#only because i haven’t actively written anything

[suokura]

can someone please yell at me to write something

[nightcolorz]

I would love to hear your thoughts on autistic Armand, if you haven’t already spoke about this! Imo he’s very autsitic coded, and it’s very precious to me as an autistic iwtv fan :]

OMG!!! RUNS AROUND. Yes lmao I talk about this a lot actually it is one of my favorite Armand things to meta about bcus I’m also autistic and he is my special interest🙏I was trying to find some of the stuff I’ve written about autistic Armand but tumblrs search engine makes it near impossible to find anything so I gave up 😭, but believe me they r out there. Even tho I talk about this a lot I would love love love to talk about it some more for u anon because I can never get enough of armandtism.

I first figured Armand was autistic when I was reading the vampire Lestat because when he is first introduced he is completely non verbal and only communicates through the mind gift. through further explanation it’s very much implied that he does this because he finds putting his thoughts into words hard and he considers just projecting them into peoples brains much easier. Armand speaks out loud for the first time like more than halfway through the book, and lestat is surprised to hear him lol. This is super autistic I feel like that’s obvious 🙏 it’s basically the vampire power equivalent of using a non verbal communication device. Armand having trouble with connecting with people, understanding how to “fit in”, and talking r prevailing parts of his character throughout the whole series (not just tvl) which solidified my headcanon into basically a canon fact in my mind lol.

When Armand is first introduced in iwtv his strangeness is chalked up to his vampirism, but it’s soon revealed throughout tvl and qotd that Armand is considered a strange outcast by other vampires. The things he struggles with r unique to him and r not representative of vampires in general. His otherness/strangeness can also not be chalked up to his trauma or his age turned because Armand was also an outcast as a young child. It’s described in the vampire Armand that Armand was not understood by his parents or his community because he was obsessed with and freakishly good at painting. His community interprets his unusualness as a sign of some divine intervention, the priests believe he is a saint or a prophet sent to earth, even at times saying things implying that he is “not human”. Unusually high quickly developing skill in childhood is an autistic trait, as is hyper fixation on an activity/topic that becomes a core identity factor and prevailing obsession. The affects of Armand’s trauma only worsen the severity of his autistic traits. C-ptsd and autism often overlap and coexist in autistic people who were traumatized in childhood, which seems to be Armand’s case.

in queen of the damned Armand is at his peak autistic lol, I feel like this is when most book readers gain that head canon. The Devils minion chapter revolves around Armand using Daniel as a guide to help him learn how to be “normal” and to blend in to the modern age. Armand can’t seem to figure out how to blend in on his own because he is unable to understand social norms of any time period enough to integrate himself into society. Armand is in love with technology and what most would consider monotonous sensory experiences. He stares at his own reflection for hours, he loves kitchen appliances and watching ingredients whir in blenders, cameras, he watches the same movie over and over again and never gets bored of it. The way Armand fixates on technology really reminds me of how a lot of autistic people played as children. He enjoys repetitive, sensory behaviors over “fun”. For Armand this means watching the same things repeatedly, which is a form of visual stimming. There r moments where Armand is trying to understand his world, but is so blind to what he is trying to understand that he goes about his discoveries wrong. Such as in qotd when he tries to interrogate strangers to gain information on societal norms but he only gets uncomfortable glances. Armand is desperate to understand and to connect but he is consistently inherently alienated, whether it be from humanity or from other vampires or from himself.

Armand also can not process his memories comprehendingly. This is part trauma part autism, but autism is def a factor. Because of his repressed trauma induced memory loss Armand finds it difficult to talk about himself to people. This is worsened by Armand being unable to comprehend the aspects of story telling that he needs to be able to tell people about his life. Armand explains to Daniel that he vividly remembers small details, such as dates and weather, but he could not tell Daniel what “things were like” because he “doesn’t know what that means”. Literal thinking, the inability to grasp vague, fiction based concepts like narratives and metaphor, and strict fixation on minor details like numbers, are all autistic traits!

Armand also struggles heavily with emotional regulation. He is described as often having intense and extreme meltdowns where he cries and screams and breaks things. Armand is easily bothered, in tva he mentions that he covers his ears when he is overwhelmed. The vampire Armand begins actually with Armand becoming overwhelmed in public and trying to escape to an attic so that he can be alone in silence. Armand copes with his intense emotions by putting on a mask of neutrality. He is often described as expressionless and blank, uncanny. But this is a mask, and when Armand can no longer mask and his disguise lapses his facial expressions r described by lestat as being so over the top and emotional that they are disturbing and weird. Over the top unnatural facial expressions as well as blank unreadable ones are both autistic traits. For Armand he is naturally overly emotive to the point of being considered horrifying, and he hides this by taking the opposite extreme. Either way, either expression Armand puts on causes him to be socially outcast.

Armand often describes feeling like there is something wrong with him that causes him to be isolated from others and he’s not sure what it is. In prince lestat he tells Gregory that he doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to have relationships when other vampires are fully capable of doing that. In the vampire Armand he explains to David that he’s crazy because his mind isn’t built right and his senses are tripled so he shouldn’t bother trying to understand him. I rlly relate to this as someone who felt like I was from another dimension as a child bcus i didn’t know the unspoken life rules everyone else did.

