in 2021 by GAC Media, the Great American Family network has swiftly carved a niche in the vast television landscape. Available to approximately 59 million households, which translates to 51% of pay television viewers, GAF has bridged the gap for audiences seeking both secular and “soft” faith-based content. With availability across platforms like Xfinity, Spectrum, DirecTV, and streaming services like Philo and Sling TV, its accessibility is widespread. Though GAF is a fresh face in the media world, its dedication to wholesome, family-oriented, and faith-friendly programming is rapidly positioning it as a preferred choice for many viewers across the nation.

GAF’s Star Power Ignites the Screen

In the vast galaxy of TV networks, the GAF is swiftly becoming a shining star, and much of that brilliance can be attributed to its ensemble of talented actors. Just this past Saturday night, viewers were treated to “A Harvest Homecoming.” This film not only made an impressive mark on the crowded cable charts but also reunited the captivating duo of Trevor Donovan and Jessica Lowndes, eliciting nostalgic memories of their “90210” days. The film’s success is even more commendable given the promotional hiccups faced due to a SAG strike.

Yet, the allure of GAF extends beyond just this pairing. The network boasts icons like Laurie Loughlin, whose grace never fades. Additionally, Danica McKellar, with her enduring “Wonder Years” charm, Candace Cameron, fondly remembered as the heart of “Full House,” and many other talented actors, all contribute significantly to the depth of GAF’s lineup.

With such a star-studded lineup, GAF, in just two years, promises an entertainment future that’s not only bright but stellar.

New Kid on The Block with Old School Charm

Understanding the significance of GAF’s progress is akin to imagining moving to a new school and trying to find your place amidst everyone’s established cliques. That’s GAF for you — the new kid on the block in the TV landscape, looking for its own niche. In just its second year, it’s as if they haven’t just claimed a seat in the crowded cafeteria but are now also getting those sought-after invites to the coolest parties.

Final Thoughts

Entering the world of TV is daunting. But armed with experienced leadership, star power, and compelling content, GAF is showing it has the potential to not just fit in but excel. Here’s to more years of top-notch entertainment from GAF!

[seoboosters]

Blu’s: A Curated Selection of the World’s Most Prestigious Women’s Clothing Designer Brands

In the fast-paced world of fashion, few boutiques can claim to offer the perfect blend of timeless elegance, modern trends, and an exclusive selection of the world’s most prestigious women’s designer clothing brands. Blu’s, an iconic fashion destination, does just that and more. With its expertly curated collection, Blu’s ensures that every fashion-forward woman can discover luxury pieces that resonate with her unique style, regardless of the occasion.

Whether you're looking for a sophisticated ensemble for a formal event, chic office attire, or the latest trend in casual wear, Blu's has something extraordinary to offer. This article delves into Blu's carefully curated selection, highlighting its commitment to showcasing only the best from the global fashion scene. For more information on Blu's and to explore the full collection of designer brands, visit: https://www.blus.com/

A Legacy of Luxury and Style

Founded with a vision to offer top-tier fashion, Blu’s has become synonymous with luxury, quality, and sophistication. With decades of expertise in the fashion industry, the boutique has established itself as a trusted name for women seeking to elevate their wardrobes. Blu’s not only caters to the high-end needs of its clientele but also ensures that fashion enthusiasts have access to iconic brands that define modern-day luxury.

Blu's Signature Brands: The Pinnacle of Fashion Excellence

At Blu’s, the focus is not just on assembling a collection but on offering a curated experience. Each brand carried at Blu’s is meticulously selected to ensure that it meets the highest standards of design, craftsmanship, and luxury. Let’s explore some of the most coveted designer brands available at Blu’s.

1. Max Mara: Italian Elegance Defined

Max Mara is celebrated for its clean lines, tailored silhouettes, and timeless designs that epitomize Italian craftsmanship. Known for its iconic coats and sophisticated pieces, the brand is a staple at Blu's. Max Mara’s collections offer the perfect balance of elegance and practicality, making them ideal for both the modern working woman and the fashion-forward trendsetter.

2. St. John: Effortless American Glamour

Renowned for its chic knitwear and impeccable tailoring, St. John is synonymous with refined sophistication. As one of the most prestigious American designer brands, St. John’s offerings at Blu's are perfect for women who appreciate classic pieces that are both comfortable and stylish. With a focus on luxurious fabrics and intricate craftsmanship, St. John’s collections exude effortless glamour.

3. Brunello Cucinelli: The King of Cashmere

Blu’s proudly features Brunello Cucinelli, a brand known for its ethical craftsmanship and luxurious cashmere creations. From cozy yet elegant sweaters to perfectly tailored suits, Brunello Cucinelli’s pieces offer understated luxury. With a commitment to sustainability and high-quality materials, the brand's garments are an investment in both style and ethics.

4. Theory: Modern Minimalism

For those who gravitate towards sleek, modern designs, Theory offers collections that speak to minimalism with a touch of sophistication. The brand is known for its clean lines, neutral palettes, and versatile pieces that can seamlessly transition from day to night. Blu’s selection of Theory pieces is perfect for women seeking a polished, contemporary look.

5. IRO Paris: Effortless French Chic

IRO is the go-to brand for women who love the casual yet edgy allure of French fashion. With its rock-chic aesthetic and innovative designs, IRO brings a fresh, youthful energy to Blu’s curated collection. From distressed leather jackets to flowy dresses, IRO’s pieces effortlessly combine casual cool with high fashion.

Blu's: More Than Just a Boutique

What sets Blu’s apart from other fashion boutiques is its deep commitment to providing an unparalleled shopping experience. From the moment you step into the boutique or browse its online store, you’re treated to personalized service and expert styling advice. The team at Blu’s understands that fashion is deeply personal, and they go above and beyond to help clients find pieces that not only fit but also enhance their individual style.

Blu’s clientele can also enjoy an exclusive range of services, including personal shopping appointments, wardrobe consultations, and alterations. These bespoke services ensure that every purchase is perfectly tailored to the customer’s needs, adding an extra layer of luxury to the Blu’s experience.

The Blu’s Experience: A Curated Shopping Journey

Shopping at Blu’s is more than a transaction—it’s a journey through the world of high fashion. Each piece in Blu’s collection is handpicked by a team of fashion experts who have a keen eye for quality and design. Whether you’re visiting one of Blu’s brick-and-mortar locations or browsing their online boutique, the attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the experience.

Blu’s online store offers the same curated selection as its physical boutiques, allowing fashion lovers from around the world to access exclusive designer pieces. With a user-friendly interface, detailed product descriptions, and high-quality images, Blu’s ensures that online shoppers can easily find the perfect piece, no matter where they are.

Why Invest in Designer Clothing?

Investing in designer clothing is about more than just owning a luxury item—it's about acquiring pieces that are crafted to last a lifetime. Designer brands are renowned for their superior craftsmanship, attention to detail, and use of high-quality materials. These factors not only ensure that the garments look and feel luxurious but also guarantee that they will stand the test of time.

Furthermore, designer clothing often transcends seasonal trends, making it a wise investment for those looking to build a timeless wardrobe. Brands like Max Mara, Brunello Cucinelli, and St. John offer pieces that can be worn year after year, maintaining their relevance and style.

Blu’s: Where Fashion Meets Philanthropy

Blu’s commitment to luxury extends beyond fashion and into the realm of philanthropy. The boutique regularly supports charitable initiatives, partnering with various organizations to give back to the community. This dedication to making a positive impact is yet another reason why Blu’s stands out as a boutique that truly cares about its clients and the world around it.

Conclusion

Blu’s is more than just a destination for luxury fashion—it’s a curated experience that celebrates the finest in women’s designer clothing. With a selection that includes iconic brands like Max Mara, St. John, Brunello Cucinelli, and more, Blu’s offers something for every woman, regardless of her style or occasion.

From the moment you step into Blu’s, you’re greeted with a world of elegance, sophistication, and personalized service. Whether you’re investing in a timeless piece or seeking out the latest trends, Blu’s ensures that every shopping experience is nothing short of extraordinary.

If you’re ready to elevate your wardrobe and indulge in the finest luxury fashion, visit Blu’s today and discover the world’s most prestigious designer brands in one impeccably curated space.

[ellasalterationsllc]

Eye-Catching Embellishment: Geometric Beading for the Unique Bride.

Introduction

In a world where every bride seeks to express her unique style and essence, the allure of geometric beading stands out as a beacon of individuality and sophistication.

