#holed up in my room and filled with anxiety for no reason
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dragon-pawz · 2 years ago
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Feeling slightly deranged. This brush really adds a certain something to this lol
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under-cotton-and-calicos · 1 year ago
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Take Me Back To Eden
Multiple Ghosts x AFAB Reader
AN: It’s been a long while. I’ve been busy [insert unhinged ao3 author life update here]. This has been sitting in my drafts for the LONGEST time jeez. Wasn’t really satisfied with any of the directions it took so I finally sat down and committed to something. May or may not have a sequel. I recommend listening to “Descending” by Sleep Token while you read this. As the title implies, I’m kinda obsessed with the band right now. Enjoy!
tags: cult sex, orgy, heavy dubcon, ghosts, ancient deity, mind manipulation, oral sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, WEIRD CUM
Word count: 3.9k
With a pathetic sputter, the incessant humming of your old corolla’s engine gives way to silence. For a few moments, you sit in the dark and quiet, a mixture of excitement and anxiety raising goosebumps on your skin. You’ve done this hundreds of times, you’re sure that today you’re going to get your big hit. It has to be.
You slam your car door shut and take a deep breath, a gym bag filled with equipment and cameras slung over one shoulder, your free hand guiding the beam of your heavy duty torch across the entrance of the abandoned bar. The old, faded sign perched above its entrance is unreadable, faintly you can make out traces of looping letters. Its battered and dusty exterior belies the rumours you’ve heard about the place.
You were supposed to come with your posse, but every single one of them had work or family issues that cropped up at the last minute. Not one to be deterred by fear, you ended up making the drive down alone. In spite of the cool night, your skin is warm with anticipation as you cross the threshold and slip into the bar.
Not much is known about its origins or history- it’s a small, rundown lot in a slow and quiet part of town, so no one has ever paid it much attention. It had been a hole-in-the-wall style pub that attracted a small and dedicated group of patrons before mysteriously closing abruptly. Hours of digging through the net gave you enough reason to suspect that there was an abnormal cause behind why it still hadn’t been bought out for decades, though. The reports of ghostly apparitions in the crevices of obscure forums led you down a rabbit hole. Soon enough, you managed to find a video posted online, taken by some teenagers roped in by a bet. You studied it for hours, pausing at every frame.
You can still remember the sweet thrill, the goosebumps that formed on your skin when you noticed the wispy, grey figures hidden behind corners in several frames. Jackpot. 
Your friends had told you that they were edited but your gut told you otherwise. There was a genuine fear in those kids’ eyes, you bet on it.
As you manoeuvre through old tables and chairs, you notice that the furniture is still well kept, barring the fact that everything is covered in layers of dust.The retro style bar, stools and shelves are all in good condition, though lacking bottles of booze and the typical drink making paraphernalia. Maybe someone still cares for the place? 
You notice a few doors that hadn’t been explored in the video, so you try each handle, one of them leading to an empty storage room, another leading to a kitchen behind the bar, the next to a decrepit restroom. Curiously, there’s a long stairway behind a stuffy curtain going down to what you presume is a basement door. There’s an inlaid symbol on the door, made from burnished golden metal, its fine quality at odds with everything else in the bar. You’ve never seen anything like it before- the silhouette of a tree firmly rooted to the earth, its branches and roots reminiscent of…horns?
There’s something compelling about it. Your stomach dips at the thought of you opening the door, but you want to. There’s something on the other side of it.
When you yank on the handle, it doesn’t budge, breaking you out of your momentary stupor. You shake your head and blink. 
Caught up in the moment?
“Damn.” You sigh. Typically, you would leave lockpicking to another one of your friends. There isn’t much you can do about it, so you decide to set up a few thermal cameras overlooking the tables and bar, as well as an REM pod for proximity detection on the countertop.
Kneeling behind the countertop, you turn on your spirit box, its harsh white noise filling the quiet. Through the static, you call into the night.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
There’s no response, but you introduce yourself and continue. You’re well accustomed to this pattern already, after years of this. The hauling of equipment, meticulously setting everything up, dicking around for a few hours and then packing up and heading home. Keep the time spent idle low, and expectations even lower. Perhaps it’s because you’re alone tonight. There’s a charge in the atmosphere, a certain secrecy and wonder to the ritual.
“I'd really like it if you told me your name.”
“Like.” The artificial, crackly word emerges from the static.
“Yes, I’d like it if you introduced yourself too.” You wait a few more moments before the next word. For a while, monosyllabic words are all you receive. So you dig and prompt until you tag onto something.
“More.”
“More?”
“M…More tha-an.” 
“There’s more than one of you?” You say, peering around the empty bar. There’s no sign of the specters from the video, only swirling mites of dust suspended in the air under the glow of your torchlight. “Where are you?”
“H-Here.”
Suddenly, your REM pod flashes green, red, blue against the shadows, signalling that something is close by, very close by. But instead of its typical bleeping, a warbled wail echoes through the empty bar, causing you to flinch from how loud it is. The fuck?
You turn around and direct your torch towards the pod. Your heart falters.
A crowd of grey specters are standing behind the counter, their forms towering over where you’re kneeled on the ground. Their bodies are featureless, rippling as though they could blink out of existence at any moment, at odds with the physical realm. For a second, you can’t bring yourself to do anything. You feel dread, you're stunned, but underneath it all, the irrational, ghost hunting geek in you is baffled. Holy shit, holy shit.
You jump to your feet, backed against the shelves. Their heads tilt upwards, following your movement. And then you’re fleeing, terror driving you to run from the very situation that you’ve been chasing down for years.
The moment you’re behind the steering wheel, you step on the gas, your corolla protesting as it's jolted out of its sleep and forced to shoot down the empty street. You don’t stop to turn and look.
“Wait.” A real voice overlaps with the one coming from your spirit box still clutched in your sweaty palm, but you don’t stop, turning the corner around the countertop and passing through an ethereal, translucent arm reaching out to stop you. You burst out of the bar into the cooler night air and shakily jam your key into your car, cursing as you struggle to get the door open.
Holy shit, you chant over and over again, they’re real, they’re real!
⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩
Your alarm wakes you from a restless slumber, one of many in the past few months. With a groan, you fumble for your phone with your eyes still closed and turn it off. 
“Fuck…” You curse at the soreness in your back and slick between your legs. It happened again last night.
Tugging your underwear down, you stare at the sticky mess you’d created in your sleep. Glimpses of your dream, or nightmare, flash through your head, sending a quiver down your spine. Your breath hitches at the thought, you palm your stiff nipples through your ratty old shirt and begin fingering your cunt, warm and dripping wet. 
You’ve been tormented by a string of dreams lately, each one leaving you aching in the morning. So much so that you have had to incorporate masturbation into your morning routine. It’s never satisfying though, your fingers and toys don’t come even close to what you experience in the nasty recesses of the dreamscape hidden in your mind. All of them are vivid and realistic, but when you wake, you can only recall little snatches- greedy hands taking their fill of your body and being bent over, being filled…being defiled.
And with your equipment left at the bar, what can you do? There is no evidence of your findings. You can’t tell your friends that you’ve been having wet dreams almost incessantly since that night alone in the bar. You would seem like a lunatic.
But it wouldn’t be wrong to call this a kind of madness. Frantic and possessive. Bodies cast in vibrant colour, shadowed and swaying against you. Cast in the black behind your eyelids is a gold insignia, beckoning you closer and closer.
With a whimper, you cum, body folding over and shaking as you ride out your climax. Temporarily satiated, you slump back into your pillows dramatically, staring at your ceiling. Something from that bar had followed you home. And you want to go back.
⋆。°✩⋆。°✩⋆。°✩
The empty district is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. It’s a cold night, and you tug your sweater around your shoulders as you lean back in your car seat. It’s undeniable that you’re a little scared- you feel like one of those idiot teenagers in horror movies that get themselves killed for wandering recklessly into danger. Again, something tells you that it’s different. Or maybe you’re just horny.
With your torch in one hand and your phone in the other, you enter the bar. All of your equipment is just as you left it. You trace your finger over the REM pod on the countertop, dusty but intact. It’s…quiet.
What did you expect? To get jumped the moment you came in? There’s no sign of the specters as well. You’re a bit disappointed, because it means that those dreams you’ve been having might not have been supernatural at all, and worse, the specters might have been a figment of your imagination.
Just as you resolve to pack up your things and leave, a sliver of light catches your eye, cast against the dark floor. Purple light streams between the curtains that lead to the locked basement. Your heart begins to pick up pace again, and you rush over, brushing aside the thick, heavy fabric to see the stairway down illuminated. The door is open!
“H-Hello?” You call out, flicking your torchlight off and leaning it against a step. With hesitant steps, you descend, eyes adjusting to the dim artificial light. You know this atmosphere, this tension in the air from the distinctive purple haze of your dreams. Almost instinctively, your core warms and you can feel yourself shiver, a conditioned response.
 When you reach the base of the stairs, your breath stalls in your throat and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. The same apparitions that have been haunting your dreams are there, facing you, as if waiting for your inevitable return. Your nervous eyes scan the rest of the room, it looks like you’ve stepped into another realm entirely- gone are the cheap and neon plastics of the bar, there’s a pool of fabrics and pillows, and an altar, carved from stone with tall pillars of candles by its sides.
Dazed, you don’t realise that you’ve been walking until you’re a few feet in front of the specters, their heads following you uncannily. 
“I-I…” You sputter, jittery under their heavy, obscured gaze. They haven’t even done anything to you yet, but your head is all cotton and gauze. Slowly, you sink to your knees.
“My dreams. I’ve seen you there.” You say, awe-struck. A delicate voice replies, soft as a gossamer sheet.
“I am glad that you’ve returned.” It confuses you. You’re not sure if the voice is coming from one of the specters before you or if it’s echoing through your head, like you’re on a phone call with someone in the same room as you. Up close, their forms are ethereal, shimmering and tinted purple from the lights, shifting ever-so-slightly.
You can still make out the shape of a mouth and a nose on their faces, as well as outlines of their limbs and hands. One reaches out to you, fitting the curve of your cheek in the palm of their hand- your eyes widen at the touch, it feels real, cold but solid against you.
“Good one…pretty one…” They close around you, clamouring to touch you. A hand combs through your hair, traces the curve of your ear, another slides past the collar of your shirt to the dip between your shoulder blades, and one presses its fingers against your lips.
Strange, you think, opening your mouth obediently for the cold fingers to savour the wet warmth of your tongue. Every cell in your body is alight, bristling with energy and ready to burst at the seams. This is what you’ve been wanting for so, so long. 
How could I have been terrified of them before this?
“More, more.” Not enough of you is exposed it seems. You shed your sweater, your hard nipples visible through thin fabric. The atmosphere bristles a bit, you think, as you finally discard your shirt, your breasts and inviting skin on display for them to grab at, their touch growing more hungry.
They whisper, trailing lower and lower. You close your eyes for just a moment, the jostling bodies around you giving way to darkness as you relish in the feeling of hands that grope your chest, firm nipples being pinched and tugged at, your bare body slowly becoming accustomed to their supernatural chill. Something bumps against your lips and you smile, opening your eyes once again to bat your eyelashes up at the specter that has its stiff cock in hand, unabashedly asking for entry.
You open wide, sticking your tongue out for the specter to slide its head against you. You think you hear a whimper, and you’re pleased to feel it twitching as you close your mouth around it, humming as you bob your head and take more of its length down your throat. It’s solid, hard like a human’s, and you can feel the bump of veins trailing down its shaft. Behind you, one kneels down and presses its torso up against your back, a hand cupping your soaking sex and another kneading your breast. 
“Here…!” Two more specters hovering over you tug at your arms impatiently, wrapping your hands around their own dicks. Obliging their requests, you stroke them lazily, eyes flitting between all of the spirits that surround you. The ones that are not latched to your body stand a short distance away, fisting themselves, undoubtedly staring at you get busy. Underneath their innumerable gaze, you’re exhilarated, and a thought flits through your mind- they’ll all have a chance to run you through later, and you’ll be able to experience it all in reality. 
The specter shoves two fingers into your needy hole, grinding them against your sweet spot. You falter, but the specter that’s in your mouth clamps its hands around your head, sinking so deep that your face is flush with their crotch. The two rut into your tightened grip, gasping and groaning fills your head.
“So good…so good…Ah!” 
When a finger flicks at your clit, you cum hard, body arching and thighs quaking. You’re stunned momentarily, and you swallow back the spit pooling in your throat, squeezing around the specter. Suddenly, its grip in your hair grows stronger, bordering on pain as it cums too, cold, thick liquid shooting into the back of your throat and covering your tongue. It tastes like nothing, you note, gasping for air when it detaches from you and releases its grip on your head.