Armand is often treated like a child by the other vampires and assumed to be emotionally immature and too fragile and insane to be helpful. Armand says in the vampire Armand that he doesn’t consider himself an adult because he can’t function like one. This could be due to the age he was turned, but it’s shown to us that characters like Benji and even to an extent Claudia r able to self regulate and function appropriately despite being turned even younger then Armand was.

in conclusion, book Armand is an autistic person who was never given proper support or understanding because the environment and the time period he was born in decided to alienate him further rather then work to help him socialize and learn appropriate skills, and because of the necessities he has been deprived of and the horrible trauma he endured Armand is never able to learn to function in the way he was likely capable of. this recessive quality in pair with his autism caused Armand it be unable to cope or self regulate or learn ways to understand himself since he wasn’t given a chance to in his formative years. He’s a great representative of what many autistic people who experienced intense child abuse experience.

Im rlly happy with the shows portrayal with Armand so far partly because he is omg, so autistic. Show Armand shares so many of book Armand’s autistic traits. inability to understand himself or others, fixation on small details but inability to understand the big picture, etc. even his iPad is autistic asf! My ipad is my comfort item that I carry around with me to self sooth, and this is def the vibe Armand’s iPad gives me in the show. Even assads performance is autistic! He is able to play Armand masking and Armand unmasking, the stilted expressions he gives and the blank stares, the uncomprehending earnestness. AGHHHH!! Assad stims with his fingers when Armand is nervous too which is just an amazing touch. I hope the show explores Armand’s autism, because that would literally be a dream come true. Even still, for now I’m satisfied.

thank u so so much anon for the ask this made me so happy 🙏❤️ autistic Armand means so much to me and has gotten me though some tough times. Understanding and analyzing Armand helps me understand myself better and feel more comfortable with how I am. Earlier this year I gave myself a concussion because I was harmfully stimming during a meltdown, and while I was in the emergency room I was holding the vampire Armand and imaging that he would relate to what I was going through. So yeah he is very special to me too! And once again it makes me so so happy that u got me to talk some about it. I hope this was coherent or interesting lol I felt like I was all over the place

[sleepingdeath-light]

ranpo edogawa smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; nobody / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; bungo stray dogs

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; ranpo edogawa

outline ; “smut hcs for ranpo”

note ; may be a bit shaky in terms of characterisation as i haven’t written for this character before, may come back and tweak this in the future…

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, dominant-leaning!ranpo, mean dom!ranpo, brat!ranpo, food play, somnophilia, praise kink, edging, overstimulation

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

ranpo is a switch by nature but it’s not often that you’ll get the chance to truly dominate him in the bedroom — of course there are times where he wants nothing more than to sit back and be pampered by his adoring dom/domme after a long day of solving cases that everyone else is too stupid to crack themselves, and there are certainly times where he’ll get all whiny and bratty in an effort to get your attention back on him when he feels like you’re neglecting him, but nine times out of ten when you two are being intimate its the world’s greatest detective that’s holding the reins

a lazy lover by nature, ranpo prefers to have sex with you on top doing most (or even all) of the work — ideally this means you riding him in the ‘cowgirl’ or ‘reverse cowgirl’ position while he gets to sit back and take in the view, but if you ask him nicely enough then he can be convinced to spread his legs and let you fuck him with your strap/cock (just don’t expect him to get any more active now that you’re inside of him, if anything he becomes even more of a pillow prince when you do this)

as a dom he can get rather mean, putting his powers of observation to good use by ensuring you never have a moment’s peace when you’re in his vicinity (unless you use a safe word, of course; he may be cruel, but he’s not a monster!) — this usually translates to him teasing the hell out of you in public in ways that are subtle enough to not tip anyone else off about what he’s really saying and doing, but he also uses his intense familiarity with you and your body to edge and deny you in the bedroom until he gets whatever it is he wants from you

as touched upon earlier, when he’s in a more submissive mood ranpo gets extremely needy and demanding of your attention and affection — and if you happen to be distracted by something (or someone) else and he feels at all neglected by you as a result then he’ll turn into a complete and utter brat who can and will make your life a whole lot more difficult than it needs to be until you either give into his demands (ideal for him) or put him in his place (not ideal but still enjoyable enough for him)

he’s a big fan of food play and often goes out of his way to bring home sweet foods that he knows are completely safe for you both to play with — of course there are the standard items like whipped cream or chocolate sauce, but ranpo is much more adventurous than that and is always eager to branch out and test out which new flavour and texture combinations work best with the taste of your release (frankly this is one of the only times where ranpo will be active and engaged in the bedroom, so enjoy it while it lasts!)

