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acourtofthought · 2 months ago

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Lucien in Feral Mate mode:

Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.

Lucien was shaking his head, panting, and whirled to us. “Get her back,” he snarled at Tamlin over the ranting of the king. A mate—a mate already going wild to defend what was his.

Jurian stalked over to Lucien amid the rising squabble, laughing under his breath. “Do you know what Illyrian bastards do to pretty females? You won’t have a mate left—at least not one that’s useful to you in any way.” Lucien’s answering growl was nothing short of feral.

I was fairly certain that only centuries of training kept Lucien from leaping over the table to rip out Jurian’s throat.

Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart.

He paused right between them and said to me, to Nesta, “She needs fresh air.” “We’ll judge what she needs.” I could have sworn his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose. But it faded, his russet eye fixing on me. “Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.”

But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—

The words were little more than a growl.

His russet eye flashed with simmering rage. An uncontrollable instinct—for a mate to eliminate any threat.

Lucien in Calculating Mate mode:

“Forever,” I parroted, glancing behind—to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive. His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he’d seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop—and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate—Elain—again.

Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” I knew who he meant. I shook my head. “I don’t know. Rhysand has a hundred places where they could be, but I doubt he’d use any of them to hide Elain, knowing that I’m aware of them.” “Tell me anyway. List all of them.” “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.” “You couldn’t see that he had me in thrall. You let him take me back.” Lie, lie, lie. But the hurt and guilt I expected weren’t there. Lucien slowly released his grip. “I need to find her.”

Lucien in Respectful Mate mode:

“Is … is there anything I can get for you?” I’d never heard my friend’s voice so soft. So tentative and concerned.

The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain’s hands.

Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side.

“How is she?”

But is she still …” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Does she still mourn him?”

Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at that manor, he’d run into Elain’s former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair.

The bigger box is for you. The smaller one is for her.” It took me a heartbeat to realize he meant the presents. I glanced over my shoulder to the careful silver wrapping, the blue bows atop both boxes.

Lucien in Sad Mate mode:

Lucien leaned his head back against the rock wall behind us. “And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride.

Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing.

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

Lucien in Perfect Mate mode:

Water poured forth, Lucien hoisting Elain in his arms and out of the way.

he’d been more than happy to do so, given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.

“I’m a mated male now.”

But Lucien gripped my arm, halting me. “I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”

“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly. As if the death that squatted in the dark beside us had drawn his thoughts to his own mate as well.

But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

“Let me do something. About Elain.

“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”

“Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.

“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.”

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.

“I’m fine,” Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, “Are you—” “Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips.

Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #lucien supremacy #Literally the best mate in the series #Best mate ever actually

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enemiestolovershoe · 23 days ago

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JJ fox where you and JJ are awkwardly in love and both of you are in complete denial and are always saying things like “we’re just best friends” etc. until one day JJ’s in a bad motorcycle/dirt bike accident and you tell him you were scared of losing him, and he says something snarky like “I would never leave you on purpose” etc. fluffy fluff ending maybe, with the others at the end or something

Crash Into Love

Jj Maybank x bsf!reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: use of y/n, hospital, not proofread

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You and JJ had always been a pair. Growing up together on the Cut, your friendship was legendary. Everyone assumed you two were dating from the time you were kids, and even though you always laughed it off with, “Nah, we’re just best friends,” part of you wondered if they were right.

Lately, those feelings had been growing, making it harder to keep your true thoughts hidden. JJ’s cheeky grins, the way his hand lingered on your shoulder, or how his eyes softened when he looked at you—it was like he was hiding something, too. But neither of you ever brought it up. Why ruin what you had, right?

That all changed when John B’s number lit up your phone one afternoon. “JJ’s been in an accident,” he said, his voice panicked. “He was riding his dirt bike… I don’t know all the details, but he’s on his way to the hospital now.”

Your heart dropped.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your keys and bolted. The drive to the hospital was a blur; your hands were shaking, your mind running wild with fear. When you finally arrived, the others were already in the waiting room, looking grim.

“He’s stable,” Pope said quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “He’s banged up, but the doctors think he’ll be okay.”

That should’ve been reassuring, but it didn’t stop the ache in your chest.

After what felt like hours, they let you see him. When you entered the dim room, JJ was lying there, his blond hair messy against the pillow, bruises scattered across his face, and his left arm in a sling. For a moment, he looked so still it terrified you. Then he opened his eyes, and that familiar JJ grin crept onto his face.

“Oh, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he joked, wincing as he tried to sit up. “Missed me that much, huh?”

You huffed, blinking back tears. “Shut up, JJ. Do you know how scared I was?”

He shrugged, though he was clearly in pain. “Didn’t mean to freak you out. You know me, babe—always gotta keep things exciting.”

The word “babe” was so casual, so JJ, but this time, it sent a jolt through you. You moved to his bedside, trying to keep your voice steady. “Exciting? I thought you were dead! John B called, and I… I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again.”

JJ’s smirk softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing yours. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I would never leave you on purpose. You know that.”

You swallowed hard, his hand warm against yours. “Well, you better not, because… because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

JJ’s blue eyes held yours, and in that moment, it was like the world around you disappeared. There was no hospital, no bruises, just you and JJ in this unspoken space you’d been avoiding for years.

“Maybe you wouldn’t have to,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught, and without thinking, you leaned in. JJ’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips met his in a soft, tender kiss. His fingers brushed your cheek, and you could feel the smile against your lips, a smile that was all JJ.

It was like years of denial melted away in that kiss. All the playful “just friends” comments, the way you’d brushed off everyone’s suspicions—it all felt so silly now.

When you finally pulled away, JJ looked at you with that mischievous glint in his eye. “So… does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Maybe. If you behave.”

Before JJ could respond with some snarky comeback, the door creaked open, and you both froze.

There, in the doorway, were the Pogues—John B, Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and Cleo—all staring with wide eyes and identical, knowing smirks.

“Dude,” Pope started, grinning ear-to-ear, “finally! We thought you two would never get over yourselves!”

Kiara let out a laugh. “I mean, we’ve been waiting for this for years.”

JJ rolled his eyes, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Oh, shut up, all of you. Let a man recover in peace, will ya?”

John B chuckled, stepping further into the room. “Recovery? From the way we just saw you two, you’re healing real quick.”

You swatted at JJ’s arm. “See? You did this! Always making things dramatic,” you teased.

JJ just gave you that roguish grin, unbothered by the teasing. “Hey, if it finally got you to admit you’re in love with me, then I’d say it was worth the broken bones.”

The others groaned in unison, though their faces were beaming.

Cleo shook her head, grinning. “So, what now? Are you gonna stop pretending you’re ‘just friends’ every time we’re all hanging out?”

You shot JJ a look, and he just shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I guess the charade’s over. I mean, if it’s gonna make everyone so happy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Kiara walked over and hugged you, whispering, “About time, babe. You guys were exhausting to watch.”

Sarah and Pope gave you approving nods, and John B leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a grin. “So, are we allowed to call you two the couple now?”

JJ smirked, draping his good arm around your shoulders. “Why not? Go on, give us a title, make it official.”

The room erupted in laughter, and in that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most, everything felt right. You and JJ exchanged a look, knowing you’d both finally admitted what had been there all along. And even though JJ was still sore and bruised, you couldn’t have been happier.

The Pogues stayed for a while, catching JJ up on all the gossip he’d missed, and despite the teasing, everyone seemed thrilled. For once, the two of you didn’t have to hide or deny anything. You’d found a way to be together—just like everyone had known you would, all along.

#fanfiction #jj maybank #new writer boost #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jj obx imagine #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj #jj angst #support new writer #new writers corner #new writers on tumblr #new writter #new writer #new release

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izzystizzys · 3 months ago

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The war doesn’t end with a bang, strictly speaking. It doesn’t even end with a political forum, or peace talks, or a slow, wheezing death of the Banking Clan’s pockets running dry, even though all of those are valid possibilities. Some more than others, Cody has to admit.

No, the war ends with an article in the Galaxy’s least reputable news source, Coruscant Rotational. Splashed on the front page for all to see is Cody’s little brother, next to the Chancellor.

CLONE MEWS CHANCELLOR TO DEATH IN MOGGING MOVE FOR THE AGES - LOOKSMAXXING TAKEN TOO FAR?

“What”, says Obi-Wan, eye twitching, fingers massaging over the bridge of his nose at double their usual speed, a real sign of an impending nervous breakdown if Cody’s ever seen one, “the kriff does that even mean?!”

Rex shrugs helplessly with one shoulder, other arm raised aimlessly. “No idea, General. I only understand about half those words. Maybe we’re all having a collective stroke? Maybe Fox is having a stroke? Whatever he’s doing with his jaw in that picture can’t be healthy.”

“Well, not for the late Chancellor, anyways”, says Cody flatly, in the long-suffering tone of one who’s seen too much Jedi banthashit in too little time. He screws his eyes tightly shut, scrubbing the backs of his knuckles in hard enough to see galaxies explode. Nope, still the same words on that datapad.

“It can’t be true”, says Skywalker, who’d gone white as a shitty military-issue sheet and has been steadily pacing the room ever since the equivalent of a sonic bomb hit the room. “I mean - think about it, this could just as well be a Separatist ploy, it would play right into their hands, and Coruscant Rotational isn’t exactly the most reputable source -“

“True enough”, says Obi-Wan, thoughtfully. “They do like getting their facts mixed up. In fact, I’ve seen about six articles just this month proclaiming our dear friend Senator Amidala’s super secret pregnancy. They even falsified hospital records, can you imagine?!”

Somehow, Skywalker loses another shade of colour, gulping soundlessly, and resumes his pacing more frenetically than before. Weird guy, that.

It’s Rex who breaks the awkward stillness of the room, perking up suddenly. “Oh, I know! Why don’t we call in Commander Tano?! She’s about the right age to understand some of this dribble, right?”