What catches you off guard is the colour of its seed, a thick white substance that drips down your chin onto the floor between your legs, giving off an otherworldly glow. Immediately, another takes its place- the one on the right that had you fisting its cock guides it into your mouth and plugs you up again. This one is less patient, it holds you in place and fucks into your mouth. They use you like a sex toy, taking turns occupying your hands and mouth, grabbing at your chest and fingering your cunt. Any hesitation or endearing nervousness that occupied the specters has disappeared, and you’re elated. You lose count of how many have cum on you, they spill on your face, your chest, covering you in their ungodly semen. It becomes a dizzying cycle, and between your climaxes and theirs’, you lavish them with all that you can give, just as you did in your dreams. What you can take down your throat, you do gladly, an appreciative hum is your reward when you obediently swallow and accept the spurts of cum onto your body.
Suddenly, after a specter smears its cum across your tits, you’re pulled to your feet. Shaky and tired legs unable to support your body, you’re carried over to the altar that you saw earlier and laid upon it. It’s the perfect height, and you groan as a specter grinds its cock against your wet folds. Your legs are spread wide apart, and the empty spaces around you are quickly taken by eager spirits. They pause though, and seem to wait for something patiently. A name is called, something unintelligible, not in the human tongue, not anything you’ve heard before.
They say something in an alien tongue, and look upwards to the ceiling. There is something you didn’t notice before, the same sigil as the one on the door is painted there. In a split second, a collage of memories are made clear in your mind’s eye- you see offerings of wine and food, people kneeling before hulking statues and trees, orgies in secluded areas where hedonism flourishes, lush with the scent of sex and flowers.
The specter between your legs breaks you out of your reverie, and you’re suddenly in the basement once again, fully aware of your dripping cunt, the need. There’s an energy in the room that wasn’t there previously, charged and crackling. You groan when it fits its bulbous head against your entrance, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as it enters you. And finally, finally you are one with them. You stare entranced at where you are joined, its thick, translucent cock stretching your starved cunt.
“Fuck me, please.” You rasp, throwing your head back when it begins to thrust into you, setting a brutal pace. Again, the specters crowd around you and put you to work. Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the wave of pleasure, the friction of the heavy cock in your pussy, the numerous hands that guide you and delight in the touch of your skin.
“You…you…” The voice bristles in your head, and there it is again- snatches of that scene and the voice, it’s getting stronger. You can barely focus, between the ghostly bodies all around you and the thread of a connection to It. They’re both equally addictive- the delicious stretch and fill, the wandering hands all over your overstimulated body, and the irresistible draw to something powerful and primordial. Closer, closer, closer.
The specter fucking into you quivers, its pace quickening and its thrusts growing shallower. It’s about to cum inside you, and you wrap your legs around its translucent torso to force it even deeper inside. In response, its hands grab your hips with so much force that you’re sure they’re going to bruise.
“Perfect.” The word is whispered into the shell of your ear, low but with the power of a command. Instantly, you feel like euphoria has flooded your body, too much of it. Every sensation is painfully amplified, the bliss of each thrust between your legs rapturous and overwhelming. You cum, and the specter does too, you can feel its cold seed like ice in your hot, hot cunt, flooding you, seeping into your being. Every cell in your body is screeching from pleasure so high that it hurts. 
“Oh. Too much?” 
There’s tears streaming down your cheeks. Your thoughts are melting together and no words form on your tongue, all you can manage is a pathetic nod as your body seizes in agony and orgasmic bliss.
“Apologies, it’s been a while.” It says, and just as quick as it compelled you, the euphoria is sapped from your body. The relief is another form of pleasure, and as you relax, you feel a gush of liquid seep past where you’re joined to the specter- you’re squirting, a puddle of it forming on the altar and dripping onto the floor. 
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” It whispers again, cool and calm as you gasp for breath. “I like it.”
“What…what-” You’re cut off by the specter dragging its cock out of you, leaving you gaping for the next one in line. You let out a high-pitched whine as the mix of semen and your slick spills out of you. As though to comfort you, one specter cradles your cheek and promptly nudges its dick past your lips. They seem to be oblivious to the conversation going on, or they carry on in spite of it.
“Don’t think. Just let go.” Another cock is thrust into you, barely giving you any reprieve as it pounds into you, intent on getting you filled again.
What are you?
“A vague question gets you a vague answer.” It tuts, “I am the bliss that found its way into your dreams, the cruelty that left you wanting more, and the hunger that brought you back here to me.”
Hands reach out to pinch and twist your nipples and clit, forcing you to let out a muffled yelp.
“It hardly seems fair for you to pay little attention to those who have been fucking you so vigorously. Well, given that you can’t form a coherent thought, the ones that have you speared on their cocks are my most devoted followers. They have been so gracious as to offer their spirits for my perusal.”
And now you understand- it’s a god, an ancient deity on the ceiling looking down upon you, casting its impartial and frigid gaze on this debauchery, orchestrated for its sake.
“And you, my little pleasure, are the first taste of life I’ve had down here in a long time.” Its tone has a vicious bite, excitement palpable. At that, the specters, or puppets in you cum, the elation of their master influencing their own pleasure, no doubt. You choke around the cock forced down your throat, cutting off your breathing until it pulls free from you and you choke down air and seed.
You’re so replete, so tired, you’re not sure whether you can take anymore-
“You will.” 
Warily, you sweep your gaze across the hoard of hungry spirits hunched over you.
“After all, isn’t this what you wanted?”
Throughout the night, you’re used over and over, your poor cunt fucked and filled more times than you can count. Just as you think it may end, another specter is between your legs, alternating between lapping up the mess between your legs and pumping its seed into you again. All while some ancient and cruel god speaks to you. With each climax, you feel your consciousness slipping further away, the teasing and praise of the voice in your ear growing ever more distant…
When you wake, you’re exhausted. The specters had disappeared, leaving you on the altar. Despite the throbbing in your core and muscles, you manage to pull your clothes back on and make your way up the stairs, the unpleasant stickiness of your skin urging you to get home as soon as possible so you can take a shower.
A draft sends a chill down your spine, a whisper like a caress brushes past you.
I’ll see you soon, little pleasure.
You’re relieved to see your corolla on the streetside, and as you limp to your car you make a mental note to pack up your equipment the next time you’re here.
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ash5monster01 · 3 months ago
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Hi, can I request cuddling and falling asleep with Randall pink Floyd?❤️🖤
Only Comfort
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Pairing: Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, insomnia, anxiety, mentions of drugs/alcohol, friends to lovers
Summary: It’s not unknown to your friends that you struggle to sleep, insomnia being your biggest curse and the number one reason you’re the most fun to party with. Yet one night spent with Pink you discover he just might be the key to getting some rest.
word count: 1.9k
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You couldn’t believe it. It was your senior year, a Friday night, but suddenly all your friends were too tired to party. As much as you understood where they were coming from, how you all had been doing the same thing every weekend, a part of you still wished they’d agree to go out. Mainly because it was the only time your nights weren’t so lonely. Sleep never coming to you in the late hours and emptiness filling the void. Weekends with nights that never ended was where you thrived so the idea of a Friday night spent home alone was the worst form of torture to you. A nightmare to be exact.
Pink doesn’t miss the panic on your face, how an anxious hand reaches to pick at the rips in your jeans. You’re uneasy all because no one felt like hanging out tonight. He knew you struggled with sleep, pretty much everyone did, considering that even when they got tired you were still ready to go. He just didn’t know it bothered you so much, made you this nervous to not be surrounded by a little life. So he jumps to attention before you spiral too hard.
“I’ll hang out with you, we can let these guys get their beauty sleep” Pink says, hand clasping over your shoulder and he can feel how you immediately relax at his recovery. You offer him a thankful smile and Pink decides it’s worth it to lose a little more sleep.
That’s how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Pinks El Camino after football practice. His hair was still damp from the locker room shower but he looked so soft in this light. The sun setting and caressing his golden skin. It was no surprise all the girls fell for a boy like Pink. Kind, handsome, charming, he checked all the boxes. Thing was, with everyone taking a break from partying, not a single soul was out tonight. Not even Wooderson had made an appearance and it almost made you double check if it was a full moon. The entire earth off its axis, something had to be explanatory for the quiet weekend.
“We can just go to my place and watch a movie?” Pink offers as you pass the Emporium for a third time just to see there was still only two cars in the parking lot.
“You sure?” you question, not wanting to feel like you’re overstepping but Pink just flashes a smile, chuckling lightly.
“Yeah, why not. Apparently we don’t have anything better to do” he says and you can’t help the wide smile that crosses your face as he pulls into the Top Notch for supplies.
You make it back to Pinks house in no time, juggling some milkshakes, fries, onion rings, and whatever other grease filled food you could get your hands on. It wasn’t your first time at Pinks before, having done the long trek up to the attic space that had become his own. The room is in a slight disarray but you don’t mind as you move to set the food on the small trunk used as a coffee table in front of his couch. There was something homey about it, how everything here had been passed down and worn in. Patches covering old holes in the couch and blankets tucked around cushions Slater had accidentally burned. His bed covered in a homemade quilt and mismatching pillows. It was Pink, in the simplest terms, and no other way to describe it.
“Any particular movie in mind?” he asks, clicking on the small television set, an old T-shirt hanging off the side. You smile around a bite of french fry as you slip off your shoes and begin to settle in.
“Not at all, something good” you tell him and he laughs before grabbing a VHS of American Graffiti and popping it into the TV. It’s not long until the boy has joined your side, the couch dipping you into him with the added weight. You accept it and settle in as the tape begins to play.
In no time, majority of the food has disappeared, and you’ve both been sucked into the movie. You lasted only ten minutes before wrapping a blanket around your form and maybe thirty before you rested your head against Pinks shoulder. He doesn’t mind, actually quite content with the situation he’s found himself in. He doesn’t question any of it but after the better part of an hour you’ve rolled against him, arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him tight, which makes him freeze. Dropping his eye-line he spots your closed eyelids, the soft breaths falling softly out in an even pace. You’re asleep and the idea makes him freeze because you never sleep. Not once in front of him at least, and he’s spent over 48 hours with you before.
The movie had been over for twenty minutes but Pink doesn’t dare move a muscle, knowing how much you need this, even if you hadn’t meant to curl against him. So slowly and carefully he begins to adjust you both on the couch. Turning to lay back against the cushions and lower you down with his chest. Once you’re tucked safely between him and the back of the couch, he pulls the blanket over you both, the wrapping his arms around your form and getting comfortable against your side. Allowing sleep to overcome him as well.
When you wake the next morning you’re more than confused, having not remembered falling asleep last night. It had been a long time since you felt so rested, so blissful, and so delirious. The room you open your eyes to is not your own, and the pillow beneath you is not a pillow but instead rises and falls with a breath. Eyes darting upward you find Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd evenly breathing and dreaming away, soft golden sunlight framing his face that peaks through the sides of his mismatch curtains. It’s then you feel the firm grip he has around you and realize your own. You must’ve fallen asleep during the movie but what was more unsettling about the predicament you were in, was how easily you had.
Breaking your thoughts, Pink lets out a soft groan, shifting in his sleep and rolling into you. You freeze as he snuggles closer, knee nudging between your own and tangling you whole. It’s then you realize you had only fallen asleep due to how comfortable you had been. Pink and this room had offered you something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The idea nearly brings tears to your eyes because he made you feel safe. Safe enough to fall asleep here and feel protected. He allowed you to get some real rest that you desperately needed, wanted more than anything. As you look at the long lashes that graze his cheekbones and his soft pink lips, your heart swoons. Pink was worshipped by every girl but in this moment you swear you love him. So you hug him close before kissing his cheek, soft yet firm.
When he doesn’t wake you kiss his other cheek before peppering him in kisses anywhere you can. Forehead, eye lids, chin, nose, and when your lips finally grace the corner of his own his eyes slowly flutter open. You watch as he processes the sight in front of him, you in his arms, and kissing his face. A dramatic turn around from the friendly and teasing relationship you had shared before this. “Hi”
“Morning Pink” you reply, hoping he doesn’t move from his hold on you. If you could stay like this forever now you would, sleeping right here peacefully in his arms.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, a small crease forming between his brows as he realizes he has no idea why you’d be kissing him the way you were.
“Yeah, I just wanted to say thank you” you say, throat already tightening as you use your hand to push some hair away from his face. That way he was easier to see.
“Thank you for what?” he questions, trying not to shiver from your touch. Mind reeling in how soft and warm you were against him. How beautiful you looked in the morning.