ranpo excels at dirty talk because he’s quick to pick up on what gets you hot and bothered — whether you’re more into degradation or praise or if you prefer him to mix them together, whether you get harder/wetter from his voice when he’s whispering his words against the shell of your ear or when he’s teasing you in his normal speaking voice, what you like him to call you and what tone he should use when he’s saying it, what phrases get the best reactions out of you, and so on… all things that he picks up on pretty much the first time you two sleep together and that he continues to make use of for the rest of your relationship

he loves being woken up by you either fucking yourself on his cock or sucking him off after he’s had a wet dream — nothing beats it in his eyes and he swears waking up like that gives him much more energy to deal with the day ahead of him

he can enjoy giving and receiving mild amounts of pain (e.g. playful spanking, leaving hickeys on each other, and some light hair pulling), but refuses to engage in anything more extreme (such as knife play or breath play) — yes he knows how to participate in those kinks safely, and yes he can understand the appeal of those kinks on paper, but he refuses to engage in anything that runs a risk of causing either of you real harm and that’s one limit of his that will never change

ranpo has a massive praise kink and loves hearing you tell him how good he’s making you feel, how amazing he is, how much you love him, and so on — and if you happen to combine it with some begging for his touch (bonus points if it’s for his frustratingly talented tongue or his cock) then you’re all but guaranteed to have an eventful evening ahead of you

because of his intimate familiarity with your body ranpo is extremely good at both edging and overstimulating you, skills that he takes full advantage of when he’s dominating you — e.g. edging you until you say what he wants you to or until he’s bored of doing so, and then overstimulating you until you’re in tears and either clearly too far gone to continue or lucid enough to call the safe word before you get to that point

his approach to aftercare varies depending on what role he was in and how intense your session together was — e.g. if he was submitting to you then he expects to be pampered and will act rather childish and entitled to the ‘princess treatment’ from you, whereas if he was dominating you he’ll remain lighthearted and teasing while also subtly checking you over for any injuries and just generally making sure you’re okay (he might even share some of his snacks with you if he’s feeling nice enough… might being the key word there)

[rieamena]

five: front fork ᯓ★

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the hallway was quiet, a low hum of distant activity filtering in from the rest of the pit area. you finally spotted the door ahead, the name “takuma ino” scribbled on a slip of paper hastily taped there. you glanced down at the bags in your hands—snacks you’d grabbed, hoping they might be a good distraction—then back at the door. taking a breath, you walked up and lightly kicked the door with your foot, a signal you’d arrived. silence. no response. furrowing your brows, you hesitated before twisting the knob and letting yourself in. the resting room was dim, lit only by the glow from ino’s phone. his back was to you, shoulders slightly hunched as he stared intently at the screen, completely engrossed. it took you a moment to realize that he hadn’t even registered your presence.

“since you haven’t put your phone down, did you even take those deep breaths i mentioned?” you teased, setting the bags down on a nearby table.

ino flinched slightly, startled by your voice, before quickly composing himself. he let out a shaky laugh, still not turning to face you. “‘m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low and almost defeated. “i’m just… nervous.”

the confession hung in the air between you, the vulnerability of it so unlike the confident racer everyone knew. your chest tightened at the sight of him—this wasn’t the composed, driven ino you usually saw. he was struggling, doubt written in the tense lines of his posture.

you stepped closer, softening your tone. “hey, it’s okay to feel that way. you don’t have to act tough all the time you know.”

he didn’t respond immediately, so you tried lightening the mood. “i brought snacks! now, i don’t know your favorites, so i bought a variety and—”

“i can’t eat these,” he cut in abruptly, voice tinged with frustration.

“why?” you asked, a bit taken aback.

ino sighed, finally turning his head just enough for you to catch the troubled expression on his face. “it’s not the food,” he said quietly. “it’s everything. the pressure, the expectations... i keep hearing—" he paused, staring down at the hardwood floor. a couple moments went by before you heard his voice again, "nevermind! what did you bring?" he was supposed to be putting up a front, but he was shaking, and his eyes lost that light you remembered.

“listen, ino,” you said gently but firmly, stepping closer so he couldn’t avoid your gaze. “i don’t know what happened to you in the past, but you have nothing to prove to anyone. if you want to race, do it for you. not for validation, not for fame, not for publicity—do it because it’s what you love. because it’s your passion.”

he looked at you, eyes glassy with emotion. for a long moment, neither of you said anything, the silence thick with unspoken fears and hopes. then, with a faint, appreciative smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of wired earbuds.

without a word, he offered you one end of the earbuds, a silent invitation to join him in his world, even just for a few minutes. you took it, slipping the earbud in and hearing the soft music fill your ear. it was soothing, an escape from the tension that hung over him.

as you sat beside him, both of you quietly listening to the melodies, you felt him lean into your presence just a little more, finding some comfort in having you close. you didn’t need to speak; the simple act of being there together was enough to ease some of his anxiety.

the moment was cut short by a crackling announcement over the loudspeakers: “attention all motorcyclists and technicians. fifteen minutes before the official race starts. please report to the tracks immediately. i repeat. please report to the tracks immediately. thank you.”

ino let out a deep breath, and you could feel him trying to steel himself for what was coming. you squeezed his shoulder, offering one last piece of encouragement and a gentle smile. “whatever happens out there, just remember—you’ve got this, and you’re not alone.”

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[mandarinmoons]

I don’t know if you’re open for requests but if you are… Spencer’s first ever kiss? One he initiates (even accidentally) Whether he’s younger/it’s two 13 years old kids who don’t know anything or just season 1 before Lila (because I refuse her to be his first kiss)

Kissing is something Spencer’s always been intrigued by. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about the act that made him so curious, was it a primal instinct that clicked in his brain that wanted him to explore it or was it scientific interest into human behavior. Whichever one it was, the act was something he had never partaken in and it made him a bit angsty.