“I was going to suggest calling Corrie HQ, but sure, let’s ask the teenage soldier from the space monk order who spends all her spare time hunting your legion for sport”, says Cody, dryly. Rex deflates, and Thorn’s tinny voice sounds through Cody’s comm before he can make his reply. “Marshall Commander, I assume this is about the News.” Ominous capitalisation, ooooh, mouths Rex, and receives the nearest datapad Cody can reach to the face for his troubles with a squawk. The fact that he can read that sentence off his lips means their legions have spent far too much time together, and also that Cody’s grown soft in his old age.

“Good to hear you too, Thorn, and yes, we do have some questions concerning why the kriff my vod’ika is accused of murdering the chancellor through what I can only assume is some secret Sith magic?!”

“Oh, you mean when he defeated the actual Sith on the Senate through the power of his superior mog and made the kriffer explode in a thousand wrinkly pieces? You’re welcome, by the way”, says Thorn, instead of literally anything sane.

“Commander”, begs Cody’s General, with something glistening that might actually be tears in his eyes. “Commander, please. I do not understand any of those words. I am begging you to put me out of my misery.”

PALPATINE??? SITH?????!!!, screams Skywalker in battlesign, somehow spelling out each individual question and exclamation mark.

“It’s a game we’ve started playing in the Guard, sir, to pass time on patrol”, says Thorn, sheepishly, cowed by nearly driving the High General Kenobi to tears. “We’d do stupid faces we found the holonet, and, uh - well Fox is so high on black-market morphine most of the time cause we don’t get bacta that he sleepwalks on assignment sometimes, and, uh, he started making them at the Chancellor during a holocall meeting with Count Dooku and then the Chancellor tried to electrocute him again but accidentally blew himself up-“

“Breathe, Commander”, says Obi-Wan, and then - “That is SO much information I don’t know what to do with, Force preserve me. Why is Commander Fox on black-market morphine, or sleepwalking, or making faces at-“

“He signs reports in his sleep too, sometimes”, Thorn interrupts the General. “It’s actually kind of impressive if, y’know, it didn’t make Stabby bust another capillary in pure rage.”

“Who’s Stabby?”, asks Obi-Wan, confused.

“Meeting with Count Dooku?!”, bursts out Skywalker.

“Congratulations on Amidala’s pregnancy, General Skywalker”, says Thorn, like a man who wants to see the world burn.

#sw tcw crack #this does not warrant the name of fic idea #i am running on day something of continuous shifts and all around anxiety #that is all i have to say in defense #i saw a post online and the rest is history #i would apologize but we all know i’ll do it again but stupider #commander fox #my brain is fumes fox and fuckery #thorn is running on like six stims and leftover coffee grounds mans is stressed okay #you’d be too if fox fucked off to jedi jail for mewing the chancellor to death and left you in charge #he actually ate the leftover coffee grounds out of the machine #and traumatized several shinies plus thire #ahsoka busts a rib laughing when she finds out #the 501st doesn’t stop mewing for a month #the 212th pretends to be better in front of cody #they are not #fox is cleared of all charges on account of he’s not sentient the chancellor exploded himself and he didn’t actually murder him via jawline

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rinsoap · 4 months ago

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➣ includes : boyfriend!matsukawa issei. and lord this is sooo suggestive but it never crosses into actual smut, it's just.. kind of intense making out and hickeys. this is probably ooc but I DONT CARE! HE'S SEXY OOC!!!

note : for my love @angelkiyo bc she gave me some inspo n i luv her <333 i got totally off track from ur original idea about mattsun n makki eating crazy edibles so yeah ummmm......

"let me know if you like it" matsukawa issei grins at you, waiting for you to eat the cookie in your hand held above your head. you're splayed across his bed, head hanging off it, turned to face your boyfriend. he's close to you but sitting on his rug with his back leaning against his bed. his arms rest on his knees, head lazily lolling back, copying how you've turned to face him.

you inspect the chocolate chips warily. last time you and mattsun got baked, it had you talking to the frank ocean poster on his wall for an hour and then going completely silent, no talking, for the rest of the night. staring at the wall silently while you desperately tried to regain your composure had become a common occurence when getting high. mattsun suggested you should slow down on it, and you agreed. but recently, you had been incredibly stressed, and it had been a a month or two since you had given up weed. so when your boyfriend proposed a sesh to help ease your mind, you happily accepted. that didn't mean you weren't having at least some reservations.

"i know you've been greening out on the old shit," he takes a bite, "that's why i got a new plug. i haven't greened out yet, but i know you're low tolerence."

"you didn't have to do that, 'sei" your eyebrows raise, flattered that he would go to the trouble to do something as tedious as that.

"anything for you, pretty girl," he shrugs, and gives you a small kiss, pulling back with a lazy smile that was enough to make you feel out of it without even eating the cookie, "and i didn't really fuck with the other dude anyways, always getting my stuff late. this new guy has edibles which is so much better than having to bake it myself"

you gasp. "i thought you liked baking them with me!" you roll over onto your stomach, folding your arms to rest your chin on them, pouting. "aw baby, don't pout," he pokes your cheek, "y'know i like baking with you, we can just bake something normally." you try not to smile which only makes his grow wider. "now eat that quick i wanna go see a movie" he nods to the cookie still in your hand, and you take a bite, emphasizing each chew sarcastically. "okay but if i start tripping out trying to kiss frank ocean again it's your fault"

"i'll break you guys up, no problem. i can't have you kissing him"

"what? are you jealous?"

"yeah, of you. as soon as i break you guys up, it's my turn to kiss him. i'll defend his honour and everything"

"i can't believe you would choose frank ocean over me- you know what just... go grab your keys."

mattsun pulls into the drive-in movie, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. you continue to demolish the burger in your hand, a big grin on your face to see the movie playing was jennifer's body. "i love this movie!!" you exclaim through bites as megan fox holds a lighter to her tongue. "yo slow down" matttsun laughs and grabs the fast food bag from your lap. that pulls your gaze away from the movie to him as you lick your fingers clean from sauce, then widen your smile. "thank you for the food, baby"

he doesn't know what it is, but that has him feeling some type of way. maybe it's the weed, or maybe it's the fact that you just look so good right now. tank top spaghetti strap lazily slipping off your shoulder and little shorts riding up your thighs, makeup marinated and lip liner almost entirely smeared off under the gloss. he wanted to kiss it completely off, he wanted to slide both straps off your shoulder, he wanted you.

his pupils dilate even more, and he leans over to kiss you. your initial surprise dissipates into comfort as you melt into his touch. you tuck a stray curl behind his ear at the same time his hand goes to rest on the back of your neck. "mm, what was that for?" you giggle when he pulls away. "you just had a lil somethin' on your lips. had to get it for you"

"you're so sweetttt," you're drawing out your words, feeling dizzy from his sudden kiss, "you're sooo good to me" he love how affectionate you can be with your word when high. you refocus on the movie with a content expression on your face.

"you're so cute. i just kissed you, that's all." he muses, and he breaks your attempted concentration on the movie with a kiss to your neck. as he sucks a purple mark into your soft flesh, your breath hitches. "issei..."

"you're so sensitive like this." you can feel his teasing smile against your skin, and you internally roll your eyes. as if he isn't equally sensitive. he doesn't try to hide it, a small groan leaving his lips when his hand returns to its place on your thigh and you grip his forearm. the noises you're making has him feeling lightheaded, and he can't get enough of you. "'sei please can't you see i'm trying to watch a movie?" you complain while you lean into his touch especially when his thumb rubs on your skin. your thighs close on his hand, and he smirks, still pressing small blooming bruises into your neck. "'m sorry baby, i just can't get enough of you"

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adamsrcnan · 8 months ago

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OKAY OKAY here we goooo an annoyingly long-ish post about all my thoughts on The Sunshine Court

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilersss you've been warned

First things first it is so interesting to see Nora writing from not one but TWO new people's perspective. Jean's perspective is just devastating being inside his head is heartbreaking the constant fear and panic and how much of his energy is used on just pushing down every memory of what was done to him. His coping mechanisms are terrifying and i truly do hope by the end of book 2 he has a healthier way of dealing with it bc baby boy stop hurting yourself :( Every sentence was so painful to read. But also his resilience the entire time to get through it no matter what, god i fucking love him!!! He is a fighter.

Jeremy's perspective is sooooo refreshing. He is such a little sweetheart i could cry. The fact that he sends hand written letters and he's so caring and genuine but he can also be so stern. When he dropped that "i asked you a question" to Lucas fkehdjdfjdh OK SIR. I'M SAT. His relationship with the family butler is so endearing as well i need more background on that for sure! My only one criticism is that he didn't have enough pov chapters and i'm hoping we'll learn more in the second book of course because there's still so much about him and his (dysfunctional? toxic?) family dynamic that we don't know yet but also i'm greedy and i wanna know EVEYTHING about him !!!

Kevin and Jean are so just tragic it actually breaks my fucking heart like "you didn't have to slit my throat on the way out" JEAN??? and "promise me you won't try again. I can't lose you." KEVIN??? And the fact that Jean to this day is still keeping that promise. Also Jean's obvious but secret long term crush on Kevin the way it's subtly dropped every time Jean has to stamp down on his desire's and "temptations" GOD PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT

SPEAKING OF!!! BISEXUAL JEAN ??? BI JEAN??? BI JEANNNN !!!!

Neil and Jean oh my God like where do i even start?? The guilt Jean feels at what happened to Neil in the Nest and him finally calling him by his name after Riko's death and telling him his game was good. And Neil seriously needs to give himself more credit for how much of a caring person he is because the way he indirectly told Jean that he thinks he is worth saving and didn't even hesitate before asking Stuart to send someone after That Guy after what Jean told him. Neil Josten the man that you are!!!

Jean's little sister Elodie what a beautiful name. Them being so close and him reading to her. The way he found out about her death jolted me differently. It was so awful and i'm so sorry Jean didn't get to see her grow up and meet her again.

