#it's beautiful and heartbreaking and lovely

[bookwormjust]

A little haircut (established relationship with Cassian, long hair to short hair)

You stood in front of the mirror, running your fingers through the newly cut curls framing your face. Your hair, once long and cascading down your back, now sat just above your shoulders, the bouncy curls still intact but giving you a completely different look. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision—a change you'd wanted for a while. And while you loved the way it looked, you couldn’t help but wonder how Cassian would react when he saw it.

The front door opened, and you heard his heavy boots thudding on the floor as he came in from a long day of training. You could feel his presence, strong and familiar, filling the house. You turned away from the mirror, anticipation fluttering in your stomach as you waited for him to come find you.

“Sweetheart, where are you?” Cassian called out, his voice warm as ever.

“Bedroom,” you replied, trying to keep the smile from creeping into your voice.

A moment later, he appeared in the doorway, but the moment his eyes landed on you, he froze. His jaw literally dropped as he stared at your short hair, his hazel eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He blinked once, twice, as if trying to process what he was seeing.

“Wha—what happened to your hair?” Cassian finally asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and something almost like heartbreak. He took a step closer, his eyes still locked on your now short, curly locks. “Where’s all of it?”

You chuckled softly, reaching up to fluff your curls playfully. “It’s still here, Cass. Just… a little less of it.”

He blinked again, stepping even closer as if inspecting you. His hands hesitated by his sides, like he wasn’t sure whether to touch or just stand there in shock. “But… it was so long and—” His voice broke slightly, and he looked at you with something almost like sadness. “I loved your long hair.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, a mix of disbelief and genuine emotion. “Cassian, it’ll grow back. I just wanted a change.”

He blinked again, as if he still couldn’t quite comprehend it. His hand finally reached out, gently touching a curl that now barely reached your shoulder. “But it’s so short,” he murmured, his voice quiet, as though the loss of your hair had left him in mourning.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the giggle that threatened to escape. “It’s still hair, Cass. Just… less of it.”

Cassian let out a dramatic sigh, dropping his hand to his side and shaking his head, though there was a playful glint in his eyes now. “I wasn’t ready for this,” he muttered, as if it were the most serious thing in the world. “No warning, no preparation.”

You laughed, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I didn’t realize you were so attached to my hair.”

Cassian wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. “I was,” he said, his voice soft now, teasing but still affectionate. “But I guess I’ll get used to it. You look beautiful, as always.”

You smiled into his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love in his words. “You really like it?” you asked, a little more seriously

[unlosts]

two slow dancers, last ones out

Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.

2k words

The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense. 

Not that you were bitter about it. 

At all. 

Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will. 

The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ. 

Again, not that you were bitter about it. 

After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted. 

And you had come to terms with it. 

Really. 

The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination. 

The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time. 

It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay. 

With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from  your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine. 

The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets. 

He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden. 

But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.  

“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless. 

An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently. 

“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes. 

“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow. 

“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”

“Huh, go figure”

“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point. 

“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table. 

Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate. 

“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like. 

“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”

“Even you?” 

He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter. 

“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it” 

“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about. 

“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away” 

“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that. 

“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off. 

“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”

“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?” 

“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team. 

He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. 

“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away. 

“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?” 

“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here. 

“Yeah”

“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”

“Yeah” 

After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly

“I would have wanted to”

He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway. 

You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place. 

You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.

“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now” 

“It’s not that easy” 

“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is” 

He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him. 

“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever” 

He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist

“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again” 

“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you” 

“Momentary lapse in judgment”  You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?” 

“...Yes”   Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying. 

 You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you. 

From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is. 

“What about you?” 

“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays. 

“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have

“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever” 

“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper. 

“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room” 

“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”

“Could be” You concede. 

Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.

From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles.  You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that. 

[see-arcane]

It's a special day in Dracula!

Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.

But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…

Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde

My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.

But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)

Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan

Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.

Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?

Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue

What’s this? An OC?

Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.

She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.

Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand

The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…

She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.

…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.

So.

How does Miss Marchand’s story go?

Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.

You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.

Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)

Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)

Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 

Werewolf free space.