It was a quiet day in the bullpen and the team was huddled over a desk as they ate their lunch and talked, this time around they talked about stories of their first time experiences, this time about the romantic kind. Spencer listened intently as Morgan reminisced about his first ever so called girlfriend, could you really call it a relationship if it only lasted for two weeks? Who’s to say, but the way that the man was talking about it made it seem like to Spencer as though Morgan knew exactly what he was doing. 

Morgan went into detail about how he and the girl shared their first kiss, a sweet little peck on the lips as they parted the school bus and walked to opposite streets. It was sweet and innocent, everyone else awed and soon enough they all were talking about their experiences with their first kiss. As Spencer kept on listening he felt himself go stiff, his lack of experience in the field being talked about made him feel uneasy. What was seen as something everyone had experience in, for Spencer, he had never even held a girl’s hand. It made him feel childish, it was something he had hoped he’d experience by now, but with the way his life had gone it gave him no time to partake in those types of activities.

“What about you, pretty boy?”

Spencer looked up and his eyes flicked across the group, everyone was looking straight at him, waiting for a response.

“I uh, I’ve never uh…,” Spencer scratched the back of his neck and Morgan patted his shoulder in return and chuckled.

“Don’t worry now, your time will come.”

Spencer merely gave a slight nod and drew his attention to the styrofoam cup of cola in his hands. He felt his cheeks heat up and tried to focus his attention back to the conversation at hand and pay no mind to the embarrassment that was whirling inside him.

As the day went on his mood was still low. He never paid much attention to the fact that he had never kissed anyone, but now that the rest of the team knew, to him, it just only made him look more of a “kid” to everyone. He may be the youngest of the team, but he could easily trump everyone with his intellect. In social situations he was a bit awkward though and that would be his downfall.

Spencer was in the kitchen, stirring his cup of coffee after adding an appropriate amount of sugar. He heard footsteps come into the kitchen and looked over his shoulder as he saw you approach him,

“Hey, how’re you doing?”

“Me? Oh um, I’m great,” Spencer gave his signature tight lipped smile and watched over his cup again.

“You’re not upset are you?”

“About what?”

“Well, the conversation we all had during lunch, the kissing thing you know…”

“Oh uh, no, I’m fine.”

“Spence…”

Spencer looked at you and saw the concern written over your face. He felt dumb being sad over such a situation.

“Well, I mean… Maybe a little.”

You smiled and Spencer felt his stomach flip, he’d always liked you and whenever you expressed concern for him his little crush on you grew.

“It’s okay, I haven’t kissed anyone either.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” Spencer’s eyes went wide as he realized what he had just said and his cheeks burned up, nothing would be able to hide the crimson hue..

You chuckled at his response, “Yeah well, I haven’t for whatever reason. I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone, yeah?”

Spencer nodded and as you turned around to walk back you turned right around as you remembered that you wanted to make some coffee for yourself too. However, as soon as you turned back Spencer took a step forward as well and you ended up walking into Spencer’s chest.

“Oh um, sorry,” you chuckled and looked up at the tall man.

“It’s okay,” both of your eyes locked and you weren’t able to look away from each other. Spencer reached up carefully and rested his hand on your cheek and you leaned into his touch. Without noticing you both leaned in and a moment later your lips met in a soft kiss. Spencer’s other arm wrapped around your waist as he brought you closer and your hands rested on his chest, gripping his shirt lightly.

A moment later you both pulled back and looked at each other, lips a little bit swollen and breathing heavily.

“I don’t think I need that coffee anymore.”

Spencer chuckled and rested his forehead against yours, “Me either.”

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[thesecretwriter]

a tied up situation - miguel o’hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider!female reader

warnings: angst – past ‘relationship’ between miguel and reader, fluff – soft!miguel moments ,smut – minors dni. this is probably the smuttiest thing i have ever written, penetrative seggs, mentions of biting (nonsexual), size kink, unprotected seggs, creampie. 

summary: in which y/n, a spider variant, holds miguel o’hara captive because he wants to take her back to HQ for the ‘crimes’ she has committed. However, the history the two share cause things to head in another direction. 

word count: 1.9k

a/n: so, this is my new mans and i had to share my thoughts about him with the world. enjoy :) 

minors/ageless blogs dni. 

masterlists  

Miguel felt himself gaining consciousness.

The room he was in was dimly lit, which he was thankful for. His hands were bound with chains, not wanting to give his talons a chance to help him break free.

"Should I be concerned that you just have chains lying around?" he asked, his voice deep and showing a tone of annoyance.

“With the way you have been hunting me down, do I really have a choice?” you ask him rhetorically, to which he rolls his eyes, trying to keep his cool despite the situation.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I have to hunt you down when you commit crimes,” He asked curiously, trying to gain some leverage in the situation.

“My crimes are nothing compared to what you should be focusing on,” you retort back. He would only see your deeds as crimes, not stopping to really evaluate the situation.

You stand in front of him. You knew in your mind that he had more than enough strength to break free. However, thanks to your own venomous spider bite, he would be helpless.

Miguel scoffed, he had witnessed you robbing banks and disappearing with heaps of money.