This exquisite form of embellishment is more than just decoration; it's a statement, a narrative woven into the very fabric of the wedding dress, making each gown as unique as the love story it represents.

Geometric beading combines the precision of mathematics with the beauty of art, creating patterns that are mesmerizing and captivating.

Whether it's the bold lines of Art Deco or the subtle intricacies of minimalist design, geometric beading offers a world of possibilities for brides looking to make a statement on their special day.

But what makes geometric beading such a sought-after choice for modern brides?

And how can you choose, care for, and customize a geometrically beaded dress to make your wedding truly unforgettable?

Let's explore.

The Enchantment of Geometric Beading

Geometric beading enchants through its fusion of order and creativity, offering an array of patterns that capture the eye and heart.

Historically, geometric patterns have symbolized harmony, balance, and continuity, qualities deeply resonant on a wedding day.

Modern brides gravitate towards geometric beading for its ability to merge traditional symbolism with contemporary style, creating dresses that are both timeless and of the moment.

The precision of geometric patterns, contrasted with the organic flow of a wedding gown's fabric, presents a visual and tactile allure unmatched by other embellishments.

How to Choose Your Geometrically Beaded Dress

Choosing a geometrically beaded dress requires consideration of the wedding theme, venue, and personal style.

For an outdoor ceremony, a dress with subtle, nature-inspired geometric patterns can echo the surroundings.

For formal affairs, bold, Art Deco-inspired patterns make a striking statement. When selecting your dress, consider how different geometric shapes can complement your body type.

Circular patterns can soften angles, while angular beading can add structure and definition.

Always try on a variety of styles to see how the light catches different patterns, and don't hesitate to mix traditional and modern elements to suit your unique taste.

Customization and Alterations

Customization and alterations offer the opportunity to create a truly personalized bridal look.

Adding custom geometric beading to a simpler gown can transform it into a one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

Work with designers or tailors who specialize in beadwork to explore possibilities—from altering the pattern's scale to changing bead colors for a subtle or dramatic effect.

Skilled professionals can ensure alterations enhance the gown's fit without compromising the integrity of the design, ensuring every bead and pattern aligns with the bride's vision.

Caring for Your Geometric Beaded Dress

Caring for a geometric beaded dress requires gentle handling and attention to detail.

Before the wedding, store the dress in a cool, dry place, away from direct sunlight to prevent bead discoloration.

Professional cleaning by experts familiar with handling delicate beaded garments is crucial to maintaining the dress's beauty.

After the wedding, consider professional preservation to keep the gown in pristine condition, ensuring it remains a cherished keepsake for years to come.

Where to Find Your Dream Dress

Finding your dream geometric beaded dress can be an exciting journey.

Start by exploring bridal boutiques known for their diverse designer collections and commitment to craftsmanship.

Attending bridal expos and designer trunk shows can provide access to the latest trends and exclusive designs not widely available.

For a more personalized touch, consider working with a designer to create a custom gown that perfectly captures your vision.

Online bridal platforms also offer a vast selection of geometric beaded dresses, with detailed descriptions and photos to help you make an informed decision from the comfort of your home.

Making a Statement with Geometric Beading

Making a statement with geometric beading means embracing the dress as a reflection of the bride's inner world and outward style.

The choice of geometric beading speaks volumes about a bride's confidence and her desire to shine in a way that's entirely her own.

Geometric patterns, with their clean lines and shapes, bring a modern edge to bridal wear, offering a fresh perspective on wedding day elegance.

For the bride who chooses geometric beading, her gown becomes more than just a dress—it's a declaration of her unique identity and aesthetic, set to dazzle all who witness her walk down the aisle.

Conclusion

In the panorama of bridal fashion, geometric beading stands out as a mesmerizing option for the bride who seeks to blend tradition with individuality.

Eye-Catching Embellishment: Geometric Beading for the Unique Bride is more than a fashion statement—it's a testament to the bride's journey, her dreams, and the love story she shares.

Choosing a geometric beaded dress is an invitation to explore the depths of personal style, to celebrate uniqueness, and to step into marriage with confidence and grace.

As we've journeyed through the enchanting world of geometric beading, it's clear that these gowns offer something truly special for every bride—unparalleled elegance, timeless beauty, and a radiant reflection of personal style.

FAQs

How long before my wedding should I start looking for a geometric beaded dress?

It's advisable to start looking for your geometric beaded wedding dress at least 6-9 months before your wedding.

This timeframe allows for ample selection, fittings, and any custom alterations or additions.

Can geometric beading be incorporated into veils or accessories?

Absolutely!

Geometric beading can beautifully complement veils, headpieces, and even bridal jewelry, creating a cohesive look that enhances the bridal gown.

Custom accessories can be designed to match or subtly echo the dress's geometric patterns.

Is it possible to have a geometric beaded dress on a budget?

Yes, finding a geometric beaded dress on a budget is definitely possible.

Consider sample sales, end-of-season discounts, and online bridal platforms offering high-quality but affordable options.

Customizing a simpler gown with geometric beading is another cost-effective way to achieve a unique look.

How do I choose the right geometric pattern for my body type?

Choosing the right geometric pattern involves considering how different shapes can flatter your figure.

Vertical patterns can elongate the body, while strategically placed horizontal patterns can define your waist.

A professional bridal stylist can provide personalized advice based on your body type.

What are the best colors for geometric beading on a wedding dress?

While traditional whites and ivories are timeless, geometric beading also looks stunning in gold, silver, and even soft pastel hues for a touch of color.

The best color will complement your skin tone and wedding theme, making the geometric patterns stand out beautifully.

[winniecouture]

The Enchantment Of Beautiful Wedding Dresses: Finding The Perfect Bridal Gown

Every bride dreams of that magical moment when they step into a stunning wedding dress that makes them feel like the most beautiful person in the world. The quest for the perfect bridal gown is a journey filled with excitement, anticipation, and, sometimes, a touch of apprehension. But when you find the one that truly resonates with your style, personality, and vision for your big day, it's a moment of pure enchantment.

The Beauty of Variety: Styles for Every Bride

The world of bridal fashion is as diverse as the brides themselves, and this diversity is what makes the search for the perfect wedding dress so thrilling. From classic and timeless to modern and trendy, there's a wedding dress style to suit every bride's taste.

For those who adore classic elegance, a timeless A-line gown with its fitted bodice and flowing skirt crafted from satin or silk may be the epitome of beauty. Alternatively, a traditional ballgown with intricate lace or satin detailing and a graceful train can evoke a sense of regal splendor.

Bohemian-chic brides might gravitate toward ethereal and flowing dresses with relaxed fits, delicate lace, and perhaps a whimsical flower crown. Or, they may choose a simple and lightweight slip dress with subtle embroidery or beading, perfect for an outdoor or destination wedding.

Vintage enthusiasts often opt for dresses that transport them to another era. This might involve a 1920s-inspired flapper-style dress with intricate beadwork and fringe for a Gatsby-esque celebration. Others might fall in love with a 1950s tea-length dress, with its full skirt and cinched waist, or a Victorian-inspired gown featuring a high neckline, long sleeves, and intricate lace detailing.

Modern minimalist brides appreciate sleek and elegant sheath dresses that showcase clean lines and contemporary design. A tailored jumpsuit or pantsuit can be a striking choice for the bride who prefers a fashion-forward, non-traditional look. Or, a form-fitting mermaid-style gown with minimalist embellishments and a sleek train can exude modern sophistication.

Romantic souls often find themselves drawn to whimsical, fairytale-inspired dresses. Imagine tiered tulle gowns with voluminous skirts that seem to float on air, or blush and pastel-colored dresses adorned with floral embroidery or appliqué. Some brides choose to embrace their inner princess with dresses that look straight out of a storybook, featuring layers of ethereal organza, illusion sleeves, and even a tiara.

Destination weddings call for gowns that match the location. A lightweight, beachy dress with a flowy silhouette and a halter neckline is perfect for a seaside celebration. For a garden wedding, a short, flirty dress with a touch of whimsy might be just right. And for those who say "I do" in a tropical paradise, a bohemian-inspired, backless dress with crochet or macramé detailing captures the spirit of the occasion.

The Couture Experience: Crafting Dreams into Reality

For some brides, the allure of couture wedding dresses is irresistible. Couture gowns are more than just clothing; they are artistic expressions and feats of craftsmanship. They are the result of collaboration between brides and renowned designers to create a truly unique masterpiece.