[clegfly]

Hey guys would it be cool if I killed myself right fucking now

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Hoshina knew better than to get romantically involved with a subordinate, but he sees you in a different light, the object of his desires.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Soshiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8)

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4 k

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader. (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (fem receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, fingering.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is a very late submission for the pixel-cafe's "Challenge Friday", and this challenge was music-themed! *ahem* shameless plug just in case anyone was thinking of joining. *ahem*. I had so much fun with this, I lucked out with one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite artists. So naturally I had to use it to try out a new character from a new fandom I'm so in love with him someone save me. Anywhosies, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊. 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖘𝖍𝖊,𝖘 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖊𝖉.

He knew he shouldn’t, knew that in this line of work romance should be off the table. Knew that at any moment either of you could killed in the line of duty. Feelings in your profession were thoughtless, illogical, and just downright stupid. Why would he put his heart into someone he could lose at any moment? Why would he jeopardize your heart in the event he was the one to meet his end. The idea of losing you alone already had a painful pinch blossoming in his chest, he knew he should stop this, but even he knew it was too late. Knew you both were long past the point, even if a heartbreak was temporary, you both cared for each other too much. Even if separated you both cared for each other too much to not be shattered by the loss of the other.

But those thoughts are quickly shoved to the wayside, thoughts like that had no room in his head, not when he felt your body on his. Not when the both of you snuck out of your rooms in the dead of night. Not when he shut the door to the library with your back, his mouth finding yours hungrily in a desperate kiss. And certainly not when he let out an arms to swipe the contents of a table, uncaring of the clatter of books falling to the ground. Pushing you to lay against the cool wood, hiking your thighs around his waist.

“So fucking beautiful.” His words are muffled against your lips, breathless, barely getting them out before he's claiming your lips once more. The kiss was a mess of tongues and clashing teeth, the both of you unfathomably filled with need. A magnetic pull drew you to each other, unable to be separated until you were both satiated. His lips trailed down the side of your face to your neck. Open-mouthed kisses left in their wake, sharp canines finally sinking into your tender flesh. He hadn’t realized how hard he had bitten down, not until the metallic taste filled his taste buds. His wet muscle swiping against your skin, a tender kiss almost an apology against the afflicted area. But he couldn’t deny the knowledge that he had left his mark on you didn’t send blood rushing to his cock. The thought of anyone who was suspicious that you were taken would now have confirmation.

“Fuck kitten, I need you.” His own voice sounded foreign to his own ears, the need-filled husk making it sound octaves deeper. Hands tugged desperately at each other’s clothing, the overwhelming need to feel each others skin was all-consuming. He needed a taste of you, his mouth going dry with the need to taste you on his tongue. He was grateful you had forgone sleep pants, clad only in an oversized tshirt, one that made it oh so easy to slide your panties down your thighs. He gripped the damp material, unable to stop himself from pressing the fabric to his nose. Eyes locked on yours as he inhaled, relishing in the way you looked away from him in embarrassment, your cheeks darkening with a flush. He lets out a long drawn-out sigh, pocketing the article of clothing for later. “God, kitten, smell so fucking good. Let's see if you taste even better yeah?”

His hand trails down your body, long fingers sliding between your folds, collecting your arousal. His lips leave yours, parting only to whisper “You’re this wet already? Is this for me, kitten?” He purrs needing to hear you say it. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as a delicious whine fills his ears. “Its for you Shiro, all for you.” Those words pull a malicious smirk onto his features, his other hand coming down against the plush skin of your ass in a harsh slap, his lips swallowing the gasp you let slip at the impact. Seizing this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth once more.

𝕴’𝖒 𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖚𝖕 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖎𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊. 𝕴 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖇𝖏𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊.

His fingers glided against your clit, easily with the aid of your own slick arousal, rubbing tight circles before letting a finger slip past your entrance. Your warm velvety walls sucking in his finger, hugging the digit as if begging for more. He slides in another finger with ease, pulling from the kiss as he dropped to his knees before you. His eyes locked to where his fingers disappeared inside you, his heart racing in his chest. He leans back, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand pulling his fingers from your core, rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives down, burying this face into your folds.