“I haven’t slept through a whole night in a very long time. It’s the one thing in life that makes me the most uneasy. So thank you for making me feel comfortable enough to finally sleep” tears fill your eyes and Pink notices, one slipping out and over the bridge of your nose due to your shared horizontal position. Quickly he reaches to brush them away before hugging you close.
“Of course, yes of course. Anytime” he mutters into your hair and you smile through your tears, feeling so much adoration and love for the boy beside you.
“I can leave though, I understand that I’ve probably overstayed my welcome” you say, beginning to lift yourself from between him and the couch but his hold tightens on you. Dragging you down and close.
“You have not overstayed, in fact you can’t leave until you tell me what all that kissing was about” he states and you blush cherry red, having realized that your joy for him had prompted some spontaneous action.
“I was just excited that I slept through a whole night. It was a thank you” you answer, unable to look him in the eye and he snorts.
“Really, that’s it?” and you groan, the blush darkening as you drop your head to his chest.
“Fine, I may or may not have been a little charmed by you. Couldn’t help myself” you offer and Pink chuckles, hand tucking under you to lift your chin. You allow him to pull your gaze back into his eye-line.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to a few more thank you’s” he whispers, lips close to your own and you gulp nervously. Feeling that magnetic pull and the thrumming of your heart that beat just for him in this moment.
When you’re sure you’ll combust you finally press your lips against his own, hands tangling in the chocolate strands of his signature hair, holding him close. Pink kisses back just as eagerly, unknowingly nudging his knee up more between your legs. His kiss is everything you imagined and when his tongue grazed along the seam of your lips you allow him entrance. Whining softly at the taste of him and how his tongue meets your own. He kisses you hungrily, desperately, wanting nothing more than to keep kissing you. In this moment you wish to keep him, not just for the comfort of sleep but for everything in between and after. You never want to stop thanking him.
“How was that for thank you?” you ask when you pull away for air and his grins, lips swollen and red from your own. He’s even prettier than before and when he tucks your hair behind your ear you know he’s meant to be yours.
“I don’t know, maybe we should try again” and you snort in laughter, hitting his chest lightly, but he draws you near again. When his lips brush against your own you stop fighting him and allow him back into a kiss.
Perfectly content with kissing him all day and sleeping in his arms all night.
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somber-sapphic · 1 year ago
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Snowy Night
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〖Notes: I've been up for too long, I know my formatting is bad, I'll do it in the morning <;3〗
〖Summary: You and Wanda end up stuck in a hotel after a mission.〗
〖Word Count: 1133〗
〖Pairing: Wanda x Sick Reader〗
☾Masterlists☽
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Hanging in there?” Wanda asked gently, looking at you in the passenger's seat. You didn’t lift your head from the glass, relishing the reprieve from the fever-fueled heat ravaging your body. 
“I’m fine baby, just a little sore from the mission.” That was a reasonable excuse, you’d gotten pretty beat up and tomorrow you were sure to see a tapestry of bruises adorning your skin. 
Wanda had received a small cut above her forehead and roughly the same bruises that you did. She’d still volunteered to take the first driving shift as it was obvious that you were in rough shape. 
You’d done a pretty good job at hiding the illness before the mission, but now that it was over you were too tired to wear the appropriate mask. 
“Are you sure that's all it is? You’re fogging up the window over there.” She teased, tossing you a worried smile. You shrugged in response, your throat hurt too much for more talking. 
“How about I find a hotel for tonight?” The witch reached over and rested a hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently in reassurance. She only wanted to help, but you were refusing to let her. 
“We can’t Wan, we might be followed.” You knew that your words weren’t quite making enough sense, but she got the gist of what you meant. 
“We weren’t followed, you know that. You keep checking and there isn’t anything suspicious, right?” You turned from your comfortable spot on the window and raised an eyebrow, glaring at her a little. 
“That’s what I thought. Take a nap sweet girl, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” She said softly, her words lacking the frustration you expected. Tears welled up in your eyes and you dropped your head loudly against the window, relishing the pain it provided. Controlling your pain was good. 
“I know Y/n, but I need you not to do that. We’re going to get you in bed soon.” You didn’t want a hotel, you wanted your bed. You wanted your blanket and your pillows and the stuffed cat that you hid from everyone except Wanda. 
It was the only thing you had left from your childhood. It had helped you through an unnecessary amount of trauma and you refused to get rid of it no matter what happened. You’d had to sew up a few holes and the thing was faded beyond repair, but it was yours and you still loved it. 
“Close your eyes. Want me to turn the heat off?” She asked, noticing your fever-flushed cheeks. You were clearly too hot, but you shook your head, not wanting to bother her. It was freezing out and the snow was making the drive almost impossible. She had slowed down to a snail's pace, following the example of the other cars on the highway. 
“Talk to me, love. What’s going on in there?” 
“Just leave me alone Wanda. I’m fine.” You grumbled, turning your body away from her as much as you could. You didn’t want to make her unhappy, but you were tired and grouchy and you just wanted her to stop trying to fix it.
“Alright, just let me know when you’re ready.” She said warmly, her voice only filled with kindness. You hated how much you loved her. You hated how much she loved you. You didn’t feel good. 
Without much thought you found yourself closing your eyes, the lull of exhaustion washing over you. When you opened them again you found yourself being shaken awake by your concerned wife. 
“I’ve got us a room and this place isn’t creepy at all. The woman at the front desk is super sweet and she’s already got you some Advil and a thermometer.” Wanda was stroking your cheek with soft fingers, anxiety bright in her beautiful hazel-green orbs. 
“Not mad?” You mumbled, stifling a cough into a slightly raised fist. 
“Never. Come on angel,” She lifted you carefully out of the car, your boots crunching in the layer of snow. It took a few steps forward and you slipped on a patch of ice. You grabbed onto Wanda for support and she wrapped an arm around your waist to support you. 
When you entered the hotel covered in snow, the woman at the front desk gave you an apologetic smile. 
“Come on you two, I’ve got a nice room for you.” She said warmly. The woman was clearly a mother, she was completely willing to take care of an absolute stranger, no questions asked.
She led you to the large room, not seeming to mind that you were tracking snow everywhere. 
“Thank you so much, Annie, this means the world,” Wanda said, rubbing your arm gently to keep you awake. You were sort of falling asleep against her, blinking your eyes rapidly to make sure you didn’t pass out. You were still tired. 
“Of course sweetie, let me know if you need anything.” She smiled as Wanda closed the door, leaving the two of you alone in the warm room.
“Wanda…Wanda, I want to go home…” You whispered, allowing her to sit you down on the bed. She pulled your shirt off and replaced it with a dry one, doing the same thing with your pants. 
“Tony’s coming to get us, he should be here in the morning, okay?” She soothed, running her fingers through your hair. A sob caught in your throat and you blinked away tears, biting your lip hard to stop them from falling. 
“Oh angel, hey, hey come here. Oh Y/n/n, it’s all going to be okay.” Wanda pulled you into her arms, but you resisted, pushing against her chest. You didn’t deserve her love. You’d never deserved it. She was too good for you. You could never be good enough. 
“What happened? What’s wrong?” She asked, suddenly panicking. She touched your knee and you curled away, tears racing down your flushed cheeks. 
“Talk to me,” The woman pleaded, giving up on the physical affection piece. You didn’t want it and she didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable. 
“I yelled at you! Why don’t you hate me? Wanda I–why?” 
“Shh, shh no, no none of that. How could I hate you? You’re tired and sick and sad. You didn’t do anything wrong, not at all.” She crooned, going incredibly gentle. A miserable sob escaped your lips and you tucked your head into her shoulder, giving up. 
She pulled you into her lap, rubbing your back as you cried. 
“I've got you pretty girl. It’s all okay.” You felt yourself relaxing in her arms as she talked softly to you, not really hearing any of her words. She was holding you tight, the pressure of the hug making you feel just a tiny bit better. 
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aeferfckr · 1 year ago
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stress reliever
"if you ever need a stress reliever, i'm here." he wonders just how willing you are to live up to your words.
content warnings. smut read at ur own risk. gender neutral reader. asshole aether agenda (delulu). overworked!aether. petnames (slut, pretty, whore). degradation. rough sex. (kinda) aftercare (717 wrds.)
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"traveler! help me deliver this package!"
"hey, traveler! wipe out this camp for me!"
"traveler! i lost my keys!"
"traveler!" this, "traveler!" that, "traveler!" "traveler!" "traveler!" he was sick of it.
the last thing aether expected was becoming everyone's little service dog while making his way through teyvat.
sure, sometimes it paid off. the connections he's made have definitely been used in multiple scenarios, but nothing could really prepare him for the workload dropped on him.
he always accepted their requests with a smile, and a quick 'i'll see it done!' but what about when he needed something?
trying to find his sister was the main mission for his journey. he asked for help but all he got was missing person posters placed in peculliar places (its the thought that counts, amber...).
when he found out the reason for his sister's disappearance, the reason for why she woke up before him, he shut down.
maybe by fate he ran into you that night, his body falls at ease in the couch as he sits beside you, while his fists ball up at the comment you made the other day
"if you ever need a stress reliever, i'm here."
his vision darkens, he wonders just how willing you are to live up to your words.
:::
the mouth that curves into the sweetest smile while helping others spew degrading words with ease — slut, bitch, whore, and the like.
his pace as relentless as his words, his dick piercing you with such ease as the sounds of skin making contact fill the room.
he had you face down ass up, holding you down by the neck as he recently attacks your hole. your screams muffled by the silk flower sheets as aether growls into your ear.
"you fucking slut. you like to be pounded like this, huh?"
he’s met with muffled grunts and whines as he laughs deeply
“hmm? pretty little thing to cockdrunk to respond? i know how to make this slutty little hole of yours shout my name”
and that he did.
he adjusts his hold on your nape, moving it under your chin to hoist you up to him. he presses his chest against your back as you hold onto his thighs for dear life, screaming while choking from the merciless grip on your throat.
“you like that, whore?” he whispers to you, using his free hand to tweak your budding nipple “like being fucked dumb on my cock?”
you nod with scrunched up eyes your mouth agape and a small trail of drool coming from your mouth. aether laughs again as he kisses your cheek then attacks your neck, blooming dark spots along your neck and collarbone with his teeth.
“ae– hmmgf– aether!” you manage to moan out, “g-gonna cum!”
edge after edge and you still declare when your orgasm is approaching? god…
“you’re pathetic.” he spits, tightening the grip on your jugular as he quickens his unbelievably fast advamces. “cum for me, slut.”
your voice hits an all time high as your orgasm crashes over you, (more like shocks your core and rocks your entire world) the position that you were in made sure that aether’s dick kisses your cervix deliciously.
you crash back onto the sheets as aether hurriedly rubs his cock, spurts of white decorating your back and ass as he growls praise’s through clenched teeth.
:::
"oh my gods. i am so sorry"
maybe you were too into it to remember your fairly busy schedule the next day. you had to call in sick at the very last minute as aether's stress has rendered you weak in the knees. no literally, it hurt to walk.
aether isn't fairing any better as he profusedly apologized for going too hard.
"i can do what you were gonna do today! i don't mind!" he offers with exaggerated expressions, his arms flailing around as his face scrunches up with anxiety.
you cup his face to calm him down,
"aether, the only thing you can do for me right now is to stay with me until noon." you yawn, "the both of us needs the rest, okay?"
his thoughts slow down as his heart aret speeds up, looking at your dazed smile and the tears that are created along your eye when you yawned,
"okay."
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© aeferfckr // mlist.
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ladythornofrivia · 1 year ago
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Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Three)
🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉
Next Chapter
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summary: modern!reader bloody and beaten up but the prince interrupted the scene.
pair: aemond x reader
warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)
a/n: please read chapter 2 before reading chapter 3 to know what’s happening. I hope you don’t mind long chapters.
Chapter Three: The House of Black & Green
~ Aemond’s POV ~
Thunder and rain barraged outside the Red Keep. So does Aemond’s heart, thundering and disoriented, clashing like the volcanos in the Doom of Valyria.
Aegon, on the other hand—surprisingly—stopped drinking; silently looking beyond the carved hole and examined the events unfold.
A gush of blood tainted onto the stoned floor when Ser Marrow thrashed your body forward, collapsing with a wet thud.
In the house of the dragons, Targaryens and Velaryons immediately stood from their seats, watching the events unfold. Ser Marrow huffed with his might, abiding for the Targaryens to come to an understanding with Ser Marrow’s reasons.
Alicent rose onto her feet and hoisted you up, but only meet halfway by you sitting up, bleeding as Alicent untied the blindfold and shielded you with her arms, as if Alicent has regret something in the first place.
“Explain yourself, Ser Marrow,” Alicent demanded, brows furrowed in ferocious temper.
