#bathed in a lunar glow
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theprongspotter · 5 months ago
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Cope - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 2 - 402 words
“Again? I swear we do this every single night,” Regulus says, quirking a brow and an amused smile tugs at his lips.
“Yeah, but I like hearing your voice.”
They’re right outside of James’ house, sprawled out on damp grass, but it doesn’t seem to bother them.
Regulus rolls his eyes, but points at a constellation near the tree line. “That’s Ursa Major, the Great Bear. You know that, I hope, considering the amount of times I’ve told you that. Besides, it’s rather easy to see.”
"Of course.” James nods.
His finger moves to point at a different cluster of stars. “That’s Virgo. If you look at the brightest star there, you can see Spica. That’s one point of the triangle.”
“The triangle?” James asks.
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Yes, James, the triangle. We’ve only been over this a dozen times.”
He points at another constellation. “Then that’s Boötes, and the brightest star there is Arcturus.”
“Your middle name,” James says.
Regulus cracks a smile. “Yes, my middle name. It’s also the second point of the triangle.”
James smiles and takes Regulus’ hand in his, moving it until it points at a really familiar constellation. His favorite, actually. “Leo. There’s you. You’re the heart of the lion.” You’re my heart. “You complete the triangle asterism.” You complete me.
“So you do pay attention.” Regulus grins.
They let their arms fall to rest on their stomachs as they look at each other, lying side by side on the cool grass. The moonlight bathes the clearing in a soft, silvery glow, making Regulus appear almost ethereal. His dark hair contrasts sharply with his pale skin, which seems to shimmer under the lunar light, giving him an otherworldly radiance. His eyes, usually so intense, are softened by the moon’s gentle touch.
James, with his tousled hair and tired expression, looks rugged yet vulnerable in the dim light. The moon casts shadows across his face, highlighting his eye bags.
“You know, you really need to find a new way to cope,” Regulus says after a while, his voice gentle but firm.
James frowns, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Regulus gazes at him with a mix of sorrow and affection. “James, I died three years ago.”
And just like that, the space beside him becomes empty.
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cloudtransprncy · 1 year ago
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"One Night Only"
Word count: 11210 Jennie x Male reader
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Consequence – That word reverberates through my mind, echoing off the plush walls of this hotel suite. Each decision, every whisper of action, carries its own shadow, trailing behind it. I know this, deep in my bones. Yet, life, in its fleeting dance, seems to mock the very notion of permanence. The only certainty we hold is the silent, inexorable march towards an end we'd rather not face. We push it aside, cloak it in disbelief. Life, in its relentless stride, continues until reality, unbidden, jolts us awake. So, we find refuge in the fleeting – in the amber embrace of liquor, the smoky tendrils of a cigarette, the heady rush of desire. For a night, just this night, we silence the whispers of tomorrow.
Jennie's breath, a ragged symphony, plays against my lips. Our kiss, a dance of longing, tastes of sweet cherries laced our sharp kiss. Her fingers, entwined in my hair, pull us closer, our bodies becoming one in the moon's silver gaze.
Commitment – that once-venerated word now feels like a stranger's tongue. The thought of being tethered, bound by invisible threads of promises stretching across a lifetime, seemed more a prison than a haven. I've always been a creature of flight, a heart unmoored. Maybe that's why she drifted away – a preemptive strike against a future steeped in resentment. In protecting us from the chains of unfulfilled promises, did I sever the only tie that mattered?
Her skin, a canvas of warmth under my fingertips, ignites a trail of desire. As I explore the landscape of her body, each curve, each hidden valley, I lose myself to the moment. Her whisper, a confession in the dark, "I've missed this," binds me tighter than any vow.
Beyond the confines of this room, the city stretches out – a tapestry of steel and dreams under the night sky. Each light, a star in this man-made constellation, speaks of what could be. Once, as a child, I found solace in the stars, in the steady presence of Virgo among the celestial sea. Jennie, like that favored constellation, has always been the light I orbit, the gravity I cannot escape.
In the lunar glow, her face is a serene oasis, her breaths soft sonnets in the stillness. As I trace the lines of her neck, her back arches, a silent plea etched in moonlight. When our gazes lock, in that infinite moment, I see it – the reflection of myself, of us, in the depths of her eyes, a constellation not in the sky but right here, in this room.
--
She'll come. She always does.
In my mind's eye, I knew she was entwined with someone new, a high-profile actor whose name evades my memory. Insignificant, really, in the grand tapestry of our story. He's but one of many, a star in the vast firmament of an industry pulsing with life. His mark on the world may be noteworthy, but in her universe, he's merely a passing comet, fleeting and ephemeral.
We had drifted apart, yet fragments of our souls lingered, delicately preserved within the vases of our hearts. Months had passed since our last encounter, since our fingers last brushed, our eyes last locked. Though a year had unfolded since our parting, the invisible threads that bound us remained unsevered. When she called, I became all ears; when I reached out, she was always there. Our souls, entwined through seasons of love, could not fully disentangle. She may have sought refuge in another's arms, yet a piece of her essence, like a sacred relic, remained eternally mine, as mine did hers.
The revelation of her presence in New York unfurled as I was poised to board my flight from Chicago to Toronto, the next chapter in my tour's melody. A spare day, a gift of time, whispered the possibility of a detour – a rendezvous in the city that never sleeps.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing my suite in a golden haze, I reached out to her. The skyscrapers below sparkled like jewels under the twilight's caress as I dialed her number. She answered, a silence that spoke volumes, a canvas upon which our history was painted. Our conversations had become a dance, a playful chase of cat and mouse, with words unspoken yet understood.
"I'm in the city for one night," I murmured, the words hanging in the air like a promise, a temptation. Her silence lingered, a delicate pause on the other end, filled with the muted symphony of her world – the distant chatter of her entourage, the soft clicks of cameras capturing fleeting moments.
"I got a room for me and you," I continued, my voice a blend of hope and certainty. "This is for one night only." The details spilled out, coordinates to our secret haven, as the line hummed with the electricity of anticipation before falling silent. But my heart knew – she would be there, drawn to me as I to her, in this city of dreams and shadows.
A knock fractured the stillness of the midnight hour, a subtle intrusion into the suite where I stood, lost in thought. Above, the sky had donned its nightly regalia, stars scattered like diamonds on black velvet, while the moon – a coy dancer among the celestial array – cast a playful glow upon the city's silhouette. Clouds, thin as gossamer, shifted in the sky, their movements like silk curtains in a soft breeze, alternately veiling and revealing the moon's luminescence. The hour was ethereal, suspended between the remnants of the day and the possibilities of the night.
As I opened the door, she materialized before me – an enigmatic vision at the threshold. She stood there, robed in a chic, form-fitting black dress that gracefully embraced her figure, ending mid-thigh in a delicate declaration of allure. Encircling her legs were knee-high socks, culminating in a daring thigh garter – a subtle yet bold statement of her unique style. Her presence was a striking contrast to the muted opulence of the hotel suite.
Her hair, a cascade of dark, silken strands, framed her face in a perfect balance of elegance and wildness. It fell around her shoulders like the night itself had woven a mantle of shadows to adorn her. The dress clung to her form, outlining her slender arms and the gentle curves of her body, a testament to her poise and the understated power of her presence.
Her makeup was an artful composition, her eyes highlighted with a subtle precision that spoke of distant lands – a hint of an exotic narrative told in the language of beauty. It was understated yet impactful, enhancing her natural features with an artistry that suggested a story deeper than what the eye could see. Her lips, painted in a soft, natural hue, invited a second glance, a lingering focus.
As her gaze met mine, it was electric, a current of shared history and unspoken understanding passing between us. Her eyes, dark and inscrutable, held a depth that was both inviting and impenetrable. The air around her was perfumed with the rich scent of roses, intermingling with the sweet notes of her perfume, creating an aura that was at once intoxicating and comforting.
Her smile unfurled, a familiar softness that painted her features with an intimacy known only to those who had once shared everything. It was a grin that reached back through time, stirring a sea of memories within me.
"Hey," I found myself saying, my words emerging with a hint of a smirk, a reflex born of countless shared moments.
"Hey yourself," she echoed, her voice a melody laced with history. Her fingers, delicate yet assertive, found my chest, pressing gently, urging me backward into the realm we had once known so well. The sensation of her touch was like a key turning in a long-locked door, opening pathways to a past we had carefully navigated.
"It's been a while," her words floated through the air, a statement hanging between us, laden with unspoken narratives.
"Indeed it has," I replied, my voice a soft echo of our shared past. The click of the door sealing us within the suite marked a threshold crossed, a silent herald of a journey into realms both familiar and uncharted.
In that simple exchange, a current of anticipation began to build. The air between us became charged, a palpable tension that spoke of things unsaid, of paths once walked and now revisited. The weight of our history and the uncertainty of our present wove together, creating a tapestry rich with possibility and fraught with the complexity of our intertwined past.
In the soft, muted light of the suite, it didn't take long for our reunion to transform into an entwined embrace on the couch, a fusion of longing and familiarity. The kiss was a deluge of suppressed desires, a fervent torrent that left no room for ambiguity in our intentions. Her body against mine was a juxtaposition of the known and the novel, a comforting familiarity found on unfamiliar terrain. Our tongues, engaged in a private waltz, rediscovered a rhythm that pulsed with both nostalgia and excitement.
My hands roamed her form with an eager curiosity, tracing the familiar yet rediscovered contours of her body. The sensation of her skin under my fingertips was a tapestry of memories and new sensations, each touch reigniting a forgotten connection. The urgency in our movements was palpable, a frantic energy that surged against the sands of time since our last entwining. We were an orchestra of motion and sound, a harmonious blend of sighs and soft moans, a tempest of passion and need. The air around us was thick with the scent of our mingled perfumes, a heady aroma that enveloped us in a cocoon of intimacy.
She dug her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer with a forcefulness that stoked the flames of my arousal. The pressure of her lips on mine intensified, her tongue dancing with increasing urgency. A soft whimper escaped her throat, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine. Our tongues fought for dominance, fueled by the heat of our desires.
A sharp intake of breath escaped Jennie as my hands found their way, cupping the curves of her ass with a gentle firmness. The motion drew her closer still, eliminating any space that lingered between us. Through the thin fabric of her dress, I could discern the outline of her response, her nipples hardening under my touch. A physical testament to the charged atmosphere that enveloped us. Her body’s reaction, tangible and immediate, sent a wave of anticipation coursing through me.
The texture of her dress under my palms was a subtle contrast to the warmth of her skin, a reminder of the thin veil that still separated us from total surrender. Each breath she took was a melody, harmonizing with the quiet symphony of the night around us.
Jennie's retreat from our kiss left a tangible, connecting strand, a fleeting bridge between us that shimmered in the dim light. Her eyes, dark and enigmatic, bore into me with an intensity that felt as if it could unravel the very fabric of my being. Those eyes were like portals to uncharted depths, brimming with unspoken tales of desire and yearning.
"I've missed this, Owen" she whispered, her voice a soft rumble, resonating with every fiber of my being. She grinds against me, her hips moving back and forth, a tangible expression of her yearning that seeped through the barriers of our clothing. Her fingers, entwined in my hair, drew me back into her orbit, our lips crashing together in a kiss that was as fierce as it was profound. The intensity of our connection, raw and unbridled, engulfed me.
Consumed by her presence, the taste of her lips, the feel of her pressed so close, my hands roamed with a mind of their own. They journeyed beneath the hem of her dress, venturing over the smooth, warm terrain of her skin, each inch revealed a revelation in itself. The sigh that escaped her, a breathless affirmation of the moment, reverberated in me like a symphony.
Our bodies moved in tandem, a harmony of action and reaction, each caress, each undulation building on the next. Slowly, inch by inch I pushed her dress upward, revealing the subtle, sensual landscape of her form. Jennie's breath quickened as her hips rolled, grinding with an increased fervor against me, her nipples stiff and pronounced, brushing against my shirt, an exquisite combination of restraint and liberation. Her arms stretched upwards into the air as I pulled the fabrics of her dress, away from her, lifting its grip from her form, and over her head, which she then tossed casually to one side.
As Jennie's dress slid away, her figure, a stunning tapestry of curves and lines, was unveiled in the lunar glow that seeped through the windows. The moonlight played upon her skin, casting it in an ethereal shimmer, transforming her into a vision of porcelain radiance. She stood there, an embodiment of confidence and sensuality, a modern-day deity framed in a chiaroscuro of shadows and light.
My gaze lingered on her breast, tracing the contours of her physique – the gentle slopes and the pronounced curves that defined her form. Each aspect of her body, from the graceful arc of her waist to the delicate structure of her shoulders, spoke of a silent grace, a beauty that was as natural as it was captivating. Her skin, smooth and luminous, seemed to capture the very essence of the moon's glow, reflecting it back in a soft luminescence that highlighted her every move. My hands, acting with a fervor born from deep within, eagerly explored the expanse of Jennie's skin, a landscape I had once known intimately. The sensation of her beneath my fingertips was exhilarating – a cascade of textures and warmth that set every nerve ending alight. Her skin was soft, yet firm, yielding under my touch with a gentle resilience that beckoned for more exploration.
As I traced the contours of her body, every curve and dip spoke volumes. The softness of her breasts contrasted with the smooth, firmer feel of her abdomen, each sensation a paragraph in the story of her body. The way her skin responded to my touch, with subtle shifts and sighs, was like conversing in a language of sensation, each caress a word, each touch a sentence.
As my hands continued their journey, Jennie's responses turned into a symphony of their own. Her moans, soft yet resonant, were like notes rising from a well-tuned instrument, each one a melody of pleasure and surrender. The sound of her voice, humming in contentment, filled the room with a music that was deeply personal, an intimate concert shared between two souls.
Her moans ebbed and flowed with the rhythm of my touch, crescendos of sound that matched the increasing intensity of our connection. They were not just expressions of pleasure; they were communications, telling me without words how each caress, each gentle stroke was received. Her hums, low and melodic, were the bassline to the higher notes of her moans, creating a harmonious blend that was as compelling as any melody.
After savoring the sensation of Jennie's skin beneath my hands, an innate longing surged within me to delve deeper, to explore her with the intimacy of my lips. I began at her collarbone, a spot often overlooked yet brimming with delicate sensitivity. My lips traced its subtle contours, each kiss eliciting a gentle sigh from Jennie, her skin warm and soft under the tender pressure.
As I journeyed to her shoulders, the texture of her skin subtly shifted, becoming smoother, more resilient. Her responses grew in intensity, her moans a testament to the changing sensations my lips invoked. The scent of roses from her perfume grew stronger here, mingling with her natural fragrance to create an intoxicating aura.
Gliding down her arm, I reveled in the silkiness of her skin, each kiss a discovery of her unique topography. But it was at her armpit where I lingered, captivated by the uniqueness of this hidden enclave. The texture here was more intimate, the skin softer and imbued with a deeper scent that was unmistakably Jennie - raw and personal. Her reaction was more pronounced; her moans louder and filled with a depth that spoke volumes of the pleasure she felt.
As my lips finally reached the crest of Jennie's chest, the change in texture was profound. Her breasts, tender and full of life, responded to each kiss with a symphony of sensation. The delicate softness beneath my lips felt like the most luxurious satin, each touch deepening our connection. The subtle firmness of her nipples, aroused and beckoning, contrasted with the yielding flesh around them.
Gently, I let my tongue dance over the stiffened peak, and Jennie's reaction was immediate. A shiver coursed through her, a physical echo of the pleasure that resonated within. Her breathing became a series of rapid, shallow waves, a delicate soundtrack to our intimate ballet.
Meanwhile, my hand ventured to its twin, mirroring the actions of my mouth. The sensation of rolling and lightly flicking her other nipple elicited from her a chorus of sensual sounds, each moan a note in our crescendoing duet.
When I enveloped her sensitive peak with my mouth, Jennie's moan - "Oh my god" - reverberated through the room. The meticulous circling of my tongue around her was a focused ritual, each motion deliberate and attuned to her responses. The flavor of her skin was a delicate blend of sweetness tinged with the saltiness of her arousal, a tantalizing taste that drew me deeper into the moment. Her chest pushed forward, eager to meet the onslaught of stimulation with an intuitive abandon.
"I forgot how good you feel," I murmured, my voice tinged with a deep arousal, the words escaping almost involuntarily.
"I want to feel you too," Jennie responded, her voice a breathless mixture of playfulness and desire, sending a jolt of longing straight through me. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic like the midnight sky, held mine with an intensity that spoke volumes. Her hand traced a path up my arm, gliding over the contours of my shoulder, then wrapping around to my back with an electrifying touch that felt like a firebrand on my skin.
With an urgency that mirrored our rising passions, she tugged at my shirt, a silent beckoning for me to shed the last barrier between us. In a swift, seamless motion, Jennie peeled my shirt away, her hands immediately finding the warmth of my bare chest. Her initial feather-light touch quickly intensified, her fingers becoming more assertive, tracing and exploring my skin with a growing fervor that matched the beat of our racing hearts.
As Jennie began to mirror the way I had cherished her body, the intensity of the experience magnified. Her lips traced a path down my neck, each kiss a delicate imprint that seemed to sear into my memory. The sensation of her mouth moving across my skin was both soft and fervent, a contradiction that sent waves of pleasure through me.
Her hands, emboldened by her desire, explored the landscape of my torso. The contrast of her delicate fingertips against the firmness of my muscles created an exhilarating dance of sensations. The pressure of her touch varied, sometimes feather-light, other times more assertive, mapping the contours of my body with an attentiveness that was almost reverent. Each caress seemed to speak volumes, communicating her appreciation and desire in a language beyond words.
As she reached my chest, her exploration became more intense. The sensation of her lips against my skin was like an electric current, each kiss a spark that ignited deeper, more primal feelings within me. Her breath, warm and uneven against my skin, her soft murmurs and occasional sharp expletives, added to the crescendo of sensations, making every moment feel more heightened, more vivid.
In the midst of this exchange, a thought flickered through my mind, unbidden yet insistent. I wondered if her nights with her boyfriend held the same intensity, the same unbridled passion that we were experiencing. Was there the same depth of connection, the same exploration of senses? The thought was a sharp contrast to the immediacy of our encounter, a jarring reminder of the reality beyond this room.
Yet, as quickly as the thought came, it was swept away by the tide of our passion. The here and now was all that mattered - the feeling of her hands on me, the taste of her lips, the sound of her soft exclamations. In this moment, nothing else existed but the intensity of our rekindled connection, a fervor that seemed to eclipse all else.
"Fuck! I need your dick in my mouth," Jennie's voice was thick with desire as she slid off my lap. Her hands, eager and insistent, found their way to the waistband of my sweatpants. With a swift, almost ravenous movement, she tugged them down, freeing my aching arousal. It stood, hard and throbbing, just inches from her face. Her eyes, alight with a fiery blend of lust and hunger, locked onto mine.
"You can have it tonight," I responded, my voice a deep rumble of desire, as her small, delicate hands encircled me. The contrast of her soft touch against my hardness only heightened the moment.
"All of it?" Her question was laced with a seductive confidence, her eyes burning with an intensity that spoke volumes of her desire. I could only nod, caught up in the moment's gravity.
Leaning forward, Jennie's lips parted slightly, and she drooled over a thick glob of saliva that landed precisely on the tip. The warm fluid began to trickle down, glistening in the dim light. She deftly used her fingers to spread it, coating me in a sheen that was both slick and inviting. My entire being was alight with sensation, every nerve ending attuned to her movements as she began to work her hand along my length. Her grip was firm, her movements measured, each stroke a deliberate act of provocation.
Jennie's movements became more intense as she tilted her head, sweeping her hair to one side with a free hand while maintaining her fervent stroke. Her gaze remained locked with mine, a fiery blend of intensity and curiosity as she leaned down. The first sensation was the heat of her breath, a hot, moist whisper against my skin. Then came the slow, deliberate touch of her tongue, tracing a circle around the tip. The electricity of her touch sent a tremor through my body, a visceral reminder of our past intimacy.
As Jennie's lips enveloped the crown, the sensation was both familiar and overwhelming. Her tongue skillfully danced and teased, each movement deliberate and laden with sensation. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloped me further, each motion a blissful exploration. Time seemed to stretch and warp, the world outside our bubble ceasing to exist in the wake of her expert ministrations.
Her soft moan, vibrating around me, amplified the sensation, sending shockwaves through my body. I was caught in a spellbinding haze of pleasure, each movement she made bringing me closer to the edge of surrender. The combination of her lips, tongue, and the soft vibrations of her moans created an indescribable tapestry of pleasure, leaving me utterly enraptured.
"Holy Shit!" I couldn't hold back the moan as I found support against the couch's frame, my arms stretched out for stability. The intensity of Jennie's movements sent waves of pleasure through me, causing my head to thrash back in ecstasy. My heart raced uncontrollably, every beat echoing the mounting need within me.
Jennie's hair, a dark cascade, framed her face as she moved with a precision that was nothing short of masterful. The sensation of her lips, sliding rhythmically along my length, was unparalleled. Her ability to take me fully, her breath steady through her nose, spoke of an expertise that was both awe-inspiring and deeply arousing. The way her cheeks hollowed, the hungry suction, the repeated swallowing of my length – it was a dance of intensity and passion.
She occasionally paused, deliberately choking on the tip to gather saliva, which she then used to lubricate my entire length, enhancing the ride with each slick, smooth movement. Every action, every technique of hers was a testament to her skill, her dedication to the act transforming it into something akin to fervent devotion. The pleasure she bestowed was not just physical; it was an experience that transcended the mere act, elevating it to a form of worship.
As I felt the tide of climax beginning to rise within me, I instinctively wanted to prolong this intense experience, to savor more of Jennie's body. Gently, I tried to guide her head away, signaling my intention to pause, but she was resolute. Her determination was clear; she was intent on bringing me to the edge right then and there.
My attempts to ease her off were met with a firm slap of her hand against mine, a silent but emphatic message that she wasn't done yet. "You're giving this to me now, and you're giving me more later," she declared with a commanding tone that brooked no argument. Her eyes, alight with a fierce desire, locked onto mine, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
Jennie intensified her movements, her lips and hand working in perfect tandem. The sight of her, so engrossed in the act, her hair framing her focused expression, was utterly captivating. Each movement of her head, each stroke of her hand, was a masterful balance of pressure and rhythm, pushing me closer to the brink.
The sensory overload was overwhelming - the sight of her dedication, the feel of her mouth and hand, and the sounds of our shared pleasure filling the room. Jennie's technique was a perfect symphony of movements, each one bringing a higher crescendo of sensation, making it impossible to think of anything but the imminent and intense climax.
As the moment approached, a feeling akin to a tempestuous sea churned in my stomach, a wave of pleasure building, threatening to crest. Jennie, attuned to my nearing edge, let out a moan that mingled with the surge within me, intensifying the inevitable release. Overwhelmed, I succumbed to the climax, an eruption of sensation, met by Jennie's unwavering embrace. Her lips formed a perfect seal around me, her rhythmic strokes ensuring not a single moment was lost.
Her gaze remained locked with mine throughout, a mirror of pure satisfaction as she swallowed, taking in every part of the experience. In her eyes shone a prideful gleam, a recognition of her own prowess in guiding me to this point of surrender. Her delight was palpable, a silent celebration of the control she wielded, the pleasure she had drawn out.
As the waves subsided, leaving a trail of bliss in their wake, Jennie finally drew back, the connection gently severed, leaving us both in a state of breathless reprieve. She then picked up my shirt from the floor, using it to delicately wipe away the remnants of our encounter from her mouth and hands, her actions as deliberate and composed as they had been in the height of our passion.
Reeling from the intensity of my climax, I found myself being gently but firmly drawn back to the present by Jennie. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was soft yet charged, the taste of myself on her tongue adding a complex layer to our connection. This was more than just physical; it was an exchange of unspoken promises, a dance of intimacy and understanding.
"I'm not done with you. You brought me here, we're gonna make the most of it," she whispered against my lips, her tongue playfully darting out to trace my bottom lip. With a sudden shift, she grasped my hand and led me towards the bed, her movements fluid and purposeful.
As we moved through the suite, the sounds of the city outside filtered through the windows – the distant hum of traffic, the soft murmur of voices, the occasional siren. These were the symphonies of the night, the backdrop to our unfolding story. The room's lighting cast a soft, ambient glow, painting everything in a hue of warmth and intimacy.
As Jennie gracefully made her way onto the bed, her back presented a captivating sight. The arch of her spine flowed into the gentle swell of her hips, each movement accentuating the allure of her lower back and hips. Clad in a small black thong, her hips were teasingly framed, the fabric nestled seductively in the crevice, hinting at the hidden treasures yet to be revealed.
As she reached the center of the bed, Jennie slowly maneuvered herself into a captivating position. Her legs, long and elegantly toned, were raised and folded in a 'W' shape, an enticing display of both vulnerability and invitation. This pose accentuated the length of her legs, the curvature of her hips, and the delicate symmetry of her figure. The knee-high socks she wore added a contrasting element of innocence and playfulness to her otherwise exposed form.