His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in. “Shiro, please!” You cry, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. “What does my pretty kitten need, hmm?” he hums, lips curled into a malicious smirk “You know you need to use your words and ask your vice captain how he can service you angel.”

“Please Shiro need more, fingers, please fuck me with your fingers vice captain!” You cried out, voice laced with desperation, hips wiggling wantonly in search of any kind of friction to your throbbing clit. He grinned, pulling away to bite harshly on your thigh, his title moaned from your lips did something to him. “Now how could I say no to such a pretty request?” He coos before plunging two fingers back inside your cunt. His lips attach themselves to your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud, nipping occasionally as he eats your pussy with a deep seeded hunger. The way your walls clamped down on his fingers as they pumped inside of you let him know you were reaching your first orgasm of the evening. He curls the digits, focusing on that spongey spot that has your vision going white. His words spoken against your pussy as he speaks. “Go on kitten, cum for me, cum for your vice captain.”

His words are the anchor that sent you plummeting to your release, the coil tightening in the depths of your stomach, moments from snapping. “Shiro, please, fuck fuck fuck!” You can feel his lips curl into a grin against you, other hand coming up to pin your hips to the cool wood of the table. His fingers work in tandem with his tongue, the cold of his fingers perfectly contrasting with the warmth of his mouth. You were thrown over the edge, walls suffocating his digits as they spasmed around his fingers. Your hips bucking desperately against his face as you rode out your orgasm.

Coming down from your high, you catch your breath, your chest rising and falling heavily as he stands to his feet. Hoshina slips his fingers from inside of you, cradling your still-shaking form to his chest, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture. Only to lean down, lips brushing the shell of your ear to whisper. “Well now that we’ve gotten our warmup all done, you ready for the main event kitten?” the fingers of his free hand deftly freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. Quick to rub the head of his cock against your clit a few times before moving down to probe your entrance. Sure, rational thought would tell him that getting involved with you was a mistake. But, as he watched you writhe beneath him, looking up at him desperately through your lashes he couldn’t determine if you were born in hell or heaven-sent, but either way he was into it.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Character banner and writing by me. Tagging @pixelcafe-network.

[malopascal]

One shot: we found our way back to each other

"Can we please just talk..." Pedro begged, his eyes looking so tired and his composure exposing nothing but defeat and heartbreak.

A sigh left your painted lips as you avoided his begging gaze, looking through the room of his sister's home, silently missing the hours the two of you had spent in here, laughing, talking and making love.

"Talk about what? You told me two months ago that you weren't ready for a relationship, that I should find someone else who could settle down", you purposely threw Pedro's words back to him in hopes that they would also cause him the same pain it caused you eight weeks ago.

You finally focused your eyes on the Chilean actor and saw how he closed his eyes in shame and shook his head. "You're trying to kill me, mi amor" he whispered before opening his eyes.

"No, you killed me with those words. I thought that I had meant something to you, we had spend four months together, making all these beautiful memories that I can never forget", you spat as tears started to brim your eyes.

"I know, I know (Y/N)...".

"No, you don't. You don't know that I've been faking a smile for weeks, pretending that my life is so fucking awesome and continuing to work like you didn't rip my heart out of my chest, Pedro".

The actor took a step closer to you and quickly took your soft hand in his, his eyes were begging you to take him back. "Words can't describe how foolish I was. I thought that I had made the right decision, allow you to go and be free before my crazy and hectic life would get in between us, and we'd be forced to break up anyway...".

His words made you frown as you slowly shook your head in disbelief.

"Bullshit, Pedro. I accompanied you while you worked and traveled, still made time for my own life and friends and family and not once did I ever voice or think that your celebrity life would become too much for me...How could you make this decision for yourself and then punish me for it?", the tears were now streaming down your face, the aching pain in your chest making it hard for you to focus as you stared at your love. The betrayal still sat deep in your soul and you wondered if you could ever get past this.

"You tossed me aside for nothing, based on assumptions...And then you moved on like we never happened, like I didn't give all my love to you!" you couldn't help but increase the volume of your voice as you finally had the chance to speak about your heartbreak.

After Pedro had suddenly broken up with you through a quick phone call, he had blocked you and went on a promotional tour of his upcoming projects, making you feel lost and abandoned while he continued to live his life in front of the cameras.