Rhaenyra got up from her chair at a slow pace, mouth opened with terror at your current state. She knew that you were hurt from the battle; poisoned by the blade piercing through your youthful flesh.
“I was only doing good for the realm, to keep the peace intact,” Ser Marrow explained. “For Targaryen dynasty!”
“Lady (y/n) rescued my daughter from falling off the bridge, and you call it a ‘threat’,” Alicent defended.
Rhaenyra contained her wrath when Ser Marrow spoke for the ‘good of the realm’. “She saved my son,” she scolded him. “If it wasn’t for her, my son would’ve been killed from the wretched fools.”
“Yes, the wretched fools that this thing brought to the Red Keep!” Ser Marrow accused. “People are dead because of this monstrous bitch!”
Rhaenyra shook her head. “Ser Marrow, you forget yourself. What in the Seven Hells are you thinking? Beating her to a pulp, causing an uproar in the room was no good of excuse for you to gain sympathy of your ranking from us! Why do you think so highly of yourself? Have you had no shame on what you’ve caused?”
Ser Marrow hesitated for a moment, looking at you, then looking back at Rhaenyra. “I only did my duty, princess. Should she stay here in King’s Landing, death and destruction will bring upon the Targaryen line.”
“She did what she had to do to keep my family safe—”
“She’s a monster!” Ser Marrow bellowed. “A monster hiding beneath the human skin. She’s isn’t ordinary! Dangerous and filled with malice and lascivious intents to destory Westeros!”
Rhaenyra sighed, shaking her head. Prince Daemon, who stood the corner of the room, watched the events unfold.
Meanwhile, Alicent still embraced you tight, lessening the anxiety you were trying to suppress.
Aemond watched you from afar. Even awake, he found himself focused on your features—all fragile with grace and beauty within quietude. Droplets sank onto your tainted dress and your once immaculate hair has disarray from hair pulling. Aemond kept his composure and cast his sentimental aside.
Behind him, Aegon took notice of this, but said none; only amusement etched onto his drunken face.
“How dare you raised your voice against me, your future Queen, an heir to the Iron Throne and Seven Kingdoms?!” Rhaenyra declared.
Ser Marrow chuckled. “We all know in our hearts that you will never be queen or inherit the throne like that Rhaenys bitch, stringing along in a comfortably life with that old and weak man like that Sea Snake fucker!”
Everyone’s eyes snapped at his statement. Even Aemond’s and Aegon’s—halt from their tracks.
“Oh yes, surely you think it’s time to realize that you, a woman with big tits, hideous face and a loose cunt will never stand a chance against the son to rule to Seven Kingdoms on the Iron Throne. Sons are meant to rule, never the daughters.”
Rhaenyra had gone pale.
The silent gasps ensued.
Alicent stood up and approached Ser Marrow. “Remove your cloak and sword; you are hereby exiled from Westeros and reside at the Wall.”
Ser Marrow snorted without batting an eye on Alicent. “I don’t take orders from an ugly, vicious cunt.”
Alicent withstood her ground. “I won’t ask again, Ser Marrow.”
Anger blazing, Aemond make haste outside of the secret passage to enter the room, but Aegon hauled him back.
“Release me, brother. I have no time to indulge with your silly antics,” Aemond warned.
Aegon clutched Aemond’s arm tighter. “You’ll get in trouble. In more ways than one,” he warned back.
“Since when do you give a shit about your younger brother other than your wine and whores?” Aemond yanked his arm off from Aegon and entered the scene without noticing him; everyone is too focused that they’re unaware of Aemond’s presence hidden behind the thick pillar, his sword in hand, with his watchful eye, he was waiting for a moment to strike.
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~Your POV~
Clutching your stomach as you were urging not to cough more blood. Behind you, the shadow overcast the ground, revealing Rhaenyrs Velaryon offered you a comforting smile and hands on your shoulders, though appearing more apologetic and saddening.
“Ser Criston, take Ser Marrow and escort him outside the Red Keep at once,” Alicent demanded in a low tone.
Ser Marrow shoved Criston back; Criston held his sword on his throat as the other guards in the room held their swords directly in front of Criston and Marrow.
“I will take no part in this charade,” Ser Marrow replied.
“Stand down now, good sir,” Criston said. “And walk away from the Red Keep.”
Ser Marrow. “This is your doing, Criston! If you haven’t brought that bitch here in the Red Keep, I would’ve still be part of the Kingsguard!”
“This is your own choosing to beat Lady (y/n),” Criston responded, apathetic.
“If only the monster hadn’t save the Rhaenyra’s bastard son, the succession to the Iron Throne would be secured. But he’s no son of the late Prince Laenor”—chuckled—“no, rather both monsters brought great ruination.”
For once, you’re glad Jace isn’t here.
“Fuck you,” you choked, blood spattered. “Admit it, you couldn’t handle a woman who bested you.”
Ser Marrow’s mouth clenched so tight, veins protruding from his neck. “You vile, insolent de—”
All the guards’s swords lowered, except for one blade tip kissed on Marrow’s neck with a pointed end. “A war hasn’t even begun and you’ve beaten a young maiden. Do you really think that have you a chance of walking out alive,” a voice said. “I dare you to say the word “demon” again, Ser Marrow.”
All their eyes turned to Aemond, who was looking down, gazing at you.
Though your eyes nearly dwindled, you heart beat pounded against the cage in your chest at the sight of him.
“Aemond, what are you doing here?” Alicent asked, rushing to his side, tugging the upper sleeve of his leathered jacket.
“I was only here to defend her,” Aemond answered with a droned hum. “After all, she saved my dear sister,” Aemond said coolly without averting gaze away from Ser Marrow, though given the exception of looking towards you ever so benign.
“Get back out in the hall, Aemond. This is no fight of yours; Ser Marrow must stand down and leave from the Red Keep,” Alicent said, frantic.
But Aemond ignored her, deepened the blade. “If you touch her again, there will be war.”
Everyone held their breath as they watch Aemond, his cautions ingrained into their minds.
“Aemond,” Alicent hissed, nudging him.
Aemond lowered his blade, and as soon as he did, Ser Marrow rushed towards you with his fist high up, but the sword cleaved Marrow’s head into two, leaving the guards already held their swords to disarm Aemond, as the table clanged loud; one guard bled from his head; Aegon slammed the guard down from trying to stab Aemond on his blind side, and held a short sword; the blade’s tip scraped the guard’s cheek.
“I wouldn’t do it again if I were you,” Aegon said to the guard and caught sight of you with a faint smirk on his wine-stained lips.
Prince Daemon lazily made his way to the crowd to retrieve Rhaenyra as the guards collected Ser Marrow’s body. But before that, Aemond said, “Feed Ser Marrow’s corpse to Vhagar. His service is no longer needed.”
Spectators stared in awe at the sudden events; not one utter a word of objection or sputter disagreement with the one-eyed dragon prince, as Aemond swept his sword clean with a cloth, not sparing a glance to anyone.
Once he sheathed his sword, Aemond advanced towards you and lifted you up, leaving everyone staggered at his proclamation for you.
Taglist: @galactict3a @toodlesxcuddles @daonenonlysandman @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @danika1994 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics
@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved
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cookie-crumblr · 7 months ago
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GN!READER x 3 YANDERE OC’s
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thinking about how Enix, Lucy and Issac would be the first three of my OC’s to cut our legs off if we disobeyed them or tried to run away an i MMMMMMMMMM
CW: GN! Reader, no body descriptions for reader, dismemberment of reader, reader referred to as they/them, murder, drugging, vomit(non descriptive dw), spoilers for lucky, permanent body mutilation, non con, p in whatever hole you have, somno(in Enix’s part), reader has hair in lucy’s part mentioned (not described) Not proof read!
!!MINORS DNI!!
Enix~
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When you first awoke in shackles, you couldn’t imagine staying! this guy that you had once thought was just a shy nerd, turning out to be a psychopath to this extent!? You can’t!
You think of a plan to escape as soon as you can.
He let you loose after a while. you promised you’d be good, schmoozed up to him too, pretending nothing had changed. And he believed you.
You ran the first chance you got. A neighbor saw you running in your underwear and hurried you inside. You asked to call the police, she rushed to find her phone.
But too soon after, Enix busts through her front door.
He has a pair of hedge trimmers in his hand… You tried to run but you were frozen solid watching him beat the old woman to death with them. You tried to tear yourself away from the gorey scene unfolding, you tried to run, but he caught you.
“Butterflyyyy~ Looks like Ill have to rip off your wings after all…” He holds you tightly in his grasp, his tall body fully encasing you. “I really didn’t want to”
He injects you with something as he’s holding you, and you feel your body grow suddenly so heavy and your vision fades.
Now he’s looking over your precious, sleeping form, you are even easier to watch and protect! and he can’t help but love how dependent you’ll be on him from now on.
His dick throbs.
You’re so perfect, even just sleeping under anesthesia. He lifts your stumps and gently feels his work… He shouldn’t. He stops himself. Not yet anyway, he wouldn’t want to injure you while you’re in a serious recovery phase.
But soon, he’ll definitely put you back under to fully enjoy what he’s done.
Upon waking you feel terrified… Something is so very wrong! you can’t move your legs! You shoot up into a sitting position, and see the reason…
You vomit over the edge of the bed.
Your legs are gone.
(He definitely mounts them on the wall in the bedroom with a little plaque and everything like they’re one of his prized specimens)
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Lucy~
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You’ve disobeyed her too many times recently, you’ve ran and hid yourself inside the forbidden red doored room.
You didn’t anticipate how obsessed with you she turned out to be.
The room is completely filled in every corner with something that has to do with you. Pictures and posters of you cover the walls, they look professionally taken. The shelves are filled with photo albums, journals detailing your days and old documents. Some have your thrown out med bottles, vials of what you can only assume is cum in some and blood in the others…. You shiver. You don’t want to keep looking, but it’s all around you.
There’s what looks like some kind of Alter at the front and center of the room.
You find it hard to breathe in here…
You think you might get sick if you stay too long.
There are two windows that don’t have screens on either side of the alter. You dash to one of them and try it, luckily, it slides right open.
“Where are they!?” She screeches. You hear her heels clicking against the wood down the hall. “Find them.”
You escape down a trellis covered in blue morning glories, and run into the gardens.
All too soon you’re being tackled to the grass, as one of Lucy’s guards finds you.
Lucy walks out next, taking her time to get to you, building up even more of your tremendous anxiety. Your heart is thumping in your throat, you can see each beat pulsing in your vision. You’ve never seen her so mad!
The guard holds you down obediently.
She’s got an axe.
“You don’t need both of your legs, right Y/N?” She stands over you.
“Wh-what??”
“Hold them still.” She says to the guard.
“Lu-Lucy!?”
She brings down the axe onto your thigh, a harsh, heavy pain bursts through you and you scream out. Your bone definitely snapped but she wasn’t strong enough to take off your leg in one clean hit….
She brings it down a second time, missing the same spot and just causing you more blinding pain, you scream until you’re coughing and almost vomiting.
“LUCY!!! STOP!!!!” You beg and plead but she looks wildly ecstatic as she brutally mutilates your body.
Again the axe comes down finally separating your leg from your body. the pain is immense and your blood soaks the garden bed. You’re so dizzy and you feel sick, you’re writhing and sobbing just glad the worst is over.
“Call the doctor. And a taxidermist.” She licks your blood off of the axe before she throws it and picks up her dress instead, and steps over you. Her body falls over yours, cradling your face in her arms as she now sits on your midsection. You’re fading in and out of consciousness and weakly try to do anything, but the pain is overwhelming.
“Aw… You’re so cute Y/N, I can’t stay mad at you~!” She pets you and wipes some sweat slicked hair off of your forehead.
Her soft lips come down to yours, you barely register the sensation. As you’re fading you feel her rocking her hips on you.
(She def keeps them in her worship room)
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Issac~
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“This is necessary, Y/N!”
“NO ISSAC PLEASE!!!!!” You threaten to rip your vocal cords with how loud you’re screaming!
He brings the hacksaw to your thigh, right under your cheek. You feel the rough metal touch you and flail wildly.
You’re on your stomach so you thankfully don’t have to watch…
“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!” You repeat over and over, snot and tears staining your face.
“I hate to do this to you i swear! But you’ve made me! we told you not to run!!”
“I WONT I WONT I SWEAR I WONT!!!”
“We already gave you that chance.” He states coldly.
The metal touches your flesh once more, but this time he slides it across with pressure enough to cut right down to your bone. You feel the vibrations against the solid part of your body and shiver. The pain is intense and you don’t recognize the voice coming out of you anymore.
You writhe and curl into yourself against the concrete while he pushes the saw back over you, and then again.