Renee and Jean oh my god. Jean thinking she's beautiful (bitch me toooo) And the whole right person wrong time ugh i can't stand it. Him wearing her necklace all the time, enough that Jeremy always notices it. And unabashedly stealing her picture from the foxes lounge. Like he did not give a fuck. He said this one is mine. One good reason to stay alive being rainbows i'm gonna FKSJSKDHDH. Theirs would be such a soft love.

Speaking of soft loves Laila and Cat are EVERYTHINGGGG. God they are so cute with their little domestic life and their rich gay boy son who crashes on their couch with his cardboard cut out dog. That whole friendship dynamic is beautiful. Their fierce protectiveness and care over Jean as well and the patience they have with him even after the little kitchen incident. When Cat took Jean out for a drive on her motorcycle god that was such a heart warming moment and Jean helping them cook as well and becoming the girls' little sous chef it's so cute so endearing !!!

FINALLY FINALLY THE JEREJEAN DYNAMIC

PLEASE I'M GONNA SCREAM

Jeremy being the one who told Jean that Riko was dead i don't even know what to begin with THAT like hhhhhhh. The way they're both stupidly attracted to each other but won't/can't do anything about it. THE WHOLE "say yes Jeremy" SCENE WTF WAS THATTT I WAS GOING INSANEEEE. Both of them having to stop mid sentence when they catch the other looking FINE as hell. Jean being so obvious that even Lucas picks up on the way he looks at Jeremy. Jeremy being there to ground Jean in a Moment and helping him come down from it. Grabbing his face and telling him he's okay. Moving into the room with him to make him feel more comfortable !! The way Jean grabs Jeremy's chin (boiiiii). Jeremy constantly reminding Jean that he is NOT A RAVEN ANYMORE no matter how many times he has to say it. Jeremy saying he'll wait as long as it takes until Jean speaks to him. JEREMY GIVING HIM A HUG AND JEAN CLUTCHING DESPERATELY TO HIS SHIRT FUUCUFHDHSJHSSUHDH and then the "will you help me?" And the "Anything you need" AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE A CERAMICS CLASS TOGETHER?!?!?!!!! i can't i can't i can't i caaan'ttt

There's so much more to say but i'm gonna leave it at this for now because i need to go re-read it again and take my time with it this time round but i really could not have asked for anything better Nora truly outdid herself here !!! I'm forever grateful she blessed us with this after so long.

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monstersandmaw · 2 years ago

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Male fox spirit x female reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Commission #4 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt: female reader saves a dying fox on her way home from work, who turns out to be a fox spirit. I hope you like it!

Contents: Fox suffers a spinal injury when hit by a car (not the reader’s); there’s some magic; some domestic fluff; oral sex, fingering, him coming on her; and a sweet, fluffy ending.

Wordcount: 4400

Driving rain greeted you full in the face as you shoved open the main doors of the building and burrowed down into your coat, drawing the hood tight around your head in a vain attempt to keep the weather out. Nights like this — cold, damp, and at the tail end of winter before Spring took a proper hold on the land — were truly miserable.

Your fingers were half frozen by the time you had fumbled the keys out of your pocket and clambered into your car, and you fired the old thing up with a hopeful grimace that it would start. It coughed to life and you uttered a little prayer of thanks to whichever gods or spirits out there might be listening. “Now if only you could do something about my pathetic love life as well,” you said to yourself as you reversed out of the parking space and headed towards the main road. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Half an hour outside of town, your headlights flashed over something lying on the side of the road, sprawled halfway across the white line, and you swerved instinctively to avoid it. Mercifully there was nothing coming in the other direction, or you’d have caused a serious accident. Adrenaline spiked through you and you slammed on the brakes.

The flash of golden-red you’d glimpsed had told you it was a fox, but it had had its head raised and it had been looking at you with its eyes flaring yellow in the headlights, but the expression on its face had struck you to the core. It had looked… resigned. Like it knew you were going to hit it. Like it knew it was going to die.

“No,” you said through gritted teeth.

You had some old work gloves in the back of the car from when you’d taken a load of stuff from the garden to the dump a week before, so you put your hazards on and slid out of the driver’s side door and into the worsening storm. You cursed softly, squinting amid the stinging rain as it struck your face like little iron nails in the gusty night. You cleared a space in the trunk for the fox, spreading an old picnic blanket out and grabbing those thick leather gloves. No need to get rabies if the thing bit you before you could get it to an animal clinic in the morning.

You knew it was a stupid thing to do, that cars hit wildlife all the time, and you really weren’t equipped to deal with it, but you couldn’t just leave it there when it had looked so sad; black ears drooping, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Making your way along the edge of the deserted road with only your phone torch to light the way, you found the spot where the fox was still lying on the asphalt, and crooned softly to it. “Hey there,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright. Let me help you out… Let me take you home and see if I can take you to a vet in the morning…”

When your light found its back legs though, your heart sank. They lay limp and slightly twisted to one side. Its back had been broken by the impact with a vehicle.

“Oh baby,” you said, fighting sudden tears. “It’s going to be ok…” you lied.

Was it like with humans? Should it not be moved with a spinal injury? It would probably die anyway, or they’d recommend putting it down. You could at least take it in and keep it warm for its last few hours. When you knelt nearby, it just laid its cheek down on the cold tarmac, defeated, and let out a long, broken whimper.

“I’m going to pick you up, ok? Please don’t bite me. God, this is such a stupid thing to do…”

The fox licked its shiny black nose and just blinked slowly at you.

When it made no move to attack you or snap at you when you got nearer, you scooped it up and marvelled at how light it felt in your arms, its lovely, russet fur damp and matted.

“There,” you said, cradling it in your arms as you carried it back to your car. ‘Him’, not ‘it’, you saw when you set him down on the blanket and stroked his head and neck. He murmured softly, the sound almost a purr, and you swallowed thickly. He was so weak, you wondered if he’d even survive the journey home.

Five cars overtook you as you drove on after that, all beeping and honking their horns and flashing their lights to get you to go faster, but you absolutely would not be bullied into making this last car ride hell for the little, injured fox.

It didn’t take very long to set up a cosy den of blankets and towels in the kitchen by the radiator, and when you were satisfied that it was as comfortable as you could make it — and that any mess would be contained in an area with tile floors — you went back for him. He was still lying on his side, exactly as you’d left him, but his eyes seemed brighter and more focused, and his ears pricked up when you opened the trunk up and gazed down at him.

“Alright?” you asked and he gave a soft snuffle that was half-sneeze and half-chuckle. “You’re awfully perky for someone who’s just gone head-to-head with fast-moving traffic, buddy,” you smiled. “Maybe you will be alright. Ready to go inside?”

You had your gloves on but it didn’t feel like you really needed them, and when you settled him down on the veritable blanket fort inside, he heaved a great sigh and nuzzled his cheek against the fabric with a rumbling moan of contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked. “I don’t have much that’s fox-friendly, but I think there’s some ham in the fridge. Let me check.”

You offered him a saucer of water first, holding his delicate head up as he lapped steadily at it until he’d had his fill, and then you fed him little slivers of cooked ham which he took from your fingers like an absolute gentleman. “Aren't you dainty,” you chuckled as his small, sharp teeth pulled the next piece carefully free of your gloved hand.

He fixed you with such a flat, patronising look that you had to laugh.

The fox flicked an ear and looked away.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you said in a baby voice. “Don’t be grumpy with me, you precious thing… Here, have some more…”

He sneezed, then looked back at you and opened his mouth, head tipped back like a baby bird awaiting a worm.

“You’re not going to take it? You want me to feed you?”

He just stared at you without moving.

“Fine, your highness,” you said. “Anything for you.”

You let the piece drop into his tilted jaws, and then chucked him affectionately under the chin with your finger after he’d chewed and swallowed it.

He caught the leather of the glove’s fingertip in his teeth in a move that was so fast you didn’t even see it, but then tugged gently, insistently.

“I’m not taking this off,” you frowned. “You could have rabies for all I know.”

A tiny, rattling growl, like the world’s tiniest chainsaw, rumbled out of him and he folded his ears back indignantly before pulling on the glove again. Then he let go, his ears pricked about as far forward as he could get them, and he stared expectantly at you.

“No way, friend,” you said, and stood to put the empty ham packet in the rubbish bin.

With your back to the kitchen window, a golden light flooded the room, and for a wild moment, you thought someone was driving straight at the house, headlights blazing. When you whipped around though, you froze. The light was coming from… from the fox.

“The fuck…?”

Your heartbeat started to race, and you weren’t sure if the ringing sound was coming from your own blood pounding in your ears or from something else in the room. The brightness reached such an intense crescendo that you had to look away, shielding your eyes with the crook of your arm until the chiming noise stopped and you lowered it cautiously back down, blinking.

There, standing in the centre of the room, was a man.

You took a step back, fear crashing in on your senses.

You looked around for something you could use as a weapon, but a warm, gentle voice said, “Wait, I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

Again, you went still, and after taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him again, wide eyed and shaking. “What the hell?”

“Not hell,” he smiled, and you saw that he had warm, tan skin and dark, golden eyes. His hair was a russet colour, and it fell in soft waves around his ears to the nape of his neck. He was slender, not especially tall, and he was quite possibly the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid eyes on. Except… there was still a kind of glow around him, like an aura, and his clothes looked like they belonged at a Ren Faire or something, though the dark green, belted and embroidered tunic was finely tailored and his dark brown boots looked soft and well worn. Tiny points of light, like fireflies, twisted slowly through the air surrounding him before vanishing into a miniature, glittering starburst.

“You’re not human,” you said, despite how crazy it sounded.

“No,” the man replied with a smile. “No, I’m not. But you didn’t know that when you took in an injured fox and cared for him.”

“You’re the fox,” you blurted without thinking.

“I am. Sort of,” he smiled, and you saw that he had perfect, white teeth, with slightly more pointed canines than humans usually did. “I’m a fox spirit. There are all sorts of us, and we’re known by many names all over the world, but the most famous is probably the ‘kitsune’ thanks to modern media.”