“You are the only spider being I know that has committed crimes. I watched you for months doing away with money and yet you’re keeping me hostage in what seems to be your apartment,” his heightened senses allowed him to hear the bustling noise from outside and the daily activities of your neighbours.

“Even though I have had my fair share of encounters with you, it baffles me that you haven’t figured out why I’m stealing all this money,” you say with bitterness in your tone.

He had to look up at you when talking, but you had crouched down to his level, settling your hands on his thighs. To you it was an innocent touch, but to Miguel it was anything but that.

You see, you and Miguel have a history with each other. You had once been part of Spider Society, helping Miguel on missions and fighting crime. However, when the canon events started taking place and you had to see the people you were friends with go through pain without doing anything. You left.

The pain of not having you in HQ had affected Miguel, more so since the two of you often pined after one another.

Miguel's façade quickly crumbled, and he breaths a deep sigh.

“Are you okay?” you ask, genuinely concerned.

Miguel chuckled darkly as he shook his head, trying to remain in control of the situation despite the growing desire he felt towards you.

"You underestimate me. These chains won't hold me forever, but when I break free, the only thing I'll do with you is take you back to HQ, where you won’t be leaving for a long time,” he smirked as you furrowed your brows.

In that moment, you didn’t like the way he looked at you. Yes, robbing banks is a crime, but he needed to know why you were doing it.

“I don't think giving money to the poor is a crime. Sure, the money isn't mine, but it rightfully belonged to the people that need it the most. Are you going to label me a criminal for doing what I think is right?”

Miguel's expression hardened as he glared at you, his alpha male persona taking over.

"I don't care what delusional thoughts you have. You and your vigilante ways are a danger to the community, and I'll do my part in stopping you. Whether it's taking you to HQ or making sure you never get the chance to do it again,"

Anger ran through your veins. You stood up from your crouched position and put your hands on his shoulders, feeling him tense beneath your hands. You glared at him, but quickly took notice of the way his eyes moved between your lips and back to your eyes.

Miguel let out a growl of frustration, trying to hold back his growing sexual desire towards you.

"Stop with the games. What do you want from me?" He asked, his voice rising in anger.

You turn away from him and face the computer screen on the computer in front of the two of you. It takes a moment for you to put it on and open the folder that breaks your heart.

I want you to see that the so called 'crimes' that I do is for the benefit of the poor. I give it to those who need it. I give it to the people who are left to fend for themselves on the street. Innocent children forced to grow up and take on responsibilities that they shouldn't see for years to come. So, yes, I will believe about my so called 'delusional thoughts' but at least I know there are children who are being fed and kept safe,”

Miguel couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he listened to you. For a moment, he thought about the families who might be benefiting from your deeds. He looked at the several images of hungry children begging on streets and those taking up jobs just to make enough for food.

“The banks that I rob are the ones owned by big time entrepreneurs that use it as a front for money laundering. I don’t target just any bank. These takes months of planning sometimes,” you explain to him. A part of you hopes that he will see the justification behind what you are doing.

The shared history between the two of you is the same reason you go to untie the chains from his hands. It’s the look in his eyes that let you know he will understand you.

He got up from the couch and towered over you. He rubbed his wrists and watched you intently. He could still feel you venom in his veins, but due to him having his own – it didn’t affect him as bad as you thought. The bite mark you left however, made him feel some kind of way.

He turned to leave but hesitated for a moment before looking back at you.

He doesn't see the frown on your face from the way he so easily thought of you as a criminal. You truly believed he was different.

"I hope you find it in your heart to one day know what I did was for the right of the children," You look to him with intensity and move your gaze away from him.

He hated knowing you felt such emotions because of him. Being tied up in the Spider Society left him with little free time, and the craving of wanting you back at his side was growing more and more in the moment.

Miguel couldn't help but feel a stirring as he watched you. He could feel his body betraying his principles as he walked towards you, his eyes locking onto yours.

"I won't justify your actions, but I can't deny the emotions I feel towards you," He muttered as he brought your body close to his and eventually pressed his lips to yours, pulling you close to him.

He couldn't help but indulge in his physical desires towards you, his hands roaming your body as he deepened the kiss.

You let your hands hold onto his shoulders and lean in more to the kiss

Miguel's hands moved to your back, pulling you in even closer, his tongue intertwining with yours as the passion between you two ignited. He could feel his desire growing stronger with each passing moment, and he knew he had to have you.

He broke the kiss, his breathing heavy as he looked at you with dark, lustful eyes. "I need you. Now," He growled before pressing his lips back onto yours, his hands moving to your clothes, hastily pulling them off.

You moan against his lip as you both struggle to take off each other’s clothes. His hands make quick work of ridding you from your clothes He pulled you against him, straddling his lap in the same couch he was tied against a mere few seconds ago.

Miguel groaned as you straddled his lap, feeling his erection grow harder under you. He moved his hands to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you in closer.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding up your back to unclasp your bra. He kissed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he moved lower, his mouth finding your breasts and he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting lightly.

He could feel his desire growing into an all-consuming ache as he continued to pleasure you, his hands moving to your panties, tearing them off without a second thought.

You scowl at him as he smirks at you. "You know I’ll get you a new pair," He took his cock and ran it against your slit. Coating himself in your arousal before putting his tip at your entrance and letting you sink down on him. You both moaned at the feeling.