Since the two of you were able to keep your relationship private, due to the fact that you were an actress as well, barely anyone noticed how you were crumbling and pretending like you hadn't lost the greatest love of all time.

"My love, I-" Pedro chocked back on a sob before clearing his throat and wrapping his strong arms around your waist, still looking at you like you were the only, most precious thing walking the earth.

"I just wanna know why. Why did you get rid of me like that?" you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, hating how your heart skipped a beat and a delicate sensation of adoration rushed through your body. You knew that touching him alone would have you weak, but in that moment, you didn't care at all.

"I'm almost fifty, it's been years since I had a serious relationship (Y/N), I have anxiety and assumed that it would take a few more weeks before you would get sick and tired of me and my job and leave me..." the actor confessed with a heavy heart.

"But I can't describe the agony I have been in ever since we parted ways. All I can do is think and yearn for you", his beautiful brown eyes gazed deeply into yours while he leaned in closer, his breath dancing along your lips as you let out a soft sigh. God, that man still had you so crazy in love and a part of you thought that he'd try to make up sappy excuses and then leave you alone.

"I am so sorry for what I did, and I know you're just as heartbroken as I am. It's my duty to earn your trust back and show you the blessing that you are to me. Please...." Pedro leaned in and pressed his soft lips against yours, frowning at the pure sensation of your soft lips against his. You pulled away, your head spinning from the passion while you stared deeply into his eyes, your breath coming out in short puffs as you were overwhelmed.

"Please what?" you exhaled as the tension in the room shifted from sad to something else.

He leaned in again, stealing another passionate kiss while his arms pulled your body closer to his. That's when you noticed something throbbing against your lower stomach. You couldn't help but let out a weak moan as your body was succumbing to this man.

"Allow me to win your trust back and show you that I am your man. Yours." Pedro whispered, his breathing increasing by the second as the two of you stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The wetness already had gathered in between your thighs as all you could now think about was feeling him move deep inside you, have him fill you up all the way and talk you through the sensual acts of love.

"I-" Pedro didn't even let you finish your sentence before he had stolen another kiss from your lips, his tongue tracing your lower lip and silently asking for permission. Which you instantly granted.

His big hands immediately started to roam your body, caressing your breasts and shoulders while he moved the two of you towards the bed.

He kissed your neck after having placed you gently onto the mattress, your silky black cocktail dress already being torn from your body. "I need to taste you", he begged.

You instantly opened your legs and quickly got rid of your thong before your love had his head position in between your thighs. "You're so wet" he praised while giving you a soft smile, leaning in closer to where you needed him the most before darting his tongue out and flicking your sensitive clit.

"Yes", you mewled while throwing your head back, your wetness sliding down your inner thighs while your love instantly got to work and devoured you right then and there. His eyes didn't dare to move away from your face as he needed to look at you. He needed the assurance that he was pleasing you, giving himself to you.

He licked and lapped at your swollen clit and drenched folds, dipping his tongue into your hot and wet cunt, loving the way you weakly moaned his name and grind your hips in sync of his movements. Behind your clenched eyelids, you saw stars as the pleasure took over your mind, body and soul.

"You taste divine" Pedro whispered, moaning your name over and over again while his eyes still didn't look elsewhere. He had always been in awe of your beauty and knowing that no other had seen you like this was making his heart swell in his chest with pride.

Before you knew it, your love was kissing his way up your body, positioning himself in between your thighs while he quickly got rid of his dress shirt and freeing his hard cock from its tight pants.

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn't help but moan at the sight of Pedro staring down at your face, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight of you. It took him a few seconds to let his hard cock slide up and down your folds, gathering the slick wetness before whispering how much he loved you.

You couldn't even answer as the sensation of his cock slowly sinking deep inside you overwhelmed you. Your inner walls welcomed the hardness as they stretched and took him deeper. A weak moan left your lips.

"I missed you so much" you chocked out before the first stroke hit you. Pedro closed his eyes and immediately started to snap his hips against yours, hitting your sweet spot over and over again while having leaned down and now gently kissing and sucking on your sensitive neck.

The pure pleasure raging over your body was too much.

The feeling of him buried deep inside you...