Then, as if compelled by a force beyond her control, Jennie's hands embarked on a tantalizing exploration of her own body. They traced the contours of her breasts with a languorous care, each touch a study in self-adoration. The slow, deliberate movements of her fingers were hypnotic, accentuating her allure in the dimly lit room.
The transformation in Jennie's appearance since our earlier encounter was striking. Her makeup, now smudged and spread, lent her an air of wild abandon, while her hair, disheveled and untamed, framed her face in a chaotic halo. This raw, disordered state only heightened her appeal, lending her a captivating, almost intoxicating aura of realness.
Reclining gracefully, she ran a finger tantalizingly over her lips – lips that still bore the evidence of our previous passion. She continued her seductive journey, her finger tracing a path down her neck, over the gentle swell of her chest.
"come here..." she gestured over for me to join her on the bed, her tone both commanding and inviting. She turned to lay on her back, the sight of her body beckoning me forward.
Still covered by a black thong, her most intimate area was teasingly concealed, yet the way she moved hinted at what was to come. As I stepped closer, drawn in by the magnetic pull of her presence, Jennie reached down with a tantalizing slowness. Her fingers hooked onto the thin fabric of the thong, sliding it off in a motion that was nothing short of seductive. The removal of this final barrier revealed her in full, a breathtaking vision of desire laid bare before me.
In a move that was both deliberate and revealing, Jennie reached down, her hands delicately pulling at the skin on her inner thighs. This gesture was an open invitation, a welcome for my eyes to feast upon her most intimate self. As she gently parted her skin, the hidden beauty of her entrance was unveiled, a sight that was both intensely private and undeniably captivating. Her entrance glistened, its moist perfection a testament to the intensity of her arousal.
As I crawled forward onto the bed, the sensation of the soft, plush sheets against my hands was immediately noticeable. The fabric was smooth and fine, a stark contrast to the fervent energy that filled the room. Each movement I made caused the sheets to shift ever so slightly, creating a subtle but distinct sensation against my skin.
The bed itself was an island in the midst of our passion, its surface both yielding and supportive, a perfect backdrop for the intensity of the moment. As I found my place between Jennie's legs, the bed seemed to embrace us, its softness enveloping us in a cocoon of comfort and intimacy.
Jennie's body was a canvas of desire, painted with the colors of her own passion. Her skin, creamy and fair, glistened with sweat and moisture, reflecting the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Her hair framed her face in a halo of darkness, accentuating her delicate features. Her breasts, small and plump, rose and fell with each shallow breath she took, their nipples hard and erect beneath the thin sheet that covered her.
As I looked at her from my position between her legs, I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. She was naked and vulnerable, yet there was a strength in her that spoke volumes. It was as if she had shed all pretenses of modesty and embraced her true self - a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it.
Jennie's hands moved with purpose across her body, tracing lazy circles around her nipples before dipping down to explore the sensitive flesh between her legs. Her fingers were long and slender, each one ending in a sharp claw that seemed to dig into her skin with every movement. She moved with an intensity that was both mesmerizing and intimidating - a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to take it.
As I watched her touch herself, my own body began to respond to the sight before me. My heart raced in my chest as I felt my own erection begin to stir beneath my sweatpants. The thought of being with Jennie again - of feeling her body against mine - was enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through me.
I couldn't help but feel drawn to her entrance - that intimate place where she had given herself so completely to me before. As I crawled closer between her legs, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the sight before me. It was as if I were witnessing something sacred - something that belonged only to us two.
Jennie's entrance was like nothing I had ever seen before - a perfect blend of delicate petals and firm muscle. The pink flesh was soft yet firm beneath my fingertips as I traced them over the surface. The scent of wetness mingled with the aroma of sweat and lust as I explored every inch of this intimate place that belonged solely to Jennie.
As I teased her entrance with my fingers, Jennie moaned softly - a sound that sent shivers down my spine as it echoed through the room. Her body tensed beneath me as she reached out for me - drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together in an intimate embrace that seemed to transcend time itself.
I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. Jennie's entrance was like nothing I had ever seen before - a perfect blend of delicate petals and firm muscle. The pink flesh was soft yet firm beneath my fingertips as I traced them over the surface. The scent of wetness mingled with the aroma of sweat and lust as I explored every inch of this intimate place that belonged solely to Jennie. As I teased her entrance with my fingers, Jennie moaned softly - a sound that sent shivers down my spine as it echoed through the room. Her body tensed beneath me as she reached out for me - drawing me closer until our bodies were pressed together in an intimate embrace that seemed to transcend time itself.
I closed my eyes and let out a low moan as I savored the scent of her pussy, allowing it to permeate my senses and fill me with a desire that was both insatiable and exhilarating. My tongue darted out, eager to explore the fleshy depths of her entrance, and I licked the outer folds with a gentle, exploratory motion. The taste was unlike anything I had ever experienced before - sweet and salty, with just a hint of tanginess that spoke of her natural chemistry. It was intoxicating, addictive, and I found myself wanting more and more with each passing moment.
As my fingers delved deeper into her fleshy thighs, I felt a surge of pleasure course through me. The sensation was electrifying, sending shivers down my spine with each lick and suck. Her body pulsed beneath me, her hips undulating in rhythm with my movements, as if we were two dancers in perfect harmony. The sound of her soft moans filled the air, adding to the sensory experience. I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the texture of her flesh beneath my fingertips, and the taste of her juices on my lips. Every sensation was amplified, every detail was vivid, and I found myself completely immersed into her.
I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe for the view before me - it was as if I were witnessing something holy - something that belonged only to us two. With each flick of my tongue, a symphony of sensations unfolded, like a tapestry of flavors and textures. I navigated the labyrinthine depths of her crevices, discovering hidden chambers and secret alcoves that ignited my senses. The taste of her essence, both sweet and musky, mingled with the salty tang of her sweat, creating a heady elixir that intoxicated me. The warmth of her body radiated through my skin, enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. The taste intensified, the sweetness fading into something richer and more intricate - a taste that spoke of depth and complexity that mirrored our own bond.
As I delved deeper into her entrance with my flicking tongue, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what we were doing together. The world outside faded away, leaving only the raw, unapologetic sensations that coursed through our veins. Our bodies were connected by desire and passion, and we explored each other's with a sense of freedom and abandon. The taste of her essence was intoxicating, and I couldn't get enough of it. The salty tang of her sweat mingled with the sweetness of her body, creating a heady elixir that left me dizzy with pleasure. The warmth of her body radiated through my skin, enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. It was a moment of pure sensory exploration - an exchange of pleasure that transcended words or actions. It didn't matter that she was with someone, all that mattered was what we both wanted - needed..
"Oh my God!" As her slender fingers delved into the silken strands of my hair, a guttural moan escaped her lips, echoing through the dimly lit room like a siren's call. Her touch was a symphony of sensations, each caress sending shivers down my spine. It was as if she was weaving a spell, ensnaring me in a web of desire with every delicate pull and tug. "You're so good at that, Owen" Her teeth sank into the softness of her lower lip, drawing a crimson bead of blood. The skin of her neck tightened, corded muscles standing out like delicate ridges beneath the surface. A low, guttural growl escaped her throat, a primal sound that reverberated through the room.
My tongue, a fervent explorer, ventured beyond the silken folds of her womanhood, tracing the contours of her hidden desires. Each delicate stroke ignited a symphony of sensations, a chorus of whispers reverberating through her core. Her body, a finely tuned instrument, responded with a tremor, a ripple of anticipation coursing through her limbs. She writhed in agony, her limbs trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. Her stomach twisted and churned, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within her core. Her head lolled back, her eyes rolling with ecstasy as her body surrendered to the sensations coursing through her veins.
Her head arched back, a gasp escaping her lips as my tongue ventured forth, seeking the epicenter of her desire. My lips moved in a circular motion, teasing and tormenting her sensitive nub, each revolution igniting a fiery burst of pleasure that rippled through her body. Her legs tightened around my head, her toes curling in ecstasy as her hips bucked involuntarily. One of my fingers slipped down between the silken folds of her entrance, circling and probing, adding an extra layer of stimulation. The combination of my tongue and finger was too much for her, sending her spiraling into the abyss of ecstasy.
The room filled with the symphony of her moans, a primal melody that echoed off the walls. Her body writhed beneath me, her curves undulating like waves crashing against the shore. I could feel her heat and her wetness, taste her desire and her passion. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations that swirled around us like a maelstrom. My finger continued its relentless assault, tracing the contours of her entrance, teasing and probing at its delicate folds. My tongue flicked and danced across her clit, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She was a marionette in my hands, her body contorting and twisting at my every whim. Her fingernails dug into my back, leaving moon-shaped marks on my skin. I basked in the pain, a manifestation of her unyielding passion.
Diving deeper into Jennie's silken depths, I felt her body tremble beneath me, her breath hitching in ragged gasps. My tongue danced across her heated folds, swirling and teasing like a mischievous sprite. Each touch sent shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through her core, her moans escalating into a desperate symphony that filled the room. Her hips arched involuntarily, seeking more of my fervent ministrations.
With one hand buried between her legs, I reached up with the other, exploring the smooth expanse of her toned stomach. My fingers traced the contours of her abs, teasing and tormenting her sensitive navel. She arched her back, her hips bucking wildly as my tongue danced across her clit. I could feel her heat and her wetness, taste her desire and her passion. I was lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations that swirled around us like a maelstrom.
As I continued to lick and suck at her clit, I slipped a finger inside her. It slid in easily, coated in her wetness. I began to pump my finger in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue on her clit. Jennie's moans grew louder, more frenzied, her body trembling with anticipation. I could feel her muscles clenching around my finger, a sign that she was close.
With my free hand, I reached up to cup her breast, squeezing gently as my tongue continued its relentless assault on her clit. Her nipple hardened in my hand, a dark, erect bud that begged for attention. I pinched it lightly between my fingers, eliciting a sharp gasp from Jennie. Her hips bucked wildly, her body writhing beneath me as I continued to finger and lick her.
I could feel her heat and her wetness increasing, a sign that she was on the brink. With each relentless thrust, I quickened the tempo of my finger, driving it deeper into her slick, welcoming depths. I could feel her body responding, her muscles clenching and unclenching around my eager digit, a symphony of anticipation and surrender. Her breath hitched in her throat, a soft gasp escaping her lips as I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure center. My tongue danced across her clit, teasing and tormenting her sensitive nub. Jennie's moans grew louder, more desperate, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room.
In the hallowed chamber of our love, anticipation hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the promise of ecstasy. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her whispered words barely audible above the fervent rhythm of our bodies. "Owen," she breathed, "I'm so close," and I could feel the trembling of her body, the clenching and unclenching of her muscles.
We were dancing on the precipice, so close to the edge, and I couldn't resist the urge to push her over. My fingers slid deeper into her slick, welcoming depths, the tempo of our love growing faster, more intense with each passing moment. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the taste of lust, and the sweetness of surrender.
As I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure center, I could feel the tension building, the anticipation growing. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the taste of lust, and the sweetness of surrender. My fingers slid deeper into her slick, welcoming depths, the tempo of our love growing faster, more intense with each passing moment. The rhythm of our bodies was in sync, our movements fluid and graceful, as we danced on the precipice of ecstasy.
I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the beat of her heart echoing in my ears. Her whispered words of desire were like music to my ears, fueling my desire to bring her to the edge. I could sense the trembling of her body, the clenching and unclenching of her muscles, as she surrendered to the pleasure.
As I felt her body convulse around me, I knew that I had pushed her to the edge, that I had brought her to the point of no return. The intensity of our lust was overwhelming, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations that left me breathless. I could feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the softness of her hair, the taste of her lips on mine.
Her body, a symphony of rapture, throbbed beneath me, her cries of ecstasy echoing through the room. I had taken her to the precipice, and now she was free-falling into the abyss of pleasure. Her face, a canvas of desire, contorted with delight as she surrendered to the sensations that consumed her. I watched, enraptured, as she arched her back, her body trembling with the intensity of her climax. It was a moment of pure bliss, a communion of souls that transcended the physical realm.
As she finally descended from the tempestuous heights of her orgasm, Jennie lay there panting, her body still trembling like a leaf caught in an autumn gale. The aftershocks of ecstasy rippled through her, her skin flushed and damp with the nectar of our lovemaking. I moved beside her, my heart thrumming in my chest like a war drum, its beat echoing in the silence of the room like a primal chant. As I gazed into her eyes, I felt a raw, primal energy crackling between us, an electric current that coursed through our veins and ignited our souls.
After a moment, Jennie gathered herself, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looked at me with a mix of desire and longing, her eyes locked onto my erection. Without a word, she reached out and spit on it, her saliva glistening on the tip as she began to stroke me. I moaned softly, my body responding to her touch with a fierce intensity.
"Now, for the real thing," Her breath, a warm caress against my ear, whispered promises of forbidden pleasures, unspoken desires. In the hushed tones of a seductress, she confessed, "I've been thinking about this"
My heart raced as she climbed on top of me, her body pressing against mine with a force that was both
exhilarating and terrifying. As Jennie descended upon me, I was captivated by the sight of her pussy swallowing my length whole, her muscles contracting around me with a ferocity that left me breathless. The feeling was ineffable, a surge of ecstasy that coursed through me like a tempestuous storm, electrifying every fiber of my being. Her gaze bore into mine, a mixture of passion and rebellion, as she claimed my cock in her body.
Jennie's body was a sight to behold, her curves accentuated by the soft, ambient light that bathed the room in a moody, atmospheric glow. Her breasts, full and firm, swayed gently with each thrust, their dark, rosy nipples standing erect against the cool air. Her hips moved in a hypnotic rhythm, her muscles flexing with each deliberate motion as she rode me with a fervor that left me breathless.
The view was breathtaking, Jennie's face a picture of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Her eyes, dark and expressive, were filled with a raw, primal hunger that was both intoxicating and terrifying.
As we moved together, the room was filled with the symphony of our bodies slapping against each other, the wet, slick sounds of our flesh meeting in a frenzied dance of desire, like waves crashing against the shore. The air was thick with the scent of our arousal, a heady mix of sweat and sex that filled my senses and heightened my pleasure, intoxicating me with its primal allure. The rhythm of our lovemaking echoed through the room, a percussive symphony that pounded in my ears and set my heart racing with each thrust.
"Oh fuck, you're so tight," With a guttural moan, I plunged further into Jennie's depths, my body consumed by an insatiable hunger.
"And you're so big, you're stretching me out," Jennie moaned in response, her hips bucking wildly as she rode me with a fierce intensity.
"Do you like that? do you like my cock inside you? you've missed it dont you?" I asked, my voice thick with desire as I looked down at Jennie.
"yes! yes! Yes! Fuck!" Jennie cried out, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she lost herself in the moment.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the intense sensory experience that was unfolding before me. Jennie's body was a symphony of pleasure, her every movement a testament to the raw, primal power of desire. And as I lost myself in the rhythm of our bodies, I knew that I was experiencing something truly transcendent, something that would stay with me long after the last echoes of our passion had faded away.
As she began to move, I felt myself being drawn into a world of pure sensation. Every thrust, every movement, was a symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate deep within my soul. Jennie's eyes never left mine, her expression a mix of desire and determination as she rode me with a fierce intensity. I could feel her muscles clenching around me, a tight, wet heat that seemed to pull me deeper into her body with each passing second.
With a sudden surge of energy, I flipped her onto her back, guiding her legs apart as I positioned myself above her. Our eyes locked in a heated gaze as I plunged deeper into her, my body responding to her cries of desire with a feral intensity.
In this newfound position, I was able to control the depth and pace of our lovemaking, driving myself into her with an insatiable hunger. The headboard creaked against the wall in time with our frantic rhythm, the room filled with the wet sounds of our passionate union. Her hands gripped my back, nails digging into my skin as we moved together as one.
With each thrust, our bodies collided in a symphony of sensations – the slickness of our skin meeting in a primal dance, the soft moans escaping Jennie's lips as she arched her back to meet my every movement. Sweat glistened on both our bodies, beading on our skin like liquid diamonds under the dimmed lights. Her breasts bounced with each impact, nipples hardened and begging for attention. I reached down to tease them roughly, eliciting a gasp from Jennie that spurred me onward.
I could feel every ripple and fold of her wet heat enveloping me, clenching around my length like a vice. The scent of our arousal hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating – fueling the fire that burned between us. As I watched our reflection in the mirrored ceiling above us, I marveled at the sight: two bodies entwined in an age-old dance, seeking solace and release in each other's arms.
As I pushed into her further, I raised Jennie's elongated, slender limbs by their ankles, spreading them outward for my access. The visual before me was captivating - her toned thighs glistening with perspiration, her delicate toes curling and uncurling as I kissed and licked upon them. Her thin arms quivered with ecstasy. One hand clung tightly to the bedsheets, the other meandering down to manipulate her breasts, pinching and tugging at the firm nipples that stood upright against the cool atmosphere. Her eyelids were shut, her visage a blend of pleasure and agony as she yielded herself to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her entire body.
Jennie pulled me down to kiss her, her lips soft and warm against mine. Our tongues danced together in a frenzied rhythm, mirroring the movements of our bodies below. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath hot and heavy in my ear as she urged me onward. My thrusts did not stop, my body driven by a primal need to claim her once more.
Her nails raked down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, fueling the flames of our passion even further. Our bodies collided with an intensity that belied the passage of time, as if we were two souls trapped in an endless loop of desire and need. The room was filled with the sound of our moans and gasps, a symphony of lust that echoed off the walls. The scent of our arousal hung heavy in the air – musky and intoxicating – as we raced towards that elusive peak together.
In this moment, there was only us – two people lost in a sea of passion, seeking solace and release in each other's arms. As I looked into her dark eyes, I saw the same longing and desire that burned within me.
Soon after we switched positions, Jennie was on all fours, presenting her luscious ass to me as I entered her from behind. I couldn't help but admire the view before me – her toned backside, the delicate dip of her spine, and the way her hair cascaded down her back in a waterfall of ebony silk. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, accentuating every curve and contour of her body.
As I positioned myself behind her, I marveled at the sight of my cock sliding into her wet heat once more. The sensation was indescribable – hot, tight, and wet; it felt like coming home. With each thrust, I could feel every ripple and fold of her inner walls clenching around me, as if she were trying to hold onto me forever. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, a primal symphony that echoed off the walls.
In this position, Jennie's body took on an even more alluring form –�� hips curved in invitation; and thighs spread apart in wanton display. Her back arched gracefully, accentuating the perfect curve of her spine and emphasizing the delicate line of her neck. It was a breathtaking sight, truly awe-inspiring - this beautiful creature beneath me, her body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, her breath hitching with every thrust I made. Her moans, they were like sweet music to my ears, filling the room with an erotic symphony that echoed off the walls. They were desperate pleas for more, whispers of pleasure intermingling with the rhythmic crescendo of our bodies colliding. The sight and sounds of Jennie in the throes of ecstasy was intoxicating, pushing me further to the edge.
Every thrust was a desperate attempt to fuse our bodies together, to become one with this woman who held my heart captive. Our bodies collided with a force that belied the tenderness of our earlier lovemaking, a raw and primal display of unrestrained passion.
I reached down, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her spine, feeling the soft texture of her skin beneath my fingertips. Her body trembled beneath my touch, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. I leaned down and kissed her neck, my lips trailing a path of fire down to her collarbone. She moaned softly, her head tilting back to give me better access.
My hands slid down her body, cupping her firm buttocks. I squeezed gently, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. Her hips moved involuntarily against mine, a desperate plea for more. I responded by thrusting into her with renewed vigor, my body driven by a primal need to claim her.
Jennie's body trembled beneath me, her muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she neared the precipice of release. Her body was a canvas of pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat as she writhed beneath me.
I could feel it too, the heat and tightness building between us, the overwhelming need to explode in a symphony of pleasure. It was like a volcano ready to erupt, the pressure building and building.
"Owen," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "I'm so close."
Her hushed murmurs were barely perceptible over the symphony of our pounding hearts and the wet slap of our bodies colliding in a rhythm as old as time itself. The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, intoxicating me with every breath I took. I carefully parted the supple curves of her ass, my gaze transfixed on the provocative sight before me: myself buried deep within her slick, welcoming folds.
"I'm close too, fuck! I'm gonna cum" I surrendered to the primitive instinct within me, my hips driving against her with newfound urgency. The soft, supple curves of her back molded perfectly against the harsh angles of my chest and abdomen. Her skin was a living flame beneath my fingertips – hot, slick, and glistening with sweat that clung to her like a second skin. The intoxicating taste of salt and woman filled my mouth as I pressed kisses along the graceful arch of her neck, each one drawing a gasp or a moan from her lips in response.
Such sweet music she made – soft sighs and whimpers that danced in harmony with the symphony of our bodies colliding in rhythmic unison. They were notes on an erotic sonnet, each one resonating deep within me, igniting sparks that threatened to consume me whole.
As the intensity of our coupling began to overwhelm me, I felt my legs quivering, the pressure mounting and threatening to spill over. With a firm grip on her shoulders, I channeled all my strength into thrusting against her - plunging into Jennie with an urgency borne of pure desire and unbridled lust. Each thrust resonated deep within me, stirring up a tempest of emotions that swirled in harmony with the rhythm of our bodies colliding. The sweet friction generated by our union was as intoxicating as it was maddening.
The intensity of her orgasm was like a tidal wave, crashing over me and pulling me under. I could hear her screams of pleasure, echoing in my ears as she came undone beneath me. Her body trembled and quivered, every muscle taut and tense as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. Her nails dug into my back, leaving crescent moons etched into my skin as she held on for dear life. The sensation of her walls clenching around me, milking me for all I was worth, was almost too much to bear. I felt myself losing control, my own climax building rapidly as I thrust into her with abandon.
"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned, my voice strained and desperate. "I'm gonna cum."
"Oh my God, Owen!" She cried out, her voice a desperate plea. "Fill me up!"
With a final, desperate thrust, I let go. The pleasure exploded outwards from my core, a blinding white light that consumed me whole. I felt myself spill into her, my release warm and thick as it filled her to the brim. Her body shook beneath me, her walls milking me for every last drop as she came undone once more. With a surge of desire, her inner walls gripped me tightly, milking every inch of my throbbing cock as she pressed herself against my groin. Her body trembled beneath me, the rhythmic motion causing her juices to mix with the heat of my own release, filling her to the brim with my essence. The sensation was overwhelming and intoxicating, a swirl of pleasure and wetness.
The culmination overwhelmed us, a torrent of delight that teetered on the edge of being unbearable. This peak, an oft-experienced sensation, was a mass consumption of joy that stemmed from my very essence. It was like a dazzling white glare, a flood tide crashing over me and pulling me under its swell. The impact nearly felt scary, but in the most positive way. It was as if each sensory neuron in me had been ignited, a harmonious symphony of sensations that left me breathless and quivering with fulfillment.
As the waves of pleasure began to subside, I collapsed onto the bed beside her, my body spent and satisfied. I pulled her close, my arm wrapped around her waist as I pressed kisses to her neck and shoulder. Her body was still trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her breath.
I looked into her eyes, and what I saw there was a mixture of pleasure and longing, a deep emotional and physical satisfaction that mirrored my own. I held her in my arms, her body still trembling from the force of our climax. Her hair was plastered to her face, sweat sticking to her skin in a way that only added to her allure. She was breathtaking – a sight that I knew I would never grow tired of. As she lay there in my arms, panting and heaving, I couldn't help but think about what could have been between us.
The intensity of our connection flooded my mind with memories and regrets. I thought back to our time together years ago, when things were different. When the possibilities between us seemed endless. Back then, I had felt the magnetic pull towards her – the urge to give myself to her fully, to commit everything I had. But the fear always held me back, gripping my heart like a vise. I was terrified of losing myself in her, of the vulnerability that comes with true intimacy. So I held back, keeping her at arm's length even as we shared our bodies and souls.
She had wanted more, I knew that even then. I could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at me – that simmering desire for the whole of my heart. But the fear was too strong, the habit of self-protection too ingrained. And so she eventually moved on, leaving me bereft and full of remorse.
Now here she was again, trembling in my arms like she belonged there. The old longings came flooding back, mingled with regret. If only I could go back and choose differently, give her the love she deserved. But it was too late for that. The best I could do was cherish these stolen moments together, even as I knew deep down that I would inevitably pull back again. She was my North Star, my guiding light – but one that I could never fully reach no matter how hard I tried. The thought filled me with equal parts bliss and anguish. I held her tighter as she drifted off to sleep, wishing I could freeze this moment forever. --
I draw an elongated, languid pull from my cigarette, allowing the nicotine to seep into my bloodstream as I linger on this balcony, my perch above the dazzling, pulsating cityscape of New York. The night air is sharp, a crisp contrast to the lingering warmth that still clings to my skin—a souvenir from our passionate interlude.