The pain doesn’t stop when he stops cutting.
It’s the most intense thing you’ve ever felt.
You’re biting your lip and groaning and wailing when he puts it in you.
“What!!” You cant wrap your head around what’s happening! He’s entering you, while your bleeding out from your thigh!
He spreads your legs wider, you hear him sloshing around in the puddle of your blood.
He fully shoves himself inside you without regard, he can’t help himself every time that you’re completely at his mercy.
You’re all out of wailing at this point, you’re throat is too dry and torn. Your vision is filling with black spots and you feel terrified. All you feel is the throbbing numbness of where your leg used to be, and his huge dick slowly stroking your insides.
You feel the familiar sweat inducing sensation of a saw blade against your other thigh now, You can’t even scream anymore or beg him to stop, you just feel your skin start to be torn open all over again and pass out.
He cums inside you and it spills out around his length mixing into your blood puddle.
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swoomoo · 20 days ago
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A short entry that highlights Amare's mental state regarding her sire early on after being embraced into the Sabbat and her relationship with a future pack member.
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Useful
Rain pattered against the window. The moonlight pierced through it, lighting up the dimly lit room just perfectly splitting the clouds. There was a familiar hum as the laundromat Amare found herself in was operating behind her. No one there but her. Unlife had not been kind to her but these few moments of just… waiting, felt like a sweet drug. Being able to simply exist without the pressure of proving why you should not receive another cruel punishment. The stares, that was her least favorite part. Knowing those things were watching her, grading her ability to be depraved. It was no different then the memories she had felt as a child. The cold stares of those women as that hopeless fuck that was her father paraded her around like he was the second coming of Christ. She preferred those days to this though. She could run off then and they wouldn’t find her. 
“My precious doll, you are here early.” that smooth voice cut through her ears like a blade. What the fuck is he doing here? He isn’t supposed to be here tonight. I’m not supposed to see him. Amare quickly turned around and saw her sire walk out from the shadows with a wide smile on his face. “You must finally be understanding the joys of what it is to be a child of Caine.” She stared at him. Her eyes unknowingly widening as he got closer. “Excellence is not a path but a road paved forward. You must show excellence in all things for the road behind you to be followed.” She quickly said to him as she started to back away. His eyes stayed on her as he slowly approached. Her eyes were glaring back the little bit of light that was in the room. The sound of each step filled her with anxiety. Amare’s back finally bumped against the dryers behind her. Remi continued to match her pace. 
He made his way to her, taking his hand and sliding it down the side of her face. His other hand grabbed her waist as he pushed her against the wall  “My doll, do you really think you are capable of paving anything?" He stopped for a moment and looked directly into her eyes, " You’ve accomplished nothing with your life. Everything you thought you achieved was because of me and everything in this unlife I’ve given to you.” Remi’s gentle tone started to turn into a shout. His hand that was tracing down her face was now firmly gripped around her neck. “The reason you aren’t ripped apart and your soul forced down some fledglings throat is because of me!” Amare stuck her foot against the wall and pushed off of it. Using her cursed strength she flew across the room. Remi was seemingly gone now. A crumbling sound now filled the room as some drywall and brick dust fell on top of her. She had jumped across the room and through the wall.
A loud cackling echoed across the room. She stuck her head out from the newly formed hole to see her designated partner, Styx gleefully giggling. “I cannot believe that you fucking freaked that hard. You are so fucking stupid!” They continued to laugh. “Goddamn, just wait until you realize how to handle that shit. Maybe you will be useful after all.” Amare put her head back down for a moment. It wasn’t him, just that asshole. He isn’t here. He isn’t here. “FUUUUUUUUCK” She screamed as loud as she could in that moment. Her scream was muffled by the torn insulation. She stood up and looked at Styx, “What the fuck are we here for?” She said to him, her voice trembling down as if she was just pulled from a frenzy. Styx composed themselves. “Well if you are going to be a bitch about it then fine. We are going to hit some charity office. We are prepping for a feast and Remi wants something special offered up from his pack so he said this exact charity would be perfect. I guess they do something with kids? I don’t fucking know why the guy wanted us to hit here.” Their tone remained composed. This was the exact charity that Amare had worked with when she was still alive and the same one that helped her when she escaped the cult at the age of eighteen. She knew exactly why Remi was targeting this place.
Why do you hate me so fucking much. I am useful. Why do you have to do this? I’ve done everything you’ve wanted me to. Amare’s eyes had dropped to the floor as she was listening to Styx ramble and thinking about what she was going to do. Styx piped back up, “We have a truck parked behind the building already. We are just going to throw at least four people in there. That is all he wanted from here. Guess we are gonna nab a cainite as a dessert later tonight but he did say he wanted some good shit, managers and bosses, no janitors or useless fucks.” Amare finally looked back up towards him. “Okay, let’s just go already.” The two of them left the laundromat behind and walked into the rain. The building in question was only a block away. Amare knew it well.
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Divider by @diableriedoll
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aphroditesswan · 1 year ago
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OML THANK U FOR RESPONDING TO MY QUESTION 😭🙏
Okay so like how about this...
Chuuya and reader/y/n are dating, but she's been hanging out with dazai more often then with him. But in reality they ploting a surprise for him for an anniversary or his birthday! (Gender can be any I don't mind!)
Angst to fluff please 😢🙏
Can be either a short fic, headcanon or anything I don't mind as long as ur confterble and happy! Anyways have a nice day/night (might request more in the future...) ♡♡
rather melodramatic, aren’t you? 
chuuya nakahara x gn! reader 
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warnings : a lotttt of drinking, jealousy, insecurities in the relationship 
summary : chuuya absolutely loses himself thinking of why you would pick dazai of all people over him to hang out with, jumping to conclusions until you get home to explain everything. 
genre : angst to fluff with like one suggestive comment 
notes : i listened to cigarettes out the window, a pearl, step on me, the other woman christmas kids, and mr loverman for this so if you see any references to those, they were most def intentional 😭
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its been a week and you’ve been hanging around that idiotic dazai, probably out flirting and getting all close to him… 
at least that’s how it was in chuuya’s eyes. 
he was a bit delusional and when you sprinkle dazai in along with the absolute insanity that goes on in his head, it can’t lead to anything good. 
maybe you’re growing tired of him, he thinks. 
maybe you’ve grown to love that idiot more than him, he thinks. 
there are infinite possibilities running through chuuya’s head as he consistently drinks away this thoughts, the days and nights feeling utterly, completely, inexplicably empty without you. 
you fill the hole in his heart that he’s had for as long as he can remember, and to think he’d have dazai take that away from him?? 
not on his watch. 
well… his sober watch.
he threw his hat onto the couch, grabbing a bottle of wine without even looking at the cabinets for a cup. he didn’t care at l this point, all he wanted was to forget the ache in his chest, the spinning in his stomach, the burn of tears in his eyes as he flopped his back flat on the bed, breathing deeply to at least try and calm himself even a little bit. 
but he knew that was pointless. 
he felt like nothing without you. sure he was an important figure in the Port Mafia but without you? please, his status and power could’ve meant the same as a dirty nickel he almost tripped on while walking on the sidewalk. 
he opened the bottle, sitting up as he did so he didn’t spill it all over his soft silk sheets. those were expensive, not worth the mess he thought. 
he chugged a bit of it, throwing the cork into a forgotten corner of the room as he threw his head back to throughly get the most out of his five second gulp. 
he slammed it onto the nightstand, the aggression in his movements aimed at you, at dazai, at his insecurities. he tore his gloves off, throwing them onto the nightstand before putting his hands over his face, his fingers in his hair as he quietly cried into his hands. 
he wished he was better. he knew him and dazai were a team at times, that you wouldn’t do this to him, that he was just as good as everyone else if not better… 
but he couldn’t shake it. he couldn’t shake his insecurities, his anxieties all because of dazai.  
he’d drink himself to death inside a prison cell before he admits that though. 
he just wished that you wouldn’t disappear from his life, he’d let you do whatever you want as long as you stay with him. okay, that was a lie, he isn’t a pushover. a devoted boyfriend? absolutely but a doormat? never.
he grabbed the cold dark bottle of wine again, drinking and crying the rest of the sunset away as all he could think and worry about was whatever the hell you and dazai were doing and why you had barely texted him all week. 
he paced through your shared bedroom, talking rather loudly to himself as he tried to come up with reasonable explanations, his reasoning for your absence getting more and more insane as he kept drinking. 
thankfully, he heard you finally walk through the door. he quickly grabbed his hat, throwing it on as he went to meet you at the door with his cheeks flushed and his eyes dazed from alcohol. 
“there you are! do you- do you know how long i’ve been waiting for you- to get back? i swear i was about to text you and ask what- what position you two were in for fucks sake i-“ 
he rambled on and on until he saw your amused yet concerned smile… and a gift bag in your hand…? 
“what the hell- stop smiling like that! don’t tell me dazai got you that bullshit- you’ve got to be joking don’t tell me your-“ 
he was cut off by a kiss, his lips tasting like alcohol and his breath smelling the same. you counted the seconds until midnight like it was new year’s eve and although you could tell he was already breathless, you didn’t let go. he could hold out for just a bit longer, he’d have to. 
as soon as it hit 12:00 and the notification for a very very special day popped up you let him go, the poor man almost falling straight into you. 
“why-… the hell did you-“ 
“it’s april 29th chuuya.” 
“what does that have to do with anything? i don’t give a single shit what the day is.” 
“chuuya.” 
“what??” 
“it’s your birthday. happy birthday, love.” 
you smiled, one hand still holding onto his shoulder and the other bringing up the gift bag you have for him. it takes him a good minute or two, but eventually his drunken mind put two and two together and figured out everything on its own. 
“oh- ohhh… ugh, i’m so sorry dear.” 
he groaned with a frown, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as he lazily wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you closer to him. 
“it’s fine chuu, i missed you, you know. it’s not easy keeping secrets.” 
“i’m glad you feel that way.” 
he sighed into your shoulder, breathing in your scent. he thanked the gods that you didn’t smell a bit like dazai but just like you always do, maybe a bit tainted with wine and his cologne but that’s how he liked it, he was possessive like that. 
“we can spend the day together… right? just us for today.” 
“well after you get some sleep and a pill for your hangover, yes of course we can.” 
“as long as you come with me, i accept.
“see? what would you do without me.”
“baby, i’m a wreck when i’m without you.”
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sorry this was super short!! i wrote this at like midnight cause that’s when i get randomly motivated but i hope this is to your liking!! please feel free to request more :DD
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shinestarhwaa · 1 year ago
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HAPPY TO HELP || CHOI JONGHO
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Genre: Smut
Pairing: Roommate!Jongho x Fem reader
Word Count: 790
Warnings/tags: mentions of porn, masturbation, protected sex, strength kink
@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
Tell me if u wanna be added to my taglist❣️
ENJOY!
The fact you were so turned on ALL damn day was so frustrating. At work, on the way home and even the sight of your roommate Jongho cooking pasta was reason enoufh for you to start dripping between your legs.
You watched as he prepared the red pasta sauce, making circular motions with his hands while stirring the sauce. You rolled your eyes and laid yourself on the couch, turning on the TV.
"Did you want some pasta, Y/N?" Jongho asked. "Yeah, and a fat cock in my hole," you mumbled. "What was that?"
"Yeah, sure," you sighed.
After dinner you made your way upstairs to your room, trying to find a moment to relieve yourself. If you were correct Jongho had a soccer match tonight so he would leave soon. You decided to watch an episode of your favourite hour to stall before helping yourself out.
-
The sound of skin slapping against each other and the sinful moans coming out of your laptop filled the room. The woman in the video was getting railed so hard you thought she might be split open by the huge cock the man possessed.
You had two of your fingers deep in your cunt and no matter how wet and horny you were, you couldn't cum. You let out a frustrated groan. "Why the fuck can't I just cum," you whined out, rubbing your clit.
You were fed up, pent up and so needy and yet your hand was getting so tired you were gonna give up. Until there was a knock on your door. Wasn't Jongho supposed to he out?
You quickly pulled up the duvet to cover your body, but forgot to pause the video. When Jongho stepped into your room the sounds of the woman screaming out startling him. Your cheeks flushed and you closed your laptop with a loud clap.
"Wow, are you okay?" He asked, not even being that confused by you watching porn. "You sounded surely frustrated. Can't cum, huh?" he asked.
You were surprised with how chill Jongho was, so much more chill than you were. You were nearly shaking with anxiety and excitement.
"Jongho, you should probably go," you said, "I am naked under here." "So?" "Well if you don't want me to rip off that ugly sweater and those way too tight jeans and jump on your cock you need to leave."