Couture wedding dresses are made-to-measure, ensuring a perfect fit for the individual bride. They are characterized by exquisite details, such as hand-sewn beadwork, embroidery, lace appliqué, sequins, crystals, and other embellishments. These gowns are built to last, with meticulous construction and high-quality materials.

The couture experience involves multiple fittings and consultations, often over several months, to ensure that every aspect of the gown aligns with the bride's vision. It's a journey that involves the bride as an active participant in the creation of her dream dress.

The Final Word: Finding Your Beautiful Wedding Dress

In the end, what makes a wedding dress truly beautiful is its ability to make the bride feel confident, radiant, and utterly herself on her wedding day. It's the dress that brings tears of joy to her eyes when she gazes in the mirror. It's the gown that captures her personality, style, and the essence of her love story.

So, whether your heart beats for a classic masterpiece, a modern work of art, or a couture creation, remember that your beautiful wedding dress is out there waiting for you. Embrace the journey, try on different styles, and trust your instincts. When you find the one that speaks to your heart, you'll know that you've discovered the dress that will make your wedding day truly enchanting.

[a-dorin]

innocence

pairing: plo koon x femmale jedi!reader

word count: 1.815k (oops, got a little carried away)

warnings: alcohol consumption, teasing, allusions to sex, use of pet names, smut elements, nc-17

prompt: “don’t look at me like that and then feign innocence.”

“are you ready for tonight?” 

aayla is practically glowing as you shift, eyes falling on her. a sleek, silk, inky black dress hugs her curves, a slit resting barely above the junction where her hip and thigh meet. a silver headdress glitters on her forehead and crest, trailing down her lekku. her plush lips are tinted a crimson hue, glossy and enticing as they curve into an admirable grin. 

“well, don’t you look absolutely gorgeous.”

“i could say the same thing about you,” a giggle bubbles up as fingers smooth out a wrinkle on your own gown, “bly is going to have a heart attack when he sees you.”

she scoffs, “oh, this is nothing. the man’s seen every inch of me. did you ever find a date for the gala?”

“no,” you exhale, “i’ll be going solo.”

“i can assure you the moment you walk into that ballroom,” aayla crosses over to you, placing a consoling hand on your shoulder, “all sorts of men, clones and jedi alike, are going to be fighting tooth and nail for one dance with you.”

“i doubt that,” you snort, fiddling with a ring, “with my luck, i’ll be stuck with ki-adi-mundi for the evening.”

“he has five wives to worry about,” aayla chuckles warmly, “he doesn’t need a sixth.”

stifling a laugh, you fluff your hair, beaming at aayla’s work. it was a painstaking hour sitting still, but nonetheless, the end result was near perfect, not a single strand out of place. your own gown was flattering yet alluring, a simple black piece with an off the shoulder neckline. sleeves cling to your arms, a soft, satin-like fabric. 

wrinkling your nose, you wriggle your hips, in a vain attempt to alleviate the tightness around the small of your back, dipping to the curve of your butt. there was a slit on the right side, just tapering off about mid thigh, but it wasn’t enough to create any sort of wriggle room. 

which, aayla reassured you wasn’t an issue. 

“you look fine,” you flinch as aayla’s firm tone floods you left ear, “the longer you stare into that mirror, the more you’re going to nitpick. if we don’t leave now, bly is going to get restless.”

“i’ll have to thank him for at least escorting me in,” you murmur, adjusting your dress for what felt like the fourteenth time in the last five minutes, “we should leave before i decide to stay in for the night.”

aayla flashes you a bright grin, “atta girl.”

departing from your quarters, the two of you make your way down the long corridor, taking a left at the end. in seconds, bly comes into view, shifting on his feet, glancing at the commlink strapped to his wrist. 

bly is dressed in a luxurious suit, the color a snowy, bright white. his shoes were a leather of some sort, matching with the suit. however, the shoulder cuffs were an intense gold, gleaming under the dim light of the jedi temple. regalia and medals were pinned to his chest, displaying his battalion, rank, as well as other accomplishments. 

in your peripheral, you could sense the admiration enveloping her features, how she was stunned by his appearance. 

“hey loverboy,” aayla calls, “we’re right here.”

bly’s head swivels, his demeanor completely changing the second his eyes met with aayla’s, “well good evening to you too, love.”

aayla wraps her arm around his elbow, taking a moment to pick a curl off his crisp white uniform, “you look handsome, as always.”

“and you look radiant,” he leans over, pressing a light kiss to her temple, “i’ll have to keep my eye on that cheeky nautolan.”

“cheeky nautolan?” you echo, arching a brow. 

aayla rolls her eyes, waving a hand, “oh, he’s referring to kit. he’s not a fan.”

bly’s jaw clenches, “and he’s not a fan of me either.”

“well you have no need to worry, commander,” aayla purrs, “i’ll be on your arm all night.”

“speaking of that,” bly remarks, jutting out his elbow, “if i recall, i have to escort you in, as well, general.”

“you don’t have to call me that,” you loop your arm through his, “let’s just skip the formalities for the night.”

“sounds like a plan to me,” bly nods, “i’m going to get wasted.”

“and have me take care of you again?” aayla teases, the click of her heels echoing through the corridor, “no thank you.”

“oh my love,” bly nudges his lover, “you’re always love taking care of me.”

“is our shuttle ready?” aayla queries, “i’m hoping it’s not a long way there.”

“it’s just at the senate building,” bly responds, gazing out the doors of the temple, “and if i’m correct, our chariot is waiting.”

“well, what are we waiting for?” aayla cocks her head. 

“i was waiting for you,” bly opens the door, motioning his head towards the shuttle parked outside. 

“after you, ladies.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

swirling a spoon in your drink, you suck in a sharp breath as a classical ballad begins to play, the sweet notes mixing effortlessly with the sound of laughter. there’s a calm, relaxed aura in the air as clone troopers, generals, commanders, senators, and jedi mill about, sharing tales of battle to the current political debates. 

your drink is half-consumed, a refined corellian wine. the notes linger on your tongue, intertwining with the sharp taste of mint. you were crunching on the mints provided with the meal, head resting on your hand as you stare at the dance floor wistfully, aching for just one dance. 

“why the long face, little dove?” 

a rumble to your left startles you, eyes flickering over to a familiar face. 

a kel dor hovers around your seat, talons tucked neatly into his clasped hands. his wardrobe for the night was a black suit, burgundy slash splayed across his chest. medals twinkle, silver and gold alike. 

“oh,” you straighten your spine, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “just -- um, watching everyone.”

“are you watching everyone else or wishing to be like everyone else?” there’s a hint of a tease buried in his inquiry, “you’ve been sitting over here all night. i’m surprised kit has not asked you to dance, nor obi-wan. you’ve been a hot topic tonight at the bachelor’s table.”

“bachelor’s table,” you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips twitch into a meek smile, “was i really a topic of discussion tonight, plo?”

“indeed,” he hips his head. your eyes gravitate to his hand as it stretches out, palm up, “it would be an honor to dance with the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

“plo,” your eyes widen, “surely you did not--”

“did i stutter? dance with me, little dove.”

the moment your hand falls into his, he’s sweeping you away, bringing you out to the dance floor. a tender hand  wraps around your waist, the other hand lacing with yours. carefully, you follow his lead, ensuring you don’t trip over his feet. 

“don’t be so nervous,” plo’s voice is soft, “no one is paying attention to us, little dove. it’s just you and i.”

taking in a deep breath, you glance around, clinging onto the kel dor, “did you really want to dance with me or do you just pity me?”

heat flourishes through your cheeks, spreading to your neck as talons dig into your hip, “well, i wasn’t going to just let anyone have the first dance with you.”

“i’m surprised i was a topic of discussion at the bachelor’s table,” your heart flutters as he raises his arm, spinning you around, “i never knew i had that kind of power--”

“you do, little dove,” plo brings you in once again, in closer proximity than before, “and you don’t know the kind of power you hold over me.”

“o-over you?” 

there’s a beat of silence as the song falters, the orchestra ceasing as they prepare for the next song. plo’s gaze locks with yours, and although you can’t distinguish the emotion behind it, you can sense the intensity, the pull, urging you to lean in. you lick your lips, blood roaring in your ears as the flipping of pages transition into a new melody. 

“the things i want to do to you in that dress are utterly sinful.”