Inside, Jennie is nestled in the land of dreams, her petite frame delicately cocooned in the luxurious hotel sheets that still bear the scent of our shared desire. I ought to join her, to envelop her in my arms and surrender to the beckoning call of sleep. However, a restless energy pervades my being, my mind a volatile whirlpool in the aftermath of our tempestuous coupling.
Jennie, a beautiful enigma, belongs to another now—Yet, tonight, we merged in a wild conflagration of raw desire, our bodies entwining in a dance as old as time itself, lost in a sea of ecstasy. I staked my claim on every inch of her, driven by a primal need to etch myself into her memory, an indelible mark she'd never be able to erase. Her nails etched a path of fervor down my back, her cries a symphony spurring me forward as we hurtled towards the precipice of oblivion. And when that moment of release arrived, it was a cataclysm—a searing flash of divine perfection that shattered us, only to rebuild us anew.
Commitment has always been my Achilles heel, a specter I avoid with the agility of a seasoned matador. It terrifies me, this concept of vulnerability and surrender. The lessons life has imparted have taught me that nothing golden remains, so I seize my moments of joy with a fierce grip, refusing to hold too tightly lest they slip away. I prefer to exist in a world of beautiful fragments, a mosaic of fleeting moments, rather than be tethered to a monotonous eternity. These thoughts weave their way through my mind as I exhale the ashen smoke from my lips, the remnants of my vice liberated from the confines of my lungs.
I flick the cigarette over the edge, its glowing cherry tracing a fleeting arc in the obsidian night, a dying star lost in the city's neon abyss. Jennie, she is my Polaris, an immutable point of light guiding my aimless wanderings even when she's a universe away. The distance between us may stretch into miles, yet I find myself perpetually ensnared in her cosmic pull, tethered to the irresistible gravity of her radiance.
Perched high above the city, I cast my gaze downwards, drinking in the nocturnal theater below. A ceaseless ballet of headlights, the urban arteries throbbing with life—cars darting like metallic fish, blaring horns that sing a discordant symphony of the city's pulse. Amid the clamor, a melody tiptoes into my consciousness, a haunting siren's song birthed from the events of the night. My next creation, a symphony of sentiments woven into delicate prose, stands ready to unfurl. It's an intimate piece of my soul, a whisper of my essence, something to bare and share with the world. A tapestry of words dipped in the hues of my deepest longings, a lingering echo of my heartbeat, yearning to resonate in the hearts of those willing to lend an ear;
I'm in town for one night, one night only
I came around to put it down, for one night only
Just one night
Got a room for me and you, for one night only
You wanna ride for a lifetime, this is one night only
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My first fic, hope you guys like it.
883 notes · View notes
zazter-den · 1 year ago
Text
Sweet Tooth
Minors Do Not Interact
Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.
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Synopsis- Izuku likes the freedom of being a very private business owner when he has dual lives to run. After all it allows him to "hire" himself as a new worker to get close to Barista!Reader- Wait, why do you smell burnt?
Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Stalking, Drugging, Overstim, Size Diff, Mindbreak.
Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Rabbit!Izuku, Dom!Izuku, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Kitchen sex, Scentmarking, Creampie, Excessive seed, Undercover boss, Oral!receiving.
Word Count- 8.1K, because apparently I missed the coziness of Autumn
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Izuku sat in the manager's office, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the skylight, casting a gentle radiance upon his features. Short, curly forest green hair, slightly disheveled from his earlier preparations, framed his face in an endearing manner as he sat back in the cushy chair. His emerald green eyes, filled with anticipation, seemed to glimmer and reflect the moonlight, adding a glow to his gaze.
Sitting up, he carefully removed his silver rings with practiced ease, each etched with swirling thorned vines and placed them into a velvet-lined box before making his way to the safe hidden in the wooden paneling of the small room.
Next, Izuku's attention turned to his hunting knife, a weapon as beautiful as it is deadly. He gripped the handle, his hand steady and sure, and twirled it effortlessly in the air. The moonlight danced along the metal, illuminating the intricate green thorn designs that ran down the blade. With a measured flick of his wrist, Izuku sheathed the blade, and it disappeared into the hidden safe. The compartment closed with a soft click, concealed behind an intricately designed wooden panel once again. Sealing away his secrets until they are needed once more.
Leaving the manager's office behind, Izuku made his way through the empty cafe, his steps light and silent as he headed toward the kitchen to prepare for the day ahead. The 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe's pristine jade green walls, soft lighting, and delicate hanging glass terrariums created a serene atmosphere, inviting its inhabitants to relax and escape the chaos of the outside world. Izuku being no exception.
In the quiet solitude of the kitchen, the signature evergreen scent of the café mingled with the aroma of matcha and lime. Izuku's tall figure gracefully moved around the kitchen, his large rabbit ears twitching with every soft sound. Like second nature, he set up the kitchen before taking the bright green citrus butter out of the fridge.
When it came to rabbit hybrids, most people weren't used to seeing Flemish Giants. Clad in a light green t-shirt, tightly hugging his well-defined muscles, Izuku's towering physique was more reminiscent of a predator hybrid, his strength barely hidden beneath a veneer of dorky charm and wit.
With precise movements, Izuku began preparing the perfectly striped, two-toned croissants that the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe is known for. He measured the ingredients meticulously, his attention to detail reflected in every step. There is a comfort and tranquility in the act of creating, a stress reliever that he cherished amidst his dual lives.
The rhythmic sound of his palm hitting the dough, gently flattening it, filled the dark kitchen. Izuku's movements are methodical and precise, almost hypnotizing, as he continued to work on the matcha-lime croissant dough. His thoughts drifted to his upcoming shift with you, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement wash over him.
Izuku was under your spell from your very first shift at one of his cafes. He had watched you on the security cameras for months, studying every little detail. Your moves, your smile, the way you interacted with customers. Izuku was drawn to you like a moth to flame, captivated by charm and spirit.
Izuku imagined you standing there, your lovely form illuminated by the soft café lights, under the delicate swaying terrarium spheres. He could already see himself making your favorite flavored latte, as he's seen you make it countless times on the security feed. How many times did he tweak that syrup to get it just to your liking? The thought of serving you a cup he made himself brought a smile to his face, his green eyes glowing with anticipation.
Lost in his fantasies, Izuku accidentally spilled some flour onto his t-shirt. Chuckling softly to himself, he brushed off the white powder and ran his fingers between his ears and through his short curly forest green hair, basking in the thrill of the upcoming shift.
He focused his attention on the task at hand, skillfully wrapping the mix in plastic wrap and placing it in the fridge to rest until tomorrow. Drumming a brawny calloused hand against the fridge door, he grabbed a sheet of pre-chilled blueberry-lemon dough before closing the door with his heel.
At the kitchen island counter, Izuku's hands worked the dough skillfully, his fingers deftly shaping it into perfect croissants. The dough was soft and pliable, and Izuku liked the feel of the texture against his fingertips. It was smooth and velvety, the aroma of smashed berries and lemon rind wafted through the air as he worked. Izuku appreciated scents that complimented his own. Citrus, teas, your jasmine-like signature.
Shaping the pastry mix, his mind briefly wandered to thoughts of what it would be like to touch you, to feel your curves beneath his hands. Lost again in daydreams, Izuku envisioned the feel of your silky skin against his callouses and scars, his mind conjuring images of your usual flowery fragrance intertwining with his yuzu and evergreen scent. The thought of your lips, soft and inviting, added to his desires, and his thoughts wandered to the taste of you, the way your lips would feel against his own.
Izuku's mind is completely consumed by the thought, and he could feel the heat pooling rapidly within him. He desperately wanted to trace the contours of your body, his fingertips exploring every inch, as his desire continued to build. His breath grew heavy. With a raspy whimper escaping his lips, Izuku momentarily lost himself in his fantasies, feeling bead of pre-cum line the tip of his straining erection. The excitement building within him became overpowering, overwhelming his senses.
As his arousal grew, Izuku's scent turned musky, blending with his natural citrus evergreen aroma. Izuku's eager slit continued to weep the viscous fluid, the sticky patch of his boxers trapped against the thick head of his dick. As he continued his task, every so often the precum slick fabric would slide forcefully against his tip, eliciting another deep groan from his lips. His need for you at this point was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and his foot tapped on the floor in rabbit-like frustrated anticipation.
It was a struggle for Izuku to maintain focused on his work, his mind overloaded with longing and the intense desire to fulfill every single one of his fantasies with you. He took a moment to compose himself, releasing a pent-up growl of frustration under his breath. He couldn't afford to lose his shit on day one and scare you off, he wasn't some amateur.
Knowing he must regain control, Izuku attempted to once again throw himself into getting the shop ready for the morning rush. With a reluctant sigh, Izuku carefully took out the raspberry two-toned croissants that he had prepped the day before, placing them on the kitchen island counter to be baked for today's morning rush.
Izuku looked at the clock hanging on the wall, he just needed to be patient.
⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱
When you first stirred from slumber, your first instinct was to dive back under the blankets in the pre-dawn darkness. Slowly peeling back the covers of your cozy bed, the moon cast a dim glow through the window, barely highlighting your room.
As you slid your feet out from under the quilts and sat up in the chilly room, your sleep blurred gaze fell on the neatly arranged uniform laid out on the dresser. The tan and jade green dress holds an air of cute professionalism and elegance, perfectly suited for your role at one of the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafes.
As you took off your pajamas, your gaze wanders downward, landing upon the growing bruises and scratches that marred your sore hips. You shook your head softly, a mix of emotions flooding rational thoughts. Last night with Katsuki, the tiger you shared your apartment with, had been...intense to say the least, at times his territorial nature could cross bounds. It seemed his bestial inclinations towards you often manifested in these marks and an aching pussy full of the feral feline's load. It had been necessary to join him in the bath, to wash away any traces of other scents but his own, before he was satisfied last night.
Tossing your head in frustrated resignation, you took a deep breath, attempting to push the memory of those bruises aside. You adjusted your uniform in the mirror, determination to face the day with your usual brand of professionalism. With each careful movement, you purposefully shed the weight of hectic apartment life, transforming into the dedicated and fun-loving barista that your colleagues and patrons know you to be.
The early morning air carried an invigorating crispness as you stepped out of your apartment, the pitch darkness of the night slowly yielding to a beautiful, dark purple sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a gentle luminescence upon the world below. The beauty of the early morning took your breath away.
Walking through the quiet streets, you took in the sights of the autumn morning. Vibrant hues of orange and red adorned the foliage, casting a mystical fall atmosphere all around. The gentle crunching of leaves under your feet became a soothing background melody, heightening your anticipation for the day to come. It's a picturesque scene that brings a smile to your face as you take in the beauty around you.
The short walk to the 'Lunar Rabbit' café is refreshing, the cool breeze gently caresses your skin, and you can't help but lift your face towards the sky, embracing the tranquility of the morning. The scent of dew-kissed grass and the earthy fragrance of autumn fills the air, creating a calming atmosphere.
Unlocking the door, you entered the cozy café intricately designed with a charming lunar forest theme. Most of the walls were adorned in a relaxing jade green color, with glistening glass sphere terrariums hanging gracefully from the ceiling. Creating a sense of tranquility whenever the light caught the floating gardens just right.
But it's the back wall mural that always draws the attention of customers—a breathtaking depiction of ethereal rabbits, crafted from swirling shadows, engaged in a graceful dance beneath a moonlit sky adorned with countless stars.
The careful brush strokes bring the scene to life, immersing you in a mysterious and whimsical world. The rabbits are beautifully painted, their whirling silhouettes seem to come alive under the gentle glow of dawn and fairy lights, creating an otherworldly ambiance. It's a mesmerizing sight in the early morning, one that never failed to captivate you in the dark hours.
You stepped into the dim kitchen, a sense of familiarity washing over. The soft glow of the moon outside cast a gentle illumination, highlighting the edges of the counter tops and appliances. You began gathering the necessary ingredients to create the delectable quiches that will soon grace the cafe's display case.
The movement is sudden. You only caught the shifting of shadows on the opposite side of the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Your heart thumped rapidly against your chest as your attention was drawn to the mysterious figure standing upright near the ovens, rising to full height in a fluid motion. The towering silhouette seemed to materialize out of nowhere from the depths of the dark kitchen. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes glimmer in the shadows, as if they were momentarily aglow with a vivid emerald light.
The initial shock sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your previously fatigued body. Startled by the unexpected sight, your muscles tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the hulking man's presence, you ran through your options.
Then Izuku shifted forward, the illumination from the skylight instantly brightening his features. The ethereal glow revealed his forest green ears nestled in curly hair, and vivid green eyes, capturing the essence of mischief and charm that so often accompanies his presence. A genial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, “Mornin'!” he chirped, closing the oven behind him, the raspberry croissants settled on the racks. His soft rabbit ears entirely too perky for this pre-dawn hour.
Recognition immediately dawned on you, and a mix of relief and frenzied amusement flooded your features. A little laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of underlying nervousness, as your eyes met Izuku's. "Midoriya! Damn, you scared me." you exclaimed, the words tumbling out with a hint of manic energy. Izuku's grin widened as you stammered, the sound of his name on your lips seemingly delighting him. Your laughter lingered in the air, relief palpable. All you could do is laugh off the initial fright, glad to see a familiar face in the dimly lit tranquility of the kitchen.
Wait.
Your brow furrowed as confusion washed over. The gears in your exhaustion-addled mind began to turn, piecing together the inconsistency of Izuku's presence in the closed cafe at such an early hour. As a new employee, Izuku shouldn't have the keys to the establishment. "How did you get in?" You blurted out, voice equal parts curiosity and suspicion. You looked at him, searching for an explanation.
Attempting to quell any rising doubts, Izuku quickly weaved a web of deception, words slipping off his silver tongue with practiced ease. His response was laced with an air of authority, as if the decision had been handed down by corporate in a moment of desperation. "Ms.Usagiyama gave me a key," he stated, his voice confident and unwavering. "They needed someone to fill in as an overnight baker, and it seems I was their best option."
When was the last time he had called her anything but Mirko?
Your surprise was blatantly displayed across your face as you registered the information. You didn't expect management, especially Rumi, to be handing out keys so freely and enlist new employees for overnight baking duties. Then again... given the rather unexpected departure of one of the bakers, you supposed the situation must be dire enough to warrant such desperate measures given the shop's popularity.
“...It'll be nice to have help in the mornings” With a shrug, you dismissed your initial doubts, content to accept Izuku's explanation. After all, you're just a team lead, not really the position to harp on the decisions made by upper management when you'll only get a headache for your trouble. As the manager of your location, Rumi can deal with that nonsense. The fact that you're just honestly grateful for the extra hands during the morning rush seems to override any lingering uncertainties.
You stretched your arms out wide, movements fluid and graceful, as a yawn escaped your lips. Fatigue lingered beneath the surface, evident in the slight droop of your eyelids and the darkened circles barely visible beneath your eyes. A testament to your restless night of sleep, body aching from the intensity of the “bath” you shared with Katsuki.
You offered Izuku a small, tired smile as you spoke, voice carrying a soft, lingering weariness. "I'm going to get the quiches ready in the other oven," you said with sleepy determination.
A moment later, as you set about your task, Izuku's acute senses detected a faint scent of burning sugar, tickling the edges of his nostrils. His eyes immediately darted towards the ovens, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the raspberry croissants had only just begun baking, their doughy forms barely touched by the heat. He dismissed the fleeting scent, assuring himself that it must have been a mere figment of his imagination.
Silently observing you moved past him, Izuku's gaze lingered on the circles under your eyes, a telltale sign of exhaustion and a restless sleep. Concern flickered in his emerald gaze, a twinge of protectiveness already tugging at his chest. He silently resolved to ensure that in time you understood that he was there for your well-being, even if you remained blissfully unaware of his true intentions.
Taking it upon himself to ease your tiredness, Izuku moved with a flurry of efficiency at the tea counter. His fingers gracefully danced across the array of tea leaves, their aroma filling the air, selecting his own special blend to help ease your weary spirit. His movements were precise and purposeful, a silent gesture of care for the woman who stood just a few feet away. You vaguely heard the clink of one of the kettles, as he prepared a cup colored with your favorite hue.
You carefully closed the door of the oven, the final quiche now tucked away to bake to golden perfection. You wiped your hands on your apron, turning around just as Izuku walked over, cradling a cup of tea in his large hands. Leaning against the kitchen island, your tired eyes blinked back the haze of exhaustion, momentarily jolted back to alertness as Izuku approached.
“This the seasonal energy tea blend?” Your gaze drifted down to the cup, its colorful pattern a perfect match to your favorite shade. You paused for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but quickly brushed off the coincidence. After all, how could the new guy know such a personal detail? Thanking Izuku with a sweet smile, you accepted the cup and immediately felt the relaxing warmth it radiated.
The steam rose in ethereal tendrils, almost imperceptible in the dim light that filtered through the skylight overhead. Your eyes followed the wisps up towards the still dark pink sunrise through the window, their graceful dance capturing your attention briefly before you brought the cup to your lips.
With each passing second, Izuku's senses were assailed by that same faint smell that evoked a sense of ...smoke? His brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It lingered in the air, a faint odor that didn't align with the barely warm food in the oven. Izuku couldn't have known it was due to Katsuki, your territorial roommate, his pheromones carrying a note of smoldering embers. The scent itself evoked a strong dislike within Izuku, as his attention to detail in the pastry-making artistry made even the slightest indication of burning a source of disdain. Izuku swept over the kitchen, muttering to himself, trying to locate the source of the offensive smell.
As your finished the last sip of the steaming tea, a wave of warmth washed over you, permeating your body from the inside out. The autumn morning chill retreated, replaced by a comforting sensation that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. The embrace of the herbal infusion wove its soothing spell, making you feel pleasantly drowsy in the brisk kitchen.
"I'm thinking this new morning tea is a miss" you muttered as you glared half-heartedly at the leaf dregs of the delicious brew. The aching fatigue that had clung to you began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle drowsiness that weighed down your eyelids. A yawn escaped your lips, body responding to the tea's intended purpose. Izuku stepped close, closer than necessary, as he reached out to take the empty tea cup from your hand.
You held out the cup, your hand hovering in the air as Izuku moved closer. But it's in that moment, as Izuku inhaled the lingering scent, nose giving a small twitch, that his gaze narrowed with a sudden intensity. Your drowsy mind failed to register the glare of his emerald eyes, an indication of something more than casual curiosity.
"Why...do you smell like you fell in a damn bonfire?" Izuku's words carried a sharpness, a demand rather than mere inquiry. They sliced through the air, hanging there with a weight that is impossible to ignore. His voice had cut through the air with an uncharacteristic edge, void of the easygoing nature she had come to associate with the coworker facade he portrayed.
Your heart skipped a beat, embarrassment flooding your features as Izuku's question settled in. You were stunned for a moment, the truth of the situation hanging heavily on your heart. Of course, you realized, Izuku's hybrid senses would pick up the scent left behind by Katsuki last night. How could you forget?
Scratches, cum, and pheromones laid on you the night before when Katsuki sensed Izuku's touch from when he thanked you during training. His possessiveness in the bath had been clear, his words a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.
A knot formed in the pit of your stomach as embarrassment filled your voice, intertwining with a shard of defiance. "I...uh...had a bit of a disagreement with my room mate last night," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But it's nothing to worry about, really."
Your admission threatened to tip the scales of the delicate equilibrium. Whether or not you were fully aware, the territorial boundaries have already been drawn between the territorial tiger and the love-mad hare. The situation a powder keg waiting to ignite, and Izuku the bastard he is, was going to make sure it blew up in the face of this “room mate” of yours.
Izuku's large hands swiftly found their place on your hips, his touch firm yet careful. In one fluid motion, he effortlessly lifted you clean off your feet and placed you onto the island counter. The contrast in your heights is stark, you find yourself still having to tilt your chin to look up in shock at Izuku. His long ears twitched with barely restrained irritation.
As Izuku's nose scrunched involuntarily, a mix of emotions surged within him. The scent of Katsuki, with its notes of cayenne, brown caramel, and smoldering embers, emanated from you like a provocative challenge even without a claim on your neck. To Izuku, it reeked like burnt sugar, an acrid aroma that didn't deserve a place within the confines of his shops.
His possessive instincts kicked into overdrive, an unwavering determination surging through his veins. He leaned down, his breath warm against the soft skin of your neck, his voice dropping to a low, firm tone. "You know," he began, his voice carrying a velvety cadence. "we can't have you smelling like that. It doesn't suit you, and it definitely doesn't suit this cafe."
“After all, who wants to eat in a smoky bakery?” Izuku finished as he knelt with calculated grace, his strong, muscular frame shifting closer to your exposed thighs. As he positioned himself between your parted legs, Izuku's eyes lock onto yours. In the short time you've known him, Izuku's eyes have never seemed this intense, brimming with an unwavering determination to claim you as his, to erase any trace of Katsuki's scent and replace it with his own. Your breath hitched softly, eyes widening at the audacity of Izuku's actions. Looking down at the fierce Flemish Giant between your thighs, you weren't sure you really wanted him to stop, consequences be damned.
Leaning back against the cold counter top, you let out a soft gasp as Izuku's lips met the inside of your knee. The contrast between the cool stone and the warmth of his mouth adds to the growing pleasure that courses through your body.
As Izuku's lips continued their path up your thigh, he deftly moved your cute underwear down your trembling legs. a shiver ran down your spine as the cold morning air kissed your exposed folds. The delicate material glided lower, clinging momentarily to your thighs before slipping over your uniform shoes.
Izuku's emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a moment to appreciate the shade of green of the fabric. You're already wearing his color, he couldn't have planned it better himself. With a small grin against your soft skin, he quickly tucked your panties into his pocket, claiming another piece of you for himself while he distracted you with kisses and nips along your thigh.
Izuku's chuckle had a dark edge to it, tinged with an unmistakable sense of triumph as Katsuki's scent gradually began to dissipate. Your slick hole starting to carry the familiar fragrance of your usual jasmine, proof of Izuku's determined assertion of dominance over any traces of his new rival's presence.
With a deliberate and confident movement, Izuku pushed the bottom of your thighs up, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders and positioning himself between your legs. His biceps barely flexed as his large tan hands gently scooted your hips closer to the edge of the counter, granting him better access to your tantalizingly wet pussy. The shadowy figures of your bodies blended together in the dark kitchen, the only source of light being the faint glow of the dark pink sunrise streaming through the skylight above. The faint rays of the sunrise dance across Izuku's face, highlighting his handsome features and the determination in his emerald green eyes.
Izuku's lips found their way to your tender slit, his tongue gently flicking and teasing your hooded pearl. The expert motions and the expert blend of pleasure and pressure elicited from his mouth heightened the sensations coursing through your body, intensifying your pleasure with each passing moment. Your taste was intoxicating to him, driving his desire further, as if he can't get enough.
Then again, he always did have a sweet tooth.
As his tongue hungrily slipped inside your aching cunt, suddenly the weight of Izuku's actions broke through the sleepy haze. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had with Katsuki the night before, a warning that now echoed in your head. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, "My room mate is gonna be pissed.” You groaned into your hands. The memory of Katsuki's threat looms in the back of your mind, a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.
Izuku lifted his gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across slick lips, as he locked eyes with you. His rabbit ears moved, playfully expressing his amusement. "Oh? And what is your room mate gonna do?" he retorted, a playful challenge in his voice. Without a hint of hesitation, he dives back down, his lips and tongue resuming their intoxicating dance against your sensitive folds and clit . He seemed completely unfazed by the threat, his confidence unyielding, a trait born of his secret life.
Even though the haze of pleasure, you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether you should reveal the full extent of Katsuki's threat. Reluctantly, you gave in, letting the words slip out before your pleasure-addled brain could catch up. "He said he was gonna 'put you in the ground'," you admitted, lust thick voice tinged with a hint of unease.
Izuku's grip on your hips tightened, his possessive desire flaring again within him. The threat of violence from Katsuki barely registers as a deterrent. With a sinister glimmer in his eyes, Izuku responded, his voice laced with barely-contained excitement. "Is that so?" he murmured darkly, relishing the challenge "Let him try, I don't see a claim on your pretty neck." Without wasting another moment, Izuku went back to work, his mouth and tongue working diligently to replace any remnant of Katsuki's presence.
Feeling a sudden surge of mixed emotions—fear, excitement, desire—your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down lightly grazing over the soft, velvety texture of Izuku's rabbit ears. They quivered beneath your touch, responding to your exploration with an almost eager sensitivity.
As your fingers tangled in his forest green locks, you felt the warmth of Izuku's growl vibrating against your sensitive pussy, an intimate sound that resonated deep within you. The way his growl reverberated against your heated core sent shivers down your spine, making your swollen clit ache with need.
Izuku's mouth continued its relentless assault on your dripping cunt, his agile tongue expertly explored every hidden crevice, every secret fold, as if he was committing your every contour to memory. Each breathless moan that escaped your lips fueled Izuku's frenzy further.