His weak moans of your name...

The quick motions of your body desperately wanting to reach that beautiful high together.

It was all too much.

Your toes curled as you felt the delicious knot form in the pit of your stomach, your inner walls were clenching onto your love's cock for dear life while the delicate shivers running up and down your back made it hard for you to focus on anything.

"I am right here, my love. Come on, take all of me and show me you love it. Take it all, it's all yours" Pedro groaned, his hips snapping faster against yours while his hand was now circling your sensitive clit, making the knot tighter and tighter by the second.

You clung onto his broad shoulders as the next deep thrust threw you into the wild, gushing and overwhelming peak. Your orgasm rippled through your body and you couldn't control it. Your inner walls clenched tightly around Pedro's cock as his warm spurts filled you all the way up. That man was almost screaming your name as he continued thrusting his hips in a sloppy manner, wanting this intense and beautiful sensation to never stop.

The weak moans leaving your lips grew softer by the second while the tremors of your high tingled through your body. Your eyes slowly opened and Pedro's adoring smile made your heart swell in your chest.

"I love you'" he confessed.

"I love you too" you responded in a soft huff, still trying to catch your breath.

[asksythe]

Imprisoned-Fairy-King-of-the-Nameless-Woods Oberon x Magic Victorian Sheltered Maiden Riri! Commed art. Artist: 婕珍

Why does not only my husband but also my fellow shipper in the VN FGO fandom think Smolberon is hugging her boobage??!!! I swear it's a cute, innocent piece! 😥

Well, I guess if they are having fun and enjoying the artwork, that's fine.

In any case, I love Ritsuka in this blue dress. She looks so ladylike, so soft, tender, and sweet. Blue really suits her. Canon Ritsuka has to endure so much that it makes me want to give her the sweetest, most magical things. Haha! I tell you, this is what it's like to be a mama fan!

I want to write a 90s classic Shojo manga Cursed Fairy King Oberon x Victorian Noble Maiden Riri romance story!

Sheltered maiden Riri of the Chaldea noble lineage is born and reared her entire life in her parent's estate, never once allowed to step foot outside. On her 16th birthday, just a year before she debuts before high society, her parents allow her to leave the estate for the first time to go on a picnic in the prairie right outside the Nameless Woods. It is here that the Fairy King of the Nameless Woods sees her and becomes enchanted with the young girl. Deciding to pursue this beautiful mirage, the Fairy King disguises himself in a tiny form and flies through the girl's window, making fast friends with her.

In the classical 90s and early 2000s shojo manga traditions, this plot line marries elements of magical reality with everyday life and is a hybrid romance and a coming-into-oneself tale.

Fairy King Oberon's first impression of the girl in blue sitting in a field of yellow flowers is like seeing a young firebird in a gilded cage. Her impeccable wings have never taken to the skies. He is inexorably drawn to her and wants to see if she will take to the skies or fall into the mud and drown.

I also want to see how Ritsuka will develop in this kind of world and upbringing. Like classical shojo manga heroines, she will go through a lot of personal growth, stepping out of the pretty cage that defines her early life, weathering adversaries, maturing brilliantly and taking flight. That sort of incredibly empowering and magical 90s plotline!

In other words, it's a story of demure Victorian Ritsuka finding the strength of Canon Ritsuka and growing closer to her in another world.

@erimies asked: what about Oberon's role in the story? Is he going to be Tuxedo Mask?

Hahahahahahaha!!! No... I'm not about to waste such a wonderfully complex character in such simple, limited narrative roles.

I'm thinking, Oberon is probably the final big bad that Victorian Maiden Riri has to overcome. The Fairy King imprisoned in the Nameless Woods, whose terrible secret lies beneath a dreamlike fantasy. So, instead of Tuxedo Mask, he would be a forbidden love interest archetype, serving as the catalyst of the heroine's growth, the friend and confidante by her side, the betrayer that breaks her heart, and the final villain that she must overcome. Their love story would be a hybrid transitioning from sweet magic to heartbreak to falling love with the villain and then overcoming the villain.

Yes, very 90s Shojo!!! Also very Jareth and Sarah from Labyrinth! Much heart! Much ham! Magic, beautiful gowns, dances in the woods and in glittering ballrooms, heroine's journey, so on and so forth!!