Miguel groaned as you sank down onto him, feeling the tightness of your pussy grip him tightly. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling as he savored the feeling of you around him.

"You feel so good," he muttered, his hands moving to your hips as he began to move you up and down on his cock. He started out slow and deep, enjoying the feel of you before picking up the pace, his hips thrusting up to meet yours, creating a rhythm that soon turned into a heated pace.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he continued to fuck you hard, his hot breath mingling with yours as he gave into the desire, he felt towards you.

Miguel's grip on your hips tightened as he thrust harder into you, feeling the hot pleasure coursing through his veins. He knew that his grip was starting to leave bruises on your skin, but he couldn't stop himself from holding onto you tightly.

As he felt his orgasm building, he dug his claws into your skin, as he let out a growl of pleasure.

"You're mine," he muttered between thrusts, his voice rough with desire. With having him pull you against his chest, you couldn't help but moan at the thought of how his big arms are wrapped around you, handling you like a ragdoll. 

Your hips rocked against his and your quickened breathing and increase in heart rate let Miguel know you were close.

He began to relentlessly thrust into you, chasing his high and yours. With a few faster paced thrusts, he erupted inside you, filling you up with his hot, thick cum. His name left your lips as your orgasm washed over you.

Miguel groaned in pleasure, still lost in the pleasure of his orgasm. He continued to move his hips, riding out the last waves of pleasure as he pulled you close to him.

"Mine," he muttered, his voice husky with desire. "I never knew it could be like this."

He stroked your back gently, holding you close to him as he savored the afterglow of your heated exchange.

[sashi-ya]

𝑩𝒀𝑨𝑲𝑼𝒀𝑨'𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿 & 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑭 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜. [part 1]

some ideas I have written regarding Byaku and how I actually think of him when I write when it comes to sex. This analysis doesn't cover his kinks, as I believe that should be a separate post! So, if you wanna read about those tell me and I'll post it 💖. There are also two short stories, one of them will be posted veeeery soon 🙊

tw: MDNI. not strictly a smut piece, but it is about sex. there is a brief story about his teenage experience, it is not meant to be a "smut" story either. Do not read it in such way. Thanks.

Not a virgin, but pretty close. Raised with the idea of upholding the law no matter what I believe Byakuya had to be a pretty structured man, therefore I think he married Hisana before touching her. Also, he is a very romantic man (yes, he is. Imagine going against your whole family and ideals for love. Marrying someone that comes from an absolute different world just for love) so I do believe he must have wanted to wait for their first night as a married couple to make love to Hisana. Of course, the first time with your loved one it’s always wonderful and sweet, but also realistically clumsy (Which I find adorable, imagine a clumsy Byakuya blushing). So, unfortunately because of Hisana’s illness, I believe they haven’t had a lot of sex. Therefore, Byakuya is pretty unexperienced to me -at first-.  

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 .Oral sex; what is this pleasure given by the gods?. -this is not a Hisana slander- Following the same train of thoughts as the first point, to me, Byakuya never experienced oral sex on himself (I do believe he has done it, though. Being the protective man he is, he surely tried giving it before receiving it). So, the very first time your lips surrounds his hardness he could swear tears pool in his eyes… “This is… absolutely… delightful”. His delicate fingers brushing against your hair, still too timid and in pure awe to be pulling from it. Byakuya only wants to caress the person that has kneel in front of him to pleasure him. .At first, he won’t ask for sex, nor he will do anything to start it… until he can’t take it no more. Because he is unexperienced (that doesn’t mean he is not a good lover, for the love of god), he is hesitant to try. Even when his mind would get lost in the deepest forest of insecurity, he will try to repress the need as much as he can (he is always fighting an internal fight to repress his own desires, sex is no different). Normally you could say pissing him off or disobeying him would be the key to make him fall, but I believe he is much more moved by the need to posses such beautiful creature, in a state of weakness and submission towards him. Be clumsy, cough, tell him you are feeling cold, let him protect you… the touch of your delicate skin against his own will spread like a wildfire inside of his soul. .It will take some time, but making love will become a daily activity before bed. Byakuya learns new skills through tough work and dedication; it is not different when it comes to sex. Even if he still tends to repress his needs and desires as a constant, he slowly but surely let go that “savage” side of his inner workings. Exactly as Ukitake and Shunsui mentioned, Byakuya is a very impulsive man deep down. (Back when he was still a teenager he used to have quite a short fuse, he was a brat, and a very naughty kid…) So, once he become confident with his “skills” he will try to improve even more. So, get ready… as a sacred ritual, Byakuya will devour your body night after night.

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝 𝟎 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 & 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 and 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚

The Healing ponds of Squad 0… 「this will be posted as a separate story very soon」 Let me tell you a short brief while you wait; those healing waters and food from Squad 0 made him incredibly strong… but also absolutely, desperately horny. Truth is after everything had been said and done, Byakuya couldn’t help but feel the burning sensation of desire creeping through his stronger muscles… guess he was hungry for more than revenge and battle.