“do you care to elaborate?” your mind is reeling now as his hand drifts towards the small of your back, tugging on the fabric ever so slightly. 

plo’s head extends, modulator just outside the crest of your earlobe. there’s a quiet huff, followed by the richness of his voice. 

“i want to rip that little dress off of you, and make you mine.” 

your lashes tickle your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, “i-i -- plo, please--”

“oh little dove, how i would love to just hear you whimper my name.”

a shiver rolls down your spine as your knees buckle, the statement going directly to your core. plo purrs as you practically fall into his chest, skin hot to the touch with desire, “plo.”

“yes?”

“c-can we um--”

“there is nothing that i would love more.”

wrapping an arm around your waist, plo leads you away from the dance floor, deflecting the whistles and shouts of kit, wolffe, sinker, and comet. the hall adjacent to the ballroom is empty, not a single soul around. there’s not another word from plo as he strolls down, seeking out a storage closet. 

tampering with the lock, he uses a talon, along with the force to pry it open. you slip in, followed by the kel dor. darkness floods your vision, yet you can feel his chest pressed against yours, a smooth surface cooling your back. 

“may i remind you of something, my sweet girl?”

you nod, feeling his forehead brush against yours, choking back a whine as fingers curl around your breast, “y-yes plo?”

“don’t look at me like that and then feign innocence, as i will not hesitate to strip all of that away in a matter of minutes. are we understood?”

“y-yes,” you breathe, nearly crumpling to your knees as a talon drags lightly across your inner thigh, nearing your slick folds. you were practically dripping now, the rush of exhilaration pumping through your veins. 

you could get caught at any moment. 

and it was clear that plo did not have any hesitations about taking you here, right here in this storage closet, where there were hundreds of people gathered not too far away. 

“no underwear?” the inquiry is edged with a growl as the pad of his calloused thumb circles your clit, “you’re soaking wet, sweet girl.”

his touch sends euphoria rippling through your being, and you find yourself craving more. 

“plo,” his name drips like honey, “stars, plo, touch me.”

“oh, i’ll touch you, my little dove. as long as you can keep quiet, i’ll give you anything you desire.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

taglist: @fandom-gal44 @dexthtoyounglings @xcertaindarkthingsx @idiotonanadventure @pinkwhorecrux @letitrainathousandflames @maiaofmischief  @laorme34 @vinciwolf​ @justalittlecloud​ @marina-isabella​ @queenofheavenandhell​ @always-on-tatooine​

[cannibal-witchh]

Reader(Fem) x Alcina Dimitrescu

(PART 2)

Written by cannibal_witchh

Part 1

:https://cannibal-witchh.tumblr.com/post/641589115086929920/readerfem-x-alcina-dimitrescu-part-1-written

⛓Trigger Warnings⛓

Story contains: Gore, sexual elements, vulgar language, violence, elements of sub/dom behavior, and captivity.

Notes: This is the 2nd part of the story and it will progressively get more sexual, and the elements between the reader and Alcina will become more dom/sub. It is a little bit of a slow burner so bare with me. It will get juicy soon! I want to add, I do not support in any fashion abuse, and or non consensual actions. ⚠️ I have clearly placed trigger warnings to indicate there may be elements that are not for every reader. I heavily gravitate with dominance and submission/gore so thats where the relationship in the story will go ⚠️ Again, limited information so nothing in the story really is canon.

The reader is referred to as:

Y/N- your name

Y/L/N- your last name

She/her- in italics and bold

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Her blood boiled as she felt the weight of humiliation and rage filter through her. She was in poor shape, bloodied up, bruised, and very little hope could be found within her. She stared at Alcina with a hateful expression, but the vampress had full awareness beneath that thin surface of loathing was absolute fear. "Don't be foolish. I will not say it again.", she continued a smirk as she rested her elbows up on the edge of the bath. Even in absolute indecency she was wicked and intense. Her body at full exposure, water glistening off her porcelain skin, and gentle beads of water trailing down her breasts. The moon was illuminating off her soft tall figure, as she tipped her head back and relaxed it on the edge. "I think I've been more than patient with you."

Y/N, had so many emotions cycling through her, there was disgust, hatred, and anxiety. But she had concluded that there was no point in stalling. Alcina would grow tired and eventually kill her if she wasted anymore time. She began to strip, peeling an article of clothing at a time, trying desperately to cling on to every second. Her hands trembling as she slid her panties down her ankles before the wicked vampire.

She submerged her body in the warm water, blood began to scatter out from her knee, and she watched fragments of the water become crimson. Fuck. "Relax, I'm not a shark. I can smell your wonderful nectar but I have no need to feed at this exact instance just because you're coloring my bath water red.", she teased pulling her head up. Loose black waves stuck to her wet skin, spreading out like a small web on her smooth pale skin. Her intense bright eyes focused on Y/N, her eyes looked so preditorial, and so hungry. Those eyes burned deep in Y/N's soul, it was haunting.

After about forty minutes of soaking and cleansing, Alcina decided to privilege Y/N by showing her the cellar room. She held a lit candlabrum guiding them deep inside. It smelled foul, there were variations of fresh corpses everywhere, limbs lost in other areas of the large hallway, and it was incredibly dark. The walls and floor were built with thick cobblestone, and there were numerous cellars with rusted bars. " Now, I believe I have treated you kindly with allowing you to stay in an actual guest room.", she said as she continued to lead Y/N deeper into the cellars. Abruptly, an incredibly dry groan echoed through the cellar, it sounded as if it was in absolute suffering and pain. Y/N darted her head in the direction she believed it came from but it was too difficult to really distinguish actually where it sounded. " Relax, I won't allow them to touch you.", she assured as she stopped and turned to face her. "Those are family.", she stretched a pearly grin, her fangs teasing under her satin red lips. Alcina instructed with just her hands for Y/N to come closer to her, and she obeyed the demand. "You look much better being cleaned up, pet.", that name alone flooded a pool of humiliation in her, being stabbed, bitten, and beaten countless times to this nonsense- it just delivered a wave of embarassment to her. Alcina let out a soft giggle, and for moments there wasn't words being exchanged.

Thud! With swift impact, there was a heavy hit that landed to Y/N's head, and she flew several feet back away from Alcina. She tried to gather herself but her vision grew blurry, and her knee still in poor condition to make quick movements. Dwindling in and out of clear vision, the sounds of agonizing groaning reverberated through the corridor infront of her. She felt shivers, hair raise, and another dose of adrenaline greet her. What could this be? Within moments, a strong smell of decay flooded through the damp cobblestone hallways, and echos of pain continuing to sound. A group of corpse like creatures swayed in, their bodies detierating, bones exposed, long sharp aged nails, and hollow dark eyes. Her family. Absolute horror welcomed Y/N, Alcina had lied, she wasn't going to protect her. The creatures began to hobble towards her, surrounding her, their stench choking her, and their groans ringing in her ear. She was fucked, no available escape was present for her to attempt. She closed her eyes and she felt the stroke of long thin nails brush against her face and arms. Felt the cold breath of their hissing near her ears, as she tried to control her panic. This was it. "Enough!", Alcina screeched, and immediately the creatures shrieked and fled away in the tunnels. She relaxed her hands on her hips and walked over to Y/N with a pleased expression. " This is what will become of you but worse if you do not submit to me. Do we have ourselves clear?", Alcina watched as Y/N nodded trying to control her panicked breaths, and maintain her shivering. "Good."

Without effort, Alcina had carried Y/N in her arms all the day back to her captive room. When they arrived, she locked the door, and rested Y/N on the sheets. Y/N felt some release of tension the moment she establish this was her room. She spread her arms out, tracing the creases of silk that collected under her. The presence of the fabric brought her slight comfort. "Honestly, you truely are pathetic.", she sighed as she sat the candlabrum on the wooden nightstand beside the bed. Y/N felt beside her sink, Alcina had sat beside her and began to run her fingers through her hair. Despite the cruel treatment, this minor kindness felt relieving to Y/N. She let out a small sound of relief as Alcina continued to lace her fingers through her hair. "I feel despite some tension, you have gathered an understanding of your place as my feeding pet. I appreciate that submission. I have mutually contributed. I awaited feeding until you were cleansed and in the comforts of your room.", a sharp spike danced in Y/N's stomach, she felt acidity well up, and her knee twitch with discomfort. It was time.