For a moment, the tension in the air feels electric, a heightened awareness of the forbidden nature of your encounter. Despite the threat hanging over Izuku's head, he had explosive pleasure coursing through your body, casting an intoxicating spell over both of you. It's a dangerous game you've walked into, driven by the irresistible magnetism that seems to resonate between you and the hybrids in your life. The world around you seemed to fade away, the though of any brewing storm quickly silenced by the chorus of your erratic breaths and the wet sounds of Izuku's devouring lips.
With each passing moment, Izuku's own arousal became more apparent, his throbbing erection pressing insistently against the fabric of his pants, boxers already growing slippery with precum. The sheer desire in his eyes lit up the dim space, reflecting the hunger growing inside, as his tongue continued its wicked exploration.
As the sensations kept building, Izuku's nibbles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs grew insistent, his teeth grazing your tender folds with just the right amount of pressure to send waves of tingling pleasure coursing through your veins. Each nip sends surges of electricity shooting up your spine, heightening your already stimulated state.
With a final, gentle nip, Izuku's attention returned to your swollen clit, his talented mouth engulfing it entirely, his tongue milking the pleasure from your body with a hunger born of his obsessive adoration.
The cold surface of the kitchen counter beneath you contrasted sharply with the scorching heat that consumed your being. It further intensified the sensations, making your body arch uncontrollably, craving more of Izuku's skilled tongue and the delicious friction against your dripping slit. As Izuku continued his tantalizing assault, a whirlwind of pleasure tore through you. Every touch, every lick, is electrifying, driving you to the edge of sanity and euphoria.
Your body responded instinctively to Izuku's ministrations, muscles tightening, drawing you closer to the precipice of your first orgasm. The familiar coil of ecstasy grew within, winding tighter with each flick of his tongue and gentle suction against your throbbing clit.
And then it happened—your climax hit you with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs. It crashed over you like a tidal wave, shattering any composure you still had and leaving you breathless and trembling. Your body quaked, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, drowning out rational thought.
As the echoes of your orgasm still shook you, Izuku didn't let up. His mouth continued to work its magic, prolonging the throes of your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of intoxication from your trembling body. The sensations are almost too much to bear, your mind spiraling in a haze of ecstasy as he licked you dry.
“Do I still reek?” Voice trembling, as you questioned whether the lingering scent of burnt caramel still clung to the air. But Izuku, always perceptive, noted the shift in your aroma, the return of your usual sweet jasmine-like scent. A return that happened a little too quickly for his oral fixation, to be quite honest.
A devious gleam danced in Izuku's emerald eyes as he listened to your words. He leaned back slightly on his knees, his chest rising and falling with his own ragged breaths. "Oh. Sorry, you still smell burnt," he lied with ease, a feigned apologetic smile playing at the corners of his lips. In this moment, he reveled in the idea of indulging his sweet tooth on the object of his obsession- You.
What was another white lie in the grand scheme of things?
Before you could respond, overcome with desire, Izuku plunged back down between your trembling thighs. The sudden latch to your swollen bead caused you to buck against the cold counter, your fingers instinctively tightening around the curls at the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, holding on for dear life. A sharp twinge of over-sensitivity mingles with the persistent pleasure, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations.
Nose pressed against your mound, Izuku's tongue delved deep, searching for every trace of their intoxicating cum. His mouth moved with a fevered rhythm, his ministrations calculated and purposeful. His tongue speared through your slick folds, flicking and teasing as if he planned to consume every intimate drop. He couldn't get enough of your taste.
Meanwhile, your body danced on the edge of ecstasy once again. The contrasting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity, sent electric currents shooting through every nerve. With each movement of Izuku's skilled tongue, your hips involuntarily bucked and writhed, seeking more of that delicious contact.
As you came a second time, a loud cry escaped your lips, reverberating through the dimly lit space. The intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, nerves tingling with each tantalizing touch of his skilled tongue.
Izuku's own desire burned hot within him, waiting to be unleashed. Amidst your writhing against his face, Izuku's hips involuntarily jerked forward, another surge of precum staining his boxers. The feeling of the slick fabric against the head of his dick only served to increase his hunger for you.
As your thighs instinctively attempted to clamp shut around Izuku's head in a desperate bid to shield your oversensitive clit, his arms flexed, exerting a near herculean strength to keep them in place. With your back arched and thighs trembling in his hands, you were entirely at Izuku's mercy. It was just easier to surrender to the Flemish Giant's powerful hold rather than fight his iron grip.
Izuku's movements remained unyielding, a relentless pace that threatened to push you past the limits of pleasure and into the realm of cumdrunk ecstasy. In all honesty however, Izuku's own need fueled his actions, his tongue dancing deftly, exploring every hidden crevice with fervor. Maybe he was the cumdrunk one at this point.
“T-too sensitive 'Zuku” your plea for him to let up fell on deaf ears as Izuku wickedly ignored your words, except for the cute way you whimpered his name. Izuku could listen to you stuttering his first name in pleasure for the rest of his life. He took pleasure in pushing you to your limits, eager to indulge in his own selfish desires without hesitation. He had waited so long for this moment, he was going to get his fill. Or at least enough to satiate him while he made his claim.
"You can handle cumming for me again," Izuku insisted, his voice filled with dark adoration as he denied you mercy, before plunging back between your folds. Fuck, he loved you clamping down on his tongue like this, he only hoped you could handle all of him.
Your body quivered in response, overwhelmed by the heightened sensitivity of the onslaught on your swollen clit. Izuku's unwavering focus and iron grip left no room for escape or mercy. His tongue pressed skillfully, teasing and taunting your most sensitive spots, delving in with fervor and purpose. The taste of you, the intoxicating flavor that mingled with your heavenly musk, is like a drug to him, an addiction that drove him deeper into his feral desires.
Your body squirmed uncontrollably, overcome by the unbearable pleasure Izuku exerted on you. Every gentle nip and forceful suck sends you writhing. In desperation, your hands find solace in reaching the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, gently tugging with an almost desperate plea. Too much..!
But far from slowing down Izuku, the sensations of your tender grip on his ears only served to fuel his primal instincts. It's as if the touch of your shaky hands ignited a feral fire within him, intensifying the frenzied pace of his ministrations. His own need reached a fever pitch, his tongue dancing with an even more voracious appetite, ravishing every inch of your cunt.
Your body reacted uncontrollably to the overwhelming sensations, saliva escaping your lips as you moaned and whimpered in a haze of pleasure. Your legs twitching and trembling, but Izuku's firm grip prevented you from dislodging him, keeping you at his mercy.
The sound of Izuku eating out your soaked cunt echoed within the otherwise empty café kitchen, the lewd noises amplified by the decorated tiles. Your grip on the base of Izuku's furry ears tightened, desperation evident as you sought an anchor to ground herself amidst the waves of pleasure forced on you.
Driven by his feral determination, Izuku continued to devour you with a relentless pace. His imposing length now popping up and over the band of his slick boxers, yearned for release. As your squirms and whimpers grew more unrestrained, your body teetered on the edge of a precipice, ready to crash to a blinding climax.
As Izuku forced a third orgasm from your bullied clit, your vision faded into a hazy whiteness, the sheer intensity of the pleasure causing your consciousness to spiral into a realm of overwhelming ecstasy. Your mind became consumed by a kaleidoscope of sensations, blurring the boundaries of pleasure and reality. Your entire being is overwhelmed by the whiteout, a surge of ecstasy that drowns out all other thoughts and sensations.
You remained lost in your own world of ecstasy, mind blissfully blank by the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. In the midst of the pleasure-induced haze, you barely registered Izuku standing to his full height pushing 7 feet, his uniform khakis and boxers shifted low on his chiseled hips. His imposing figure cast a shadow over your flushed form. He reveled in the sight of your face caught in the throes of your cumdrunk daze, body trembling and clearly craving further gratification.
Who was he to deny you?
With another shift of fabric, Izuku's thick cock sprung forth, liberated from its confines, hardened and throbbing. His erection stood tall despite it's weight, demanding attention, the embodiment of Izuku's primal nature. Flemish Giants are big in, well, every way. If your mind wasn't completely blank right now, you'd probably be worried about how the monstrous girth could fit in you. A concern Izuku clearly didn't have.
With an unquenchable desire driving him, Izuku moved between your quivering thighs, positioning himself to align with your sopping entrance still twitching from your last orgasm. The immense size of his swollen cock head presented a challenge for your tight and unprepared opening. Your poor pussy's struggle to accommodate Izuku's massive girth sent shockwaves through both of your bodies, setting the stage for the battle between resistance and persistence. Don't worry, he'll make sure he fits.
The first few frantic and desperate tries by Izuku only drew a frustrated growl from the large hybrid. Your body strained to accommodate the overwhelming size of Izuku's cock, your senses overloaded with both pleasure and over sensitivity. But with a slick pop, the tip of Izuku's engorged member finally breached your entrance, forcing its way inside.
You remained blissfully lost in a euphoric haze, your body intertwined with Izuku's as he leaned over you. The cafe's dim lighting from the sunrise cast gentle shadows across the kitchen, highlighting Izuku's disheveled green curls and the captivating glow of his emerald eyes, resembling one of the rabbits forged from swirling shadows on the mural that adorns the wall.
Leaning over you, Izuku's dominant side asserts itself, swiftly pressing your knees up towards your shoulders. Applying pressure to open them wider, he exposed every inch of your quivering slit spread tight around the head of his dick. With a growl of determination, Izuku bullied his way further inside your depths, his larger size causing a twinge of pain as he stretched you to your limit to accommodate him. Your body struggled with the difference between him and Katsuki.
The sheer size of Izuku's cock, larger than even your room mate's, brings a mixture of pleasure and ache to your sensitized cunt. While Katsuki's barbs had their own unique sting, the contrast in size between him and the rabbit currently using you like a fucktoy induced new levels of soreness and bliss.
Izuku thinks he may have found heaven when he finally breaks in your pussy enough for his monstrous dick to bottom out against your cervix. Undeterred by your cunt's struggle, Izuku sets a rapid rabbit pace, his thrusts forceful and demanding.
The sound of their intertwining bodies filled the room, the wet slapping of Izuku's balls against your ass creating a rhythm that added to the sound of their escalating pleasure. Despite the stinging stretch, you remained freely vocal, too lost in your bliss to be concerned about anything else. Izuku's moans and your cries filled the air, adding to the sinful symphony.
As Izuku's large muscles flexed, his grip on the counter edge on either side of your head tightened, seeking leverage to thrust even more deeply. His forearms came to rest on the cold surface. Your knees were pinned again Izuku's chest, as each of his motions rocked your body forcefully against the stone counter of the kitchen island.
As Izuku continued his relentless pace, his large muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, his emerald eyes shone with feral bliss. Soft forest green ears were pinned back against his curls, a clear sign of his animalistic desire taking hold. Noticing your slightly pained fucked-out expression, Izuku found a sort of sadistic glee in your reactions. He couldn't help but revel in the sense of superiority it gave him.
No fucking way that crispy room mate of yours has ever filled you like this before.
"Aw, am I too big? Does it sting?" Izuku crooned huskily in your ear, voice filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Fuck..! Taking me like such a good little pet- I knew you could handle it.” Even if his love is tainted by selfish obsession, he takes genuine pride in your resilience. Not everyone could take his bitch breaking girth the first time. Or at all.
You could only offer a weak nod in response to what little you catch of his words. Your walls clung to his thick length, the stretch more than you've ever experienced before. Yet, your blissed-out state allowed you to push through the discomfort of having your guts rearranged, exchanging it for a facet of ecstasy that only Izuku could provide. You were intoxicated.
The grip of your walls around his pulsing member further fueled his desire, his relentless pace never faltering. Your pussy clung desperately to his too thick cock, the force of each slam eliciting a a ragged gasp as he bottomed out against your cervix. His intense gaze locks onto your dilated eyes, drinking in every nuance of your cumdrunk expressions as you submitted to him completely.
For Izuku, this moment is the culmination of his desires since the moment you were hired at one of his coffee shops. His obsessive desire for you have driven him to go to great lengths, even "hiring" himself as a barista to get close to you. Now, his darkest desires are being fulfilled, the mate he craves finally within his grasp.
Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer with you looking past him all fucked-out like that.
Intense pleasure coursing through your veins, you were overcome by the sensory overload of cumming again. Saliva escaped your parted lips, a shiny trail down the side of your chin. Your moans and whimpers intermingled with the wet, lewd sounds of your boss' thrusts into you, heavy balls accentuating squelches with quick slaps against your ass. Your gushing cunt walls attempted to tighten around Izuku's massive member with some success as you reached one last mind shattering orgasm. Your trembling pussy clamped down as best it could, Izuku thrusting all the while.
As he reached his own tipping point, Izuku's rabbit ears stood straight up, a visible sign of his peaking pleasure. “S-shit” He whined, your tight cunt was strangling his cock, causing his foot to bounce uncontrollably as he thrust as fast as possible. Each slam was met with the rhythmic spasming of your walls, clenching onto his too thick length with a desperate intensity. The sensation of your pussy clinging to his dick on every exiting pull, and the feel of his mushroom tip slamming against your cervix, was too much for Izuku. Driven by his unbridled desire, Izuku maintained his rabbit-like pace until the end, unable to resist the sweet agony of the tight vice that surrounded him.
With a deep groan of satisfaction, Izuku succumbed to the milking motion of your tight ring of muscles. The tip of his cock became engorged and sensitive, the pressure pushing him over the edge, the slit gushing forth with his warm cum. Pumping spurt after spurt, Izuku filled your womb with his seed, the pulsing sensation mixing with the raw pleasure that coursed through you both. One of his fuzzy ears cocked to the side, a visual display of the euphoria that engulfed him.
As with most rabbit hybrids, Izuku momentarily leaned all his weight on your pinned legs and his forearms, his body collapsing with the intensity of his climax. Your cunt walls stretched tight around his member still milked and clenched, coaxing every drop of his essence from within him. Overwhelmed by the influx of cum you could only moan brokenly in bliss, your consciousness long faded away during your last orgasm.
In the aftermath of your shared climax, Izuku remained trembling and breathless over your spent body, his emerald eyes still gleaming with a primal intensity, as he nuzzled your hair. The cafe was filled with the scent of your combined arousal, a poignant reminder of the powerful connection. A perfect mix of pine needles, yuzu zest and jasmine blossoms in the smug Izuku's opinion.
Much better than that burnt sugar bastard's stench.
Izuku needs a few tries to withdraw from your clasping cunt, before the head of his dick pops free of your pubic ridge with a final jerk of his hips. He hissed in oversensitive pleasure at the sensation of pulling free of your quim. Geez, were all humans this small on the inside? He wondered as his cum began to gush out of you. Izuku's viscous seed quickly flowed down your folds, trailing onto the cold counter top before beginning to drip onto the floor. He could definitely get used to that image. “You should get some rest” Izuku smugly beamed down at you before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, your lids heavy with fatigue. You could hardly fight the chemicals, both natural and otherwise at this point, from pulling you into slumber, and soon you lost the battle. He smiled as he heard your breathing even out, asleep.
Izuku's tea, and it's added ingredient, had taken longer to take effect than he expected. When he saw how exhausted you were, he had just intended for you to nap through your shift. Cuddle with your unconscious form under a cozy blanket in the autumn afternoon during his lunch hour, maybe. Izuku was so glad he'd been given enough time make you cry his name so prettily before you slipped into sleep.
In comparison to this morning, you looked so serene and relaxed, even after your intense encounter. Izuku leaned over you, his forearms resting on the cold stone, nuzzling your hair tenderly. His nose twitched, catching your mingled scents again, making his rabbit ears flick with delight. Izuku, hidden behind his gentle facade once again, wished he had “hired” himself sooner. He could have felt you shuddering around him months ago, but he vowed to make up for lost time now that you were already spreading yourself for him on his kitchen counter.
With gentle care, Izuku's muscular frame picked up your sleeping body from the kitchen counter. He cradled in his arms with a protective tenderness, mindful not to jostle you from slumber. He carried down the hall to the employee room across from the office, where a comfy jade couch awaited, a place for you to rest while he tended to the café.
As Izuku lay you down on the couch, your sleepy form stirred and before turning over with a yawn. Izuku would have stayed there, with his forehead against yours, all day. However, as the sunrise streamed through the kitchen skylight, Izuku became aware of just how late in the morning it was. With the sun coming up, he only had a few minutes until the coffee shop opened. He watched over you for a moment more, ensuring you were comfortably tucked into a cushy blanket, before he turned his attention to the café.
After all, as the owner of the 'Lunar Rabbit' chain, Izuku had responsibilities to fulfill.
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Izuku is gonna be mad when he realizes he left the pastries in the oven, but raspberry croutons are a small price to pay in the long run.
Comments and Reblogs make a difference!
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago
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Gentle Dark
Haldir x Female Reader
Content & Warnings: romantic tension, yearning, passionate kissing, fade to black, admission of feelings, fluff, light angst
Word Count: 1.3k
On a patrol together, Haldir confronts you about your feelings for him even though you’re promised to another.
A/N: For @childofyuggoth
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
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The stars twinkle through the gnarled canopy. White. Bright. Bathing the forest floor with iridescent light. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, savoring the scents of the forest around you. Caras Galadhon dwells behind you, sleeping and silent in the peaceful dark.
You are attuned to every sound in the deep wood, and as you filter through it all, you find nothing out of place or suspicious. But the disturbance of the wood is not of your immediate concern. There are greater trials and closer bodies that seek your attention other than the animals that softly move through the underbrush.
Haldir of Lórien is a beacon in the dark. You sense him before you see him, standing just shy of your right shoulder.
“The night is quiet,” he whispers.
You open your eyes, turn to face him. “It is indeed.”
Haldir’s gaze casually drops to your lips and then back to your eyes. A gentle heat radiates up your body to encompass you in its embrace. You have little control over your body’s reaction to him.
The answering of your flesh when he is in your presence is unfair. It is a cruel joke. You are promised to another, but not one of your choosing. If you had a choice, you would pick Haldir.
Always.
But that is not to be. That is not the path set out before you.
Him standing here next to you, alone in the gentle dark, is agony. The heat of him is so near, so alive that it sends your senses tingling with anticipation. The clashing beat within you is a deafening drum.
Can Haldir hear the racing of your heart? Can he sense your need and your aching tremble?
You hope he can’t, but you also silently hope that he does. What would he do then?
Haldir’s gaze finally leaves you to glance out into the wood. “We should begin the patrol.”
“Of course,” you murmur, inclining your head, allowing Haldir to take the lead.
He returns his gaze to you briefly before taking a step forward to walk between two trees. You follow him at a short distance, watching the distance, keeping a constant pivot. The two of you walk in relative silence, moving like phantoms amongst the towering trees.
At a small clearing, Haldir pauses. You cozy up beside him, a question starting to form on your lips.
“Do you remember this place?” he asks softly, gaze fixated at the center of the clearing. A sharp beam of moonlight illuminates the ground. The flowers glow under its lunar light.
You do know this place. On one of your many patrols with Haldir, he confessed his love in this very clearing. He held your hands in his, kissed your knuckles and each of your fingers. He whispered in a longing of gentle song that soothed your nerves and calmed your soul. In that moment, you didn’t want anyone else, you only wished for him.
But how things change.
“It is etched upon my heart,” you answer truthfully.
Haldir’s silver hair shines like starlight. “I’d like to stay here. My memories of this place are happy ones.”
The two of you have come to this clearing on multiple occasions. It is no coincidence that Haldir’s patrol includes you. He selects you on purpose, and you go with him willingly because you desire the closeness. It will not last forever, not when you’re promised to another.
“We can only linger here for so long,” you remind him.
Haldir sighs heavily, and turns to face you. He has always been stoic. Calm. Even in your presence, even when he whispered gentle words of love to you, Haldir never appeared…desperate.
The look on his face now is anything but calm. It is intense—a billowing storm tightly contained.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you murmur, startled by the sudden change.
Haldir’s gaze goes to your lips, lingers, and then flicks up to your eyes. “Why do you deny yourself what you want?” he asks.
You swallow and tuck your clenched fist behind your back. Haldir’s directness is too much. He knows that this is not of your own choosing.
“You cannot ask this of me,” you answer, hating yourself for sounding so weak.
Haldir entirely shifts his body in your direction. Taking a step forward, he moves into your space. Your back bumps up against the tree next to you. Haldir places his hand against the trunk next to your head.
You are trapped, but by all the stars in the night sky, you do not care.
His scent is woodsy and clean. You lean in a bit, inhaling, attempting to remember his smell since this might be your last opportunity to do so.
“You stay loyal to him.” Haldir bends at the elbow, pressing in. “And yet you know that he lusts after another.” The center of his brow furrows slightly. “Why not be with someone who will always worship you?”
Him. Him, meaning, your betrothed. The one you’re supposed to be with in the end. The selection made for you. This is an expectation placed upon you.
And Haldir is right. He does not love you. While you intend to be loyal in your upcoming marriage, you also know his heart will yearn for another. But you also yearn for someone else, and Haldir is standing right here, questioning all of this, wanting to know why you won’t pick him.
“Sometimes duty comes before happiness,” you reply softly, gaze cast downward.
“Does it?” he counters quickly.
You keep your face turned toward the ground. Stare at your feet.
The two of you have lain in this clearing, limbs draped over and around each other. There has always been closeness between the two of you. There has always been touching, skin pressed to skin, lips brushing but never fully meeting. Yet, the two of you have never completed the act itself.
That is binding. That is forever.
But you see it in Haldir’s eyes now as you sneak a peek of him. That desperate hunger. The desire to be with one person for the end of your days. It is an arrow through the heart, piercing and sharp and stinging.
You wish to satiated it, to admit to what you want most in this world. Because it is him. It is Haldir that you crave more than anyone else.
“I would be breaking my oath,” you reply softly, finally having the courage to look at him directly.
“Would you?” he asks. “You have made no vow. You have created no bond. The choice is yours. Utterly.” He gestures at himself with his free hand. “And I am right here.”
With a shaking hand, you reach up to cradle his cheek. Haldir turns into your touch, sighing gently, and that snaps your resolve, dissolves it like the winter snows melting in the sun. Haldir must sense the change, because the two of you meet, lips finally joining in what they’ve been longing for.
He tastes perfect. Wonderful. A match made for the ages.
Haldir’s hand upon the tree departs, leaving the bark to encircle your waist, to draw your body against his. You do not resist. You surrender to him, opening like a flower, wanting nothing more than to forget all your fears and sorrows in this little clearing.
The night is long, but it is not forever. For now, the two of you can have this.
Haldir drags you even closer, pressing you firmly against him as he learns the contours of your lips. His hands discover the planes of your body, and yet it’s not enough for him. Haldir is charged like lightening across the sky.
The two of you have been denying these mutual feelings for far too long.
This is a tremor. Earth-shaking. A star bursting into dust.
Haldir guides you to the center of the clearing, easily removing his cloak with one hand. He breaks away a moment to lay it down on the dewy grass, reaching for you the moment it fans out to hold the two of you.
You sink down with him, buckles and straps, and armor disappearing as you go.
It is everything.
It is nothing.
It is all you need in the gentle dark.
taglist:
@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics @beebeechaos
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danika-redgrave124 · 5 months ago
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Winx Yuu
@alexglitches I was inspired by some of the asks you got, but I did my verison of Winx Yuu a little different based them off dreams and the night sky.
@twisted-dreamscape I was also inspired by the mini story you wrote.
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I think Yuu's magic/powers should be related to dreams and the night sky because of the prophetic dreams Yuu has about the Great Seven which hasn't been really explained yet in the main story.
Yuu's wings are large and delicate, resembling the wings of a celestial butterfly. They are semi-transparent with a gradient that shifts from deep purple at the base to a soft, glowing blue at the edges. The wings are adorned with sparkling constellations that seem to move and change depending on her emotions.
Stella and Yuu have a Sun and Moon Dynamic Friendship. Yuu is also friends with Musa, sharing a deep connection through music and emotions. They also gets along well with Flora due to their mutual love for nature and the mysteries of the world. This is before they were sent to the world of Twisted Wonderland.
Strengths
Highly creative and imaginative, able to think outside the box in difficult situations.
Strong connection to the dream relam and night sky, making their powers extremely effective at night.
Excellent at calming others and offering guidance, often serving as the emotional anchor for their friends.
Weaknesses
Can be somewhat distant and lost in their own world due to wanting to figure out their own powers, making it hard for them to connect with other others on a deeper level.
Their powers are weaker during the day, especially in bright sunlight.
Yuu's empathetic nature can make them vulnerable to extreme negative emotions and nightmares of others, which can drain their energy.
★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Yuu's Hobbies (Before they awoken their powers)
Stargazing
Yuu has a deep connection to the cosmos, so they love spending time under the night sky, observing stars, constellations and celestial events like meteor showers.
Astrology
Yuu is fascinated by Astrology and enjoys studying the influence of the stars and planets on human behavior and events.