He smirked, surprised, but into it. "Well I am not stopping you. I don't mind helping you out with your little problem."
You licked your lips as you were quick to strip him from his clothes, revealing your two naked bodies. It wasn't the first time you saw each other naked, but this was a whole new setting, and you were more than impressed with the size of Jongho's cock.
"Pegged me for a... kinda-small-dick-kinda-dude, Y/N?" Jongho smirked. "Hm, this is not the biggest I've had, mister," you teaser him. "Well, I'll fucking show you what it can do."
You grabbed a condom from your drawer and handed it over to him. "Damn, hasty," Jongho scoffed, putting the condom on.
"I've been fingering myself for 40 minutes, I just want your cock, idiot," you mumbled. Jongho laughed,"I know, I could hear everything. Sucks that your vibrator died, my condoleances," he grinned.
"Yeah, thanks," you rolled your eyes, "now put that dick of yours to work." Jongho scoffed. "You're annoying, now shut up."
Jongho pinned you down, holding your arms above your head with only one of his hands, as he guided his cock into your wet, pleading hole.
You gasped as he stretched your pussy walls, clenching down on him immediately. "So eager," he breathed into your ear, "so needy for some cock, aren't you?"
"Y-yes, oh god," you moaned out as he pistoned his thick cock in and out of your pulsating hole.
"You're so tiny underneath me baby, I could fucking break you in half," he smirked, picking up the pace. You moaned loud as he rocked his hips into you, breasts bouncing along with his sharp thrusts.
"Yes, Jongho, fuck!" You whined, feeling the familiar warmth in your lower tummy. "Is my little one getting close? Gonna cum on my cock? Such a little slut, only needed some cock in her pussy right? Tell me how good I'm making you feel. Only me, hm?"
You shivered, body trembling as you moaned out, releasing and clenching on his length. "Yes, only you, Jongho!"
It didn't like long before Jongho spilled in the condom. He rode out your highs before pulling out and throwing away the condom.
You panted softly, fixing your hair. "Yeah, uhm, that surely helped," you admitted giggly. Jongho smirked. "I am happy to help."
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finniestoncrane · 6 months ago
Note
Okay so, this is my first time requesting something (social anxiety is a bitch😭) Also, my birthday was yesterday! (05-11) and I was wondering if I can have a little fun with Nick (my obsession since I was 6) please? Birthday smut maybe?🌚 If not totally understandable and I hope you have a wonderful week🤍
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L4D2!Nick x GN!Reader, word count: 650 happy late birthday!! any excuse to write some nick smut, and i think since he's someone who would value any reason to spoil himself, he would extend that to someone who meant something to him too... 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, risky sex, public sex (although is it public if it's just... zombies?), no lube (if he'd known he would have gone looking)
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"It's not the best circumstances, but I don't think it'll get much better than this."
Nick sat beside you on the roof of the shitty motel. Supplies found, cleared out the infected, and now there was time to rest before you headed to the room you had barricaded up for a safe night's rest.
"At least it's nice out..."
The sunset was beautiful, warm, soft, and you couldn't help but marvel at how peaceful everything was. It seemed perfect for what you hoped was about to happen. Weeks of passive flirting, teasing, tension building between you both, it had all amounted to not very much. But you'd been counting the days, and today was your birthday. Surely, you hoped, all of the hints you dropped might mean Nick would give you something to celebrate the day.
"... so... here you go."
Nick passed you a small box, and you tried to hide the confusion, and the mounting disappointment, on your face.
"What? You don't like it? You haven't even opened it."
"Sorry, sorry, it's just... I didn't expect this. I didn't expect a gift."
"What were you expecting?"
The silence between you was deafening. Nick was a smart guy though, an accomplished guy. He knew that face. Knew that slight pout of the lips, the way your body leaned into him.
He took the gift from your hands and tossed it to the side, his hand skating up your thigh as he turned his body to you.
"Is this what you wanted?"
Biting your lip, you nodded. It was desperate, needy, but it was what you wanted. And he was quick to give it to you, turning his body and mounting you with ease, a knee sliding between your thighs, spreading them as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.
Nick pulled his cock out, stroking it, watching it get harder as he waited for you to pull your pants down and off, tossing them to the side, smiling wide with excitement.
"Wow, this really is what you wanted."
His eyes fell to your fingers, placed either side of your entrance, spreading yourself open for him. As he lined up the tip of his cock with your hole, he pressed his forehead to yours, his body as close as he could as he began to ride you.
Your fingers found their way to his hips, pulling them down harder, dragging their way back up to his shoulders and clinging tight to him as his cock disappeared entirely within you, sliding out to give you a moment of reprieve before he stretched you, filled you, once more.
Nick's panting was louder than your moans, the effort he was putting into pounding you taking his breath away from him, making you quiver as he slid in and out, sweat beading on his forehead, strands of dark, black hair falling into his face.
"Are you... are you close? Because I am, and it's your birthday so-"
You could feel him tensing up, a coiled spring ready to release, and you were close yourself, so you freed up your hands and provided yourself with the external stimuli you needed to get closer, to ride the waves of orgasm alongside him.
Nick was still first though, falling aprt completely with a wail and a shudder, flooding you with his seed with wreckless abandon. The feeling of him, warm and wet and sticky, twitching, pulsing as he shuddered through the last of his own climax, brought you to your own.
He stayed inside of you until you had stopped shivering, until your body came to a complete rest, and then he rolled back over and lay down on the roof beside you once more.
"The present... It was a candy bar. I had to wrap it pretty quick. And the box is... hastily made out of some cardboard I found on the ground. Wanna split the candy?"
Smiling, you reached to the side for the box, tossing it over to him.
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ghostykapi · 1 year ago
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[m + t] i.
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it’s easy to pretend for mina that everything is alright
it’s also easy to predict how she’ll end up on the couch tonight
“myoui mina” tzuyu calls out from the hallway, hands on her hips and eyes drilling holes into the japanese woman’s head as she enters their home “you’re late again”
mina nods but doesn’t reply, simply looking away from her wife, eyes guilty as she takes in the time she has returned home
12:52 am
“you are sleeping anywhere but on our bed” tzuyu simply states, turning around to go and finally sleep, leaving her dejected penguin wife in the living room
mina knows that tzuyu is never mad per say, but when your wife is cranky from the lack of sleep from work and from homesickness, maybe it’s best not to be late on your date.
mina and tzuyu.
married.
where do we start?
well, we start at the university, where mina meets tzuyu in the same elective, same after class organization and same dormitory building. they only see each other in passing for two years, right before mina graduates first
then we move on to first jobs, where mina meets tzuyu again everytime she takes the morning shifts at work. the smell of bread and coffee from tzuyu’s cafe swimming in her head as she always orders an iced americano and some form of bread
then through a mutual friend do their lives actually intertwine, where they finally talk in a party where mina and tzuyu escape from. the memory of eating and talking together in tzuyu’s car in a part forever engraved in their hearts
it only takes a two years for them to tie the knot and get married. it also takes another two years for tzuyu to wish that maybe mina should finally start finding other jobs that don’t ruin their already busy schedules
tzuyu knows this by heart, the same reasons why mina is stuck at work and why seemingly the distance keeps on growing
tzuyu just wishes she has a reason to be mad so it doesn’t feel so bad that when her heart is being crushed every time mina is late
so when she feels mina slip underneath the covers in the early morning, she doesn’t have the actual energy or heart to shover her away. mina wrapping her arms from behind and nuzzling herself into her wife’s neck, seemingly at peace even though she’s walking on a thin line of forgiveness
it’s quiet, no words needed to ask what’s on each other’s mind. only the sounds of the air conditioning system and the rumble of thunder filling the space between them
well except what ever mina says definitely woke tzuyu up from her half sleep state
“i uh gave in my 2 weeks notice”
mina’s job, while has amazing perks, is basically hell. the amount of paperwork needed to be done within each day takes a massive toll physically, mentally and emotionally. the only reason why mina hasn’t find time to find other jobs is because the time it took to find other jobs was simply too much on her schedule
tzuyu doesn’t say anything to this, knowing there’s more to the story than what it seems, but she let’s this go for tonight. there’s always breakfast to grill the actual whole story out of the tired penguin
so she turns around, holds a tired mina into her arms and whispers sweet nothings into her ear, fighting away any anxiety that seeps into her heart
“i’m sorry” mina’s tears have already dried up, but she can still feel her heart ache “i’m sorry i’m late again”
“it’s ok” tzuyu holds her tighter and closer, wishing to always protect her “i’m just happy you’re free now”
“i’ll bring you to that restaurant you wanted to always go” mina is stubborn and persistent to make it up, and more, to her beloved “i-i’ll even take you out on a date every night for the rest of our lives to make it up to you”
it’s only when mina feels tzuyu start to shake when she pulls back to look at her. her hands automatically wiping away any tears
“i love you” mina kisses away the tears, even if she’s starting to cry herself “i love you so much, i’m sorry i’m never on time on our dates”
“it took you two years to figure that out” tzuyu can’t be mad like this, she want to but it’s so hard to be mad at mina “you’re so mean”
“i know i know” mina cradles tzuyu’s face before kissing her “i’m here now, i’ll be here more, i’ll be with you forever”
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iamdeceived · 10 months ago
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Cheeky little girl
⚠️The events narrated in this story are completely invented.⚠️
💜The reader is a woman in this story!💜
⚠️English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes in this story!⚠️
🐝Hey, come visit me on Instagram!!🐝
🌹Personal Instagram: @vic_m.d 🌹
🌹Arts Instagram: @vic_tia_mai 🌹
➡️Orders temporarily closed!⬅️
⚠️Warnings: Mentions of robberies, violence, obscenity, inappropriate language... And yondu being yondu!⚠️
🖤Good reading!!!🖤
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Today was a very important day. Yondu, and his crew (you've been part of the crew for a short time) had a great place to rob. You were the only woman in the group, and as ridiculous as it may seem, everyone on the crew is absolutely respectful towards you. You changed into your crew uniform in front of the broken mirror in your room. Adrenaline was running like crazy through your veins, you couldn't wait to do this job.
Being new to the crew, you wanted to show your worth at any cost. This was his perfect opportunity to do so. “you’ll do great y/n!” You said to yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror as you fixed your hair.
You quickly left the comfort of your room, only to find the entire crew in front of the door. "My God woman! You take too long in there!" Kraglin said. There was no real anger in his voice, but they were all bothered by his delay.
“Oh shut up Krag! If you want to go ugly and messy for this mission, do it however you want... I want to make sure I look pretty enough for my perfect victory!”Everyone (including you) laughed at your speech. You weren't like that, not really. But you were really nervous. Oh my God, you're going to explode with anxiety.
Yondu came to you with the typical walk of someone who is tired of this bunch of grown men he has to take care of. He looked at you skeptically, "and the princess finally finished putting on her makeup, right? What a fucking mess!" Yondu led the way as the ship's entrances opened. You and kraglin looked at each other. "He's not having a good day Y/n, don't tease him today!” You didn't even need to ask to know the reason for your captain's irritation. Peter Quill of course. Peter is a good man but he gets on anyone's nerves easily.
You put this matter aside and joined the others. Descending on the alien planet unknown to you. Yondu said that this was an extremely rich planet, and full of evil aliens. It would be a pleasure for all of you to steal from them what they had to spare. Money.
You did well breaking into an empty house. Even seemingly far away, you could hear Yondu whistling, indicating that he was also having fun with the situation.Kraglin initially begged you not to walk away from him, but he knew you were stubborn and would end up doing it at one time or another. And there you were. Filling his backpack with all the money he could get his hands on. Enjoying the emptiness and silence of that house that you invaded so easily. Until a hand surprises her. You turn around sharply just in time to see the alien owner of the house with a gun pointed at his head. His breathing became rapid. Until a sharp whistle filled his ears, and the alien fell to the ground with a hole in the middle of his forehead. Yondu came in through the window, glaring at you angrily.
“I thought I made it clear enough for you to be careful! I don't have to take care of my men, and I won't do that to a woman who doesn't even pay attention to what she's doing!” His words were cold and cruel and they hurt you, especially because you are a very proud woman. Her blood boiled with rage. “You just wasted your fucking time coming here to save me because you wanted to! I might as well have dealt with this shit, I didn't ask you to come here and bother me.And on top of that wanting to rub things in my face." You weren't necessarily shouting, but your words were sharp enough to have the desired effect.You bitterly regretted them seconds later.
Yondu walked towards you with heavy steps, he grabbed your wrist and started to take you towards the ship. “You’re going to stay inside until you learn to respect me, you cheeky little girl!”Despite what you expected you didn't hear anger in his tone of voice. Yondu wasn't hurting your wrist either, he was firm enough to keep you in line but didn't hurt you. On the other hand, his words sounded... Fun?