This time, Y/N did have opposition towards the situation this time. She fully gave in to the unfortunate circumstances. Her pants were removed, revealing a blackened knee with blood stains feathering out from the site. "I'm quite surprised how quickly you've adapted to your position to me. I have to admit, I am pleased with you.", Alcina leaned to her side, hovering over Y/N's wounded knee, her large breasts nearly spilling out from her nightgown. The closer she leaned towards her knee, the more her alluring breasts pressed gently against Y/N. "Despite my daughters, I have control over my hunger. I will treat you well, and I will know how to savor you slowly.", she looked down at her knee and let out a sound of disappointment. "So much for being patient. Its scabbed. I suppose I will make a new feeding site."

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"My f-femoral atery?", Y/N muttered as she felt her cheeks grow hot. A major artery, not even her daughters had fed on. The violent feeding they did more than likely would've killed her if they attempted to. " Yes, now please relax. I have fed in this location before and no one has ever died. I have lived a long life and acquired quite the knowledge on self control.", she began to move close to her upper thigh, her nose brushing lightly against her skin, and her mouth leaving light streaks stained from her rouge. The sound of skin break was heard through the cold air, Y/N let out a pained moan and held her breath. The pain was unpleasant, it was like having a canine bite but with small thin teeth. She tried focusing on the candle wicks, watching them sway and dance softly in the distance. The warm occasional crackle it did from time to time. It was the closest thing to resemble peacefulness during this taxing time. Alcina began to feed, siphoning Y/N's blood, she made sounds of utter bliss as the sweet flavor danced along her desperate tongue. Her body stiffening in surprise as pure satisfaction greeted her mouth. Her nipples growing erect through her night gown, brushing against Y/N's leg. Y/N felt light headed, feeling blood leaving her as she grew quickly cold. Strangely, she had no presence of panic, perhaps, the loss of blood delivered her brief emotional insensitivity. Alcina stayed down there for quite sometime, muttering muffled sounds of bliss, occasionally latching off revealing a bloodied chin, teeth, and lips. She met Y/N's eyes and immediately flashed a wide smile, it was almost sickening but in a way bewitching. Maybe the lack of blood was making Y/N confused. " W-why am I so relaxed?", she muttered feeling a heavy weight of tranquility possess her. " Shh...its the lack of blood. Soon I will stop.", Alcina whispered as Y/N felt her tongue lick her inner thigh. Her long tongue tracing and prodding the bite marks. Desperstely trying to drain whatever was left of the site.

" I believe, I am full. Thank you for the meal.", she wiped her crimson stained lips and chin with the back of her hands ,now tarnishing it with red. " I believe, I owe you a thank you, pet. You have been surprisingly obedient the whole time, and quiet too.", Alcina slowly adjusted herself until she was on all fours above Y/N. Her large smooth breasts draping down reaveling down her well tailored gown. She began to crawl slowly towards Y/N's face, her chest lighting brushing against Y/N's body. It was incredibly soft yet cold. " I am going to need you to open your mouth, won't you, pet?", without hesitation, Y/N dropped her mouth open for her. Alcina licked her lips and pressed her right fang into her plump bottom lip. Blood began to trickle out and run down her chin and onto her chest. Her hand traveled slowly up to Y/N's neck, gentle gripping it, and holding it against the mattress. Her opposite hand, explored under her shirt, and rested on her heart. Y/N, felt the a wave of heat flush away the cold that was residing in her. What was she about to do? "Can't let my obedient food die on me, yet.", Alcina leaned herself forward, pressing her lips against Y/N's. Her tongue inviting itself into her mouth, brushing metallic crimson inside. The flavor was terrible but Y/N did not seem to object. Alcina continued to kiss her, muffled sounds escaping between their lips as a warm blanketed feeling continued to lay over Y/N. Blood had managed to escape their lips, trickling down Y/N's chin, it was incredibly cold as it traveled down. Alcina ceased the kissing, her face revealed itself to be flush and pink. Strange for a creature of the undead. She moved her long delicate fingers along Y/N's blood covered lips and chin. Collecting whatever escaped under her finger tips. "Don't waste it.", she whispered softly nudging her fingers against Y/N's lips, as they slipped their way inside her mouth. More of that bitter flavor met Y/N's tongue, and she felt her body grow warmer and warmer. Alcina took her fingers out after a few moments, examining there was no trace of remaining blood present. She made a sound of approval that trailed with a small smile. An overwhelming amount of insatiable hunger found Y/N, she felt her body perk with energy, her senses incredibly alert, and her heart accelerate as if it was injected with caffeine. She brought a hand to Alcina's cheek and drew her to her own. Lips reuniting again, her tongue pressing its way into Alcina's mouth, and Y/N biting her lower plump lip. She was hungry, the introduction to Alcina's blood was intoxicating, addictive, and restoring. It brought her energy and she needed more. A small line of red flowed from Alcina's lower lip, and Y/N quickly licked it from her face. Her tongue returning back to Alcina's mouth the moment she collected all of her crimson. Alcina muffled a small moan, as her hand tightened around Y/N's neck, the opposite hand no long resting on her Y/N's heart but traveling down her stomach. Her incredibly sharp nails dragging into her sternum down to above her navel. She felt blood seep from those insicions, and she let out a pained moan. She buried her lips against Alcina's for a few more passionate moments until she broke it. Her lips pressing against Y/N's neck and her tongue dragging down her neck to the freshly bloodied cuts on her sternum and navel. She kissed and licked the bloodied wounds hungrily. Little delicate moans left her mouth as she glanced up at Y/N with her appreciative smile. Still continuing to clean the newly made cuts with her tongue. "Dont act as if this is an invitation of making love, foolish one. Vampires have restorative blood that gives humans the ability to briefly recover, replenish energy, alertness, and on some occasions enhance their libidio.", she rolled her eyes, " In this case, you acquired all of it. What a headache. I just wanted to make sure you didn't die of blood loss.", She sighed. " I suppose I will find more uses for you, pet. But don't think it will entirely feel good."

To be continued...

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[spaceskam]

an addendum to this ficlet for @winged-fool ❤️

ao3

"Stop it."

Isobel pried Michael's hand away from his mouth, saving his nails from being chewed to hell. He held his breath instead, eyes on the empty stage in the little psuedo-underground bar. Whenever Alex had given him the tickets that had directions on the back of them, Isobel had insisted they were trying way too hard to be obscure. Michael, on the other hand, had been too nervous to have any actual opinions.

"Now, say 'thank you, Isobel, for making me get a fake ID last year,'" Isobel said, her chin propped in her hand from where she sat on the other side of the small two-person table. He rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, Isobel," he grumbled, his hand gravitating back towards his mouth as he watched one of the girls in Alex's band, Liz, check each of their instruments to make sure everything was in tune. Isobel swatted it away again.

In his truck, he had all of Alex's finished homework. He debates bringing them inside, but he figured he would just ask if Alex wanted them tonight or Monday morning. That is, if he got the chance to talk to him. Alex might be too cool for that. Well, he was definitely too cool for that.

"I shouldn't have come, he probably thinks I'm obsessed with him," Michael said. Isobel scoffed.

"We've had this talk. He's the one who asked you to do his homework, he's the one who keeps asking, he's the one who offered the tickets, and he's the one who knew what section of the library to find you in," Isobel explained. Michael sunk deeper in the chair.

"He probably asked someone or just looked around."

"Maybe, which is all trouble he went through to find you," Isobel pointed out, "The point is, if anyone's obsessed, it's him."

Michael whole body flushed with heat at the mere idea that Alex had ever thought about him ever. Isobel snorted a laugh, reaching over to pinch his cheeks.

"You're so in love," Isobel cooed. He rolled his eyes and leaned away.

Within the next twenty minutes, the bar was at max capacity and Alex's band was being introduced. They had hard copy CDs of their EP being sold at the bar which seemed to fit their entire alt indie pop aesthetic. But none of that mattered as the three of them got on stage to the sound of applause: Alex sang and played guitar, Maria played bass, and Liz played drums. Michael's eyes, though, were stuck on the way Alex's fingers curled around the neck of the guitar.

Michael only seemed to melt more when he opened his mouth, his voice a slightly breathy, smooth tenor as he played the guitar in tandem. He made it seem easy.

This version of a concert was much easier than the ones he'd been to before where the entire performance was drowned out by screams. This audience was calm, allowing the band to fill the dim room with a soothing ambience as they drank and absorbed the music. The sound slowly drew the unnecessary stress out of Michel's shoulders.

"Shit," Isobel commented, "They're actually pretty good."