Storytelling and Mythology
Yuu has a passion for ancient myths and legends, especially those related to the stars, the moon and dreams. They enjoys reading and telling strokes that weave together elements dreams and the cosmos.
Yuu's Hobbies (After Awakening Her Magic)
Collecting Crystals
Yuu, now, has a collection of crystals and gemstones, each chosen for its connection to celestial and dream energies. They uses these crystals in their magical practices, incorporating them into spells, meditation, or simply decorative pieces in Ramshackle. They don't collect blot stones.
Malleus often gifts them crystals even though they don't have a connection to celestial or Dream energies, Yuu still greatly appreciated them.
Crafting Dreamcatchers
As a way to learn more about their dream powers in a tangible form, Yuu enjoys creating intricate dreamcatchers with Luna's help. They infuses them with protective magic, ensuring they capture good dreams and ward off nightmares, both for themselves and their friends.
Grim has two of them.
Pomefiore have three of them.
Heartslabyul have one each.
Jack has one.
Ignihyde has multiple of them
Ruggie has a lot of them for his family and himself.
Malleus and Silver have two of them. Lilia has one, but he secretly put it into Sebek's room in a place he wouldn't see it.
Meditation and Moon Bathing
To stay grounded and centered, Yuu practices meditation, often under the light of the moon. Moon bathing is a claming ritual for them, where they absorbs lunar energy to recharge their magical powers and clear their mind.
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cappadociab · 1 year ago
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BALLOONSCANNER - MEGA+ (3)
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Soaring Over Cappadocia: Booking Your Hot Air Balloon Adventure
Cappadocia, with its dreamlike landscapes, is a destination that captures the hearts of travelers worldwide. One of the most iconic and enchanting experiences you can have in this Turkish wonderland is a hot air balloon ride. If you're ready to embark on this unforgettable journey, balloonscanner.com is your go-to platform for seamless bookings and extraordinary adventures.
Cappadocia Hot Air Balloon Rides: The allure of Cappadocia hot air balloon rides lies in the unique topography of the region. Imagine floating gently above fairy chimneys, lunar-like valleys, and ancient cave dwellings as the sun bathes the landscape in hues of gold and pink. It's a spectacle that must be experienced to be truly appreciated.
Booking Your Balloon Adventure: Balloonscanner.com simplifies the process of booking your Cappadocia hot air balloon adventure. The user-friendly interface allows you to choose from various ride options, whether you prefer a standard group experience or a more intimate private ride. Booking in advance ensures you secure your spot and guarantees an unforgettable journey above Cappadocia's captivating scenery.
Unveiling the Wonders of Cappadocia: Your hot air balloon adventure is not just a ride; it's a voyage into the heart of Cappadocia's wonders. As you ascend into the sky, you'll witness the surreal beauty of the landscape unfolding beneath you. The sun rising or setting, casting an ethereal glow on the unique rock formations, creates a truly magical experience.
Tips for an Unforgettable Experience:
Dress Comfortably: Wear layers as the mornings can be cool.
Bring Your Camera: Capture the breathtaking views of Cappadocia's unique terrain.
Arrive Early: Be punctual to make the most of the pre-dawn or sunset experience.
Book Your Adventure Today: Ready to make your Cappadocia dream a reality? Visit balloonscanner.com to book your hot air balloon ride and prepare for an experience that will stay etched in your memory forever. Let the winds of Cappadocia carry you on an adventure like no other.
Embark on a journey that transcends the ordinary - book balloon Cappadocia hot air balloon ride now and create memories that will last a lifetime.
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callmemonster68 · 5 days ago
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HEESEUNG - God of War ( smut )
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 A fierce and untamed entity finds an unexpected refuge in an ordinary human. Amid the chaos of battles and the serenity of a mortal's touch, he discovers an overwhelming desire—dark and irresistible.
Pairing: Heeseung, a deity X FemReader
Genre: Obscenity
Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands
Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!
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In a world where battle and destruction are constant, the God of War, a ferocious and imposing deity, descends from his throne of steel and blood. He seeks something he has never known: pleasure. In a small village, he encounters a healer—a simple woman, unremarkable in the eyes of others, yet inexplicably captivating to him. Their meeting promises the awakening of hidden desires.
Heeseung: "You, human, possess the power to heal what I destroy. How can you be so fragile, yet so strong?"
Y/N: "Fragility is a form of strength. I turn pain into medicine. And you, my God, what will you do about that?"
Heeseung: "You speak of healing, but do you know desire? What would you do to avoid being destroyed? To keep your village at peace?"
Y/N: "Surrendering is an act of courage. What do you desire, God?"
Heeseung: "I desire to feel life coursing through me and revel in pleasure. I desire you."
Y/N: "Then come, let me show you what it means to be vulnerable. Use me to discover and feel what you've been searching for. We both have much to gain in this war."
Heeseung: "Yes, let us. Together, we will achieve victory."
—------------------- TIME BREAK —-------------------
Heeseung and Y/N find themselves in a moonlit forest, bathed in the soft glow of lunar light. The scent of damp earth and wildflowers fills the air, creating a perfect setting for the exploration of new emotions.
Heeseung: "Here, far from destruction, I feel something different. It’s as if life itself is calling to me."
Y/N: "It’s the connection you never realized you needed. Nature has its way of reminding us what truly matters."
Heeseung: "And what is that, exactly? What am I supposed to feel?"
Y/N: "You’re meant to feel vulnerability. Allow yourself to be touched—not just by pain, but by the pleasure that comes from surrender."
Heeseung: "What if I lose myself in that pleasure? What if it makes me weak?"
Y/N: "True strength lies in allowing yourself to feel. Pleasure isn’t weakness; it’s a form of resilience. Come, let me show you."
She steps closer, her eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and tenderness. Heeseung hesitates, but curiosity and desire draw him nearer.
Heeseung: "Do you truly believe I can find pleasure amidst all this?"
Y/N: "Yes, I do. You are more than the God of War. You are capable of love and of being loved. Let’s discover that together."
Heeseung: "Then guide me. Show me what it means to be vulnerable."
Y/N: "Close your eyes and feel. Let every touch, every whisper, lead you to a new understanding. We’re in this together."
He closes his eyes, allowing the healer to draw closer. Her touch is soft, like a gentle breeze, sending a wave of warmth coursing through his body.
Heeseung: "This... this is different. It feels like I’m awakening to something that has always been dormant."
Y/N: "Exactly. Now, let yourself go. Pleasure is a form of healing, and together, we can transform this pain into something beautiful."
Their connection deepens, and the night becomes a sacred space where war and destruction give way to discovery and desire. She extends a hand, softly touching his face, her fingers gliding delicately over his skin. The touch is electric, and Heeseung feels a shiver run down his spine. For someone so dangerous—at times monstrous—he now feels small and defenseless in Y/N’s presence.
Despite being a god, Heeseung has no experience with intimacy. He’s touched himself countless times but always felt it wasn’t enough, just a faint echo of what he truly craved. He’s harbored curiosity and desires but has never been close to a woman—except for his mother and sisters.
Y/N: "Allow yourself to feel. Pleasure isn’t just physical; it’s a complete surrender. Let me show you how to lose yourself in this moment."
He gazes at her, the intensity in his eyes making her heart race. The tension between them becomes almost unbearable as she leans in, her lips hovering near his, and whispers:
Y/N: "Trust me. Let’s explore this new dimension of pleasure together."
Heeseung closes his eyes again, letting the sensation of surrender envelop him. He feels her lips touch his in a soft kiss that quickly deepens into something more passionate and consuming. Their connection intensifies, and he realizes the vulnerability he once feared is, in truth, a source of strength.
Y/N: "Feel every heartbeat, every breath. The scent of desire radiating from you is driving me insane."
They kiss again, their passion erupting in a fiery embrace. Heeseung’s hands trail hesitantly down her body, exploring with an unpolished mix of restraint and raw need. His skin burns under her touch, and his breaths grow heavier as heat rises within him.
Heeseung: "Do you not fear me? My touch destroys."
Y/N: "I don’t fear you. I want you. I’m here because you desired me. But you, a god without mercy, don’t know what to do with that, do you?"
Her words strike him like blades, and Heeseung takes a step back, as if her honesty has pierced his very soul.
Heeseung: "I don’t know tenderness. What I want from you isn’t meant to be given gently."
Y/N: "Then take it. If that’s what you desire, take me, Heeseung. But know this: tonight, it’s you who will be conquered."
She pushes him gently until he sits against a large tree, her movements deliberate as she straddles his lap. Slowly, she begins removing his armor, revealing his warm, scarred skin.
Y/N: "You are forged of strength, but tonight, you will be vulnerable. Tonight, I will touch you as no one ever dared."
Her lips trace a path along his neck while her hands explore his defined chest. He holds himself back, afraid that any movement might break her, but the tremble in his body betrays the depth of his longing.
Heeseung: "Please... show me. I want to feel you. I want to know what this is that consumes me."
S/N guided Heeseung's hands over her body, encouraging him to explore. His initial hesitation gave way to an uncontrollable hunger. He gripped her firmly, his fingers pressing into her flesh with reverence and desire. With Y/N now completely bare, he cupped the soft skin of her breasts, squeezing them in his hands, and took her already hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and lightly grazing it with his teeth.
Y/N: "You’re naturally good at this. You’re doing an amazing job."
The praise fueled him. After all, even though he was a complete virgin, he was still a god, wasn’t he? And gods were meant to be worshipped. Yet, he had never wanted to feel adored by someone as much as he did now with Y/N. But more than that, he wanted to worship her.
Heeseung: "Stand up! I want to taste you. I want to see if you’re as good as you look."
S/N obeyed immediately. Once on her feet, Heeseung, in a rough move, pulled her closer and positioned her so that her bare core was level with his face. He stared at her with hungry eyes, licking his lips before finally planting a kiss on her soft skin.
Heeseung: "Open yourself for me, now."
And there it was—Heeseung delving into her dripping, needy core, exploring it fiercely with his tongue. He licked and sucked at her folds, thrusting his tongue into her warm, wet heat.
Heeseung: "Should I use my fingers?"
Y/N: "Yes, please, I need more."
Without hesitation, Heeseung slid three fingers deep inside her. Y/N cried out at the sudden fullness, and he began moving his fingers at an impossibly fast pace. The once calm forest was now filled with obscene sounds. Heeseung’s fingers reached places no mortal man ever could. S/N was lost in pleasure, unable to form coherent thoughts. Her climax overtook her, a generous release spilling over Heeseung’s fingers.
He withdrew his fingers, using his other hand to pull her onto his lap.
Heeseung: "Open your mouth. Clean up this mess."
Still trembling with excitement, Y/N opened her mouth as Heeseung placed his slick fingers between her lips. She licked them clean, leaving no trace behind. The sight drove Heeseung wild. He pulled his fingers away and crashed his lips against hers in a rough, messy kiss. Before breaking apart, he bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. He didn’t let it go unnoticed—licking the blood away while staring deep into her eyes.
He was insane. Divine.
Neither of them could wait any longer; they needed to feel their bodies connected. When she finally took him, sliding down slowly onto his length, the sound that escaped Heeseung’s lips was a mix of raw surprise and unrestrained pleasure.
It was his first time experiencing anything beyond pain and chaos, and the intensity nearly unraveled him.
"You... you’re what I never knew I needed."
They moved together, their bodies locked in a primal dance. He held her as if she were both his salvation and his undoing. For Y/N, the feeling was indescribable—his size and warmth hitting all the right spots.
When they finally reached their peak together, it was as if a thunderclap echoed inside him.
Their bodies still trembling, Heeseung whispered:
Heeseung: "You’re not just a mortal woman. You’re the one who conquered me."
S/N: "Ah, Heeseung, you’ve left me speechless. But if I’m the one who’s conquered you, just imagine what else we can explore together. What we have goes beyond anything mortal, and I can’t wait to see where it takes us."
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This story is part of the universe of ' Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ' created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.
✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿
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tsams-and-co-memes · 9 months ago
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LAES Lunar Canon Info
Updated - 11/10/24
Lunar's likes:
Sour skittles, Smarty’s, and chewy chips ahoy
Beanbags
Things that glow in the dark
Metal music, as long as it’s still intelligible
Peaches and bananas
Comic books
Spider lily flowers
Space and astrology related things
Making an entrance
Spigot
Uncrustables
Kingdom Hearts
Anything sugary
Chainsaw Man
Sushi
Making himself smaller for other people (<- being small is a comfort thing for him)
Coffee (it's implied that he rarely, if ever, gets it though)
Tekken 8
Penguins
Friday Night Funkin
Bowser
Lunar's dislikes:
My Chemical Romance
Wildberry poptarts
MLP (his favorite is Rainbow Dash)
Lunala and Pinchurchin (his favorite Pokémon)
His favorite expression of love is words of affirmation
The ocean
Putting ice in his drinks
The color red
History. In his words, history sucks and is like the worst subject in school
The color yellow
Football
Eclipse (<- he's more indifferent to Eclipse now, more than anything else)
Bloodmoon
The creator
Jack (subject to change) (Lunar's cool with Jack now)
Peanut butter
Miscellaneous:
If Lunar gets too scared, he WILL cry
Unlike his brothers, he can eat food (<- retconned. They can all eat now)
When he is upset, anxious, tense, or getting scared, he makes a high pitched squeak sound that’s almost the equivalent of a whimper, but it sounds like a creaky door
His voice box has a concert hall sort of effect, in which a lot of reverb is added to whatever he says. There’s also another special function that lets him sound like he’s talking on an old radio station
He’s very sassy
He was originally made of nanomachines, before he was blown up by Eclipse
His birthday is August 11th
If he could have a pet, it’d be a chinchilla
He prefers showers over baths
He likes to act more childlike, although he himself is actually an adult
He has a habit of saying things that are very out of pocket
Lunar is slightly colorblind
He has weather based powers– namely wind and lightning (<- his powers are actually based on nature in general)
One of Lunar’s favorite games is Bloons TD6
His memory isn’t very good
Lunar doesn't wake up immediately and is groggy for a bit in the morning. He also screams every morning to help himself wake up more. His "wake up scream" also helps motivate him, too
It's implied that he watches Phineas and Ferb
He cleans himself via taking a sponge and scrubbing the metal parts of himself
Monty did design Lunar with the capability to change his clothes
Lunar's a sleep talker
Lunar can't read cursive, while Earth can
Lunar gets into a lot of trouble with small animals
When Lunar gets angry enough, he sounds more like Moon
He's good at math
He occasionally eavesdrops on Earth’s therapy sessions with people if he finds the person attending interesting at all
Lunar doesn't know how to read Morse code
Lunar's comfort food is chips, and he eats them when stressed
When Lunar had a tail, his tail apparently was sensitive
Lunar's not good at rhythm games
Lunar has a stomach hatch that opens sideways like a cabinet door
Lunar sometimes makes the kids dance in the daycare. He even dances with them
Lunar thinks Bowser "can get it"
Lunar could eat an entire crate of Nutella in 3 days, and his body would convert it into star power
Lunar doesn't watch R-rated movies
Lunar doesn't eat very much healthy food
Lunar is possibly Monty's smoking buddy
Lunar has a bedroom in Sun and Moon’s basement, then he has a separate room for napping
Lunar has a borderline addiction (?) to Nutella and even has a room he uses for the sole purpose of storing it
Lunar is pansexual, but doesn't currently know if he's polyamorous or not
If he could wear other clothes, Lunar would want sweatpants, baggy t-shirts, and at least one suit (for Earth's amusement, mostly. So she can pick him up and pretend he's her son or something). No matter what he wears though, he'd always have his hat
Lunar has a little private getaway in the woods that he goes to sometimes. Monty helped him build it
Lunar is non-binary and omniromantic
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sgt-seabass · 1 year ago
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ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ
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✧˚ · . your fairy tale life ends in a slew of blood.
pairing — witch!bucky barnes x fairy!f!reader w/c — 5.3k listening to — ♫burn the witch warnings — no use of y/n, dark elements, body horror, blood and gore, non-con, kidnapping, bondage, chasing, mild violence, use of magic for evil deeds, drugging, dead dove (don’t eat it and complain to me about it) a/n — happy halloween! thank you to @goldylions for beta-ing. all mistakes are my own. shout out to @navybrat817, @rookthorne and @vonalyn for cheering me along with this fic.
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Many fairy tales had been read to you as a child, back when you were small and your wings tiny. The forest was a place for fairy kind, as were all biomes. A holy sanctuary for those with magic, where the trees hugged and created a shelter of heaven-spun leaves and branches. An unspoken promise of protection.
It was not a place to be afraid. Not even in the nighttime. For the moon, bathed in the sun's light, provided a wave of peace to the world around it. The deepened hues of a dark forest lit by starlight were a place of magical refuge.
While many normal humans would be afraid, fairy-kind was taught that forests were a place of ancient souls, like the deep sea or the clouds above. And being half-fairy, this was a teaching you received at an early age.
But the forest you woke in was unlike any story you’d heard before. This was uncharted territory.
“Tinker Bell.”
The misty voice startled you awake. Your eyes opened, immediately taking in the deep red sky. There was a blood moon above, unlike any lunar eclipse you’d seen. The red glowed across the sky and your skin, as if you were alight with the malice that lay hidden.
As you sat up, you took in your surroundings. The dark oak and spruce surrounding you stood as noble knights, protecting something from view with its thick foliage. What wanted to remain hidden?
The dirt floor was sodden with woven roots and fallen leaves, dead and decaying. The only sweetness in the air was the subtle whiff of sap, but it was entirely eclipsed by the earthy smell of rotting wood among damp, stale bark.
This was no fairy tale but a place of nightmares.
No animals scurried at the sound of you rising, no birds sang, the area seemingly barren of any life. You didn’t know how you got here but knew you needed to get out. A place like this was not something Mother Nature would have conjured.
Your heart craved the softened, freshly aromatic scent of the forest near your family home. Where the leaves were crisp, and the sun gently kissed the treetops, creating a beautiful shine. You could almost taste the lovely sweetness of the fresh berries you’d find foraging. It was the opposite of how your stomach roiled at the smell of a dying forest.
The red light made it hard to see, darkness covering every inch of land. Looking down at the muddy turf, you wondered if it was blood you stood upon. But a quick swipe through the grime confirmed it was earth. There was an oddness to the scent of the soil. You rolled it between your fingers, pursing your lips. While it was dirt, this was not dirt you would find in the human world. It did not hold the magical properties it usually would.
This meant either you’d been transported to another realm or were stuck in a plane between the layers of earth and heaven.
Your hands patted over the clothes you’d been put in. A green sundress with a red robe tied neatly with a bow around your neck. These weren’t items from your closet. They felt fresh. New.
A sense of danger prickled across your skin, goosebumps rising on your flesh and hairs standing on end. You were not alone here.
The sound of old leaves crunching sounded behind you, and it didn’t take much initiative to begin running in the other direction.
Your heart began to race as a chase started with the unknown entity. You could hear it behind you, deep breathing and grunting. It was an obstacle course trying to avoid logs and roots, while trying to stop yourself from retching due to the pungent smell of burning, decaying flesh.
Sprinting away from danger raised a primal fear in you. The kind that rips your body apart so that every ounce of concentration, energy and intelligence can be used to escape the nightmares that trailed behind.
A blend of growls mixed in as a pack of rabid wolves jumped out from the side, lunging for you. You yelped, narrowly ducking and weaving away from the gnashing jaws of the animals. They joined the chase behind you, barking when you managed to jump a log that tripped a few of them. The wolves didn’t stop, though. They joined the ominous deep breathing that pursued you, as if you were Red Riding Hood fleeing from danger.
Needing to go faster, despite the close confines around you, you extended your wings from your back and threw away the cloak. Normally, your wings would open to the light of the sun, the streaks of light reflecting beautiful rainbow hues. But now, they added to the glowing red surrounding you, as if they were broken and bloodied. A sense of foreboding overtook you at the thought. 
You began fluttering to move faster, your feet only lightly touching the ground. Being half fairy, you couldn’t reach the heights of a typical fairy, restricted by your human-sized body, but that didn’t matter with the many branches that loomed and imprisoned you close to the forest floor.
Crows cawed, their wings flapping as they followed you with red eyes. You could tell they and the wolves were not real, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hurt you. The birds dove for your wings, and you had to change paths to try and avoid them.  
Snakes slithered along the ground, and spiders bared their fangs on the branches above your head. It was claustrophobic, as if this evil presence was closing in on you, causing you a fear worse than your most violent nightmares.
With heaving breaths, running on pure adrenaline, you pushed yourself further than ever before.
You started to lose the animals and the mysterious creature, and it gave you a chance to begin your song.
Fairies cast their magic through their voices, affecting all who listened. Humans often did not understand the words but did not need to. The melody alone was enough to bring love and laughter to life. For that was the gift fairies brought. Through the pureness of their hearts, magic could be accessed and shared with the world.
While fairies appeared like blossoming flowers, there were dark vines that snaked from the ground. Those who used their magic for wicked intentions were considered dark witches. Banned from the sanctorum where Mother Nature sits, witches could never gain Mother Nature's trust, hence never earning their wings.
The song you cast into the acrid air was one of hope. A beautiful tune that caused fairy dust to fall from your wings as you fluttered faster, your strength increasing. But what you did not see behind you was the way the ground swallowed the dust, absorbing it to fuel a power that lay below.
“Tinker Bell.” A voice called to you. The name is reminiscent of the childhood teasing you’d endured during your youth. But the voice now held no innocent oblivion to the way it made fun of you. “Pretty fairy, you cannot outrun me.”
With no destination in mind and no path to guide your way, you continued through the forest with threatening sounds behind you. And before long, the trees opened up into a small clearing. There was no reprieve, though, as the trees that formed the circled area were so thick there would be no way you could continue into the forest without having to squeeze past.
Skeletons and discarded bones covered the ground, and each time your foot touched one, they crumbled with a sickening crunch. Humans, animals, and all kinds of beings lay dead in the field, no flesh left to discern them. Their graveyard would soon become yours too, you feared.
“Tinker Bell,” the voice sounded, and it was much closer now. You spun around with fluttering wings, doing a full turn with magic dust falling to the ground, but you couldn’t see anyone. The ground rumbled beneath you, and you gasped at the sight of vines shooting up to try and grab you.
With darting movements, you maneuvered around the vines that tried to capture you. But the more you began to panic, the more magic that came from you, and the world around you absorbed it. The vines started growing in power, getting thicker and faster the more you tried to fly away.
The blood moon was in full force now. The entire sky was a pool of scarlet, ruddy and nauseating. This realm was feeding off your fear, taking it and using it for its own power. 
It was then the being showed itself, walking from the thick foliage into view. The sight of him shocked you so severely that you became distracted, and the vines took their chance to snake around your ankles and up your legs, stopping at your upper thighs. Another two vines grabbed each arm, holding you helplessly in place.
Before you stood an Oni. Or at least someone appearing to be one. A Japanese legend, Oni, were created through the death of a wicked human. Weidling iron clubs as their weapon, they would find enjoyment in crushing and destroying humans. They were bearers of punishment. While this man had no weapon, you feared for what he had planned for you.
But what did you do apart from giving the world your pure heart? What made you deserving of an Oni’s wrath?
Your wings kept fluttering as you took in the man's mask. Covering his face was intricate carvings on a deep charcoal wood. Horns extended on either side, with swirls that covered them down to the blackened eye holes. You could see his piercing blue eyes, stark in comparison to the darkness that surrounded them. The carved swirls continued down the mask's jaw, where it had cut sharp teeth with two fangs on both sides. The man was bulky, not the size of the Oni you had heard of, but he certainly eclipsed the size of an average human. He had to be almost seven feet at least.
He wore only black, with loose pleated pants on his legs and a robe covering his top beneath. One of his hands shone in the red light, and it took you a moment to realise that’s because it was an intricate metal, not flesh.
The sight caused an unrelenting fear in you, as if he had your heart in his hand, beginning to squeeze your very life with his threatening grip.
“Hello, Tinker Bell,” the man spoke, the deep timbre of his tone shaking you to your core as you struggled against your binds. “Are you lost, little fae? These woods are no place for a fairy like you,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice despite the way his face remained hidden.
“Then let me go,” you snapped, trying to use wisps of magic to get the vines to recede, but all it did was make them stronger.
“Ah, hm, no.” The man approached in long strides with flouncing hair as the vines forced you to your knees, your body sinking slightly into the plush earth. “That would be an awful waste of all my effort, Tinker Bell.”
“That’s not my name,” you snapped, beginning to tire of his antics. You just wanted to go home.
“Don’t bore me with your birth name. Tinker Bell suits you much more.” His stature towered above you as he looked down at you, his hair falling around the sides of the mask. The mask was even more intimidating up close. Power radiated off his being, darkness oozing like a sick sludge from him. This was a man to be scared of. 
You began to tremble, causing the vines to rustle as you tried to still yourself. In the eyes of a predator, it is best to try and make yourself seem intimidating. But there’s not much you can do as tears well in your eyes. Your mother had always teased you for having such a sensitive soul.