Self-pleasure , and the first time he met Senbonzakura. ⚠︎ Please, do not read this point like something sexual but more funny/analytic about his character. We are talking about a minor here ⚠︎

As said prior to this point, Senbonzakura, his zanpakuto spirit, is the manifestation of his inner world: a clumsy, heavily impulsive, bratty, and childish side of Byaku’s soul. So, when did he presented to this sweet Shinigami for the first time? When did Byakuya met the real spirit behind his shiny and beautiful sword? Yes, during one of those nights at the Kuchiki manor after a tough training session while being just a teenager. Way before he could met Hisana, Byakuya didn’t attend the Shinigami Academy, so he used to be a very lonely kid. That’s why our young Yoruichi used to visit him to train -and annoy him-. The young Kuchiki may seemed like he hated her, but truth is the “monster cat” represented fun, a challenge, companion and also a first approach to attraction. Knowing the nature of Yoruichi, we could say she never tried any perverse interaction to him, but there is not much you need to wake a teenager’s hormones anyway…

Yoruichi’s freedom and rebellious spirit in conjunction with her natural beauty, woke in our young Byakuya a bodily desire and the need to satisfy it. Then, drowned, almost choking by that divine dichotomy of what should be done and what shouldn’t, his hand did what any other kid would have done. It feel relieving, it tasted like guilty freedom to succumb to his real inner rebellious side…

“Master!” “Wha- WHAT?” “Master, should we pay a visit to the noble bath house? She is probably there…” “NO. WHY NOW? WHY DURING….” "I know, the image of those two pair of..." "NO STOP SHUT UP"

(let’s not mention how embarrassing it felt for the poor kid… yet Byakuya understood, so perfectly well, the true nature of Senbonzakura that same night)

[bryscorner]

Now Commencing: FallFest !

open during: september 13 – october 31

welcome all to fallfest ! this little project I decided to start because I wanted to start to write again, since I’ve lost motivation as of late. Since it’s also autumn now I wanted to have a fun way to interact with everyone again ! Also got inspo from the loveliest girls: @enviedear & @softspiderling (totally check them out !) Everyone can absolutely participate (following or not). So come one come all, and feast your eyes on the vast activities fallfest has to offer !

guidelines/rules: the only rule I will put down is to please refrain from requesting anything that has to do with smut ! this is a personal choice on my part so please don’t sent me or anyone hate (remember this is all for fun !) check this out to see who I currently write for to request a character, but you can request a character that I haven’t written for yet too ! You can submit a request during this duration for this project at my submissions box on my profile !

౨ৎ☕︎ pumpkin picking

mutuals only. send me a character of your choosing + your favorite autumn activity and I’ll make a little moodboard inspired by your request

౨ৎ☕︎ apple picking

send me a character + a song + an autumn activity and I’ll write a drabble

౨ৎ☕︎ hayride

tell me about yourself ! Send me your favorite scary movie & tv show recommendations/hot takes and I’ll give you my honest opinion & thoughts ! (fun debate style)

౨ৎ☕︎ haunted house

send me three characters and I’ll tell you what video game I’d think they would be in and whether or not they survive

→ any three characters (doesn’t have to be characters that I’ve written for !)

౨ৎ☕︎ sweets & drinks bar

send in a character + your favorite autumn sweet treat and I’ll write some baking/cooking hc’s for them whilst in the kitchen

౨ৎ☕︎ corn maze

send me a character + au and I’ll write some hc’s about it

examples for requests: copy and paste the fallfest activity of your choice, and follow what to submit for said activity you’ve chosen! If you’re submitting more than one FallFest activity, please submit each activity individually when on my submissions box !

tagging some pretty special people: @housetargaryenloyalist @benjinotes @xxselenite @earth4angels @eldrith @softspiderling @v3lary0ns @vee-mage @princessbellecerise @elletalking @hxtd @divinesolas @astrxq @cregnstark @bucksplum @cregan-starks @fyrewept @a-lina @enviedear @forevermoreharrington @lolaswrld @alymatcha @madame-fear @maysileeewrites @edsbug @yourneighbourhoodfrenchgirl @keerysfolklore @swordgrace

sorry if I forgot to tag you !

[thetempleofmara]

The books!

OK! Here’s a link to the Gol Hah Dov books I made for anyone who’s interested.  

A few things: 

This is a non-profit fanwork. Skyrim belongs to Bethesda (Don’t sue me Todd). 

This story was written by 99corentine, you can find the original story here [Gol Hah Dov]. Please do not re-upload, repurpose or rewrite the story without express permission from the author.

The layout and art was made by me (thetempleofmara) please don’t use or edit my art with anything AI related. But if you want to use some of the art/designs to make your own interpretation for a GHD book, go for it! Please show me if you do, I want to see.  

This print version including al art and design is for personal use only. 

I included the artzine as well, I tried contacting all the people who made fanart but either they are not active anymore or they never got my messages. If you don't want your art included in there for whatever reason please let me know and I'll take it out.

The artzine is also for personal use only.

Some more things:

As I said, I haven’t actually had the opportunity to print these books myself so, I’m not sure if there are going to be problems that pop up during the printing process. I followed print guides online as properly as I could but there might be some unforeseen complications that I was not aware of. 

The book margins were formatted according to Royal book size :234mm x156mm so try that size for the best result. 

The file sizes are BIG, don't try to download on your phone. 