And they were. Alex's voice was alluring as he seemlessly slipped into the next song of their set. It had a darker feel to it and, as Michael listened to the lyrics, it seemed to be about some ambiguous love interest, a figure who was addictive and yet unpenetrable. Foolishly, Michael listened for pronouns, waiting to see if Alex said he and hoping that meant he had a shot. But, no, Alex always used you.

Which was all fine and dandy until the first chorus hit and his eyes flickered up to meet Michael's across the room, making unbreakable eye contact through the rest of the song as he sung of someone who couldn't give him the time of day.

The song ended and Alex was still staring, but he didn't offer a smile. He just caught his breath as people, including Michael, clapped. He only looked away when he turned to drink some water and share a few words with Liz.

"Oh, he's totally into you," Isobel huffed. Michael blinked out of his Alex-induced haze and looked at her with wide eyes.

"What are you talking about? No, he's not," Michael insisted, but his skin still felt hot from the entire two minutes of eye contact.

"Michael, that was the most intense eye fucking I've ever seen," Isobel scoffed, "Literally felt like I was intruding."

"No," Michael said, shaking his head as another song started up. As perfect proof, Alex didn't look his way through that song. "See? Not interested."

"He's probably embarassed."

Michael scoffed, "Guys like that don't get embarassed."

"Everyone gets embarassed," Isobel assured him. He didn't really buy it.

Still, he watched Alex performed the rest of the set. He was always attractive, but, when he was on stage and sweating in his black tank top and his tying his dark-wash jean jacket around his waist to reveal strong biceps, he was almost irresistible. He sang like he was made to, his eyes closed and showing off thick winged eyeliner and black eyeshadow. He was a goddamn vision.

Michael's mind slowly began to wander, curiosity getting the better of him as he wondering how exactly his sweat tasted. Was that gross? Probably. His thumb nail found his mouth again and Isobel didn't pull it away, letting him bite into the skin as he stared.

Alex caught his eyes a few more times throughout the set, but he never let it sit like he had the first time. It was almost upsetting, but Michael didn't take it to heart. He didn't think he had a shot with Alex anyway.

"So, on a scale from 'as interested as I was before' to 'if I don't have him, I will die', how are you feeling about Alex after that?" Isobel asked as everyone applauded them. Michael glared at her, listening to Alex remind everyone that they had CDs at the bar.

"Stop it," Michael told her, "I'm not... I'm not interested."

"I didn't raise a liar."

"You didn't raise me at all."

"Mhm," Isobel hummed, standing with a purpose, "I'm gonna go buy a CD and you're going to ask him for an autograph."

"What? No, no, no, do not–" But she was already headed that way.

Michael sunk into his seat further and further, trying to avoid anyone's eyes as Isobel bought a goddamn CD and went to find Alex. She was trying to embarass him, honestly. It was a whole mess. He watched her intently, too scared to take his eyes off of her in case she actually succeeded in dragging Alex to the table.

However, he watched her for so long that he didn't realize Alex found the table himself.

"Hey," Alex said. Michael nearly jumped out of his skin as he sat up straight, his knee slamming into the table. Alex held back a laugh, his lips pressed together in a smile.

"Hi," Michael fumbled out weakly, rubbing his knee beneath the table. Alex looked even better up close, still glistening with sweat and looking a little tired, but gorgeous. "I-I have your homework in my truck if that's what you wanted."

"Oh," Alex said, looking over his shoulder for a second before giving Michael his attention again, "I, uh, I actually just wanted to know if I could buy you a drink, but that's nice too."

"You want to buy me a drink?" Michael repeated, more than a little caught off guard. Alex shrugged limply. "But you just got off stage, let me buy you one."

A kind smile found his face and he shook his head. "Well, I actually get free drinks, so no money goes is lost if I go get it."

"Oh," Michael said, clearing his throat, "Okay."

"I'll be right back," Alex said, brushing his hand over Michael's shoulder as he passed him to head to the bar.

Michael's eyes followed him, his brain not really catching up with what happened until Alex leaned over the bar. He was about to have a drink with Alex Manes. What the fuck. His eyes quickly scanned the crowd for Isobel and found her leaning on the opposite end of the bar beside Liz and she simply winked at him. Oh. Okay.

A few seconds later, Alex slipped into the seat across from him with two drinks in his hand. Michael gulped softly. This was it. This was his chance.

"You're really good, by the way," he said. Alex smiled.

"Thank you," he said, taking a sip of his beer, "Did your, uh, friend like the show too?"

"My sister," Michael said and Alex's smile relaxed tenfold, "She liked it."

"Good," Alex said, "I'm glad you came."

Michael allowed himself to take those words to heart and he smiled wide. Maybe he did have a shot.

"Me too."

[pleasantdreamqueen]

Handsome Caretaker 2

Part ONE

A/N: Sorry it took so long here’s the second part. HATE COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED 

Previously: “Yes. Its nice to finally meet, Carl told me a lot about you. I hope you enjoy your stay at the mansion ”, I answered grinning as I shook her hand. I smiled at him.” ‘He is cute;I’ll give him that. This visit just got interesting’,I thought.

“Can you help Yn with her bags please Markus”,Carl suggested. I took note of his body language as he grabbed my belongings. “ I don’t want to seem like a burden”, I insisted. “Nonsense Yn, your family. He can handle it. Why don’t you join me in the art studio. It must have a nickel since you’ve painted something”, he began.

“ I shouldn’t be anywhere near a canvas”, I replied waving my hands in embarrassment. Carl put a paint brush in my hand. “I can still see a spark in you Yn. There’s no shame in embracing it’, he assures.I mouthed ‘sorry’ to Markus as I stepped towards the piece. Protesters scream absurd statements that do not represent androids as a whole. There’s more to him than meets the eye’, I thought.

When we reached the studio my jaw dropped in amazement. “Do you like it”, Markus asked. “This place is more alluring than I remembered. Leo and I used to spend hours in that tree house. Speaking of Leo, how is he?”, I wondered. We lost contact after I found out he was using his trust fund to fuel his red ice addiction, Carl admitted. I felt Markus place his hand on my shoulder.I’m sure Leo will get some help”, he reasoned. I welcomed the comfort as I caressed his hand. “One can only hope”, I cautioned.

“But enough about him. I want to see if you have any creativity left since corporate sucked the life out of you”, Carl surmised. “Is that a challenge old man”, I remarked. He shrugged his shoulders. “Creativity always comes to those with gracious hearts”, he replies. ‘Whatever Yn paints I’m sure it’ll be gorgeous’, Markus thought

I grabbed an easel from the back, a blank canvas, a cup full of brushes, and a few bottles of random paint.  “Remember to paint with your emotions Yn”, he mutters. ‘God he’s cute when he’s embarrassed. Never mind him just focus on the blank canvas’, I scolded myself, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. I was searching my subconscious , trying to find something to put on the canvas.I remembered Markus’ touch. How warm it felt against my skin. 

I wanted to be wrapped in his arms and cherished. None of my partners ever did that. I felt my hand gravitate toward seemingly random colors as I created my vision. 

Carl POV

I observed Markus as he watched Yn paint. He was a stone wall, thinking one small breath could hinder her concentration. Admiration can lead to love. These two will change the world I know it’, I thought grinning. The finished piece was two dark figures; one with an android-like heart, the other was human.They stood back to back holding hands for dear life. Yn stopped painting and opened her eyes. 

“This is outstanding. I have no words”,I exclaimed. She dropped the materials. “Are you alright Yn”, Markus asked , concerned as he checked her stress levels. “It's nothing serious Markus . . . I was just taken aback by the painting is all”, she objected, grabbing his hand for balance. “Why don’t I take you to your room”, he suggests. She only nodded. “I’ll check on you once you're settled okay”,I affirmed brushing her hand. 

“If only more people were like you Carl”, Yn replied, giving me a weak smile at the sentiment. “They’re a lot closer than you think”, I assured. 

Everything tag:

@littlemessyjessi, @disneymarina, @atomicpizzaandoneshots, @alisoncdariel, @miffy-melly, @hellomissmabel​, @bestillmystuckyheart​ , @promarvelfangirl​, @the-stories-in-my-head-95​, @vivis-ghost-wife​

[fanficshiddles]

Alluring whispers, Chapter 2

‘How could you forget to tell us that Loki is an Alpha?’ Steve shouted at Thor.

‘I did not think it relevant. And I… forgot.’ Thor chuckled but it died away when he saw the rest of the team looking pissed off at him.