“Aww, are you going to cry? I haven’t even done anything yet.”
You sniffled, spikes of fear lighting your blood like an electric bolt. “What do you want?” 
“Those wings, pretty girl.”
Your eyes widened, and your blood ran cold. You held your breath with a sharp inhale, anxiety clutching at your heart. When you’d first presented with your wings, you’d been warned that they were a rare commodity, much like an elephant's tusks. There were puissant people who wanted to increase their power, and a set of fairy wings granted immense magical properties.
“I don’t want to die,” your voice turned into a high whine as reality set in. This red forest would be your final resting place.
The man laughed heartily, causing you to flinch like he had slapped you.
“Oh, you’re not going to die. Don’t you know? Fairy wings grow back. Why on earth would I kill you when I can have a fae of my own?”
If anything, that was a fate worse than death.
“What’s your name?” You gulped, holding back the sobs that wanted to escape.
“You can call me Bucky.”
You were not above grovelling, and you were already on your knees, so you begged. “Bucky - please. Just let me go home. I’m begging you. I have a family, friends, people who will miss me. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone about you.”
His eyes darkened as if they were adapting to the shade of the mask surrounding them. There was a deathly silence as he considered you. “No.”
He seemed angry at the mere thought of you being missed. You wondered if it was jealousy. Does he have anyone caring for him? Unlikely based on his method of trying to gain more power. This does not seem like a personable man.
So, you tried a different angle.
“Bucky, you’re a witch, right? That’s how we’re in this realm. You made it?” His eyes narrowed as you spoke, but he didn't stop you. “We’re the same. Magical beings. We should be working together, not against each other. M-Maybe I can help you with some magic? In exchange for my release?”
“The moment I let the vines go, let you leave this place, you will leave me and never look back. Don’t lie to me, Tinker Bell. I can see through your bullshit,” Bucky spat venomously, moving away from you towards a large log that sat in the clearing.
And he wasn’t wrong. It was your intention to run and conjure a teleportation spell the moment you got out of this nightmare realm.
The vines picked you up despite your screams for freedom, carrying you towards the log. “Please, don’t do this! We’re cut of the same cloth. We should be working together! You can stop now. It’s not too late. Please, let me go!”
Bucky watched as you were placed over the log so your front rested against the bark. Your body curved over the trunk, breasts squishing uncomfortably against the hard surface as the vines pulled your arms and legs towards the ground.
A heat rose in your cheeks. You were stuck with your ass elevated, your dress ridden up, so your panties were on display to Bucky. The more you struggled against the binds, the stronger they held.
The blood rushed to your head when you let your neck relax, chin bumping against the log. Reality was setting in, your hope beginning to whittle away. “Please, don’t.”
“Plead all you want, Tinker Bell. No one can hear you here,” Bucky’s voice sounded behind you, his hands groping at the flesh of your thighs. “In fact, I’ll enjoy it more hearing your sounds.”
Bucky let his hands run over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere he touched. You could sense the power emanating from him, a dark magic present in his entire being.
The vines held firm, so tightly wrapped around your limbs that it felt as if they were seconds away from snapping your bones in their grip. You whimpered, skin cutting against the bark as you writhed.
You couldn’t help the arousal that began to pool in your core with the way Bucky groped you. His devilish hands warmed you like he lit a fire in your entire being. He was undoubtedly a powerful creature.
“You’ll want to be numbed for when I cut your wings off…” Bucky trailed off, and when you looked back you gasped.
He’d taken his cock out. Hard, veiny, and inviting – the thick flesh had an angry red tip, shining precum at the tip. You wondered if he tasted as powerful as his magic.
Bucky took a string of fabric to tie back his hair so it was in a tight bun. You watched, mesmerised by how he moved so fluidly.
He kept his eyes on you the whole time, his dark stare not leaving you as his cock bobbed between his legs when you let out a sniffle.
The mask stayed on after Bucky had finished with his hair, and you couldn’t help but be curious about your captor. Would he look like the demon he projected?
Bucky lifted the bottom of the disguise to spit into his hand, running his palm over the ridges of his cock with a grunt as his metal hand yanked your panties down.
Reality came crashing down, and you cried out. “Wait! Don’t! Please, don’t.”
“You don’t want to be in pain, do you? I could cut your wings with no analgesic, but I’m doing you a favour by giving you my cum,” Bucky’s hands gripped either side of the trunk, allowing his cock to sit nestled in your exposed ass cheeks. “I’m being nice. I’m not even going to fuck you.”
You shook your head, a sob escaping you. “This isn’t being nice.”
“Oh? Not even when I do this?” Bucky snapped his fingers with an incantation, and a small vial of pink liquid appeared in his hand. He took the ampoule, moving his cock out of the way so he could pour it over your ass, letting the pink sparkling fluid seep down into your folds.
Your entire body went taut, sudden bolts of pleasure shooting through your body like firecrackers. Your toes curled, and you wailed out a moan, wings fluttering crazily as you tried to process what was happening.
The arousal coursing through you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, Bucky’s magic infecting you and making your brain spiral like you’d had multiple orgasms at once.
Rainbows of colour swirled in your vision as Bucky began sliding his cock against your ass. You could barely register the rocking movement as euphoria filled your brain, the lust making your hair stand on end.
“See? It’s not so bad, Tinker Bell,” Bucky groaned, humping against you and pushing you harder against the log. “I bet no one has touched you like this before.”
Bucky kicked your legs out so you were spread wider, allowing him to slide his cock along your pussy, collecting your arousal. He rubbed the tip of his cock on your clit, and you moaned obscenely. “St— op”
“Ah, you don’t really want me to, do you? Look how wet you are for me. I bet I could make you cum just with my cock.” Bucky wasn’t wrong. He rolled your clit with the head of his dick, and whatever magic he’d used on you had it feeling like tongues were lapping at you.
“That’s it, come on, cum for me. Soak me. Lose that innocence for me, my little slut,” Bucky leant forward, hands pressing down on your wings, teeth nipping at your ear.
That was all it took for the dams to burst. The world was vibrant as you came, red filling your vision, your body shaking with mewls as your juices gushed against Bucky’s cock.
Your wetness allowed Bucky to easily slide against your flesh, heat radiating from his pulsing cock as he grunted with each thrust. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”
Time seemed to warble, your brain unable to keep up as Bucky grabbed your ass, pressing your cheeks together so he could fuck them harder. “Shit, fuck, oh— oh, I’m close.”
Bucky suddenly pulled back, and you hoped the ordeal was over. How wrong you were.
“They’re soft as silk, Tinks,” Bucky commented, running his fingers over the reflective surface of your wings. You tried to flap them to get his hand to move away, but he was fast, grabbing onto the delicate membrane of your wing.
“Don’t touch them. That hurts,” you whimpered in your haze, writhing against the vines.
“Oh, I’m going to do far more than just touch them.”
You felt as Bucky played with the pliability of your wings, the body part easily manipulated as it was soft and light, the only dense part of your wings being the cartilage that secured them to your back.
Pure horror filled you as he placed his palm onto your wing, forcing it against the log, using his other hand to curve the opalescent surface of your appendage around his cock.
“Fuck. So fucking soft. I knew it would feel amazing,” Bucky moaned, using your wing like a sheath for his cock.
You could feel the heat from his dick against you, your wings sensitive and full of nerves like the rest of you.
“Stop…” You cried, tears still falling, and you were surprised you had any left to cry.
To be defiled like this was something unimaginable. The happiness that you so often felt in your soul was becoming a chimera – no more than a hopeful illusion.
With Bucky’s grunts sounding behind you, you craned your neck to look at the sky, the red reflection making it look as if you were shedding tears of blood.
The blood moon shone proudly, the sky clear of clouds, leaving just redness to cover everything. What did you do to deserve this? Was it simply your fate to be a sacrifice to the wretched? Was there such a thing as fate at all? For so long, you’d considered your life set up upon a lineage Mother Nature set out for you. But no loving figure would force this reality upon one of her creatures, right? Your whole belief system felt shaken, like your entire world compass was stomped on and shattered.
What had you done wrong?
In reality, you’d done nothing to merit such treatment.
Yet the world bestowed the pain on you regardless.
“Enough, stop. It hurts,” you whimpered, the bend on your wing uncomfortable as Bucky thrust into it.
“Oh, it feels too good to stop, pretty girl. It’s like fucking straight magic.” Bucky’s hands braced against the log, using wisps of dark power to keep your wing in a circle.
The power from him escalated, dark clouds pouring from him and billowing across the ground, covering the graveyard of souls surrounding you. His breathy moans got louder, his grip on the log causing cracks to form in the wood.
“F-Fuck, feels too good. I’m going to cum. Yeah, you want my cum, don’t you? Dirty slut.” His hips lost their rhythm, beginning to stutter as he came. Bucky was quick to pull back, his cum coating your back where your wings connected with your flesh.
It was an odd feeling that washed over you. It was something akin to calmness, although it was forced upon you. The last movement you could manage was to look back, brows knitting together when you saw that Bucky’s seed was coloured black, before your body went involuntarily lax.
You lay over the log, your breathing levelling out as you became numb to the world. His spell didn’t just anaesthetise your body, but your emotions too.
You couldn’t even wish to be asleep as you started at the foggy ground.
The vines eased up, not needing to hold you so tight when there was no struggle, their tension leaving marks on your limbs.
“You’re so perfect.” Bucky complimented, but there was no smile on your face.
There was nothing.
You were nothing.
This was the end of everything, and the start of the aphotic zone.
The remnants of your tears fell onto the bones below, cleaning away some of the dirt covering them. But the damage to them remained. Just as the damage to you began.
You couldn’t see what Bucky was doing, nor could you feel it, but you could hear it. There was a sick squelching noise, followed by a sawing sound, as Bucky began to hack at the cartilage connecting your wings.
It was like nails on a chalkboard, nausea roiling in your stomach as you had no choice but to lay there like a rat in a laboratory, ready to be dissected in some horrid experiment.
He could have magically removed them. He’d more than exemplified he had the power to. But he’d chosen the barbaric route for his own crooked pleasure.
Bucky was silent, concentrating on his work as your body wobbled with each run of the jagged blade against you. Blood coated your skin, the ichor running down your sides and covering the wood below you. It gushed out, and if you didn’t feel light-headed before, you certainly did now.
The only words you heard enter the world were a whispered fire incantation. It was then you smelt your flesh burning, the blade heated to cauterise your wound as it sliced.
If you had any control, you’d be wailing, screaming, doing anything to try and get out. Bucky stole your anguish from you, leaving you like a doll atop the log as your identity was violently stripped from your back.
Mother Nature had gifted you your wings. They were your responsibility. And you failed to protect them.
Yet, in your neutered state, you were apathetic about it.
The impromptu surgery went on for what felt like hours, the slow removal of your body parts done both with intricacy and unrelenting brutality.
Your back felt significantly lighter as your wings fell to the ground, crunching the skeletons below into dust.
It was done.
You would never be the same.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I left some scarring. I want my fairy to be special and bear markings made by her owner,” Bucky said proudly, as if you could respond.
You just stared at the skull below you. God, how you wished to be dead on the ground.
Bucky came around the log and stood in front of you, cupping your face with his palms so you were forced to look at his masked face. “Ready to go home?”
Drool dropped out of your mouth and down your chin, unable to control your functions. Bucky swiped away the moisture. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Bucky snapped his fingers, and you were instantly transported to his home.
It seemed like a small cabin in the middle of a forest, based on what you could see from the dirty window. Every surface was covered with tomes, vials, herbs, and materials needed for spells.
The place had an earthy smell with a mix of floral sweetness.
You sat in the corner of the room, and it took you a moment to realise you sat in a large birdcage. With your body still paralysed, you could only elicit a small whimper at the realisation that you were trapped. A purple field covered the cage, assumedly stopping you from using magic.
Bucky startled you, suddenly materialising with your wings in his arms. Seeing them made your heart drop to the earth's centre. They’d lost their colour, aura, and everything that made them special. Now, they were no more than an ingredient.
You watched as Bucky placed them onto his desk, dusting himself off before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry about the mess. I should have cleaned up before you came over. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”
There was a sense of anticipation as he removed his Oni mask, showing you for the first time his face. You were surprised at how handsome and regular he looked. Sometimes, the evillest were the people we’d never suspect if we passed them on the street. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He waved the mask before placing it next to your wings. “Since I act like a demon, I might as well look like one, right?”
With a grin, he moved to the bubbling cauldron that was hanging atop a fireplace, scooping up some of the mystery green liquid into a small wooden bowl.
There was intention in every movement as he collected the foul-smelling soup. As he came to your cage, every part of you wanted to scream and run. Yet you didn’t move an inch, sitting upon the cot with your back to the cage wall.
“Here. This will help you heal faster,” Bucky said, as if you had a choice in what you consumed. You felt ill as he got closer with the sloshing broth, your stomach flipping as he raised it to your lips. He had to physically pry your mouth open to pour the soup in, the heat sliding down your slack throat with ease. “That’s my girl, Tinks. Such a good fairy.”
His praises fell on deaf ears as your senses were overtaken by the putrid taste and smell of whatever concoction he had fed you. Almost instantly, you got movement and feeling back.
For the first time in your life, anger overtook you. You’d never felt rage before, but it was all that occupied you now.
With your wings gone, a whole part of you had been taken away. Without your gift of purity, you didn’t have the same emotional control. You felt human.
You jumped up, whacking the bowl from his grip and wrapping your hands around Bucky’s neck, ready to squeeze the life out of him. “I’m going to kill you,” you snarled, entirely unlike your usual self.
Bucky had stolen your innocence and replaced it with darkness.
“Is that so?” Bucky tilted his head, unphased as you squeezed. “Interesting.”
Your anger turned to desperation as Bucky’s form turned to sand in your grip, the course grit slipping through your fingers.
“No!” You screeched, running for the open cage door.
But Bucky was faster, reappearing on the other side of the cage and quickly slamming the wire door in your face.
“No! Let me out! You fucking wench! Hag! Get back here, you old bag and fucking let me go!” You gripped the bars, shaking them desperately as you tried to conjure as much magic as possible. But you had nothing, Bucky’s forcefield holding strong. “I can see why Mother Nature rejected you, warlock. You’re nothing more than an imp, picking on others so you can feel better about your own weakness. You fucking prick.”
There was no chastity left. Your virtue had been lost when your wings were stripped from your being.
“Now, now, that’s not nice. You hurt my feelings.” Bucky frowned, moving back from your enclosure. “Those wings of yours will grow back, and so will your temperament. I’m a very patient man, and I have no issue making your whole existence suffering. But if you know what’s good for you, you will apologise when I return. Wings or not, I expect you to keep the nature of a fairy, Tinks.”
With a flash, Bucky disappeared, leaving you alone in the dank room.
You collapsed to your knees, resolving into a fit of sobs. Without your object of anger there, you were reduced to nothing but sorrow.
Letting out a shuddered breath, you looked over your shoulder. Out from the scarring, popped the smallest amount of new cartilage.
The cycle would begin again.
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lotties-ashwagandha · 10 months ago
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HIGH PRIESTESS
lottie matthews x reader (gender neutral), word count 777.
you rest outside under the full moon with lottie, and she gives you a tarot reading. full cult leader lottie vibe tonight. also she smokes ehehe sapphics where are u
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The reflection of the moon cast a soft glow upon the lake. The water rippled, reinvigorated with the breeze that came ever so often. It was peaceful – there were hardly moments that weren’t peaceful here. The wellness center was built from and lived off of the joy it grew. 
The flickering of a light from beside you on the patio sofa caught your attention – your gaze moved from the lake to Lottie. You watched her light a cigarette, an expression of pensiveness occupying her features as she focused on the tarot cards laid out before her on the coffee table of your patio set. She picked one of them up after a moment, studying it carefully, and you were trying not to stare but you had grown bored of the book in your lap and even the tranquility of the lake dimmed in comparison to Lottie. 
She met your gaze. You looked away, opening your book up to the page you’d marked. Evenings like this were often, and they were your favorite – evenings where the two of you would sit outside by the lake just a short walk from Lottie’s cabin at the wellness center, when for a while you would update each other on your days and bathe in the affirmations of love spilled from each other’s lips, and then you would read and she would do tarot or sort through files of the camp’s residents. Evenings where you were exclusively each other’s while set in the backdrop of the grand aesthetics of the earth. 
“Do you want a reading?” Lottie asked you, and you turned your gaze back to her. She offered you a soft smile and gestured to the tarot cards. “It’s a full moon tonight, a reading could be useful.” 
You nodded. You weren’t entirely sure how the cards worked, but she had given you many readings, and in some sense all of them had proved to be accurate. It was well-known that Lottie was gifted in spirituality, and this was no exception. 
Cigarette held between her lips mindlessly, Lottie shuffled the cards. The cards were gorgeous, black with pale blue designs intricately printed onto the backs. And as she handled them, she seemed to become one with them, bonded with them. 
“What’s the reading for?” you asked. “What are the cards determining?” 
Lottie finished shuffling the cards and set them on the table. She held the cigarette in her left hand, blew the smoke from her lungs before responding. “During the full moon, we set intentions for the coming lunar cycle. This reading determines what your energy looks like right now, it shows us how you’re doing so that you can set the intentions you need going forward.” 
You still weren’t in complete understanding of it, but you didn’t question her. If she thought it would help, then it would. 
“Are you ready?” she asked. When you agreed, she drew three cards, and turned them over one by one. 
“The Fool,” she said, gesturing to the first card. 
“That’s endearing,” you said, sarcasm lacing your tone as you shook your head. 
“It is, actually,” she smiled and took your hand. “The Fool means you’re at the beginning of a journey, a journey I’m here to guide you on.” she wrapped an arm around you, and you took the opportunity to slide closer to her, leaning your head in the crook of her neck as you looked down at the other two cards. 
“The second card,” you said, “the two of cups, what does that mean?” 
“Balance,” Lottie explained. “Especially emotional balance. It means you’re finally beginning to find stability in your surroundings, that you can finally heal.” 
Your gaze drifted back to the water. Balance, the world you’d found here was balance itself. You’d found peace in multitudes in the arms of the woman that held you, that healed you, that brought you to the happiness you had always craved. 
“The third card?” 
“The Lovers,” she said, and she held you ever so slightly closer. “I don’t think I need to explain that one.” 
You shook your head. The two of you sat in contented silence as you rested in her arms, looking down at the tarot cards as they laid in the spread. Joy filled you, warm happiness that swelled in your chest and left you feeling giddy. Nothing could compare to the tranquility – the balance, the love – that occupied your every thought.  Lottie collected the tarot cards, but as she picked them up, one fell out – you picked it up for her and smiled as you read the title. Self-explanatory, and a sign of your eternal belonging: The High Priestess.
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myownwholewildworld · 2 months ago
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SNEAK PEEK - 12. MORNING DEW
chapter 11 | main masterlist | series masterlist a/n: hiya! just realised that it's been a month since i last posted chapter 11 and i am utterly sorry! please rest assured i am working on chapter 12 which should be released this coming week 🙏 i'm leaving here a teeny sneak peek as a peace offering in the meantime, love y'all so much and sorry for the wait! x sneak peek warnings: angst, yearning :D tagging some lovely people at the end 💖
****
With a deafening pulse in his eardrums, he kicked the sleeping bag off as he got up with jerky, edgy motions, running towards the door to stop you from leaving him. For you he would fight, he would give you a whole motherfucking speech of why he loved you and how sorry he was. He at least had to try.
Joel swung the door open, and a frosty breeze greeted him, his skin bristled almost painfully at the feeling of frostbite.
You were walking through the snow, wrapped in your coat and with the hood on ― you looked so ethereal, your side profile bathed by the moonlight like a night fairy. Your features glowed under the lunar lustre, and he couldn’t help but fall for you even more.
Barefoot he followed you, his soles numb after a few steps through the snowy mud.
“Babe, wait,” he muttered, one hand reaching for your elbow.
You startled at his touch, and Joel didn’t know if it was rejection or that he had surprised you.
Your big, beautiful eyes widened when you saw him there. You wore a tired expression, and he knew himself the culprit.
“Where are you going?” he questioned in a whisper, heart still and lungs empty.
“I―”
“Please don’t go, don’t leave. I can do better. I’m sorry,” Joel stumbled with his words.
Had never felt this exposed as he was about to split his core in half, to undress emotionally in front of someone, allowing himself to be hurt by the only person it mattered.
But it had to be done to keep you by his side. So he did.
****
@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981 @fancyyoouu
@smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille @harriedandharassed
@thepalaceofmelanie @eternallyvenus @theoraekenslover @vickie5446
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gummysunnybear · 3 months ago
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YOU KNOW WHAT!?
SCREW YOU!
*throws sun angst headcanons at you*
Cries himself to sleep since he's scared that he'll lose his full family
Will sometimes steal solars goggles and turn on his glowing mode and stand in front of a mirror
Cries quietly to not alert moon
Feels like a burden
Hates the daycare music
Will sometimes hang out in the theater and just sit there humming music he knows solar liked as a memory of solar
Will sometimes tell the kids solar was his brother and not his cousin
Wish he died instead of solar because moon can remake him
Will sometimes call himself "eclipse" because of what lunar said in the past
(Words stick to him hard)
Will sometimes call him "mistake" & "accident" because he feels useless
Will sometimes wish he could power off and wake up to where he family is happy and all alive
Rewatches the shows episodes just to feel happy about his memories
Sometimes forces himself to smile so no one worries about him
Will sometimes act like he is talking to moon to tell him he's feeling suicidal
Likes when the kids call him "sunny" because he wants to ask moon to call him it
Has a plushie of everyone and sleeps with them
Likes to watch horror movies to scare himself
Has a fear of moon leaving him
Has separaten anxiety and will call moon/solar/earth/lunar/monty every 5 seconds
Wonder what happens to the moon he visited
Will sometimes act like eclipse since he feels like he is becoming eclipse
Has nightmares dying
Once drank so much wine he threw up and gagged at the taste for a week
Hates glitter glue
Will cry when moon says "I'm proud of you"
Was upset when solar said he was proud of them both because he felt like he should have died instead
Feel unloved
Feels like he is worthless
Hates when he is blamed for bloodmoons death as in his eyes it was self defense (it was bloodmoon was threatening him in his home)
Will sometimes try to drown himself
Will sometimes take baths to feel "brand new"
Hears old moons harsh words
Feels guilty for being a "bad brother" to old moon and old lunar
Wish he could go back in time and not go to kill eclipse
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labeteenmoi · 3 months ago
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Kings of the Subura
Part 3
Fandom : Those About To Die
Pairing : Tenax x OC
Warnings : explicit sexual content, violence mentions, alcohol abuse
Summary : The perfect date ;)
Tagging the beloved readers @pckji @somebirdortheother and @darkrose33
Notes : if you want to be tagged for the next chapter, just hit me
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In the now well installed night, Tenax’s appartment was plunged in darkness, only the faint moonlight rays allowed to see where to put your feet to reach the long wooden table.
That's where she headed, mechanically, distantly hearing Tenax closing the entrance door behind her. Her mind lightly fogged by the wine, Briga felt his eyes on her back, his footsteps following her and his breath’s increasing intensity as he got closer. She turned around and was taken aback by his immediate proximity, more than she had perceived.
Tenax was only contours in the darkness, and a lunar flickering glow in the eyes that were leaning in on her. She barely had time to hold a breath in as his lips landed on hers.
That had been quite an interesting day.
That morning, as soon as Briga had joined Claudia and his master in the kitchen, he had declared:
"Claudia, please braid her hair. We’re going to the races."
Tenax held back a smile while observing Briga’s reaction, almost as well as she held back her thrill.
Four days and four nights had passed since the last race and just as much time following the other's actions out of the corner of their eyes, as if nothing had happened and yet, something had changed in the way they looked at each other. A curious tension was growing between them, and Tenax's discussion about the balance of power was not unrelated to it: each tried to keep the upper hand on the other, both in denial the obvious attraction.
He held his breath when Claudia brought her back, dressed like he'd never seen her before. She wore a sober grey dress but made of a thin and flowing good quality fabric that enveloped her silhouette lightly, making her appear even more slender; and a long, soft braid rested on her shoulder, falling to her waist. Her dark hair thus disciplined gave her a wise and serious air, but her smooth tanned face with its cold pale green gaze made her seem inaccessible, severe. This pleased him, very much. Above all, he liked that her appearance hid so well the ferocity that slumbered within her.
"Let’s go." He finally let out in a controlled exhale, forcing himself to take his eyes off her.
She followed him down the stairs, barely breathing, trying to refrain the excitement of finally seeing the sun and the sky wide open over her head, so concentrated that she almost bumped into Tenax when he suddenly stopped in his tracks when reaching the last door separating them from the outside, and turned around.
She looked up at him, surprised. There was a vague concern in his eyes that seemed to search her face for the words he wanted to say.
He hesitated. Was it safe to let her out, wouldn’t she just disappear at the first corner of the crowded streets. Should he impose his authority, threaten her as to keep her close. But when he saw a look of sincere disappointment growing on her face, he changed his mind and turned around, finally opening the door.