“Oh,” you said, only half aware that your vision was darkening around the edges until it was too late. The blood roared again in your ears and your knees went out from under you. The last thing you saw was a flicker of a frown on the man’s — kitsune’s — face before he lunged towards you with hands outstretched, and the world went black.

You stirred and found yourself lying on the sofa in your sitting room, with your feet raised about a foot or so off the seat cushion, and a stranger in green standing over you, holding your legs up by the ankle. The kitsune. The fox spirit.

“Got to say, that’s the first time someone’s actually fainted because of me,” he said with a smile, lowering your legs back down and stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I fainted?” you asked stupidly, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs slowly off the sofa and onto the ground. You swayed a little, but didn’t pass out again.

The fox spirit nodded, his lovely hair shining with strands of bronze and copper in the low light of the room, gold eyes glowing as if back-lit. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a quiet, earnest baritone.

“Did I, though?” you asked, staring openly at him. “I mean… you’re… magic, right? I saw the way your legs were just… Your back was broken…”

“If you’d hit me with your car, or simply left me there for the next driver to do the same, then I wouldn’t have survived. We’re tough, and our magic can heal most things, but not that.”

“Oh.” And then your cheeks went hot and you looked at the carpet, “I’m sorry I baby-talked you like you were an actual animal.”

He laughed; a beautiful, bright sound like dry autumn leaves in clear sunlight. His head tipped a little way back and he looked truly delighted. “You weren’t to know,” he said, still chuckling. “And you’re not the first.”

“Oh,” you said, like a broken record.

From where he stood nearby, the fox spirit smiled at you and then inhaled deeply. “I… should go,” he said, his golden eyes turning a little sad. “Let you return to your life…”

“Wait,” you called from the sofa as he turned away. “What’s your name?”

He cast you a look over his shoulder and the smile he gave you was wry and amused. “You may call me Rowe.”

There was a nuance there that you weren’t understanding, but you told him your name in return, and he inhaled suddenly as if you’d struck him.

“You would part with your name so carelessly?” he whispered, brows pulling together into a frown of utter confusion. “You…” and then his expression cleared and his shoulders dropped. “You have never had dealings with the fae, have you?”

“The… fae?” you stuttered. “Like… fairies?”

The smile that replaced the frown was patient and amused in equal parts, and he sighed and shook his head. “Well, here’s your first lesson. Never tell your true name to a fae.”

Again, all the sound that escaped you was a dull, “Oh.”

He exhaled and approached you, and you tried not to lean back, to lean away from him. This whole night had gone from bad to utterly bizarre in the blink of an eye and you felt a little sick from the whiplash.

To make matters all the more confusing, the strange man knelt before you, sweeping his long, otherworldly tunic out of the way as he sank down onto one knee like he was going to propose or something, and he bowed his auburn head. “You saved my life without thought of debt or repayment, and in recognition of the gift, I give one of my own. I bind your True Name to my heart and hold it there in silence. I may never speak your True Name aloud unless you give me leave so to do. This I swear upon my spirit and my magic and my own True Name.”

The air in the room prickled like static and you had to fight the urge to see if your hair was standing on end. Goosebumps flickered along your arms and legs, and you drew in a shallow breath. “Anything else I should know about?” you asked faintly.

He looked up at you and shrugged. “We’re allergic to iron,” he suggested. “And we’re overly fond of cream and sweet cakes…”

“Sweet cakes,” you repeated thoughtfully, eyes drifting towards the kitchen where you’d bought a strawberry sponge cake just the day before, and an idea half-formed in your head.

Rowe smiled and your heart slipped sideways in your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it was almost hard to believe he was really there and really standing in front of you. Well, technically he was kneeling like a knight in a fairytale. Fairytale indeed, you thought.

“You don’t have to go,” you whispered.

You were afraid of sounding childish, that if you spoke too loudly, he would think you desperate and would laugh at you, but all he did was tilt his head to the side the way he had done as a fox, and he nodded once. “Alright,” he said.

“I mean, don’t feel like you have to stay either,” you babbled, making a rather pathetic, flapping gesture in front of you with your hands. “I just meant… you’re welcome to stay if you want to. I was going to cook some dinner and watch a movie… eat cake for dessert. I thought… I thought since you’ve had kind of a rough day, you might like to just… chill out with me for a while.”

“May I help you cook?”

“If you… If you’d like to?” you said, standing carefully and holding your hand out to him to encourage him up off the floor.

He slid his warm fingers into your palm, and got to his feet with the grace of a prince, and offered you another smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Rowe stayed with you for a week. You explained that you had to go to work or you’d get fired, and when you came back on the first day, you expected him to have gone, leaving you wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been a hallucination brought on by the combination of a stressful week of work and the awful weather. But no, Rowe was there that evening, curled up as a fox on the impromptu bed you’d made by the radiator while the rain hurled itself at the window pane above him.

“Rowe, you don’t have to sleep on that!” you gasped, dropping your bag by the door and making him startle awake, ears pricked, tail fluffed up in rather adorable alarm.

In a flash of gold light, he was human again, standing beside the bed and smiling at you. “I don’t mind,” he chuckled. “It’s comfortable, and when I’m a fox, I don’t think in quite the same way as I do when I’m in this form. That’s how I got hit by the car in the first place… Please, don’t fret.”

You scowled at him, but relented, and asked him about his day. It seemed he’d spent most of it in his fox form, either out and about in the woods near your house, or sleeping by the warmth of the radiator.

“Didn’t you get bored here?” you asked.

“I could have done the housework for you,” he smirked. “But I thought that might have been an intrusion on your privacy.”

You laughed. “Thanks?”

After three days of sharing your space with him — he sleeping contentedly as a fox on the pile of blankets and you upstairs in your bedroom — you cleared your throat that evening as you sat together on the sofa like old friends, and said, “You know… uh… I… I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come upstairs with me… I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep down here like you’re a…” you trailed off, flushing hot with awkward embarrassment.

One russet-brown eyebrow climbed a little higher than the other. “… a what?”

“Like you’re some kind of pet… you know…”

Rowe laughed and, as it always did, your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks dimpled and Adam’s apple danced in his exposed throat and you ached. It felt like a long time since someone had touched you; since you’d been held, let alone kissed. He had a beautiful mouth, like he’d been made just to tempt you.

Some of your thoughts must have shown on your face because the laughter died in his throat and he fixed you with a look that was all concern. He murmured the name you’d given him permission to use when it was just the two of you and asked, “What’s wrong? I’m not upset about the animal comment,” he said, reaching for your forearm and trying to reassure you, but you shook your head. “Then what?”

Tears came unbidden to your eyes and you turned away. His hand felt hot through the fabric of your hoodie, but his grip was feather light. It would take nothing at all to pull yourself free, but the thought of it seemed overwhelming. “It’s nothing,” you choked, pressing your lips together and hoping he’d let the matter drop.

He didn’t. His eyes flared bright gold and he scowled at you when you risked a glance at him. “The fae can always taste a lie,” he said with the slightest growl to his voice. “And I can tell you’re hurting. We were laughing, and then… you weren’t. What changed?”

“It’s —”

A short, animal growl echoed in his throat but he bit it back, shut his mouth with a click of teeth, and glared at you.

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, standing up and pacing across the room. “It’s been a long time since it’s been this easy around someone, ok? And it’s not every day that a handsome, cute guy with a great sense of humour shows genuine interest in me. I just wished, for like half a second, that you might be interested in me, but I get it. You’re not even human. I was nice to you. You probably feel obliged to stay here. You… You should probably go soon anyway.”

His expression turned from concerned to carefully neutral, and he stood. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said, “Then I can leave. But you should know that I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and…” he swallowed and took a breath, “I think you’re beautiful, through and through.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings.”

“We can taste a lie, but we cannot tell one,” he said evenly. “I could not tell you that your clothes are yellow when they are not, nor that the sky is green, nor that you are not beautiful.”

You turned slowly around to look at him, and found him glowing gold again, those points of light spiralling lazily in the air around him. The slight shape of fox ears seemed to be picked out in two, brighter lines above his copper hair and behind him you saw a golden tail swaying back and forth. His eyes blazed bright like burnished bronze, and he was staring directly at you as he spoke.

“Oh.”

“I would very much like to stay with you, and share your bed, and, if you would let me, I would bring you pleasure too.”

Your breath hitched and you licked your lips. He even spoke like he was out of a fairytale. “You mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you smiled.

Together, you tidied up the sitting room, and he followed you upstairs, still glowing softly, as if he were utterly contented and couldn’t help it.

Rowe undressed with you in your bedroom, baring a body like polished bronze; all lean lines and languid muscle, and you almost couldn’t look away. He asked if he could shower with you, and gently washed you and touched you, cupping your breasts and trailing his hands down your sides with reverent care. He passed his thumbs over your hardened nipples and kneaded your breasts until you gasped and tipped your head back, eyes closed. He teased between your legs with his fingertips, and then when you turned the shower off, he kissed your forehead. In a rush of magic, both your bodies were completely dry and your skin glowed softly with a thousand, dewy, golden sparkles. You beamed up at him, and he kissed you.

When he drew back, he led you by the hand into the bedroom and you lay down on the bed, heart racing. He knelt between your parted knees and you stared openly at his beautiful body. He looked like a statue come to life, and his cock had been more than half-hard ever since the shower, even as he turned his attention wholly on you and skimmed his palms up your thighs. You parted your legs a little wider for him and he bowed forward to kiss along your inner thigh until you shivered and lay back on the pillow behind you with a gasp.

He kissed you and tasted you, moaning softly before letting his tongue sweep up over you. He took your sensitive clit between his lips and kissed you there as well, and then he slid his arms under your thighs, lay down on his front, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of his mouth.

You lost count of how many times he made you come that night, with his tongue and with his fingers, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.

“Come on me,” you murmured. You had no idea how well your current contraception would withstand a magical fae, but you were pretty sure you were safe with that, and when you asked, he nodded.