Haaa... I really wish I knew Kage Bunshin no Jutsu, so I can write all these story ideas I have.

[lilsoftext]

•~*BETWEEN THE FLASHES*~• part 2

part 1

-chris sturniolo x female reader

-summery: ??

——————————————————————————

Sof woke up early, the light filtering through the curtains of Chris’s room. She lay there for a moment, listening to the gentle sound of his breathing beside her. Chris was still asleep, his arm loosely draped over her waist. Normally, she would have cherished these quiet moments, but today, her mind was spinning. Today was the day they would announce their relationship to the world, and she couldn’t shake the anxious thoughts swirling in her head.

She slipped carefully out of bed, trying not to wake Chris. Moving to the window, Sof gazed out at the early morning sky, her thoughts racing. *What would people think?* The questions were endless. She knew how much Chris cared for her, and that should’ve been enough to calm her nerves, but the weight of it all—the public’s reaction, the media’s interpretation, and most of all, Matt—sat heavy in her chest.

Matt had been quiet lately, and Sof wasn’t oblivious to his feelings. She could see the sadness in his eyes, the way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching. It was heartbreaking in its own way, and even though Matt would never say anything, Sof feared how this announcement would affect him.

She heard Chris stirring behind her, and before she could let her worries consume her any further, he woke up, smiling sleepily. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice raspy with sleep.

Sof forced a smile. “Good morning.” She leaned down to kiss his forehead, then quickly headed toward the bathroom, not wanting him to see the turmoil on her face. “I’m going to shower.”

Chris watched her leave, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, but he didn’t press her. He knew something was on her mind, but Sof was the type to process things on her own first. He’d talk to her when she was ready.

---

Downstairs, Nick and Matt were already in the kitchen when Chris walked in, still stretching and yawning.

“Mornin’,” Nick said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Big day, huh? You ready to finally make it official?”

Chris chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, man. It’s about time.”

Matt glanced up from his coffee, his eyes betraying the lighthearted tone he tried to use. “How’s Sof feeling about it?”

Chris sighed, leaning against the counter. “She’s a little worried, honestly. You know how she is—she doesn’t love all the attention, and this is gonna bring a lot of it.”

Matt nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. It’s a big deal for her.”

Before the conversation could go any further, Sof walked into the kitchen, her damp hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She smiled softly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey, guys.”

Nick immediately perked up, sensing the tension but doing his best to keep things light. “Sof! You ready for today? Gonna be fun, right?”

Sof gave him a small smile and nodded, though Chris could tell she was still feeling off. He reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We were just talking about how we’re gonna do this. I was thinking a vlog would be cool, you know? Something natural. No big sit-down, just us being us.”

Sof exhaled, relieved that the plan was simple. “Yeah, I like that. I think it’ll feel more... real that way.”

Nick nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect! So, where are we filming this thing? We need a good backdrop if we’re doing the big reveal.”

Chris grinned. “I was thinking we go somewhere cool—like the forest, that spot with the mountain lake and the waterfall. It’s beautiful, and it’s kinda... I don’t know, mysterious. Seems like the right vibe.”

Everyone agreed, though Matt remained quieter than usual. He nodded along but didn’t say much, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Sof noticed, and it only added to the mix of emotions swirling inside her.

---

They packed up and headed to the car, Nick excitedly grabbing the camera and turning it on as soon as they pulled out of the driveway. “Alright, guys, this is it! We’re going somewhere super sick today, and we might have a little surprise for you later, but you’ll have to wait and see.”

Chris laughed from the passenger seat, turning back to wink at Sof, who was sitting next to Matt in the back. She gave a small wave to the camera, but inside, her nerves were still buzzing. Chris sensed it and reached over to squeeze her knee, his touch grounding her for a moment.

The car ride was filled with chatter, mostly between Chris, Nick, and Sof. Matt, meanwhile, remained mostly quiet, his responses short but polite whenever Nick tried to rope him into the conversation. Chris caught his brother’s silence but didn’t comment on it, not wanting to create any more tension.