She followed his steps outside and stopped. Intense golden rays of sunlight of the late morning fell upon her and Tenax realized that was all she was longing for, to revel in the warm and comforting light. So, he waited for her to have her fill, watching her face raised to the sky with closed eyes, her skin seemed suddenly made of gold.
She had almost forgotten where she was, bathing in the soothing light of the sun. When she regained her senses with a deep breath, Briga saw Tenax staring at her intensely.
"I’m ready." She said, a slightly amused pout on her lips.
Tenax cleared his throat for good measure and continued his way without a word, leading her through the streets of the Subura.
She had never seen so many people in only one place, crossing paths and saluting each other; children running through their legs, dogs barking, merchants shouting, smokes and smells of food, sweat and flowers. A joyful chaos that respectfully parted on Tenax’s way, like a king honouring his grateful subjects of his presence. She followed right behind him for a while but as the crowd got denser, he slowed down to let her reach his side.
He sometimes commented the streets and tall monuments they crossed, and she would silently watch and listen with an unmoved expression.
They reached a large dim-lighted tavern. Like most of the streets they had been through, it seemed as if the place had been built in the basements of the city, like an anthill in the ground that only reaches the surface and the light of day through a few rare interstices. This one was in the shadow of the impressive Circus Maximus, a construction so large she could only have a glimpse of it from the outside.
"This is my betting tavern, the largest one in Rome." said Tenax with a proud smile, waving his hands as if he were making the place appear by magic.
He would have liked to see at least a hint of admiration appear on her face, but she remained stony. With a resigned pout, he took her to a table where several large men were eating and talking loudly; at their approach they became promptly silent.
"This is Briga, she works for me." Tenax declared with authority. They all nodded respectfully while eyeing her with curiosity. "Take a seat," he added to her intention, "I have some matters to discuss."
As he left her there and headed to the betting counter on the other side of a used brownish curtain, she turned to the men that kept watching her in silence while chewing on their food. Surely, knowing that they shared the same master prevented them of showing any kind of disrespect. She did appreciate that Tenax did not mention her as his slave, a fair gesture that somewhat made her feel at ease while she glared back at them.
After a few moments of intense mutual gauging, some stares becoming wary, others warming up; a tall, bald man gathered some bread and fruits onto a plate and pretended to hand it to her before placing it on the table next to him. She observed his gestures and as he waited, she nodded slightly before taking place at the table as silently as a cat and eating a few grapes.
"Wine?" asked the bald man while lifting a jug.
He had a little defiant air this time, a small, amused smile lifting the corner of his lips and hold still as if waiting for a particular answer.
"Yes." Briga finally let out with narrowed eyes.
"She talks!" happily let out one of the men.
His peers chuckled in unison before resuming their conversations as the man poured her the wine.
After a moment, Tenax popped out from behind the curtain and tilted his head in surprise at seeing her sipping on a glass, installed at the table with his men as if they had been long time acquaintances. He approached behind her and grabbed a slice of apple from her plate, hovering over her shoulder. She froze instantly, feeling him against her back, his arm almost closing on her chest as he picked the fruit. Such proximity felt strangely intimate, and the men next to her seemed to have the same feeling from their equivocal grins as they watched their master’s move. He had done it again, giving her some confidence before tauntingly taking it back. It felt amusingly annoying to her but she kept it to herself with the straightest face she could summon.
He stood-up, biting the apple with an amused grin, faking innocence in his intentions.
"Don’t you have anything else to do that would be worth my money?" he called out ironically to his grinning men.
How strange this degree of loyalty from all the people that surrounded Tenax, she thought. All of them had stood up like one, with no objection nor annoyed sigh on their lips, and left the room on the instant. Perhaps if he paid her, she would act the same way.
"Is the wine good?" he asked with a smirk.
"I’ve had better." She daringly answered while taking another sip.
Tenax chuckled: "Good enough for what it’s for, though."
Indeed, it was. It was suspiciously spicy on the tongue but with a sweet aftertaste, it didn't take a whole glass to start feeling her head and eyelids a little heavier. It reminded her that it had been a while since she hadn’t drunk wine, making it even more intoxicating.
"Come, I have matters to see at the stables before the race starts." He ordered, however reaching out his hand to help her up.
Briga’s eyes oscillated between the hand and his face with a discrete interrogative air, wondering if he could see that her senses were getting a bit numb, and chose to ignore his help with a defiant glare. She could play too after all. He snickered briefly at the attitude but seemed more amused than annoyed.
The stables were even more plunged in the darkness than the tavern, and the heavy smell left no doubt to where they were. Her master took her inside what he called the blue faction one and left her in front of the first box where a beautiful brown stallion was nibling on some hay, while he attended to whatever business he had there again, disappearing in the depths of it.
As she approached the box, the horse lifted his head when suddenly a familiar voice raised behind her:
"That is a beautiful beast, don’t you think?"
Scorpus. She rolled her eyes but didn't turn away from the animal.
The man came closer, speaking softer as he advanced:
"It’s heavy but fast… and powerful!... Do you want to touch it?" he added, his tone heavy with innuendo as he reached her side, eyeing her silhouette with a malicious grin.
His eyes suddenly lit up when she turned her head to him.
"You!" He searched his memory for a few seconds. "Briga! I’m happy to see you!"
His enthusiasm was quite disturbing to say the least. Despite the salacious words he had addressed her, he seemed a bit different than the first time she met him. He looked refreshed, wearing a clean blue toga under a leather breastplate with white pants, and smelled good. His wide smile reached his eyes, giving him an air of sincere sympathy. She even found him attractive, and for that, she blamed the wine.
"You couldn’t wait to see the great Scorpus, right?" he bragged.
She took her thoughts back; there he was, the one she had previously met.
"Are you all by yourself?" he questioned, tilting his head, getting closer to Briga.
"No." she retorted coldly, overtly turning her eyes away from him.
"Oh… Where’s your master, then?" he almost whispered in her ear with a hint of disappointment.
She winced at the mention of her status of slave, he was probably the last person she had wanted aware of that, he had showed a bit too much interest in it when he had learned.
Then she recalled Tenax’s words about how her impulsive aggressive reactions could undermine her in the eyes of others, and it provided her enough determination not to recoil at his closeness while calmly looking at him in the eye.
"He’s looking for you." She lied, implying that he was nearby in any case.
Scorpus’ smile turned slightly bitter.
"Yeah… it’s a shame I can’t take care of you right now…" he murmured, his eyes conspicuously landing on the neckline of her dress. "But come see me after I win the race, beautiful." He added, gently grabbing her waist and pulling her against him with both hands. She repressed a flinch at his touch.
"Why would I do that?" she sighed back, fighting the urge to extract herself from his grip.
His eyes fluttered at her words and his smile widened seductively: "Because… I know what you want…"
Her look turned a little lascivious. His face was so close to hers that their lips almost touched.
"Do you, now?... Charioteer…" Briga sough with a touch of scorn in her voice.
Scorpus snorted in surprise. What was with that tone of hers? He was the great Scorpus, the faster and most skilled there had ever been in Rome, not just any charioteer. How dared a mere slave talk to him down like that? For once he was left speechless, his frowned look flickering between indignation and dazzle at such effrontery.
Finally receding, his now irritated expression seemed to announce a scathing retort, but a loud voice cut him short.
"Scorpus!" shouted Tenax from the other end of the stables, "Shouldn’t you be at the weigh-in by now?"
Scorpus sighed heavily, biting his lip with an irate look at Briga who remained impassive, trying her best not to show her relief.
"I'm not done with you, slave." he grumbled, shaking his head grimly. "Well, I’m here, aren’t I?" he bawled suddenly at Tenax while moving towards him.
"You always liked to make yourself desired…" sneered Tenax with a sarcastic smile.
"Were’s the entertainment in races without me anyway?" Scorpus playfully reacted.
As he reached Tenax, he took a quick back glance at Briga who was petting the horse.
"You’ve brought your pet, I see." He maliciously whispered to Tenax who displayed a forced smile in return, "I preferred her when she didn't speak…" he bitterly grunted as he left.
A burst of pride made Tenax smile as he looked at Briga in the distance; Scorpus wasn’t easy to turn down for he had unfailing self-confidence; which usually really impressed the ladies. But from what he had seen, his friend's ego must have taken a hit, probably even more hurtful coming from a slave.
It was with that same smile that he joined her. She expected to receive some kind of reprimand, not knowing exactly what Scorpus had said to him.
"Let's go see the Circus now!" he announced cheerfully.
Her hard gaze softened then; she even sketched a smile for the first time. If he had known, Tenax would have offered her wine much sooner.
One must be at the higher places to grasp all the splendour of such building as the Circus Maximus was. The race was about to start. Already the drums and cornets were sounding to order the spectators to take their places before the emperor Flavius Vespasianus arrived in the arena to bless the spectacle.
As they took their seats in the last, uncrowded row, Briga looked around the entire perimeter of the magnificent structure. To her amazement, the building seemed even larger from the inside, immense and powerful from the hubbub of so many people in one place.
"Finally, you are impressed!" chuckled softly Tenax at her.
She gasped with a soft grin: " You Romans are not afraid of excess, for sure."
"There is the emperor, look." He declared, pointing his finger at the balcony where a distant, white-dressed figure appeared under cheers of the crowd.
"Small." She ironically commented, at what Tenax openly cackled.
"It must be why they all build such tall monuments, something to compensate for…" he joked, and she smiled so widely that her cheeks revealed dimples that Tenax had not known existed until then. Her gaze was transformed, bright and sparkling as if she no longer carried deep wounds within her.
He remained entranced at her beauty for a moment before starting to wonder what sort of awful circumstances might have led this young woman where she was.
"How did you find yourself on that slave market?" he asked out of the blue with a disconcerted look.
Her smile slowly faded on her face as memories began to flood into her mind. She breathed in deeply, feeling her throat tighten a little, and fixed her gaze on the chariots which had just roared off to the sound of the trumpet. It did not distract Tenax from watching every tiny movement her eyes and mouth made while probably recalling the origin of the events. He wasn’t sure she would answer, she may just as well shut down and decide not to speak at all anymore. He was preparing for this turn of events when, with her absent gaze fixed on the track, she said:
"I killed a Roman soldier."
"Oh…" he let out, widening his eyes in astonishment. Giving it some more thought, he wasn’t that surprised that it had to do with something violent. He was about to ask her to say more but she nibbled her lower lip like she was dithering, so he held back.
"So, they put me on a boat to Rome." She let out in a sigh, still avoiding Tenax’s look.
Tenax suspended his breath for a second, thinking there would be more to that story than the elusive answer she had just given him, then nodded slightly when he understood there wouldn’t. She kept her eyes on the chariots running around on the track, a metal fish-like sculpture would tilt down with every new lap completed under the cheers from the crowd that seemed to increasingly support the racers.
"That’s what people bet on at your tavern, then?" Briga unexpectedly asked, at last fleetingly meeting his eyes after two laps of uneasy silence.
He could tell she was trying to divert his thoughts towards another subject, and she was right sensing that he could not stop wondering what had happened.
"Yes..." he retorted, finally watching the track for an instant, "Scorpus is the one they mostly bet on. I’m sure you remember him." He sneered gently.
"I do." She commented sharply.
She seemed to loosen a bit, but there was still some defiance in her eyes, perhaps perceiving her master’s frustration and the burning questions he had on his mind to which, he was certain, she wanted to answer, but maybe not so easily. Both struggling mentally to know who would snap first, they barely talked much until the end of the race when most of the crowd stood up chanting the name of Scorpus who had won the race.
Tenax suddenly stood up as well.
"I have to check on the bets. Let’s go." He bluntly ordered without a look.
She followed silently, trying to keep up his pace, her eyes on his back while trying to repel a tingling feeling of guilt for apparently making him mad.
When they almost reached the bottom of the stairs, the crowd suddenly rushed in all at the same time, flooding the space they were in. So many heads and voices overwhelmed them, joyfully shouting and scrambling in between them, making her lose sight of Tenax. She stopped, trying to resist the flow pushing behind her, a hint of anxiety arising in her chest as she searched for him in the multitude. Her chest started tightening, making it hard to breathe, the air itself was becoming warmer and thicker, seemingly burning her throat at every breath she tried to take, coating her lungs and squeezing them. She found herself gasping for air when someone grabbed her hand and pulled her aside, extracting her from the crushing pressure of the mob.
She panted deeply, stunned by the suffocating sensation she had just felt before realizing she was firmly holding the hand that had grabbed her. She recognized Tenax’s dark brown toga, raising her eyes to a reassuring look on his face. Without a word, he pulled her gently towards the gigantic gates of the circus and did not let go of her hand until reaching his tavern.
"Alright, stay here." He commanded her as reaching a table near the tavern counter and making her seat. "You, bring her wine." He ordered unceremoniously a young man holding a pitcher before heading to the betting counter.
The place was darker than before from the well-advanced afternoon and its receding sun, and much crowded and noisy than at noon.
Briga was finally catching her breath when the boy brought her a pitcher and a cup. She poured herself a glass and drank more eagerly than she originally intended. The spicy beverage soothed her throat and her spirits. She had been so unsettled by the panic she had felt when overwhelmed by the crowd that she barely remembered how she got there.
Tenax soon joined her with a short-breathed sigh, as if he had rushed his chores, and sat at the table in front of her, holding an empty cup that he promptly replenished with wine before adding some into her well-emptied one.
He took a sip, staring at her wary eyes over his cup, before saying:
"There’s a lot of people here, huh. I too felt quite crushed the first time I found myself in Rome."
She snorted:
"How did you get here?"
That wine was definitely stronger than the one back in Lusitania, and quite treacherous. As saying this she could already feel its disinhibiting effects taking control of her tongue.
"By foot." He joked softly with a playful look.
Briga narrowed her eyes with a smirk, appreciating the wit.
Tenax was dying to ask about the circumstances of her actions, and he could just as well have said it out loud because she unexpectedly addressed the matter on her own:
"His name was Caius." She said, looking into her cup before bringing it to her lips, taking a sip to give herself courage.
"He was part of the battalion detached near my village in Lusitania, by the sea." She resumed, holding her cup with both hands with an absent look. "As Romans do, they just acted like they owned it, but well, at least they paid for the fish and meat they bought me almost every day. This soldier came to see me more and more often, he was friendly. We started spending a lot of time together after a while, talking, sometimes hunting, fishing. He was nice, I thought."
She took a deep breath and another sip under Tenax’s scrutinizing stare. He had ears only for her, so much so that the shouts and the commotion of the tavern's many customers did not even reach him.
"One day he told me his battalion was returning to Rome the next day, so he wished to see me that night, he had something for me. I said yes. The fool I was thought he wanted to kiss me." She bitterly snickered. "But when I arrived near the forest where he wanted to meet, he wasn’t alone. Two of his friends snuck up on me and held me down while he raped me." Her mouth twitched with anger at the memory and her hands squeezed her cup harder. "He laughed so hard when he saw the blood between my legs. "I had never fucked a virgin!" he said."
Tenax raised an eyebrow, both in disgust and in surprise; she looked to be in her twenties and for all he knew at that age girls are usually married, if not with children already.
"Then his friends’ turn came." She kept on in an exhale, her eyes still in the void. "I pretended to have fainted, so it would be over quickly, and when he came over me again, to bloat, I caught the sword at his belt and stabbed through his neck with it." Briga paused, raising a chilling look at him. "He did not laugh much then."
Tenax could literarily feel the cold anger raging under her skin, he could tell she only regretted not making him suffer more.
"His friends panicked and knocked me out; I woke up chained in a boat heading to Ostia." She concluded sternly.
Tenax hummed softly with the most neutral pout he could muster. She was proud, he knew that much, and the wine aiding, she would most probably overreact at any kind of condescendence. Even if he suspected other things happened between Ostia and Rome, he chose to leave it there for the time being.
"I still don’t see why you dislike Romans that much." he smoothly jested.
Briga sniggered briefly, her eyes slowly softening into an amused wavering look on Tenax.
"I may be a little thin-skinned." she let out with a smirk.
He chuckled back softly, already caught in a kind of fascinated contemplation. She seemed so strong and vulnerable at the same time. Innocently hoping for a kiss from the man she liked and ending killing him for his disgusting betrayal. At that instant, picturing her story in his head, he found himself overcome with resentment, he too suddenly hated those damned soldiers for what they had done to her. She probably never had the chance to experience any kind of sweetness, nor pleasure, only violence. Not even a kiss.
At this thought he caught a glimpse of her lips where a trace of smile lingered and felt an irresistible urge to repair that unfairness. The wine was working its magic on him too it seemed. The air suddenly grew warmer, and a salacious tingling began to taunt his crotch.
He cleared his throat sitting up in his chair, trying to recover his composure under Briga's now inquisitive stare. When she looked at him like that, he always had the feeling she could read him, almost hear his thoughts. He couldn't have it.
"Do you know why I bought you?" he bluntly asked all of a sudden.
Briga tilted with a cold look, biting her lip in a restrained rise of annoyance.
"I was cheap." she retorted sharply.
Tenax pouted softly, hardly repressing a smile at her repartee before locking his eyes on hers with authority:
"Yes, they couldn’t sell you for much anyway…" he said, facing the growing anger in her eyes, "but no. You were unwavering." Tenax paused, observing her mood shifting. "You were beaten, mistreated, humiliated, and yet you stood tall and proud, indomitable in the face of the fate that awaited you. That’s what frightened them all. That’s what struck me the most. You reminded me of myself."
Something flickered inside her. Many questions arose in her confused mind about his past, but it was the pleasant shiver that ran through her skin that prevailed and kept her tongue-tied. She thought he just wanted to fuck her, like the others, and realizing Tenax may be truly different, an unexpected, aroused twitching shook her lower belly.
She swallowed, speechless in front of this man who was looking at her so intensely that he could probably guess her thoughts, when a loud voice echoed in the tavern.
Tenax widened his eyes, recognizing Scorpus who had probably already celebrated his victory widely. He turned and saw him staggering between the tables, laughing, an overly made-up woman under each arm.
"Time to go." He addressed firmly at Briga without a glance as he stood up and set off to meet him. From his eagerness to go ahead of Scorpus, she sensed his annoyance. That loud man really had a terrible timing, always showing up when things were getting serious between them.
She stood up behind him and did her best to remain out of Scorpus’ sight.
"Congratulations on another victory, Scorpus!" extravagantly rejoiced Tenax.
Scorpus smirked with undisguised satisfaction.
"Fortuna favours me, always!" he brazenly declared, wavering his head rendered heavier by the excess of strong beverages.
Tilting his head to catch a glimpse at Briga who was looking down, he licked his lips before resuming in a drawling voice.
"Yeah, hum I’m having a celebration with these huh… beauties! Would you like to join, you and… your slave?"
Briga ticked at the words and raised a riled glare at Scorpus who gloated, seemingly satisfied of the way he had caught her attention. She cursed herself for this lack of self-control.
"Hum… Another time." Intervened Tenax with a tensed smile, stepping in between their glances.
Before Scorpus could replicate, Tenax intimated to Briga to pass him by with a tilt of the head, which she did while still staring at Scorpus with a now disdainful look.
His smile faded.
"Why is she looking at me like that?" he mumbled almost indistinctively, turning around as they were leaving. "Whipping!" he started shouting at them angrily, "You should whip her, Tenax! Show a slave how to behave!"
They continued without turning around.
"You enjoy your night, Scorpus!" Tenax shouted back.
As soon as Scorpus’s voice could not reach them anymore, Tenax sighed and threw a quick glance at Briga; she looked upset.
"You could have fallen on a worse master." He said in a light tone.
She looked up at him with a perplexed look before getting his meaning and sighed. The vapours of wine in her body seemed to have receded with this unpleasant encounter but suddenly resurfaced when she crossed his eyes, he was right but why would she admit it?
"No whipping then?" she enticingly questioned.
Tenax chuckled softly, she just kept surprising him. As he eyed her up and down, he felt a warm rush in his veins, wondering if she had any idea of how she made him feel.
"No need." He retorted with an inflated voice, suggesting that his natural authority was sufficient in itself.
She chuckled too; a letting go that she thought would never happen again. This growing bond was a new feeling and so pleasant that she could well get used to it.
The path seemed much shorter for the return than for the outward journey. They hadn’t stopped, nor watched the buildings around them, walking straight towards Tenax’s apartment with a rising anticipation in their chests that rendered them too breathless to speak.
As they arrived, they instinctively slowed down their pace, almost lingering on their way up, each uncertain of what the next moments would be made of and what to do with all the excitement blooming inside of them.
It’s with this persistent incertitude that Briga had entered and turned around when reaching the table to find herself facing him closer than ever, mere instants before she felt his soft lips on hers. The stupefaction made her forget to breathe but her body took over and she exhaled shortly as his lips retreated from hers.
He soon leaned again and pressed her mouth harder, closing the remaining space between them, making Briga recoil against the large wooden table behind her. The retained eagerness was breaking out of their bodies as their kiss became more frenetic and their exhales in each other’s cheeks deeper and faster.
Tenax pressed her head as he parted her lips with his tongue, entering her mouth as she let out an amazed moan and grabbed his toga fervently. He pushed his body against hers tighter and slowly moved his hands along her neck until under the ties of her dress on her shoulders. Gliding further, he liberated her shoulders from the fabric and bared her chest, clenching his fingers to better feel her firm skin under his touch, the roundness of her breasts and the curves of her waist and hips.
When his hands reached her thighs, he grabbed them smoothly and lifted her to sit on the table, parting her legs and lifting the bottom of her dress up until he could feel her skin under his hands before pushing his waist on hers. She gasped and tightened her legs on him, nagging the hardness she could feel growing against her crotch that he made even more obvious when pressing on her ass with both hands over her undergarment.
Something snapped in her mind at that moment, a familiar sensation that did not fit with the thrill of the moment and she broke the kiss abruptly, instinctively pulling Tenax’s tunic back with her body stiffening.
Tenax held back his gestures instantly, feeling the sudden reluctance for his touch, and waited a few seconds for them to catch their breaths. He couldn’t read her face in the darkness, but he could well imagine why she would react that way.
"I won’t hurt you, Briga" he softly whispered, gently pressing his hands on her.
She kept silent, breathing shortly. She wanted to believe him, there was this itchy sensation inside her that she knew only he could relieve, but she feared it would feel the same way as with the others.
"Let me show you." He suggested in a murmur, waiting for a consent which soon came in the form of a light caress on his back. Her body seemed to relax a little, her breathing becoming more regular and calmer.
He leaned over her, placed a kiss on her lips before brushing her chin with his lips, slowly hovering over her skin as going down her neck. He nibbled and kissed her breasts and started kneeling before her. She felt his warm breath and touch travel down her stomach, his growing beard tickling her skin as he passes, and breathed heavily when he reached her crotch and gently kissed the inside of her thighs, brushing her skin slowly until reaching the loincloth covering her sex. Briga grabbed the table frenetically in expectation. Tenax retreated his head, breathing as calmly as he could, and reached for her hips to untie it in slow motions as if not to startle her.
Her sex exposed, he grabbed her thighs and moved his face along her legs until delving his face further in between. Briga let out an uncontrolled whimper when he started kissing and licking the sensitive slit that she feared would be harmed by a man again. That was as far from harm as it could be. The touch of his lips and tongue, in turn delicate and slow, and sometimes intense as eager to consume her whole, rendered her out of breath. She had never felt such tingles in her body, such heat under and over her skin.
She started sensing a vertigo and held on to his hair, entangling her fingers in his soft locks and pressing his head ever so tight against her, frantically moaning and gasping as he held stronger on to her legs and bottom.
Squeezing his mouth uncontrollably on the very spot that gave her so much pleasant shivers, she felt the vibrations of Tenax’s gasps and lascivious groans against her, increasingly aroused by her demonstrative pleasure.
As he teased the burning and moistened little bump of flesh with his tongue, at times sucking on it, the shivers grew wider inside of her, expanded in her belly in waves until bursting through her whole body, leaving her stunned and trembling in the aftermath of the climax.
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enchantedwitchling · 8 months ago
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Harnessing the Power of the Full Moon: Rituals and Spells for Tonight's Lunar Magic
🌕✨🔮
The full moon is a time of heightened energy, illumination, and powerful magic. As the moon reaches its peak tonight, it's an ideal moment to harness its potent energy for rituals, spells, and practices that enhance your spiritual journey. Let's explore how witches can celebrate the full moon, embrace its magic, and connect with its radiant power.
The Significance of the Full Moon
The full moon represents a time of completion, clarity, and manifestation. It illuminates what has been hidden, bringing light to our intentions and dreams. This lunar phase is perfect for releasing what no longer serves you, charging your magical tools, and performing spells that require extra power.
Full Moon Rituals and Practices
🌕 Full Moon Bath Ritual
A full moon bath is a wonderful way to cleanse and recharge your energy.