You tried (in vain) to free yourself from his grip on your wrist, but he kept dragging you to the ship. You knew your captain was stubborn when he wanted to be, and you knew you had done him wrong, disrespected him, but this situation was starting to make you smile. It was always pleasurable for you to irritate the boys, but you had never tried to do that to your captain. And for sure, annoying Yondu Udonta was the best thing you had ever experienced in your life (Until that moment).
Yondu put you on the ship and went back to his work. You couldn't believe you were locked inside alone while everyone else was enjoying the fun. You thought about the shame and humiliation it would be to look at the boys' faces after being locked on the ship for disrespecting the captain. You started to regret bragging in front of them all. They would make fun of you later until they got tired, and they never got tired. "I'm screwed” You said out loud.
After a while (which seems like an eternity to you) Yondu returned with his crew. You waited for the mockery of the men of the crew, but instead they just looked at you in silence, with a certain gleam of admiration in their eyes.
You looked one by one with raised eyebrows, trying to understand what the hell was going on there. Kraglin walked up to you and whispered: "I know exactly what happened earlier, I saw you being dragged into the ship... Just like I also saw you talking loudly to the captain. But Yondu scolded us all, saying that you were the one who got the most money out of everyone on the crew. Why is he covering for you? I don't know either, but please thank him later!”
You couldn't believe it. Yondu defending you? It seemed impossible.
You decided to listen to Kraglin this time for a change. During the night, you took advantage of the fact that everyone was sleeping, and crawled into the captain's cabin to thank him for saving you. For the two times he saved you.
You knocked on the door in fear. You were about to leave and pretend nothing had happened, but then the door opened.Yondu was sitting in his armchair, looking at some papers. "What do you want at this hour, girl?” You almost held your breath. Almost. Yondu lifted his red eyes from the paper to look at you and for the first time you trembled under his gaze. Maybe you never noticed how deep the tone of his eyes was, or how menacing and beautiful they are. "Sit down girl." You obeyed immediately. "what do you want?”
You looked down completely embarrassed. "I would like to thank you…”
Yondu looked at you, disbelieve. “are you telling me that you, you are the most stubborn creature in this entire universe, came here to thank me?”
“Y-yes... And I would also really like to apologize for speaking to you like that earlier today..." Yondu's jaw dropped. He stood up quickly, and you did the same, he walked to you quickly and held your chin between his fingers. “Who brainwashed you y/n?” You looked at him in disbelief, you were already completely regretting having done this. "Seriously Yondu, can you take me seriously at least once in your life? Damn I'm really trying to do the right thing here…” Yondu looked you deeply straight in the eyes. For a moment you felt your legs weaken. "I can't believe you're telling me this..." You tried to smile sweetly at him. "Why did you tell the boys that I took the most money? I barely had time for that..." You noticed yondu following your lips with his eyes as you spoke, it made you slightly dizzy. “because I know how stupid they can be sometimes!”
Yondu turned his back on you, slowly walking away “So you thought it was a good idea to defend me?" You asked, still confused.Yondu turned to look at you. "Can you just be grateful for what I did?" You dropped your gaze to the floor. “y-yes... I'm sorry, captain.” Yondu almost fell backwards. "Seriously girl, what's going on with you today?”
“I'm just following your orders, captain." You were still looking at the ground. Yondu's fingers went to your chin again. He made you look up to face him. "Why does my title sound so sweet coming out of your mouth?" He was dangerously close, it made her heart skip a beat. "Maybe because I'm adorable. But I can offer you sweeter things than calling you captain.” God, what the fuck did you just say? You were in front of your captain, insinuating such things to him . Her face burned with embarrassment, you were ready to apologize again, when you realized that yondu was still staring at your lips. "Show me”.
You felt your face heat up, your breathing slowed down and heat rose up your legs. “I-I… Yondu…” He ran his finger across your lips slowly. "I can?" You nodded your head several times. Yondu took your lips, delighting in the softness of your skin. “Damn, you weren’t kidding…” You smiled weakly. Yondu picked you up and placed you on his desk. He joined your body to his, and you felt his erection brush against your inner thighs. A sweet moan escaped your lips when he tasted your neck.
He began to slowly take off your clothes. He stroked his clothed cock as he looked at you. "What a delicious woman!" He trailed kisses down your body, and fumbled when taking off your belt. He clothes were on the floor, along with his clothes. You stared at his member for a moment, it was blue like the rest of his body, and it was much bigger than you expected it to be. He pumped his dick before joining your lips to his again. “Please Y/n, let me fuck you!” You nodded. The words simply refused to leave his mouth.
He looked really desperate, because he attached his cock to her entrance as soon as he could. He slowly thrust himself inside you. Yondu hid his face from the curve of her neck when he was all the way inside her pussy.
It took you a while to get used to his length, but you were soon bucking your hips against him. Yondu started thrusting slowly, and gradually accelerating his movements. His hands searched for her breasts all the time, delighting in the softness of his skin. You grabbed his shoulders with your nails. The two of your bodies beat in a rhythmic frequency, making wet sounds echo throughout the room. These sounds however were no louder than the moans of the two of you.
You felt a new wave of heat invade you every time you felt him going deep inside you. You whined for him. “Damn, you’re so hot y/n!”
His movements became more intense, and you realized he was already on the edge. "Yondu... Out!”He reluctantly complied, and pulled his painfully hard cock out of you.
He pumped his cock a few times before collapsing onto her belly. You brought your fingers to his juice and brought them to your lips. Tasting your captain's taste. He quickly bent down, and put his mouth together with her needy pussy. You thought you were going crazy. His tongue traced all the right places on you, sometimes teasing your needy entry. You moaned wildly, pushing his head against your core. You fell onto his lips. Yondu drank every drop of her sweet nectar.
You don't remember much of what happened after that the only thing you know is that you woke up in your captain's bed. He wasn't there when you woke up, which left you frustrated.
You went to talk to your best friend, Kraglin, and immediately noticed that he had horrible dark circles under his beautiful eyes. “Krag... Are you okay?" Kraglin looked at you ironically. "Next time you have sex with the captain, remember to make less noise because there are people wanting to sleep... Me included!” You blushed violently, and Kraglin couldn't help but laugh at you.
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streakyglasses · 3 months ago
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Just got my period, so prompt #49 on your intimacy prompts seems fitting! Would love to see #stris with this prompt, too. Currently rotting away and needing something to read lol
Hello!! Unsure if you’re the same as the last anon, but thank you if you are! I’m missing writing, too, there’s just a ton going on at the moment making it hard to actually finish anything. (lots of half-written angst/hc in the drafts rn + being absolutely stuck on aost) I’m hoping maybe rewatching the show will help cheer me up and turn the gears. Definitely missing Chris and Street a lot :(
2. so insanely real about rotting—same (and for the same reason). that said, idk if you were looking for street taking care of Chris on her period, but that’s what my brain assumed and I was too far into it to change when I realized maybe you meant a general illness 😅 (shameless plug of the two stris sickfics I do have on my ao3 if you were). anywho, i did lean in and manage to whip up a lil’ something that I hope fills the void/makes rotting slightly more enjoyable. untitled atm 🩵 below the cut!
For as independent as Chris is, being in a healthy, loving relationship with Jim Street means she can no longer hide one of her biggest desires behind walls of steel and fiery eyes. 
To be held. 
She’s always been liberal with physical touch, having no problem hanging off any of her former 20-Squad members when they hang out, or slinging an arm around her family after dinner. Street caught on early and took full advantage. It was easy in Black Betty’s close quarters, their legs and shoulders often brushing, and he wedged himself into her space around the table in Command during important debriefs. Her effort had to split between paying attention and not showing him how calm his warmth made her. 
He only gets clingier after they get together and he has full freedom to. His arms snake around her as she stands at the stove or the fridge, and their hands fit like puzzle pieces whenever they’re out together. She indulges him, tucking away how happy it makes her, and their shared smiles tell the other that they both know what’s going on, but neither are going to call it out. 
But the old habit of independence is one that still flares whenever Chris doesn’t feel well. Be it a sniffle or a hospital stay, the last thing she wants is anyone to see her weak, beyond her own sensibilities. So when one of the worst periods she’s had in recent memory falls upon her, all her instincts scream at her to hole up alone in her room and ride out the waves in isolation. 
She wakes with a groan on the second morning of it. Her cramps are already attacking her muscles, making it hard to sleep even though there’s another half hour before her alarm goes off. Hot water provides some relief, though not enough to squeeze herself into jeans when her leggings are clean. Despite not having Street stay over, secretly glad he drew the short stick on babysitting a minor drug runner in interrogation, his hoodie is still there from a few nights ago, and she tugs it on like it’s hers. 
Have a good day, love you. She shoots off the text, downs two painkillers, and holds back a groan when her body protests the weight of her backpack on her shoulder. Sighing, she grabs her keys from the hook and heads to her truck, hoping it’s an easy day at the safe house. 
Between her physical discomfort, the stress of 20-Squad’s mission as it played out on the news, and Marcos deciding it’s the perfect day to test her patience with the ridiculous claim that she can’t defend the safe house by herself if need be, it is not an easy day. Chris’s last hope clings on changing into sweats and curling up in bed with her lavender candle lit and some of her secret chocolate stash. Maybe, if she’s still feeling this shitty by the time she gets home, a good cry and a comfort movie. 
Her plan crumbles when she spies Street’s bike in the parking garage. Suddenly, her anxiety spikes as her head starts spinning with ways to not show him how bad she’s feeling. 
Not that he doesn’t know—her mortification at having to ask him to get her extra box of tampons from the guest bathroom still enough to make her cheeks burn red and not—but it’s never been this bad. Under mounting exhaustion, she doesn’t have the energy to grant it too much thought, and settles for muddling through the night of her hormones wreaking havoc on her, with elbows and knees if she has to, quietly. 
“Hey, Babe!” Street calls from the kitchen as soon as he hears the door open. “Lasagna’s almost done.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he notices the tight set of her smile and the slight flush on her cheeks. He narrows his eyes but she’s down the hallway too fast for him to notice much else. His worry grows when she hasn’t returned five minutes after the oven dings, and the dish is abandoned on the stove while he quietly closes one of the cabinets, slipping something into his pocket, and knocks lightly on her door. 
As hard as she tries, her walls tumble down the moment she’s in the comfort of her bedroom. She doubles over, gripping the vanity for strength, when a new wave of cramps crashes over her in the bathroom, and she can’t lie to herself enough to think anything sounds appetizing. Her intentions are still to change and go meet Street at the table, but she sits on the edge of her bed for a second to gather herself, and winds up under the covers before she can stop herself.
“Chris? Baby?” He says through the door. “Can I come in?” 
The groan-whimper that escapes as she curls into an even tinier ball is all the answer he’ll accept, pushing the door open. His face softens at the sight of her, laughing at how she tries to bury herself under the covers like that will keep her from seeing her. 
A big part of him wishes she could just let herself accept the comfort she gives everyone else, but he respects and loves the fighter in her too much to ever make an issue of it. Instead, he parks himself on the edge of her bed and pulls a small piece of chocolate out of his pocket, the crinkle catching her attention. 
“Think this’ll help?” He teases, smile growing at the furrow of her brows. “I may’ve hid in the hallway after the last grocery trip until I saw your hiding spot.” 
“You’re the worst,” she says gruffly, but rips open the wrapper and savors the sweetness all the same. It’s a salve on her heart. Nerves calming at his correct read on the situation, he drops a kiss to her forehead and stands. 
“I’ll be right back.” 
He keeps his promise, and brings a laundry list of items with him. A tub of chocolate covered almonds is set next to a mug of peppermint tea on her nightstand. Fishing around the drawer, he exclaims victory when his hand curls around the familiar plastic of a lighter that he uses to light the candle on her dresser so a light layer of lavender fills the space, enough to soothe but not make eyes water. Finally, he plugs in the heating pad and hands it to her to adjust it to where she wants, and then pulls back her comforter to drape the lush green quilt, something Helena knit before she was born that’s long been her favorite blanket, in its place. The comforter does cover that, but she fists the knit up to her neck, settling into it. 
Satisfied that she’s taken care of and sure she wants a few moments, he leaves her again, just long enough to eat. The lasagna is as delicious as he expected, and he’s glad she’ll have something hearty whenever she does feel like eating. With a bottle of water tucked under his arm, he heads back to her room, not even bothering with a knock this time since he heard the familiar dun dun come down the hallway. 