---

When they arrived at the forest, it was even more breathtaking than they had remembered. The towering trees gave way to a secluded path that led to a stunning lake, shimmering beneath the afternoon sun, and in the distance, the sound of a waterfall echoed through the trees. They all stood there for a moment, taking it in.

“Wow,” Sof whispered, her eyes wide. “It’s beautiful.”

Nick, ever the comic relief, grabbed the camera and pointed it at Chris. “How does it feel, bro? You about to make some history with this view in the background.”

Chris grinned. “It feels like the perfect place, honestly.”

They filmed a bit of them hiking down to the lake, with Chris and Nick goofing off for the camera. At one point, Chris even let out a wild scream, startling Sof and making everyone burst out laughing. It felt good to just be in the moment, even with the looming announcement.

When they reached the waterfall, everyone fell silent, the sheer beauty of it overwhelming them. The water cascaded down the rocks, mist rising in the air, and Chris couldn’t help but turn to Sof with a smile.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her aside as Nick continued filming some B-roll shots of the landscape.

“What?” Sof asked, a little confused.

Chris held up the camera like he was about to take a picture. “I want to get a photo of you here, for the vlog.”

Sof smiled and stood in front of the waterfall, but before she could pose, Chris lowered the camera, stepped up to her, and cupped her face gently in his hands. Without a word, he kissed her—softly, lovingly, as if telling her in that moment that everything would be okay.

Sof blinked in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss, her worries momentarily fading as Chris held her close. When they broke apart, he smiled down at her, his eyes full of warmth. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. “And I’m so glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

Sof’s heart swelled, and for the first time all day, she felt a sense of peace. They turned back to the camera, and Chris, still holding Sof’s hand, looked directly into the lens.

“Alright, guys,” Chris said, his voice steady but full of excitement. “So, we’ve got something we want to share with you... It’s official. Sof and I are together, and we’ve been for a while. We just didn’t feel ready to share it with the world until now.”

Sof smiled, squeezing Chris’s hand as he spoke.

Nick turned the camera back toward them, grinning. “And there it is! You heard it here first.”

Matt stood off to the side, watching quietly, his face unreadable. He gave them a small nod of support, but Sof could feel the tension radiating from him. She wished things could be different between them, but for now, she was focused on the moment with Chris.

---

When they stopped filming, the energy shifted again. Everyone piled back into the car, but the mood was quieter this time. Matt went straight to his room when they got home, while Nick eagerly started editing the footage for their next vlog.

Chris and Sof, sensing Matt needed some space, decided to head out for lunch. Sof was driving, the radio playing softly in the background as they cruised through LA. For the first time all day, Chris seemed completely relaxed. He glanced over at Sof, a grin spreading across his face.

“I’m really happy it’s out there now,” he said, his voice light with relief. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”

Sof smiled, her grip on the steering wheel loosening. “Me too. It feels... freeing.”

Chris reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers. “No more sneaking around. Just us.”

Sof nodded, feeling the weight of the day lift from her shoulders. The anxiety that had been gnawing at her all morning was finally gone, replaced by a quiet happiness. They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the city passing by in a blur as music filled the car, and for the first time in a long time, Sof felt truly at peace.

PART 3 IS COMING TOMORROW

——————————————————————————

part 3 is the last one so don’t miss it. if you have any request of them down below.

lilsoftext<3

[myhiddenquerencia]

Look at you, Wiping your own tears With the same hands That long to be held

Ayesha Zahra

[wormarchivist]

wild that nobody is talking about celeritas when scifi stories about family is literally one of the best genres of podcast

[emilybraydenblogs]

I confuse people. i have a happy personality and a sad soul. i'm bold but shy. i love deeply but sometimes i feel heartless. i'm healing and hurting at the same time. i'm dedicated to growth, but i self sabotage

[wolkenleere]

And I wondered what it was like to be chosen. I was never chosen. I was a maybe, a probably, sometimes even a definitely but never the one, never the chosen one.

Unknown

[nighttime-thoughts]

You stopped saying goodnight and i stopped sleeping.

[silent-insanities]

My heart can't handle another break.

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

Just because someone carries it well, doesn't mean it isn't heavy.

Christin Lewis

[mossy-woods]

love is everywhere