His fingers were slick from where he’d made you come, again, and he closed his hand around his cock with a low groan that dissolved into a gasp as he brought himself to the brink. He glowed gold again and you saw those ears made of light and the tail gleaming vividly behind him just as he spilled over your stomach with a muted grunt and another beautiful moan.

The golden light suffused the room, and you watched his expression as he came — open and vulnerable and achingly beautiful — and wished more than anything that he would stay.

When you woke in the morning, you expected to wake alone, but the warm pressure of Rowe’s body pressed against your back and the weight of his arm across your waist drew a little inhale of surprise from you. Apparently that was enough to wake him, because he kissed the back of your head and mumbled a sleepy good morning into your hair.

He was hard too, you realised, and you deliberately rocked your hips back against him.

Rowe let out a grunt and his hand shifted to your hips, drawing himself closer to you with a languid, answering roll of his hips.

“I don’t know if the fae have weekends,” you said, “But today is Saturday. I don’t have to go in to work…”

“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure I could let you go anywhere today after last night.” He said it with a laugh that told you he would let you do anything you liked, and you rolled over to face him. The softness in his smile brought one of your own to your lips, and he slid his hand down over your breast and then down between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his fingers easily inside you, and you rolled onto your back as he started a rhythm that would end in the kind of pleasure you had only ever dreamed of before him.

He smiled and kissed your cheek without his fingers once faltering, and whispered in your ear, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

You gasped and bucked, and almost missed his promise.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Library/Story Archive Blog

#kitsune #male kitsune #male fox spirit #fox spirit #fox shapeshifter #fae #shapeshifter #male kitsune x female reader #female reader #male fae x female reader #fae x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #kitsune boyfriend

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

Note

I can wait until you finish all your previous request before mine.

Maybe if you have time and motivation after finishing all that request.

May I request;

Modern Au! Where Sumeru Boys tells their s/o if they ever miss them just give them a called. Just one step out of the house and closing the door, his phone start ringing only for his s/o calling him and being dramatic saying stuff "COME BACK!!!" "I MISSS YOU<3" and they probably just sweatdrop at this because they were just planning to go out just for a while

Thank you for being so patient and don't worry, this idea gave me a ton of motivation, because.. OH MY GOSH THATS SO FREAKING CUTE!!<3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Miss you already~༺}

CW: Fluffy!! Modern AU! Kaveh calls the reader honey! Reader is tilted so no one gets who's talking confused!

(Includes: Alhaitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Wanderer, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

When Alhaitham suggested you called or messaged him whenever you were missing him greatly, he hadn't expected to see your number show up after only being gone two minutes... certainly you couldn't be that lonely already... right? He sighed, answering with a quiet, "Hello?" It was like he could hear the smile that played on your lips when he actually picked up and the happy tone of your voice actually did make him feel a little homesick, "Alhaitham you should come back, I miss you!"

"I haven't even been gone 3 minutes..."

"You say that like you think 3 minutes isn't forever!"

"I'll be back soon, I'm just going to the store."

"Well let's talk on your way there then, I miss you being with me in person, but hearing you talk can quench my addiction for the time being!" He chuckled slightly at your words as if they were silly, but ended up going along with your plan anyway, chatting with you the entire walk to the store, even during shopping and the walk back, until he was home with you once again, holding you in his arms while you told him over and over how much you missed him.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari pulled his phone out of his pocket, aware it had buzzed three times now with new messages and he hadn't even made it a quarter of the way to his destination, had he forgotten something? As far as he could tell he wasn't missing anything, he typed his pin and your messages became visible...leaving him shaking his head with a flustered smile.

You: Come back!

You: I miss you to much already!

You: Pleaaase!! I'll make you cookies!

He was seconds away from typing his response when you started calling, leaving him no choice but to answer with a slightly sarcastic chuckle, "You couldn't even last 2 minutes could you? I'm starting to worry you're obsessed with me." He could hear your laughter on the other end and it made his heart skip a beat, maybe he was just as obsessed with you as you were of him.

"You're only now starting to worry about that!? You should come back home and we can talk all about your worries!"

"I'm just returning my book, I'll be back soon."

"I wasn't lying about making cookies..."

He paused mid step thinking about making the warm desserts with you...technically the book wasn't overdue, he could turn it in tomorrow and then he'd still get cookies...

"I know your considering it! Come back! I'll give you extra kisses too!"

The fox sighed in defeat...extra kisses winning him over as turned around.

𑁍༄Kaveh:

Kaveh smiled at the screen, his favourite picture of you displayed alongside your number as the phone rang, he hadn't even made it out of the driveway yet and he could still see you through the window, but he'd made a promise to answer no matter what, after all, he never wanted you to be lonely, "Hi honey..."

"You kept your promise!"

"Of course I did! I do have to get to work though and you know I can't call and drive."

"I know...but I just, missed you already! And knowing you're going to be gone for work all day...I'm going to miss you so much!"

He glanced at you through the window again, noticing the genuine sadness flick across your features at the thought of him being gone all day and he had to admit, it made him want to stay, "I'll call you when I get to work and then you can message me all you like, I'll answer the second I can."

"Promise?"

"I promise...I love you honey."

"I love you too!"

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer knew this was going to happen, he regretted his words the second they left his lips and as he stared at your number, the annoying song you'd chose for your ringtone playing loudly for everyone to hear, he wondered what had ever made him think this was a good idea in the first place, still he knew if didn't answer he you'd just keep calling, so begrudgingly he picked up, "...hello?"

"Whatcha doin..."

"You know full well I'm walking to the laundromat to pick up our laundry."

He listened as you giggled in the background and for a split second his annoyance ceased to exist,...you really had such a effect on him, stupid human, "How about...you come back and we get the laundry together! I can help carry!"

"I don't need help."

"...just come back so we can walk together. I miss you."

He rolled his eyes at your neediness, despite also finding it kinda cute, "I'm not walking back just cause you have separation anxiety."

"Finnnnne but you better answer all my messages then!"

"...just so you don't miss me to much."

"Yay!!"

𑁍༄Cyno:

Cyno had just barely shut the door behind him when his phone started ringing, he didn't even make it one step and you had already tested his suggestion?, "Is everything alright?"

"Yep! I just missed you!"

"I haven't even left our doorstep yet..."

"Annnd?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

His cheeks blushed slightly as he glanced through the window in the door, smiling at you while you waved at him, "You're right I have no argument, seems I'm at a loss for words. You could even say I've lost my window of opportunity to come up with some."

You rolled your eyes at his pun and yet still ended up giggling for some reason, "Yeah well then... you could say I'm waving my flag of victory! My reward...one more kiss?"

Cynos eyes met yours and he nodded in response, "One more kiss.."

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

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mcondance · 8 months ago

Text

southern fantasy

— this is indulgently a self-ship. | reader is explicitly and beautifully Black southern (specifically from louisiana). this is literally the definition of “i wrote this for myself, but you can read it too.” | no smut 😱 | hotch got me writing fluff yall do you know how out of character this is for me? | inspired by @murdrdocs’s persisting southern enthusiasm with her characters | story is non-linear mostly, just snapshots if you wanna call it that

1.2k words of fluff and southern fantasy, ft hotch. a love letter to my state, and to hotch.

in the car, hotch’s finger taps in time against the steering wheel, sliding gracefully into the rhythm of the song rumbling out of the stereo. the sun is setting, casting a glow over his face, outlining his prominent nose and cheeks, lighting up the smile on his face.

southern skies are beautiful when you’ve got hotch to see them with.

the south is your home, your territory, your space. hotch, on the other hand, is new. he was fresh, but he’s fit in so well. the difference in birthplaces was stark, at the start, hotch’s eyes gaining a youthful glow every time you showed him a green bayou or took him to a gas station in the middle of nowhere with chicken and meat pies so hot he laughed through the burn.

he still sees everything like it’s new, eyes surveying the small towns you take him through, telling him you have family from here or there, about how your dad knows someone from here and your mom’s childhood friend lives here now. but he’s experienced, has a thing for the nights when it’s quiet out, when even in your bed he can hear the crickets chirping just outside the window.

he likes the drives, the rolling roads and graveled streets and towns that pop up here and there. the breaks in trees that reveal a church, the yellow, faded Dollar General signs and the pastures with cows and horses grazing away.

the towns are his favorite, though. small and cozy, one store for everyone, a mom & pop shop, a church.

lousiana summers are hot, bright and burning and, with the proper precautions, he can enjoy you in the sunshine. under the shade of pecan trees, a distance away from the playground, you sit across him on a checkered blanket, and it looks the image of a picnic date, your dress loose and flowing.

the nights are his favorite, too. you’d both picked a house on the edge of town, half an hour away from the nearest big store, where it’s more practical to hit a market or a gas station than drive to Walmart.

so at night, when it gets dark, it gets dark. he’s never seen the stars so clear until he met you. you and your southern wit entranced him and are still entrancing him now. he likes the subtle differences, the different ways you go about things.

and if he’s being honest, your drawl makes his head spin. he hangs on your words, on the elongated syllables and sour twang and how your accent grows deeper when you’re angry about something, or when you’re so excited your words twist and curl around themselves.

he can’t help but poke fun at you for it sometimes, when you’re speaking normally and a word comes out a little more flavored than the others.

he repeats it to you in his own voice, laughing as you scold him, saying he knew you were country when he met you.

“i did,” he concedes, and it’s like a gut-punch every time he speaks with such fondness about anything related to the relationship you two have shared.

you showed him a different kind of southern, one that isn’t horses and cowboy boots, but parties with familiar songs and a city where everyone knows everyone, nights with fireflies, and foxes you just barely catch glimpses of, rap groups proclaiming their pride in their southern heritage and experiences you only know if you’ve been here.

he’s learned some party songs, and you’ve taught him the dances. he’s so comfortable with them now that he can do them with his arms draped over your shoulders, leaning into the groove as the family you welcomed him into enjoys themselves around him.

he’s a dream at the backyard parties. he lets the kids bounce him on the trampoline, and hang off his shoulders, and pretends like he doesn't see your little cousins sneaking up on him with water guns that look more like water bazookas.