1. Fill your bathtub with warm water and add sea salt or Epsom salts to purify.
2. Add essential oils (like lavender or rosemary) and sprinkle in some dried herbs or flower petals (such as chamomile, rose, or sage).
3. Light white or silver candles around the tub and turn off the lights.
4. Soak in the bath, visualizing the moon's light cleansing and revitalizing you. Reflect on what you wish to release and let go of it as you relax in the water.
🔮 Moon Water Creation
Create moon water to use in future spells, rituals, and for drinking to imbue yourself with lunar energy.
1. Fill a clear glass jar or bottle with fresh water.
2. Place it outside or on a windowsill where it will be bathed in the full moon's light overnight.
3. Seal the container in the morning and store the moon water for use in your magical practices.
✨ Charging Crystals and Tools
The full moon is an ideal time to charge and cleanse your crystals and magical tools.
1. Place your crystals, tarot cards, and other tools outside or on a windowsill to soak up the moon's energy.
2. Leave them overnight to cleanse and recharge.
3. In the morning, thank the moon and retrieve your energized tools.
🌿 Full Moon Releasing Ritual
Release negativity and make space for new growth with a simple but powerful ritual.
1. Write down what you wish to release on a piece of paper.
2. Light a candle and focus on the flame, visualizing the moon's light dissolving your worries and burdens.
3. Burn the paper safely in a fireproof bowl or cauldron, saying, "I release what no longer serves me. So mote it be."
4. Scatter the ashes to the wind, trusting that the moon has taken your burdens away.
Full Moon Spells
🌕 Manifestation Spell
Harness the full moon's energy to manifest your desires.
1. Gather a white or silver candle, a piece of paper, and a pen.
2. Write down your intentions or goals clearly and positively.
3. Light the candle and visualize your desires coming to fruition under the full moon's light.
4. Read your intentions aloud and place the paper under the candle.
5. Let the candle burn down safely, keeping your focus on your intentions.
🔮 Love and Harmony Spell
Enhance love and harmony in your life with a full moon spell.
1. Gather a pink or red candle, rose petals, and rose quartz.
2. Create a small altar with the candle in the center, surrounded by rose petals and the rose quartz.
3. Light the candle and visualize loving energy surrounding you and your relationships.
4. Chant, "By the light of the moon, love and harmony bloom. So mote it be."
5. Let the candle burn down safely, feeling the love and harmony fill your heart.
🌿 Healing Spell
Use the full moon's energy to promote healing and well-being.
1. Gather a blue candle, lavender or chamomile, and a piece of amethyst.
2. Create a small altar with the candle in the center, surrounded by the herbs and amethyst.
3. Light the candle and visualize healing light from the moon enveloping you or the person you wish to heal.
4. Chant, "Under the full moon's glow, let healing energy flow. So mote it be."
5. Let the candle burn down safely, trusting in the moon's healing power.
✨🌙✨
The full moon is a magical time of reflection, release, and manifestation. By engaging in these rituals, practices, and spells, you can connect deeply with the moon's powerful energy and enhance your spiritual journey. As we bask in the glow of tonight's full moon, may your intentions be illuminated, your burdens lifted, and your spirit renewed.
Blessed Full Moon!
🌕✨🔮
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anonymousewrites · 2 months ago
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Of Two Worlds (Book 3) Chapter Twenty-One
Fushiguro Megumi x Half-Curse! Reader
Chapter Twenty-One: Eclipse
Summary: The Night brings both light and shadow.
Mouse Note: Only one chapter left.
            Nanami, Sukuna, Itadori, and all the rest of those left looked up at the sky as streaks of moonlight bathed the world scarlet. None of them could decide what they were looking at. Were they seeing more of Sukuna’s power? Was this a new technique? A plan from Ren? Or something new and worse?
            “A Blood Moon.” Sukuna’s lip curled.
            “You don’t like it? Or do you not like what it means?”
            Itadori’s eyes widened. “Fushiguro!” He whirled to look up at the building behind him, and shock ran through him. “Fushiguro…?”
            Megumi stood at the side of a building, looking down from a hole that the battles against Sukuna had created. However, his return was not what gave Itadori pause, not at all. No, it was Megumi’s appearance. He wore a black and white yukata that looked like shadows were crawling up it, and as the wind blew the layers of fabric, it created the illusion of smoke circling him.
            “Fushiguro Megumi,” said Sukuna. He raised a brow. “And here I’d thought you’d roll over and die.”
            “I remembered why I’m still standing,” said Megumi, jumping down and landing beside Itadori.
            Itadori furrowed his brow as he saw Megumi’s hands in the moonlight. Despite the red glow, they were stained black as if they had been dipped into ink.
            “Interesting new trick you learned,” said Sukuna. He grinned cruelly. “Taking over the moon for the dearly departed?” After all, Sukuna knew that if Nox and Nyx hadn’t returned yet—they were gone. And that meant the Halfing was as well.
            “The shadows are my domain, not the moon,” said Megumi.
            “Fushiguro, are you—”
            “Sukuna, he doesn’t have a heartbeat.” Ren narrowed her eyes.
            Sukuna looked at Megumi. “No heartbeat? Then how…Ah.” Sukuna’s grin widened into a wild expression. “Oh, my, what have you done to yourself, sorcerer? Or can you be called that?”
            “I did what was necessary.” Megumi smirked ever-so-slightly. “Besides, my heart has always belonged to someone else.”
            “Lunar Cycle: Gibbus Moon.”
            A silver streak crossed the red sky, and a katana struck down. Sukuna shifted to dodge, but the slice cut through his half-mask, and it fell from his face to leave his tattoos and four eyes bathed in moonlight. Uraume kept a calm gaze, but their eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the quick attack on Sukuna. Ren drew her katana and narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t felt cursed energy she recognized. This was…new. And yet she also knew it couldn’t be, and she understand who now stood in the moonlight.
            “Straight to the attack.” Sukuna gaze was full of malevolence. “Nox would be so disappointed.”
            “I’m not Nyx.”
            The curse of the Moon looked back at him evenly, katana in her outstretched hand—the picture of warrior-like grace. Beneath the blood red moon, bathed in scarlet, (Y/N) looked spectacular, ethereal, inhuman. She wore long pants that were loose and tied together at the bottom, and they were made of flowing fabric that seemed to be woven from the stars. They were black with an array of blue and silver streaks, constellations and moon phases stitched into the fabric with precision. Her top was black with a halter-neck with a silver moonstone sat at her throat. Silver, translucent fabric belts fell around her hips. And, a stark difference to her clothing as a human until the end of Shibuya, her arms were bare of sleeves or gloves.
            The complete set of curse marks were clear on her arms—silver and beautiful. Those same marks now also sat on her forehead like a crown, matching her silver eyes, no longer the black void of Nyx’s gaze. Two horns curved out from her forehead and bent backwards, the opposite of Nyx’s horns, and (Y/N)’s faded from black to silver at the tips, matching the white underside of her hair. It was not merely her appearance that had changed but the very fabric of her being—(Y/N) was the moon itself.
            “I’m (Y/N).” She said it with more ease than she ever had in her life. She knew precisely who and what she was, and she was not apologetic about it.
            “(Y/N),” breathed Nanami, eyes widening.
            “They’re both alive,” said Itadori, heart pounding gratefully. “But she—” Ren “—said Fushiguro doesn’t have a heartbeat. How—?”
            “They’re curses.” Nanami understood. “They gave up their humanity.”
            Itadori’s eyes widened. “What? Why—How—”
            “Because they love each other.” And Nanami could not fault them for that. If two people had a love that could overcome the death of their own humanity, he could only honor that. Besides…one of them was his daughter. Nanami could find only relief and joy in his heart upon seeing (Y/N) alive and stronger than ever.
            “Nox is dead,” said Sukuna, looking at (Y/N). “I have no vow keeping me from attacking his daughter. Not that you’re the one he wanted, anyways.”
            “Nox doesn’t mean anything to me.” (Y/N) raised the katana and pointed it at Sukuna. “So attack me.”
            “You may be a curse, but don’t get cocky,” said Sukuna. “I’d hate for this to be a quick and boring fight.”
            “You stand under the light of my moon. Do not assume you’re the one with power here,” said (Y/N).
            “And she’s not alone,” said Megumi, stepping up beside (Y/N). He glanced at her and smiled. “The Night brings both light and shadow.” (Y/N) was the moon, the light. He was the shadows.
             Sukuna narrowed his eyes. Where had he heard that…
            “And we’re here!” said Itadori, jumping forward. (Y/N) and Megumi may be curses, but they were first and foremost his friends. “This fight isn’t over until you’re gone.”
            “Sorcerers and curses teaming up,” said Ren, raising a brow. “What strange times we live in.”
            “I doubt it will be enough,” said Uraume.
            “We’ll see,” said Ren.
            “Sukuna’s mine,” said (Y/N). It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Itadori opened his mouth to argue, shut it, and nodded.
            “I’m with you,” said Megumi. Forever.
            “The battle for the new era continues.” Sukuna grinned. “Let’s see who will be standing when dawn comes.”
            Everyone lunged for one another.
            Uraume summoned ice, blocking Itadori, Nanami, and Choso from moving. However, Choso was quick to summon an arrow of blood, and it shattered the ice. Itadori swiftly moved in and punched Uraume, sending the monk flying. They flipped to their feet and summoned more ice. The spikes cut Itadori’s arms, and Choso’s explosion of blood darts saved him from being sliced in half. Nanami jumped and grabbed Itadori, pulling him to safety and slicing down with his cleaver to protect Itadori. Uraume swept an arm through the air, freezing some of the blood Choso sent before it hit them. They took a few hits, cuts scattering their arms, but they just narrowed their eyes.
            “I am out of patience with you sorcerers, as I suspect Ren and Sukuna-sama are,” said Uraume. They raised their hands. “It’s time to properly end this. Domain Expansion.”
            A frost worthy of an ice age swept over the area surrounding Uraume, and Itadori’s eyes widened. The ice moved faster than he could see, stabbing everywhere. To his side, Nanami slammed his cleaver into the ground. The earth shook, and cracks opened up around Nanami to protect him as best he could. Itadori was quick to spring away, but even as Itadori dodged, he knew that the domain would catch him. He couldn’t—
            “I’m sorry, Itadori. I’m leaving you alone again.”
            Itadori sat at a long picnic table, looking at Choso.
            “Choso—” Itadori knew what was happening immediately. “Is that what you think? No. You stood by me at the hardest times. That’s enough.”
            Choso smiled. “Thank you, Yuuji, for being my little brother.”
            And when Itadori’s consciousness returned to the real world, he was standing before Choso. His body collapsed, punctured by various slabs of ice, a small domain made to protect his brother fading away with him.
            “Big brother…” Itadori spoke softly. “Thank you.”
            Itadori’s gaze rose to meet Uraume’s. Their domain hadn’t lasted for as long as they wanted, and now he was still standing. Itadori’s fists clenched, and he lunged. Uraume blocked with ice, but as Itadori punched it, a Black Flash destroyed it. Itadori was fighting for the lives of all those who had lost theirs. He wasn’t backing down.
            Behind him, Nanami clenched his cleaver and leapt forward with Itadori. Too many lives had been lost. He knew that (Y/N) and Megumi were facing Sukuna as he fought Uraume. He would protect their chances as best he could by fighting while he could still stand. Nanami shouldn’t be able to stand. But beneath the red light of the moon, he found his strength again. Perhaps it was just his spirit coming to life for the first time in years. Or perhaps it was the Moon guiding allies to strength—and, if he dared hope, to victory.
l
            Ren and Maki’s battle was a dance of instinct. Ren’s technique let her see each movement of Maki, each shift of her body and each muscle moving for an attack, and she would block and attack with just as much precision. Maki’s instincts and sense were just as keen, though. She didn’t need any cursed energy, and she and Ren were once again the best matches for one another. Each woman was a dancer, dodging and weaving and cutting and parrying with equal strength and power.
            “You lost your mask,” said Maki, narrowing her eyes as she flipped back to avoid a slash from Ren.
            “My vanity does not demand I wear it.” Ren could fight just as well without her mask. It was merely an accessory she preferred.
            She leapt after Maki, and the pair danced through the air in a flurry of glinting metal once more. Maki moved with speed, slicing and cutting, and as Ren parried, a cut got through. It nicked her skin, and Ren instantly shifted to the side to let the rest of the katana pass by her. She grabbed Maki’s arm, slashed down, and threw her. Maki pivoted and landed on her feet.
            “You should have watched where you dropped it,” said Maki, smirking.
            Ren narrowed her eyes, and her brain whirred to life. If someone could use an object of hers to harm her, then— “Ah.” Ren raised her hands. “I understand. Let’s see who’s faster. Domain Expansion: Gameboard.”
            “Resonance!”
            Ren gritted her teeth as nails slammed through her hands and arms, but her cursed energy didn’t deplete. It weakened slightly, but her domain still formed.
            “Good.” Ren gazed at the new arrival in the fight. “Another powerful woman. I was starting to get bored.”
            Kugisaki Nobara grinned. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t let the idiot guys I know have all the fun.”
            “They’ve been doing pretty well,” said Maki.
            Kugisaki scoffed. “They needed you, me, and (Y/N) to save their asses.” She looked at Ren. “So let’s send this old lady packing so we can get on with things.”
            Maki reached for her katana. Instantly, a stone lashed up from the ground, and she jumped back.
            “A game…” said Maki.
            “Precisely,” said Ren. “A battle of minds, of words.”
            “Of logic.” Maki had seen Yuuta fall. His emotions, his lack of logical objectivity, had defeated him.
            “Okay,” said Kugisaki. “I like a good argument. Let’s play.” She tilted her head, her covered eye looking even darker in the shadows. “And you have to have a weak point somewhere.”
            “Indeed?” Ren stood at her place on the board—the Queen. “Then let’s begin.”
            The battle of swords had become a battle of minds.
l
            Sukuna raised his hand to cleave (Y/N) as he lunged. Two attacks—physical and cursed technique—would hit her if he landed them, and it wasn’t like she could dodge the cursed technique. Shadows wrapped around his hand before he could create the hand-sign. The moving shadows morphed, and tendrils turning into the heads of wolves, sinking teeth into his arms and hands. Sukuna’s head snapped towards Megumi, who stood with hands raised. The shadows obeyed him unquestioningly.
            “You brat—” Megumi’s technique had been helpful for Sukuna because it had been the perfect technique to face Gojo Satoru with and free himself with, but when turned against him with the power of a curse if nature? Sukuna wrenched his arms free. “Dismantle.”
            Megumi’s body dissolved into shadow before he could finish speaking, and the dismantle broke the building behind him. It crumbled, sending up clouds of debris and a rain of rocks. (Y/N) appeared from within the cloud with katana drawn and slashed down. It hit Sukuna’s arm, and he narrowed his eyes. Cleave slashed across (Y/N), and she was thrown back as Sukuna let out a low hiss and looked at his cut. It began to heal, and he looked back at (Y/N) with a grin.
            “A curse and still trying to act human. I warned you once that it wouldn’t serve you. I won’t again,” said Sukuna.
            (Y/N) stood, and Sukuna watched as the cleaved wound across her chest stitched together. She blinked and looked at him.
            “I’m not human. I never was. And I’m not trying to be,” she said, words as plain as ever. She touched her chest where the cut should have been, and the cloth of her shirt wrapped together again. “I’m moving forward. You’re the one stuck in his own past. This isn’t your world.”
            “I much preferred Nyx’s politeness,” sneered Sukuna.
            Shadows erupted from the ground and slashed through Sukuna. He pulled back, but the shadows converged to create Megumi’s form, and he stabbed down with daggers made of shadow. The daggers fell away into shadowy snakes, slithering to Sukuna’s four arms and biting down. Sukuna tore them off, flames of cursed energy blazing around his fingertips to burn the shadows away with light.
            “For the record, I prefer you,” said Megumi to (Y/N).
            “I feel like I should say the same to you, but I have no other being to compare you to,” said (Y/N).
            Megumi smirked. “Better for me.” He looked at Sukuna. “Worse for him now that we’re together again.”
            “Properly. All our power. One heart. Knowledge of how old our souls are,” said (Y/N).
            “You’re two brats who will never understand the world you’ve stepped into,” said Sukuna, lunging.
            He grabbed (Y/N)’s katana as she blocked and cracked it. He grabbed her and threw her into a wall.
            “You think that being a curse guarantees you power? No. You have to fight for it, even as the daughter of the Night,” sneered Sukuna.
            “Lunar Cycle: Blue Moon.”
            A circle of silver light appeared around (Y/N), and a circle of black appeared around Sukuna’s feet. He was frozen in place, sinking into the darkness like a black hole. (Y/N)’s light faded to blue, and she flicked her wrists. Ice speared up into Sukuna’s sides before he was freed from the technique, and he wrenched himself off of the spears. No sooner did he do so, though, that a large, monstrous wolf made of shadows and silver bit into his shoulder. He ripped the shadows apart with his four arms, growling as the poison of shadows coursed through him as he healed himself from the snake bites.
            “Nox is no father of mine,” said (Y/N). “I am the Moon. I am my own being. And I have power that I gained all on my own.” She had new techniques, too—the depth and breadth of her power and abilities as (Y/N), the Halfing, the Spirit of the Moon finally coming to life.
            She lunged, and Sukuna jumped back at her. Two of his fists rammed down at her, and half-moon fans appeared in (Y/N)’s hands. She used his fists—so much bigger than her—as a board to flip up over him. Megumi caught his bottom two hands in shadow, straining against his considerable strength with the newfound power of a curse. As (Y/N) flipped over him, she raked her two war fans down, and more of Sukuna’s blood splattered through the air. Instantly, he roared to life, ripped away from the shadows, and made his hand-sign. (Y/N) furrowed her brow, and dismantle caught (Y/N). She was thrown to the ground, her own blood staining the ground—purple, no remnant of human red.
            “(Y/N),” said Megumi, moving to her side.
            “Interesting. “(Y/N) let her cuts heal, and she stood with Megumi supporting her. “He did what I knew he would.”
            Sukuna was already lunging as Megumi furrowed his brow. He was dispatched for a moment with cleave, and Sukuna attacked (Y/N). She blocked him with her fans, and they reformed into daggers so she could stab down. Sukuna grabbed her with his other arms and slammed her into a building. Glass shattered and rained down on her, but (Y/N) flipped and deflected each other. The entire world was bathed in red moonlight, and the entire world was clear before her eyes. She could see clearly—just as she had in battles before, though rarely. Now (Y/N) was completely herself and could be herself. So when Sukuna’s Dismantle cut through the building, she could see the slivers of cursed energy slicing through the air. She saw his movements before he even made the hand-sign.
            (Y/N) knew what Sukuna was going to do before he did it, and that meant she could protect herself. Her bright silver eyes landed one each cut of cursed energy, and her fans reformed. Dancing back, her hair flying, the scarves around her waist waving like moonbeams, the silver of her horns flashing in the red moonlight, (Y/N) blocked Dismantle without even looking. Even as another Cleave hit the building, (Y/N) knew what parts were going to fall where, and she jumped up between floors, leaping through the air like a true spirit in the night sky, and she landed completely unharmed. Not a single drop of cursed energy had been wasted on reverse cursed technique. (Y/N) had simply seen everything she had needed to.
            Megumi’s eyes widened in relief, his own wounds healing, and Sukuna narrowed his eyes. (Y/N) didn’t bother giving him time to react and attacked. He blocked the swing of her leg, and she flipped midair to kick down again. The moment he blocked both, though, two boomerangs completed their arc and slashed into his back with their ridges. The jolt let (Y/N) jumped back, and Sukuna glared.
            “I am the Moon,” said (Y/N). “My technique is called Lunar Cycle.” The silver curse marks brightened in response to her words.
            Megumi smiled slightly, and Sukuna raised a hand to use Cleave and then lunge himself. If she was explaining her cursed technique, then she was willingly taking on the risk of him understanding it to extend her power. He wanted to keep her as weak as possible. Nox and Nyx had both had considerable power in their own way, but they had been old curses. Sukuna despised such a young upstart thinking herself equal to him.
            Megumi’s shadows surged up and collapsed on Sukuna like a wave. He was able to fight through them and heal the tiny cuts they created as quickly as they came, but (Y/N) lunged through the darkness—Megumi’s shadows could never hurt her, after all—and slashed with her katana.
            “I can summon various weapons depending on which phase of the moon I call forward. My weaknesses are it takes time to summon them, and if destroyed, they take time to reform,” said (Y/N). Her cursed energy surged to life. “Lunar Cycle: Full Moon.”
            Flames that were ice-cold but bright silver broke apart Megumi’s shadows as she stabbed down at Sukuna.
            “And,” said (Y/N). Her marks glowed brighter. Her cursed energy was alive within her. Before, she had only had those few sentences for her technique. But now she had one more. “I can see your actions in battle before you take them.”
            Sukuna’s eyes widened. She didn’t have Foresight in its truest form—(Y/N) would never predict the future—but she could see a fight perfectly, down to her opponent’s movements. The phases of the moon and the phases of battle were one in her mind and her sight.
            (Y/N)’s katana, ablaze with moonlight, struck Sukuna’s chest. He stumbled back and grabbed for the katana. Instantly, shadows converged, and Megumi appeared beside (Y/N). He grabbed the hilt of her katana with her and shoved down. A giant Black Flash made of the combined power of the curse of Shadows and the curse of the Moon exploded outwards. The force sent (Y/N) and Megumi jumped backwards to land on their feet, and Sukuna stumbled back. He raised his hands, and (Y/N) did at the same moment, each with their hands poised for…
            “You know what I’m going to do,” said Sukuna. “And yet that won’t help you here. Only strength will.”
            “A battle of domains,” said Megumi, narrowing his eyes.
            “And I am the strongest,” said Sukuna.
            Megumi’s gaze hardened, and he glanced at (Y/N). Sukuna had killed Gojo. His domain was incredibly powerful. (Y/N) could only see the moves he was going to make—not an outcome as far out as two domains clashing.
            (Y/N) smiled, the expression chilling on her face. “Sukuna, you’re not the strongest.” The smile widened into a wild grin. “I am.”
            “Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”
            “Domain Expansion: Solar Eclipse.”
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@snowy-violet
@tsukikoxo
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danika-redgrave124 · 4 months ago
Text
Winx Yuu's Transformations 1
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Basic Transformation
When Yuu transforms, they reaches up towards the sky, and the stars seem to respond, showering them in stardust. Their wings unfurl on a burst of celestial light, and their outfit materializes from the shifting patterns of the night sky. Finally, they draws in a deep breath, and the constellations on their wings, their outfit glows brightly, competing their Transformation with a serene, yet powerful pose.
Special Transformations
Lunar Eclipse Form
Trigger: During a lunar eclipse or when Yuu needs a significant boost in power.
Sequence: As the moon darkens, Yuu raises their hands, and the eclipse causes an intense shimmering eclipse aura to surround them. Their wings expand, taking on a darker, more dramatic appearance with intricate patterns resembling eclipse shadows.
Appearance: Their outfit transforms into a more elaborate gown with deep blue and black hues, resembling the night sky during an eclipse. The gown is adorned with crescent moon and eclipse motifs. Their wings become more intricate, with shadowy, crescent-shaped patterns and a luminous edge.
Yuu is still training with this form and uses it during her mediation and moon bathing.
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Stellar Aurora Form
Trigger: When Yuu taps into the full power of their celestial magic, often during important battles or moments of high emotions.
Sequence: Yuu holds their arms out, and a brilliant Aurora borealis effect envelops them, shifting colors from green to purple to pink. The Aurora flows around them, creating a mesmerizing and vibrant display as their transformation completes.
Appearance: Their outfit becomes a dazzling array of shifting colors and light patterns, mirroring the Auroras in the sky. Their wings sparkle with dynamic, multicolored constellations that seems to move and shift. The effect creates a radiant aura around them, enhancing their presence.
Yuu awoken this form during Jamil's Overblot, but it was weaken due to the rigorous activities and being in the desert with bright sunlight. They got better at training with it, more so used it as a way to comfort their friends during Overblot battles.
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Dreamweaver Form
Trigger: When Yuu enters the dream realm or needs to use their dream-based powers.
Sequence: Yuu closes their eyes and a soft, dreamy most surrounds them. As they open their eyes, the mist forms into their Transformation, with dream-like imagery and soft pastel colors.
Appearance: Their dress turns into a flowing gown made of soft, pastel shades with dream-like patterns and ethereal light. Their wings resemble delicate, translucent dream catchers, adorned with soft glows and wispy, shimmering trails. This form enhances their dreamwalking abilities and provides a soothing, calming aura.
This form was mainly used for Yuu's crafting dreamcatchers. This form becomes more prominent during Malleus's Overblot and when they and the rest need to dreamwalk to the next person's dream.
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@alexglitches I'm working on Yuu's other Transformations like Charmix and the others, but figured Astral Dream Fairy Yuu would have a basic transformation and special Transformations.
@twisted-dreamscape
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