She’s half-propped on the pillows, the cord of the heating pad making it clear she’s situated it over her stomach. The empty bowl and mug are a relief, and he wastes no time sliding in next to her. Relishing the feeling of being in bed next to Chris, a feeling that will never get old no matter the circumstance, he lets the weight of his own day fall off into nothing. 
“Do you need anything else?” He murmurs, and kisses her head. 
“No, thank you.” Chris’s voice is small, an edge of shame to her tone, and he just pulls her from the pillows to lean against him, and meets their lips again. 
“Let me know if you do. Law and Order, really?” 
Nudging him, she gives up quickly in favor of crossing her legs over his. His arm around her is the nicest thing she’s felt all day, she realizes, and the only thing she wants to feel for the foreseeable future. 
“Don’t make fun of me.” She mumbles into his shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen. He finds one of her hands and intertwines their fingers, squeezing.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” When he tries to part them so he can draw tender circles on her stomach, she lets out a noise of protest and tightens her grip. He switches to grazing his thumb over her knuckles, a motion as constant as the waves. 
They make it halfway through the episode until a new knot forms inside her lower abdomen and she curls forward, struggling to breathe deep and slow. Street follows her body with his, as if he can form a wall of protection around her. 
“I’m sorry, Baby,” he whispers in her ear. “It’ll pass.”
She focuses on his voice and nods. Gritting her teeth, it takes a moment, but it does pass, and she straightens up with a low breath. His fingers rake through her hair while her bones creak back into place.
“Thanks.” She whispers, hating the tears in her voice but not enough to try to fight them. And then she adds, “for being here.” 
Cradling her face, heart swelling at how she leans into his touch, he finds her gaze and pours as much love as he can through his own. 
“I’ll always be here. I love you.” 
Their limbs tangle until she’s swathed in his embrace, his presence around her as soft a cloud that fills all her cracks and turns them to gold. She cracks a small smile as old habits start to thaw. 
“I love you, too.” 
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acepandemi · 3 months ago
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Tw: phobias, dentist
I'm currently considering the sheer annoyance that comes with developing a phobia later in life.
Like, I was able to do this Thing for years without issue, and now I suddenly can't anymore? What kind of nonsense is this?
It's the dentist, in my case. For 30 years I had no issue whatsoever going to the dentist, not even a hint of nervousness or apprehension. Which was a good thing, as I have problem teeth (prone to cavities and refusing to grow straight) and needed a LOT of dental work over the years. I've had more cavities filled than I can count, had three different kinds of braces in my early teens (including the external kind, fun times), still have retainers (which have broken twice so far), had a root canal treatment once and even had two of my wisdom teeth removed (I only have/had three and the third refuses to descend, but that also means it doesn't cause issues... yet). No problem at all. Easy peasy lemon sqeezy.
And now I can't even look up some info on my dentist's web page without having the worst panic attack in years? What the flippin' flip?
I've had arachnophobia (fear of spiders) all my life, never really put any thought into it, it was just a part of me. But this, this is something different. It's just happening and getting worse, and yeah there's anxiety and tears and stress.
But it's also just so, so annoying!!! It's just the dentist! The dentist is nice, the dentist is there to help you, going to the dentist has never been a problem ever, and now suddenly it is? This is just stupid!
And the worst part is, it's not even anyones fault. Nobody did anything wrong, The Incident was just sheer dumb luck, but it somehow ruined everything.
(I needed yet another cavity filled about two years ago, and for some reason the anesthetic stopped working mid-procedure. They gave me two more doses, which didn't make any difference, and couldn't give me anymore because, you know, health concerns. But they had to finish the filling, they couldn't send me home with a gaping hole in my tooth. Everyone was so nice and apologetic, but that didn't help because it hurt. So. Bad. I was literally screaming in the chair [think I traumatized a few people in the waiting room that day]. Filling did get finished and I was sent home with so many apologies, and I really don't hold it against the dentist or anyone else, or even dentists in general. But, as is usually the case with me, there was a delayed reaction.)
And now I apparently have a phobia of the dentist. I get tense before my appointments, I've had meltdowns in The Chair because everything about the dentist is now triggering, I've even nearly hit the poor dentist, who is a very nice woman and didn't deserve that. because she startled me with a piece of equipment I was unfamiliar with (she didn't know that, fight or flight response kicked in). Last time the dental hygienist couldn't finish cleaning my teeth because I couldn't take it anymore and had a panic attack. And I've already re-scheduled my latest periodical check-up twice because the thought of going gives me such bad anxiety.
I never used to be like this, and I can't stand it! I wonder if this is how Mum felt after she developed claustrophobia?
(Yes, I know I need to deal with this. I've discussed it with my counselor and we're looking into options. There's apparently a specialized dentist/therapist sort of person at the local hospital that she accompanies another client to that might be able to help. I've already switched dentists when I moved back to my hometown, so that's not the solution.)
I just needed to vent about my annoyance with the situation. I never realized that particular emotion could be involved with developing a phobia.
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hernakedmuse · 1 year ago
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Speaking in Tongues
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Part I
Disclaimer: Not proofread and inappropriate content I guess.
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Minka's POV
I never tire of premieres. In high school everyone looked forward to the prom, why they looked forward to seeing all your peers on a Saturday, finding the ugliest dress in the store and being monitored by teachers while horrible music played was beyond me. Even in my adolescence I fantasized of premieres instead, spending forever in mamusia's room putting on her makeup and perfume, her dresses and pretending to be interviewed by E! and whoever was hosting the Oscars or the Academy Awards. 
My favorite part was always choosing what to wear, fashion is like art to me. You don't just choose what looks cute you  choose a palette, a theme, what will make your body flow and strut naturally. It is choosing your personality and displaying your interests, even a simple pair of nomination jeans with a t shirt and a pair of docs decide what you feel for that person and who they are.
I'm the only celebrity without a stylist, dressing myself and doing my hair and makeup is an emotional thing for me, maybe it's the punk rock roots from my now teaching father, but I don't even go to get my hair done. My signature black, bob is of my doing.
It's why there's so much footage of me on camera weeping whenever my ensemble is complimented, I put so much thought and heart into it. 
Tonight, beside my friend and director, James, presenting the premiere of Spellbound  at the Houdini mansion, I was Minka Farrah, but I was Minka Farrah inspired by Miranda, my malevolent two faced witch, the character I played in the film. 
It was a risk to wear the gloves but once I slid them on, it made my Morticia tight dress  pop, and with their occult imagery they too told the story. No one could hardly believe I had bought them off etsy, handcrafted and one of a kind, I made sure to heavily promote the artist behind them.
I felt so much worry and anxiety with this movie, like any remake. Yes the name is a tad different and James added and took away some things but, it's a classic, a niche cult classic, but a classic all the same. I worked so hard to be the perfect Miranda, taking from the original played by the late Kelly Preston, I also took inspiration from Lisle von Rhuman, and funny enough Miranda from the film Miranda about the mermaid. I was ridiculously overjoyed with the wonderful feedback I got in return. 
I was on cloud nine tonight, and then my confidence faded when Tom told me Timothée Chalamet was here tonight. I nearly threw up, that wicked Saxon, he knows the crush I harbor for the greatest actor of our generation. Longing was more a fitting word. He's the first boy in a while who's made me feel…well to not put it lightly, horny, the word ecstasy, inadequate, and…longing, all at once. I don't just want him to hold my throat during a movie, I don't just want him to fill anything considered a hole in me, I don't just want to talk about our influences, I want him to consume me and devour me. 
I have never met him, ever. But my brother, Stone, one day mentioned me as his favorite actor or actress of all time on Graham Norton's Show, and at the time I had no idea who he was. So Stone put on Call Me by your Name, and then showed me his Tumblr and the entire Chalaverse and I was hooked. I was very judgmental before watching his Little Women Christian Bale was the only Laurie for me I swore by him, but Timothée Chalamet ruined that for me. I think I went crazy for him watching him play Laurie.
And he's so gorgeous, long and tall and lean, I love skinny partners because it makes their shoulders and hands look even bigger, not the only reason but it's a major one. His hair is romantic and long and curly and just.. he's perfect, his mannerisms his voice, he has me hooked. And to hear that he's here…I mean it makes sense, he's Tom's friend. 
I hoped I looked good enough, when I think of him I feel too big for my hair…what if he likes long hair on girls…thankfully there was another photo op with James to distract me, I felt in my element until I turned around to whoever asked for my attention. "Yes?" I still wore a red painted smile laced with a laugh, and when I turned around it fell the mask fell because there he was, and looking at him and smelling his cologne and knowing he approached ruined my Agent Provocateur thong.
I was breathless, speechless.  I said nothing and just nodded with a smile.  
He tugged his bottom lip in with his teeth and I stared for a moment. "I thought y-you w-were– I mean–" he laughed breathily and ran a hand through his messy curls and I felt light headed. I sucked on my lip and he stared at me for a moment and I must have looked confused because he started to talk again. 
''I'm sorry, I'm sorry  I'll uh– I'll leave you alone." Before I could even scream for him to stop saying that I never want him to leave me alone, he walked away disappearing in the sea of tuxedos and gowns. What did I say?
Feeling disappointed, I made a beeline to the wine, I had the bartender fill up my glass all the way to the top with red champagne. My favorite, Chandon's red champagne, was a Shiraz of strawberry, raspberry, and cherry notes. It was my absolute favorite and right now I was going down as much as I could to forget how I ran off Timothée Chalamet.
Did I offend him? What was it?
Two glasses of red Chandon later we were heading to the after party at Chateau Marmont .
I was in the middle of talking to Lana when Tom walked up to me. "Hey, what did you do to Timothée?" 
I looked confused. I felt confused. "I didn't say one word to him."
''Exactly!"
I furrowed my brows "Tom, sweetie I'm not following."
Tom laughed.  "He thinks he offended you or annoyed you. But knowing how you feel about him, it's all starting to make sense." He smirked.
"Oh my God, shut up!" I squealed, which made him laugh louder. "I'll go talk to him, God he must think I'm such a snob!" Why did I have to get starstruck?
"No, no, he just thinks…." But Tom stopped himself, trailing off. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "Tom…"
Lana laughed. "Oh I think I know…" She and Tom exchanged a look and a brow waggle before laughing and I let out a cry of frustration.  "I hate you both, tell me right now!"
They just laughed harder and I shook my head. "Whatever, I'm going to apologize, do I look okay?" I gestured to my ensemble, honestly no one can say I didn't stick with the theme of the movie, it was an ode to Matt and Miranda's bdsm scene when she gave Matt the false sense of hope that he was in charge of their "relationship". It's a black latex suit, arm, body neck, everything covered, even had on fetish boots, but my breasts were completely out and my nipples covered with black latex pasties to match my black painted lips.
Tom choked on his drink as Lana eyed me with a slow and appreciative nod. "Minka bloody Farrah, the only person on the entire planet that stands there posing shy and cutesy in a fucking bdsm body suit asking if she looks okay!" He laughed in disbelief.
I pouted. "A simple yes would have sufficed.'' He shook his head. "Where is he?" I asked.
"In the bathroom having a smoke." I took a deep breath, some of Tom's IPA and headed to the French styled bathroom.  I knocked and a muffled "Occupied.' Spoke through the door.
"Um Timothée? It's me, uh Mink-" Before I could get my name out the door was opened and he stood there towering over me gorgeously in all his Capricorn glory, a black vintage fit blazer open, a white tooth shirt and faded jeans with combat boots, a necklace wrapped around his neck seductively and rings adorned the long, skeletal fingers that held a cigarette. He smelled like a writer, cigarettes, espresso, and alcohol. There was a spicy cologne with a hint of sweetness and a small amount of sweat. I wanted to eat him. His verdant eyes were naturally and dreamily hooded, but right now a little wide as his raspberry lips hung parted.  
I blinked and bit my lip as I twisted my fingers. "I wanted to apologize, Tom told me you thought you annoyed me–"
"I'm gonna kill Tom-"
"But you didn't! I was just…I love your acting so much, I was caught off guard…I'm so sorry, I can't believe I was so rude–"
"N-No, you weren't. " He finished softly with a breathy laugh before leaning against the doorframe. Stop posing or I'll drop to my knees.
I felt elated when I noticed his eyes roam my outfit, but then a little fear lingered in those depths of satisfaction. What if he thinks I'm too easy? He probably likes classy girls, he dated Lily-Rose Depp for God's sake. 
"You like my acting?" A smile tilted his lips up.
I shrugged with a smile. "You probably hear that all the time." His eyes drifted from my mouth to my pasties, maybe I should have worn something else.
But he stepped aside and gestured in. "Please, join me, there's a lovely seat on the toilet."
I giggled. "But then where will you sit?" 
"In the tub of course."
@meetmyothersouls @sufferingstarlight
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