“you know, if that thing isn’t registered, i could confiscate it,” he jokes, dripping with water and too entertained to even fein professionalism.

your cousins shriek with delight, running off to no doubt refill their guns and attack him again.

he’s got rhythm, for a white guy, still awkward but endearing and he’s got enough to make the line dances fun. he claims his favorite is a toss up between “cupid shuffle” and “candy,” but it’s obvious what he leans toward more. he hears the bassline of “candy” and he’s rising out of his chair with a beer in his hand and turning to pull you up too, dancing you backwards into the mass of your family.

your love for him grows with every party you attend, with every dramatic slap he delivers to the ground.

he watches you run and play with your siblings, grown but morphing into the children in the pictures hanging on the walls of the house, your dress soft and purple and flowing and he falls further in love when he hears you scream “stop, i’m not playin’ with you,” all country and playful and beautiful.

inside, squeezed up beside you on a chair, the darkness of night falling over the party and moving everyone inside, his heart is light. he goes back for more plates than he’s proud of, pretending like he doesn’t hear a cousin or aunt giggling at you as he walks away with the promise of bringing you more lemonade.

he’s grown accustomed to the hour long goodbyes, where he’s still talking to your dad or brother about something or the other with his keys dangling in his hand and you talking to your aunt as she plates and wraps up another bowl of her banana pudding.

and the drives. god, the drives. he traded his big truck in for a lowrider at your request, an old car from the 70s that’ll fall apart before it needs to hit the shop. he’s navigated this road more times than he can count, knows what gas station is where and when to look out for the nasty bends and twists that are so prevalent back here.

there’s a CD labeled with yours and hotch’s name in the player, fashioned with hearts all around and a plus between the two names. the sunset flows in through the window, eclipsing hotch’s face and molding him so perfectly with the sky you swear he belongs there.

high and happy, the gas station stop is silly, you fill the small space up with your laughs and chopped up words and hotch laughs with you, finding humor in the smallest things with you.

there’s soft conversation and snacking and feeding him food, him trying and holding his own on a particularly difficult song. he slows the car down, at times, cruises way under the limit cause he just wants to look at you, wants to indulge in the sight of you while he listens to you speak in that tone he can’t get enough of.

he really can’t get over your accent. he gets wrapped up in the push and pull of it, the lows and the highs and the way you sometimes sound like a southern belle, sweet-talking him into staying in bed another hour or hitting the store nearest your house for a drink.

his ears perk up when he hears the subtle (and sometimes, not so subtle) inflection, the way you say “baby,” how his name sounds different from your mouth. he’s wrapped up in a southern girl, in the life he’s grateful to have been given.

southern nights with hotch, through the window of a car or in a closed-in porch on a house in the middle of nowhere, are a dream. a fantasy.

#hotch x reader #hotch fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner x black reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #— 🎠#mcondance 2024 #. southern hotch

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year ago

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Intoxicating - Yandere!Fennec Fox!Jeongin

Yandere AU & Hybrid AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Jeongin X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,665

Warnings: Implied masturbation and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, here it is! The first of what I'm deeming are the 'Feral Drabbles' hehehe. This one is a bit tame to start since I'm feeling things out, but I'd really love to know what you all think of it! Like I said, I'm trying out a new style here, so I really hope you all like it. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The First of The Feral Drabbles

You’re intoxicating.

Did you know that?

Of course you did. Why else would you always wear that scarf I got you, only to casually ‘forget’ it at my place?

You know how much you drive me crazy. It’s like you want me to scent you.

Really, you can’t blame me. The soft pastel pink of the material was practically glaring at me from the hook near the front door. I had to move it before it drove me insane.

Where better to keep it than in my bed? Where you should be.

The fabric is knitted, and quite smooth to the touch. Not as smooth as your skin beneath my fingertips, but it’ll suffice for now. It has to.

My imagination can only do so much.

Oh, how I long for the day to feel you falling asleep in my arms. Sure, you do it sometimes even now, but it’s not the same.

No. Right now, we’re only friends. Friends who have an undeniable chemistry with one another. Friends who clearly want something more.

You can feel it, too, right? The way our lives are interconnected. You and I, we’re meant to be. Besides, I know what I do to you. You’re not as subtle as you think.

I hear the way your breath hitches when you catch me staring at you. I’m sure you can see the emotions in my eyes, even though I try and hide them. The love, the desire, the sheer desperation I harbour for you knows no bounds, and I’m afraid I will never stop.

I want you, and I want you to want me, too.

I know you do. I can smell the way your scent shifts the slightest bit when I do certain things. I catch you staring when you think I’m not looking. I see the way your eyes linger the slightest bit longer when I roll up my sleeves, or even come out of my room with my shirt unbuttoned. Your breath stutters slightly when I wear that cologne you like, and I notice how you lean into me more when I do.

It makes me so happy to know I can affect you in these ways. I’ll let you in on a little secret, too. I do it for you.

It’s all for you.

I know you like it when I smile, it sets your heart racing. I also know you enjoy when I run my fingers through my hair.

Do you wish it was you? Do you also want to know what it feels like to have you pulling at my hair? I bet you’d be so gentle at first, cautious even. That is, before you’re gripping it and pulling me into you to get exactly what you want from me.

Whatever it is, I don’t mind. As long as you only did it with me, I don’t care what you do. Use me, please me, love me, just whatever you do, never leave me. You’re not meant to be anyone else’s but mine. Just as I’m not meant to be with anyone else but you.

I’m yours, Baby. Forevermore.

Fuck, I wish you were here right now. I wish you could see what you do to me. I wish you could see how hard you make me, my cock throbbing from just the thought of you. Really, it’s embarrassing, how much precome leaks from the tip, my whole body aching for your touch. I want you to see how desperate I am for you, clinging onto that scarf for dear life. Maybe then I could bury my face in that delectable cunt of yours instead.

I bet your lips feel so soft and supple… god, I want you all for myself.

Would you like me playing with that pretty pussy of yours, Baby? Would you want me to finger you while you stroked my dick? Would you let me eat you out while you sucked me off? Or, would you prefer to have total control? I’d let you tie me up any time you’d like, Baby, as long as I got to do the same to you. I bet you’d look so pretty spread out on my bed, and all just for me to see.

Fuck, I’d start slow. Simply trailing my fingers over your body to get you accustomed to the faintest of my touch. Maybe I’ll blindfold you, too. If you let me, of course. I hear dulling certain senses can make others that much more sensitive… Regardless, I’d make sure to treat you right, and I wouldn’t be done until you’re a trembling, moaning, blissful mess.

I want you to scream my name, and my name only. After all, it’s going to be the only thing you’ll be able to remember.

I’ve smelt you, too. You’re not subtle. I know when you get turned on. I’m beginning to recognize all those little telltale signs that alert me to your every need, and then I watch you carefully when I emulate those same stimuli that turn you on. It makes me so happy when I see those plush thighs of yours squeeze together from something I’ve insinuated. It lets me know everything that I need to. Everything important.

It’s working.

God, I want to feel you around me. I want to feel your naked body pressing against mine. I want your legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer with every thrust I give into that tight little wet cunt of yours. I want your nails raking down my back and drawing blood, claiming me as yours in every primal way you know how. I want all of this, and so much more as your velvet walls spasm around my dick from another earth shattering orgasm only I could give to you.

My body is yours. It’s only fair that I offer it all to you.

You make me so desperate, Baby. I can hardly ever think straight when you’re around. Half of the time, I’m overcome by the need to make you mine in every way possible, and the other half I’m dreaming about our future together.

That’s just it, isn’t it?

Our future.

Us.

Together.

No one else.

I am made for you, Baby, and you are meant to be mine.

Mine, and only mine.

Oh, where should I put my claim on you?

I wonder…

Your neck? It’s always been begging for me to mark it; to rub my scent all over it and let everyone know that you’re mine and I’m yours.

Hmmm, or perhaps your thighs? The tender flesh has always tempted me beyond belief. I’d love to toss them over my shoulders and just drown in that dripping cunt of yours, but perhaps some other time…

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me, spending hours worshipping every part of your body that you’ve always wanted someone to please. I’m not lying when I say I could get lost in you.

Maybe, I’ll bite my mark on that soft stomach of yours. Maybe then you’ll start showing it off more for me to admire.

Then again, I don’t want anyone seeing what should be for my eyes only.

You’ll understand, right? How no one else gets to adore you like I do? How no one else is allowed to admire your ethereal figure, and worship your very being like I will? I’m all for showing you off, and making others jealous of what they can never have, but certain demonstrations from My Goddess are for me, and me alone.

Oh! I know! I’ll put my claim on you just above your collarbone! It’s the perfect area. You can show it off whenever you want, and I can tease you by resting my chin on your shoulder when you don’t. After all, if that were the case, only we would know it’s there. It’s perfect.

Just like you.

I should warn you, though, I do have quite a bit of stamina. Of course, I’ll cater to your every need, but I might have to be a little selfish, too. Selfish in the way - the best way - when I say that you make me insatiable.

I bet your moans sound so cute. I want to know what you sound like when you whine for me, when you’re begging me to please you in all of the ways I’ve only dreamed of. I want to make you come with a smile on your face, pleading for me not to stop. To never stop.

I wouldn’t. Not in a million years.

I will say though, that yes, I am an eager lover, but I also never want you to be uncomfortable. I’d take care of you in every and any way I know how, using whatever means necessary. Always.

You’d never have to worry about anything. Not while I’m here to take care of you. Besides, a little birdie told me that you rather enjoy knowing your lover gets off to the thought of you. I’m always ready and willing to put on a show just for you.

Only for you.

Fuck, I could tell you about what I’m doing right now. What I always do when I think about you. Then, maybe, you’d be compelled to replace my hand with your own, teasing me even further while taking care of me like I’ve always fantasize about. It’d be the perfect mixture of passion and condescension. A thought I’ve always been into, but only with you.