‘This is bad, really bad.’ Bruce said.

‘Surely it’s not that bad? Just because he’s an Alpha and she’s an omega doesn’t mean anything. Loki is locked up in the cell, and Hope has no reason to go down there.’ Clint said, a bit confused as to why everyone was freaking out so much.

‘If Loki could tell she was here, then I would be surprised if Hope doesn’t know an Alpha is here too. It’s in their biology to gravitate to one another. Even more so with them being so rare.’ Bruce explained.

‘Well… if it seems like there’s going to be a problem, isn’t there suppressants she can take?’ Wanda suggested.

‘You’re right. There is!’ Natasha said and quickly pulled out her phone. ‘There aren’t many pharmacists that sell them anymore, due to omegas dying out. But they used to be in huge demand to keep their heats at bay. Hope wouldn’t have had to be on them because there was no Alpha on the same planet as her. But now that’s changed… well, we might need to get some for her.’

Tony ran his hand down his face. ‘This is totally out of my zone of knowledge too. How do some of you know so much about omegas?’

‘You mean there’s actually something that the great Tony Stark doesn’t have a clue on?’ Steve asked mockingly.

Tony glared at Steve. ‘Watch it, Cap’.’

‘I learned about them in Russia while I was being trained… Bingo!’ Natasha said, finding a result for a pharmacist in New York that stocked what they may need.

‘I just thought it was general knowledge about the Alphas and omegas.’ Bruce shrugged.

‘I’d heard of them but didn’t know anything about them, to be honest.’ Clint said sheepishly.

‘Uh, guys… We already have a problem.’ Said Vision, looking at the security cameras.

The team rushed over to see what he meant. All of them panicked when they saw Hope making her way down to the basement area, where the prison cells were.

-

Hope felt really weird, like there was an itch inside of her that she couldn’t get to. She’d never felt anything like it before. And she was sure she was going crazy, but she thought she could smell an Alpha… The most delightful smell she had ever smelt.

Following her instincts, and her nose, she made her way through the base. She was a bit surprised to find her feet carrying her downstairs towards the cells where they held any prisoners. But she couldn’t stop herself from going there. Like her body knew where to go, even if her mind didn’t.

When she opened the door and walked in slowly, there was just one large cell in the middle of the room, all glass-like. And in the middle of said cell, she saw a tall figure with his back to her. His scent hit her like a brick wall and made her mind go hazy.

Her legs turned to jelly as she took small tentative steps towards the cell. She stopped halfway there.

‘Come closer, little omega.’

His deep voice went right through her like a drug. Obeying the Alpha, she took a few more steps towards him. When he turned around, she gasped.

He was beautiful.

Loki was transfixed on the girl on front of him. She was a like a Goddess. He stalked towards the front of the cell, not taking his eyes off her for even a second.

They were both silent for a moment, taking one another in for the first time. Then a smirk spread across Loki’s lips and he motioned her closer to him with a finger.

Being an omega, she would want to do whatever an Alpha said. Which wasn’t always a good thing…

Hope took the last few steps towards him, but then she was snapped out of her trance-like state when the team came rushing in. Wanda used her powers to put up an energy wall between Hope and the front of Loki’s cell, so she couldn’t see him anymore.

Natasha rushed over and guided the omega away, out of the prison room. She saw Hope’s eyes changing, they had been glazed over, in a trance. Now they were back to normal.

Tony, Thor and Steve glared at Loki, who just smirked at them.

‘She is delightful.’ He purred.

‘You are not to touch her, Loki.’ Thor demanded, pointing at him.

‘How do you expect me to touch her while I’m locked in here?’ Loki put his arms out and chuckled as he stepped back into the middle of his cell. ‘But do you really think that you can keep her away from me? That you can stop simple biology?’

Thor’s face was like thunder, so angry at the way Loki was acting.

‘Come on, Thor. He’s just trying to wind you up.’ Steve put his hand on Thor’s shoulder, the three of them left the room. Hearing Loki’s laughter right before they closed the door.

Upstairs, Natasha had taken Hope to the living room and got her some coffee.

‘Are you ok?’ She asked.

‘Yeah… I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just felt this really strong pull towards him.’ She swallowed hard and took a sip of her coffee.

‘He’s an Alpha and you’re an omega. It’s natural to feel like that.’ Bruce said, joining them.

‘But he’s… well, he’s a villain.’ Hope said, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe how mesmerised she had been by him.

‘Clint and Wanda have gone to the pharmacist to get suppressants, that should hopefully help to control your urges for him. Don’t worry, it will be alright.’ Tony assured her, but the look he gave the others wasn’t one of reassurance.

When Clint and Wanda returned with the tablets, Hope took some straight away and went to bed. She asked for the team to lock her in, until the tablets got into her system. But they wouldn’t do that. Instead, Bruce set up a sensor outside her door so if she left her room, they would be alerted instantly.

‘What are we going to do?’ Vision asked, the team were all sat around together having a drink.

‘We need to move him, it’s not safe for Hope him being here.’ Said Wanda.

‘Not possible. We are the only place that can contain him and his magic. We will have to hope the suppressants work and that we can keep them apart.’ Steve said.

‘They will have to be in the same room at times though, since Loki probably won’t tell us where the tesseract is willingly, we will need her to heal him when we interrogate him.’ Natasha sighed.

‘Well, maybe that’s not a good idea anymore. You know she doesn’t like it when we do that anyway.’ Bruce grumbled.

He didn’t really like doing that tactic either. He thought it was cruel, even if it was Loki.

‘Let’s just calm down and see what tomorrow brings. You never know, Loki might give us the information we need sooner than later.’ Steve said, trying to calm things down.

‘I doubt it.’ Natasha snorted.

-

The following day, the team didn’t waste any time with interrogating Loki. But it wasn’t easy, he wasn’t giving up any information at all. Instead, he kept asking about Hope…

‘So what’s her name?’ He asked cheerily, sitting on the edge of his bed in his cell.

‘Who’s name?’ Steve frowned, he and Natasha were outside his cell, trying to ask questions.

‘The omega. She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? I bet she has a name to match.’ Loki smiled then bit into the apple he was given for breakfast. Not the most substantial meal, but it was better than nothing.

‘We are not here to answer questions, Loki.’ Natasha said through gritted teeth.

‘Where is she from? I know she’s not Midgardian, that’s quite obvious from her hair colour. It’s natural.’ He said so casually as if commenting on the weather.

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. He was getting irritated, and so was Nat.

‘Shut up, Loki. We are not here to talk about Hope. We are here to talk about you.’ She blurted out, not thinking. But the way Loki’s face lit up, she realised she’d slipped up.

‘Ah, so her name is Hope. That’s a lovely name.’

Loki chuckled at the pissed off look on Natasha’s face. He was always able to wrangle out what he wanted from people, one way or another.

‘When am I going to get to meet her?’ He then asked.

‘You’ve already met her. And that’s all you’re getting.’ Steve folded his arms over his chest.

Loki laughed. ‘That was not a meeting. That was merely a glance, a quick look at what is mine.’ Loki stood up and started walking slowly around his cell.

‘She is not yours.’ Steve snapped, getting defensive he clenched his fists at his sides.

‘Oh, but she is. Do you see any other Alphas on this realm?’ Loki put his arms out at his side while he looked around the room, for effect.

Steve just narrowed his eyes at him, not liking where the conversation was going.

‘That does not give you a right of way to her. She’s under our protection, and you are not getting her.’ Steve said firmly, then he motioned to Natasha and they both left.

Thor, Clint and Vision decided to try later that day. But they didn’t get anywhere either. Loki kept asking questions again about Hope. Vision kept quiet. Thor almost slipped up a few times, but Clint kept stomping on his foot to shut him up.

‘You are all so desperate to get the tesseract. But just how desperate are you?’ Loki asked, pacing back and fore slowly at the side of his cell.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Clint asked.

‘I am willing to make a deal, a bargain, for your precious tesseract.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Clint asked cautiously.

‘I will tell you all you need to know, including where the tesseract is, on one condition and one condition only…’ He trailed off and stopped, turning to face them all.

‘You give me the omega.’ Loki grinned wickedly.

[imagine-loki]

Alluring whispers, Chapter 2

TITLE: Alluring whispers CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki has the tesseract again and is captured by The Avengers. Where he discovers they have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her,badly. She is the epitome of all things good, and trying her best to avoid his seductive advances. But it’s not easy due to their instincts and biology. The Avengers do their best to keep the omega safe, but Loki is on the hunt and is hungry for her. RATING: M

‘How could you forget to tell us that Loki is an Alpha?’ Steve shouted at Thor.