God, I want you so badly, Baby. I wish you were here, letting me fuck you raw instead of me desperately fucking into my hand longing for the warmth of your pussy. Or maybe, you’d want to fuck me. Whatever the case, I’m all for it. Maybe then my teeth would be sinking into your own flesh and claiming you as my own instead of this stupid scarf.

It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

But what can I say?

You’re just that intoxicating.

#yandere jeongin #yandere stray kids #yandere i.n.#yandere kpop #jeongin scenarios #jeongin smut #i.n smut #i.n scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids scenario #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #chubby reader #hybrid au

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ninyard · 5 months ago

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Andrew said she is useful as in oh yeah she is good but neil you are interesting you make me feel something and you are different amd yeah i also think nora could have worded it better but what did renee really do for andrew? Idk i don't wanna sound mean i love renee but the thing about foxes is that they don't really view andrew as a human being so why would andrew see them as anything other than that? The only people that really care about him are neil and aaron (sorry)

I think I understand where you're coming from but personally I disagree!

I think Renee very clearly is the one fox that does view Andrew as a human from the beginning of the series. These screenshots are all only just from TRK, too! I searched up Renee's name and found all of this and I just wanted to share for your consideration that Renee cares about Andrew, and Andrew cares about her, and they are friends!!

(This is going to be long but I just wanted to share with you my thoughts on different points where we see their friendship in TRK, where we can see them caring about each other)

After Higgins calls Andrew, Andrew goes sparring with Renee for hours.

Renee talks time and time again about how her and Andrew are more alike then Neil thinks - and she talks way more in depth about it later during the "Andrew's-Gay" conversation (we'll get to that)

They talk. ALL the time. I don't know if we see anyone other than Kevin or Neil talk to Andrew as much as Renee does.

This moment, with Andrew, who doesn't like to be touched.

And then there's the coming out conversation, all of these little moments that show Andrew and Renee's friendship; them betting on Neil, how similar they are, how he trusts her.

"Neil finally understood why Renee wasn't afraid of Andrew"

Again just this - "Peace of mind". Them not correcting people on their relationship stops people from figuring out Andrew's sexuality, for his peace of mind that Aaron isn't going to find out before he's ready.

She's the only one who knows about his sexuality. He spoke to her, he told her, he trusted her.

And how much he must have told her for her to know all of this, too. She knows why he hasn't told Aaron, he's told her he isn't ready for that conversation, told her they have too much to work through. Plus, there's the "He didn't know what she and Andrew talk about when they stood off by themselves" ++ Andrew knowing she won't use it against him.

"This is what helps me connect to Andrew."

"But if you are as like us as we first predicted you to be, perhaps one day you can also come to see me as a friend." You can also come to see me as a friend. (+ them predicting what Neil is going to be like??)

And them being usual dates too.

ANYWAYS

None of this is including the cabins, or her holding him down at Kathy's show, or the fact that she's allowed to drive his car, or the apocalypse conversations - idk!!! I love Andrew and Renee's friendship so much!!!!

#this is not meant to be defensive i am just passionate about them and i wanted to share some thoughts!!!!#ask #<33

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royal-chandler · 9 days ago

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inspired by TZP's appearance at the premiere of Queer 💫

grammar and i really couldn't mesh well today, i'm sorry.

The car slows down and the bounce of Alex’s knee speeds up in the backseat. It’s stilled when Henry’s hand folds over it, easily stealing Alex’s attention from the reel of landmarks that lead to the DGA Theater Complex. Henry’s smile is a private and small curve that crowds out everything else.

Henry comments, “You look like you’re about to leap out of your skin, darling. We can still wait, if you’d like. There’s no pressure.”

Drifting a hand down, Alex threads his fingers through Henry’s and admires the warm and perfect fit of them. “I’m not having a record-scratch moment. And we’re not postponing or calling this off. Or, fuck even worse, appearing as friends to have the internet continually mislabel us as a bromance. It’s not nerves or cold feet, it’s anticipation.”

“An incredibly vibrant anticipation.”

“And your subdued energy, I should take that as?”

“Barely restrained excitement.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Of course,” Henry says with a mock-serious nod that he might as well have patented, "I'm going to be sharing the same space as Luca Guadagnino. As a massive fan, that thrills me to no end.”

Alex laughs out of surprise and plays along, leaning in. “Wow, he rates higher than Daniel Craig?”

“Alex, honestly. You think that I haven’t already met the most recent iteration of James Bond? Me, a son of Arthur Fox? We’re well acquainted, love. He’s been at my dinner table quite often,” Henry divulges.

“Huh.” Alex's curiosity is genuine now. Clearing his throat in an attempt to sidestep an embarrassing needy tone, his question still comes out clumsy, words tripping over gravel, “No, uh, farther than the dining room? Uh, just dinner.”

“He’s rather happy with his wife and I’ve never been...courted as a supernumerary,” Henry says thoughtfully. And then with his free hand, he’s carding Alex’s hair, pulling on an end in a way that makes Alex’s toes curl in his shoes. Showing off his cheekbones, Henry grins wide when Alex hisses between his teeth. He's generous with his touch, his fingers slipping down to Alex’s mouth and skipping over its opened seam, pausing at the pout of his bottom lip. Henry’s voice drops in volume as he adds with a sweet kiss, “Plus, he’s not my type whatsoever. Far removed from it and no one fills out a tux better than you. Even James Bond. So, there’s zero reason to be jealous.”

“What? Who’s jealous? I am not jealous.”

“I’d hope not. Soon enough, the whole world will know that I’m yours.”

To the left of his sternum, Alex's heart gallops. The same wild pick-up from weeks before when he’d first held the invite to the premiere, the title of the film brash and defiant across the top. Unapologetically Queer. Over the sloping script encouraging a plus-one, Alex had rubbed his thumb back and forth, like he could wear a patch into the parchment. He hadn’t been able to let it go until he had Henry on the phone, tears swelling and unsteady as the black and white of the invite blurred and the choice became clear.

“And that Henry fucking Fox calls me his boyfriend. Kind of insane,” Alex remarks, remembering the Melbourne Climate Conference and literally running into the Prince of England. Getting to his feet with a two-inch advantage and still feeling like he didn’t measure up and never would, gutted by Henry’s refusal to take his hand. Later, in a hospital closet, he’d find out that Henry had been hollow that day as well, pitted by fresh grief.

“Good insane?” Henry asks.

“Always. I like the kind of crazy you drive me to,” Alex admits and sees happiness light in Henry’s forest eyes. He sees forever. Alex wants it so badly, he has to dip his gaze lower before he loses himself there completely. He loiters at the necklace that hangs from Henry’s neck, its silver pendant resting against the notch of his collarbone like an ornament. A gift from Alex that the public has been speculating the origins of since it first appeared on a beach trip Henry had taken with Bea and Pez—noteworthy for the simple fact that the Prince never wore jewelry aside from his signet ring. “I mean, let’s get started on this fucking outfit, baby.”

“Alex, enough.”

“You’re in a cardigan that’s barely holding on! What am I supposed to do with that? I’m merely a man.”

Paired with dark grey pants, the cardigan is powder blue and delicately knitted with a lace pattern, see-through over a black tank and even softer than it looks. It’s a formal contrast to Alex’s dark denim jeans and wool workwear jacket but together, the intent behind the ensembles will be undeniable—that, like any other couple, they’re meant to match.

Fondly, Alex shakes his head. “When the big headline reads ‘Prince Henry, finally saved from drowning as First Son ACD yanks him out of oversized double-breasted suits’, I’ll get my gratification. You’ll see.”

“They are not oversized,” Henry argues, a blush across his face.

Alex tells him, “If you didn’t bare your chest every once in a while, your shoulders would be your best kept secret. Forget about me.”

“Not ever,” Henry answers.

As if cued, the car rolls to a stop and a silhouette appears outside the window. They’ve got thirty seconds and, in a deliberate callback to the moment he realized saying anything less than love to Henry felt like lying and asked him out on this date, Alex wonders, “Are you ready?”

“So fucking impatient,” Henry says with a laugh and Alex is head over heels for all of him.

When the door is opened, Alex doesn’t let go of Henry’s hand. He carefully waits for Henry to climb out behind him and then places his proud smile to the skin of Henry’s cheek—what he had wanted and wished to do at the charity polo match in London and every other public appearance that followed after.

Ahead of them is a long, loud line of press and chaotic bursts of blinding lights. A shit ton of questions and a sprawling red carpet that they won’t be able to walk back.

They move forward with purpose, together every step of the way.

i'd like to kindly thank @caressthosecheekbones for telling me that Henry should wear Nick's iconic cardigan 💛

and @mylucayathoughts , here you go! 🤍

#firstprince #rwrb #alex x henry #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfiction #my fic

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a-ikuoliver · 7 months ago

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Mercury your event is SO cute I’m actually obsessed! I’m such a beer girlie, but if I had to pick a drink it’s gotta be a jägerbomb! And for the character you pick because I want you to be as free as possible I’m ready for anything👀

ehehehe i was a lil cheeky with this one, i leaned more into the leave you wanting more vibe with the jagerbomb also im sorry for the lack of beer i've never met a beer or cider i've liked LMAO i was going to make this endeavor but the more i wrote it the more it worked better with bakugou but i hope u like it!! teehee birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

anyone who wasn’t a couple jagerbombs deep could tell you how bad of an idea jagerbombs are at an work party, but when you work at one of the most popular bars in musutafu, it’s more a rite of passage.

not even here a year, your work-best friend was the very first to inform you of the notorious annual work party, how messy they get, how she’d gone home with the chef one year, and how many servers had crashed in the booths over the years. finally, the time had come for the party, your friend already abandoning you to flirt with the chef again, although, you couldn’t play the morally high act about it when all your attention was on your boss behind the counter.

walking behind the bar, you perused the liquor on offer, mostly mid-tier stuff, but god, did the imported stuff look good right about now, something smooth to take your mind off of him. fuck, why’d he have to roll his sleeves up like that? his forearm muscles enough to make you wonder what else lies beneath that damn shirt, an endless expanse of muscles underneath a wife-pleaser singlet, thick thighs caged in his expensive slacks.