‘I did not think it relevant. And I… forgot.’ Thor chuckled but it died away when he saw the rest of the team looking pissed off at him.

‘This is bad, really bad.’ Bruce said.

‘Surely it’s not that bad? Just because he’s an Alpha and she’s an omega doesn’t mean anything. Loki is locked up in the cell, and Hope has no reason to go down there.’ Clint said, a bit confused as to why everyone was freaking out so much.

‘If Loki could tell she was here, then I would be surprised if Hope doesn’t know an Alpha is here too. It’s in their biology to gravitate to one another. Even more so with them being so rare.’ Bruce explained.

‘Well… if it seems like there’s going to be a problem, isn’t there suppressants she can take?’ Wanda suggested.

‘You’re right. There is!’ Natasha said and quickly pulled out her phone. ‘There aren’t many pharmacists that sell them anymore, due to omegas dying out. But they used to be in huge demand to keep their heats at bay. Hope wouldn’t have had to be on them because there was no Alpha on the same planet as her. But now that’s changed… well, we might need to get some for her.’

Tony ran his hand down his face. ‘This is totally out of my zone of knowledge too. How do some of you know so much about omegas?’

‘You mean there’s actually something that the great Tony Stark doesn’t have a clue on?’ Steve asked mockingly.

Tony glared at Steve. ‘Watch it, Cap’.’

‘I learned about them in Russia while I was being trained… Bingo!’ Natasha said, finding a result for a pharmacist in New York that stocked what they may need.

‘I just thought it was general knowledge about the Alphas and omegas.’ Bruce shrugged.

‘I’d heard of them but didn’t know anything about them, to be honest.’ Clint said sheepishly.

‘Uh, guys… We already have a problem.’ Said Vision, looking at the security cameras.

The team rushed over to see what he meant. All of them panicked when they saw Hope making her way down to the basement area, where the prison cells were.

-

Hope felt really weird, like there was an itch inside of her that she couldn’t get to. She’d never felt anything like it before. And she was sure she was going crazy, but she thought she could smell an Alpha… The most delightful smell she had ever smelt.

Following her instincts, and her nose, she made her way through the base. She was a bit surprised to find her feet carrying her downstairs towards the cells where they held any prisoners. But she couldn’t stop herself from going there. Like her body knew where to go, even if her mind didn’t.

When she opened the door and walked in slowly, there was just one large cell in the middle of the room, all glass-like. And in the middle of said cell, she saw a tall figure with his back to her. His scent hit her like a brick wall and made her mind go hazy.

Her legs turned to jelly as she took small tentative steps towards the cell. She stopped halfway there.

‘Come closer, little omega.’

His deep voice went right through her like a drug. Obeying the Alpha, she took a few more steps towards him. When he turned around, she gasped.

He was beautiful.

Loki was transfixed on the girl on front of him. She was a like a Goddess. He stalked towards the front of the cell, not taking his eyes off her for even a second.

They were both silent for a moment, taking one another in for the first time. Then a smirk spread across Loki’s lips and he motioned her closer to him with a finger. 

Being an omega, she would want to do whatever an Alpha said. Which wasn’t always a good thing…

Hope took the last few steps towards him, but then she was snapped out of her trance-like state when the team came rushing in. Wanda used her powers to put up an energy wall between Hope and the front of Loki’s cell, so she couldn’t see him anymore.

Natasha rushed over and guided the omega away, out of the prison room. She saw Hope’s eyes changing, they had been glazed over, in a trance. Now they were back to normal.

Tony, Thor and Steve glared at Loki, who just smirked at them.

‘She is delightful.’ He purred.

‘You are not to touch her, Loki.’ Thor demanded, pointing at him.

‘How do you expect me to touch her while I’m locked in here?’ Loki put his arms out and chuckled as he stepped back into the middle of his cell. ‘But do you really think that you can keep her away from me? That you can stop simple biology?’

Thor’s face was like thunder, so angry at the way Loki was acting.

‘Come on, Thor. He’s just trying to wind you up.’ Steve put his hand on Thor’s shoulder, the three of them left the room. Hearing Loki’s laughter right before they closed the door.

Upstairs, Natasha had taken Hope to the living room and got her some coffee.

‘Are you ok?’ She asked.

‘Yeah… I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just felt this really strong pull towards him.’ She swallowed hard and took a sip of her coffee.

‘He’s an Alpha and you’re an omega. It’s natural to feel like that.’ Bruce said, joining them.

‘But he’s… well, he’s a villain.’ Hope said, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe how mesmerised she had been by him.

‘Clint and Wanda have gone to the pharmacist to get suppressants, that should hopefully help to control your urges for him. Don’t worry, it will be alright.’ Tony assured her, but the look he gave the others wasn’t one of reassurance.

When Clint and Wanda returned with the tablets, Hope took some straight away and went to bed. She asked for the team to lock her in, until the tablets got into her system. But they wouldn’t do that. Instead, Bruce set up a sensor outside her door so if she left her room, they would be alerted instantly.

‘What are we going to do?’ Vision asked, the team were all sat around together having a drink.

‘We need to move him, it’s not safe for Hope him being here.’ Said Wanda.

‘Not possible. We are the only place that can contain him and his magic. We will have to hope the suppressants work and that we can keep them apart.’ Steve said.

‘They will have to be in the same room at times though, since Loki probably won’t tell us where the tesseract is willingly, we will need her to heal him when we interrogate him.’ Natasha sighed.

‘Well, maybe that’s not a good idea anymore. You know she doesn’t like it when we do that anyway.’ Bruce grumbled.

He didn’t really like doing that tactic either. He thought it was cruel, even if it was Loki.

‘Let’s just calm down and see what tomorrow brings. You never know, Loki might give us the information we need sooner than later.’ Steve said, trying to calm things down.

‘I doubt it.’ Natasha snorted.

-

The following day, the team didn’t waste any time with interrogating Loki. But it wasn’t easy, he wasn’t giving up any information at all. Instead, he kept asking about Hope…

‘So what’s her name?’ He asked cheerily, sitting on the edge of his bed in his cell.

‘Who’s name?’ Steve frowned, he and Natasha were outside his cell, trying to ask questions.

‘The omega. She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? I bet she has a name to match.’ Loki smiled then bit into the apple he was given for breakfast. Not the most substantial meal, but it was better than nothing.

‘We are not here to answer questions, Loki.’ Natasha said through gritted teeth.

‘Where is she from? I know she’s not Midgardian, that’s quite obvious from her hair colour. It’s natural.’ He said so casually as if commenting on the weather.

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. He was getting irritated, and so was Nat.

‘Shut up, Loki. We are not here to talk about Hope. We are here to talk about you.’ She blurted out, not thinking. But the way Loki’s face lit up, she realised she’d slipped up.

‘Ah, so her name is Hope. That’s a lovely name.’

Loki chuckled at the pissed off look on Natasha’s face. He was always able to wrangle out what he wanted from people, one way or another.

‘When am I going to get to meet her?’ He then asked.

‘You’ve already met her. And that’s all you’re getting.’ Steve folded his arms over his chest.

Loki laughed. ‘That was not a meeting. That was merely a glance, a quick look at what is mine.’ Loki stood up and started walking slowly around his cell.

‘She is not yours.’ Steve snapped, getting defensive he clenched his fists at his sides.

‘Oh, but she is. Do you see any other Alphas on this realm?’ Loki put his arms out at his side while he looked around the room, for effect.

Steve just narrowed his eyes at him, not liking where the conversation was going.

‘That does not give you a right of way to her. She’s under our protection, and you are not getting her.’ Steve said firmly, then he motioned to Natasha and they both left.

Thor, Clint and Vision decided to try later that day. But they didn’t get anywhere either. Loki kept asking questions again about Hope. Vision kept quiet. Thor almost slipped up a few times, but Clint kept stomping on his foot to shut him up.

‘You are all so desperate to get the tesseract. But just how desperate are you?’ Loki asked, pacing back and fore slowly at the side of his cell.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Clint asked.

‘I am willing to make a deal, a bargain, for your precious tesseract.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Clint asked cautiously.

‘I will tell you all you need to know, including where the tesseract is, on one condition and one condition only…’ He trailed off and stopped, turning to face them all.

‘You give me the omega.’ Loki grinned wickedly.