“need some help?” lost in your daydream, bakugou is beside you before you realise how long you’ve been ogling him, your indecisive daze in front of the alcohol drawing his attention (any excuse to talk to you, really). you’re nowhere near drunk enough for him to be this close, to get this messy. yet.

“you don’t have my beer on tap.” his eyes nearly roll back at your sweet tone, your gentle teasing that’s been driving him up the wall for months. he stays steadfast, dark garnet eyes unwavering, despite the top you’d worn specifically for them to wander.

“let me make it up to you,” he takes another step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne filling your lungs when he reaches around you for the distinct green bottle, trapping you between his biceps for a fleeting moment, “we’ll do something i used to have in my party days.”

grabbing two pint glasses and two shot glasses, you watch him work with the kind of swiftness and expertise decades behind a bar could give a man, every twist of his wrist calculates, not a single drop of jagermeister or redbull spilling, even when the latter threatened to bubble over the top of the glass.

“you used to do jagerbombs?” you can’t help but sound incredulous, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline when you accept the drink from him. mesmerised as he pours his own, you try to imagine him younger, chugging back the bomb, swallowing shot after shot, stumbling home in the am. even in your daydream, his hair had speckles of salt through the blond of his hair, the silver fox look worked too well for him to see him any other way.

“why are you so shocked? i was twenty once.”

“it’s hard to imagine you… like that.”

“like what?”

“you know, a party animal, i can only see you drinking bourbon on the rocks.” he chuckles at the memories, of sleepless nights, of horrendous hangovers.

“i could still drink you under the table.” he challenges, already reaching to pour another, you try not to laugh in his face, the image of your all-powerful boss drunk and stumbling was something you’d pay to see. with a smile you could only describe as evil, hot, you clinked your drink with his before knocking it back, “sure you can, old man.”

after too many bombs, an assortment of other shots, some cocktail bakugou poured you and a sip (you weren’t game enough to have more of it, there’s a reason you weren’t a bartender) of the one you poured him, the pair of you stumbled into his office at the back of the bar. half the buttons are undone on his shirt, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt even when he pulled away from you long enough to unlock the door, pulling you inside with him and nudge it closed once more before turning all his attention back to you; the way you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the way your lipstick smudged under your bottom lip, how your chest heaved (the way your tits looked when you did), how your dress rode up when you pulled yourself onto his desk, tugging him in by his belt loops.

he can’t even find it in him to care about the time-sheets crinkling under your ass when you bite your lip, can’t care you’re his employee and his mind goes blank of everything when you wrap your thighs around his hips. fuck, you’re irresistible like this; arching into him, kissing and biting his jaw, one hand tugging your dress further up your thighs, the other working off his belt to slide into his slacks, searching for more and more, more he wants to give you.

you’re just so, so, so hot… and he’s soft. he’s fucking soft. he finally has you under him and he can’t get it up.

let’s hope the alcohol buzzing through your blood is enough to clear your memory of this in the morning.

#mercurys birthday bash #「mercury answers」#「jo <3」#「kat <3」#「mercury writes」#tw: alcohol #bakugou drabble #bakugo drabble #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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sun-dappledfields · 2 months ago

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Could I get a red fox mood board and maybe some activities to do while in a shift that would make me feel more at home ! Thank you greatly ♡♡♡♡♡

I hope you like it ! Sorry for getting carried away… again… 0.0

FOX HELPKIT!

Remember, these are just ideas meant to inspire you. Only you can dictate your identity as a fox— if you don’t feel connected to anything here, then that’s fine! No one else can tell you how to identify as a fox: only you can.

You are valid. You are strong. You are free. Paws or no paws. Fur or no fur. Bark or no bark. Pounce or no pounce. Prey drive or no prey drive. You are a fox through and through, and no one but you can change that.

Affirmations:

My fur dances like leaves in the wind!

I don’t have to hunt to be a perfect fox.

My ears stand alert— I can hear everything!

My fangs are awesome, big or small.

I am a radiant vessel of nature!

My pawsteps are practiced, poised, and perfect.

My experiences as a fox are valid.

If my hearing is bad, that’s okay! I am still a fox in so many ways.

My coat is amazing— silky or rough, short or long!

Even if I can’t run or pounce, I am still a valid fox!

My bark is loud and clear and strong.

A lack of fox-like features does not make me any less of a fox!

My tail is shiny, poofy, and rad!

It’s okay for my eyesight not to be great— not every fox can see very far.

My claws are striking and sharp.

Now here are some activities you can do to make you feel more at home!

Activities:

Curate a playlist filled with songs that remind you of the forest!

Start a journal— digital or physical— that details your experiences as a fox.

Play hunt with your stuffed animals! Ask for their permission, and if they say it’s okay, put them in different places around your safe place and practice your hunting skills.

Listen to ambient forest noises like birds songs, rain sounds, bushes rustling, etc.!

Dig outside, if you can! Bury things in the ground or just dig holes in the earth and cover them back up.

Make a burrow for yourself. Bury yourself in blankets and stuffed animals, or (safely) make a burrow outside. Whatever is accessible to you!

Bathe in the sun and appreciate its warmth.

Pounce and run around if you are able to! See how high you can jump or how fast you can run.

Snoop around and be a sleuth. Find new details in the places you see every day, or learn something new about a topic you’re interested in.

Find new hiding spots in your den! Whether that be your house, your room, the outdoors, or somewhere else— it’s always nice to have hiding spots to be comfy in!

Bark, yip, and yell! If you can’t, then listen to videos of other foxes calling out. Even if you can’t make sounds, you can appreciate the tune of others!

Admire the beauty of nature around you. Look at clouds, plants, the sun bouncing off the walls. Urban or rural, crowded or quiet: nature is everywhere, if you know where to find it.

Be observant to what is around you— see if you can notice different sounds, smells, or sights that you haven’t noticed before.

Stalk around your den or the area around it at night. It’s always important to have a secure den, but make sure to be safe when protecting your space

Collect things! Feathers, sticks, stones… anything that catches your eye.

If they’ll let you, bite or nip (playfully) at your friends or your stuffed animals.

Go on hikes and connect with nature, if possible. If not, then watch videos of others going hiking or look at nature cams!

If you have biting instincts and no way to let them out, try to find or make nature-themed chewelry!

Make art about red foxes to better connect with the fox within. Songs, drawings, sculptures, poems— anything art and every kind of art is beautiful.

Now here are some snack ideas you can try while shifting to help you feel like a hunter in the forest!

Snacks:

Chicken nuggets make a great meal! You can have them plain, or you could have them with your favorite condiments.

Salads: fruits, vegetables, or omnivorous! You could have a chicken salad, a salad with tons of veggies, or a salad with tons of berries— there are so many options!

Berries in general! Raspberries, bananas, blueberries, huckleberries… whatever kind you like!

Fish tacos make a great alternative to regular tacos if you don’t like traditional meat, and there are lots of fish that you could make them out of.

Nuts and granola bars are nice to have if you need a quick energy boost!

Eggs, eggs, eggs! Foxes eat lots of various eggs in the forest, but if you aren’t too experimental with your types of food, you can just stick to normal chicken eggs. But, you could try cooking the eggs in different ways! Scrambled, sunny side, fried, poached— just like berries, there are so many options.

Jam is great if you need some good fruit in your diet. It can be tart, tangy, or sweet!

You could also take a spin at some new kinds of meat you haven’t tried! Whether that be venison, rabbit, duck, or something else, expanding your meat pallet is a great way to lean into your foxish nature.

Here are some gear ideas for you if you want to lean into the physical side of your foxish-ness!

Gear:

Auburn, orange, or other warm-toned hair colors are a great way to connect yourself to a fox more. Just look at those reddish coats!

If you want something more alternative, you could also get fox hair, which is usually blonde hair with orange and black tips. Another variation of fox hair is a dark orange color fading into black!

Ears! There are numerous independent small businesses who specialize in animal ears, including fox ones! If you can’t afford those, however, don’t worry— making your own is just as rewarding and fun!

Wearing socks is a great way to create a look similar to a fox’s coat. You can wear dark brown or black socks of any length to make you feel more comfortable in your coat.

Leg and arm warmers— paired with the tip above, if you so choose— can also help bring your foxy appearance to a new level.

You can make or buy gloves, fingerless or not, with paw pads on them to resemble your very own paws! If you’re able to, you can also try to make some with claws!

Makeup, if accessible, is fun to do and can help you resemble a fox more. Warmer tones and giving yourself foxlike features might help you feel like yourself in the vessel you operate.

Furry coats worn when not too hot could help give you the feeling of a fuzzy pelt!

Tinkly jewelry like fun bangles or necklaces might be able to fulfill your gathering or hoarding instincts— decking yourself out in other piercings and trinkets is also fun to do, species euphoria or not!

To help remind you of the forest, you can decorate your mobility aids with naturey items! Whether that be wrapping vines around your wheelchair or cane or decorating your bags or braces with stickers, surrounding yourself with remnants of the forest can bring back those warm feelings of home.

There’s nothing like music to help you feel more connected to your species! These playlists might make you feel more at home when shifting.

(I didn’t make any of these, but props to those who did!)

And last but not least, some moodboards, all created by me! One is for gear, one relates to physicality, and the other is about red foxes themselves <3

I hope you enjoy this one— I had a total blast making it!

Fox banners belong to @kodaswrld !!

My requests are open ! :D

#sunny requests ☀️#alterhuman #nonhuman #otherhuman #otherkin #otherkith #pet regression #sfw interaction only #therian #therian activities #therian tumblr #therianthropy #foxkin #fox therian #fox theriotype #fox activities #otherkin activities #fox thoughts #fox things

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