Once again if you decide to print and bind it: show me, show me, show me. I am both threatening you and begging you. Thank you.

Uploaded to itch.io just for safety and size reasons and password protected just because I don’t want the books showing up on the store page. THE LINK:

PASSWORD:  itjustworks

@99corentine

[byoldervine]

Tips For New Writers

1. You ARE a writer. If you write fanfiction, you’re a writer. If you write one-shots, you’re a writer. If you only write for fun, you’re a writer. If you’ve never finished anything, you’re a writer. If you haven’t written in a while, you’re a writer. If you think up the most amazing plot but can never write down any words for it and you think it always sucks, trust me, you’re definitely a writer

2. Your first draft will never be good. It’s not the starting point that makes a story good, it’s the editing, so don’t try to strive for perfection in the first draft - you’ll only burn yourself out and get disheartened because you’re comparing the first draft of your story to the finished products of others, and they’ve likely undergone at least three edits MINIMUM

3. Never delete decent-sized chunks of your story. Retrying a sentence or even maybe a paragraph is alright, but if it’s anything more sizeable than that then you want to copy/paste it into a different document. I like to call it my ‘writing graveyard’ - you might be able to come back to it later on or find ways to tweak it that better fits the current narrative. And even if not, you can look back on it and see how far you’ve come

4. “Writing is a habit”. All this means is that, if you have some kind of consistent writing goal, even if it’s just 100 words every week, that’s still a guaranteed 100 words every week. A consistent writing practice means consistent progress will be made, rather than occasional spikes in productivity followed by long periods of no motivation. Just figure out what you can comfortably commit to without it feeling more like a chore than a fun activity

5. Make backups. If you work online, make sure there are backups of your work so it doesn’t get lost somehow. I’ve been writing all my first draft chapters in separate documents so far so at worst I’ll only lose one chapter if something bad happens, but I’ve also got everything backed up just in case

Best of luck in your writing projects!

[1d1195]

Sunday

This is an extra for Tuesday

It is all fluff (and maybe like some 18+ topics mentioned but not really described all that much) This anon was just asking about them as I was writing so I feel like it was fate that I posted about them next :) @fairytale07 sent me a beautiful long message about how much they'd like to see what happens next after their little front yard confession. @pumpkinspiceswift also inquired about an update at one point as well. So I hope all of you enjoy!

This is one of my favorites I’ve written, honestly. It's also one of my most popular works. I wanted to add more but I figured I could do another extra later on <3 It's a quick little check in that immediately follows the end of the original part. Just over 1.8K words.

(There's a flashback in the middle in italics.)

He loved her immediately. He loved her wholly. Completely. Harry was entranced. Simply put.

Because it really was love. She loved him. Actively. Maybe she never even stopped loving him. But she loved him with everything in her.

Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that vibrated through him as he gently swayed the sweet girl as she clung to him. “Y’okay, love?” He asked.

She nodded against him silently. Gently, he kissed the side of her head, happy to have her in his arms. “D’you want to go inside?” He started to pull away, but her arms squeezed around him tighter.

“I don’t want to let go,” she admitted.

Harry felt a tug in his heart. God, she was lovely. Even after all this time. He chuckled. “I’ll grab y’right back once we’re inside,” he promised.

“Embarrassed for your neighbors to see me?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes, pinching her sides lightly to tickle her. “No, y’goose,” he muttered. “Jus’ don’t want t’subject them to the hot make out session m’about t’throw myself into,” he brushed his lips against her temple.

She released a nervous giggle. “Oh?”

“Only if y’want of course,” he said rubbing one of his hands up and down her spine while the other cupped the back of her head. As much as he loved holding her like this, he wanted to see her beautiful face and kiss her until his lips went numb. Her whole body had a reaction to his statement. His kind request, his promise of nothing more if she didn’t want it. It made her legs feel like jelly. Her heart reduced to a puddle.

“Oh, I very much want,” she nodded assuredly against him.

*

Harry propped his head up with one hand while the other slowly brushed her hair behind her ear. “Y’okay?” He asked as she sighed while running her index finger outlining the butterfly on his abdomen.

“I haven’t had good sex in a really long time it seems,” she murmured.

He snorted. As he chuckled, he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks at her assessment. He felt shy even after all this time. “Y’always know jus’ how to improve m’self-esteem, kitten.”

“You deserve it after that,” she sighed, smiling at his ribs. She placed a kiss on his chest, and he thought that maybe he would never leave this bed if she was going to be in it. It was as if the time apart didn’t mean anything. He loved her immediately—the second he set eyes on her in the dark coffee shop prepared to protect her with his body as a shield, if necessary, just under a week ago. He loved her wholly. Completely. Harry was entranced. Simply put. Nothing but love for the sweet girl kissing the butterfly on his stomach.

They were quiet for a few moments, just touching one another in post-love bliss. Because it really was love. She loved him. Actively. Maybe she never even stopped loving him. But she loved him with everything in her.

“Angel?” He asked quietly.

“Hmm...”

“What s’all this mean t’you?”

She paused briefly. “Can we just...wait a few more minutes?” She asked. “I’m nervous to have this conversation and I don’t think I’ve had an orgasm that good since before we broke up and I don’t want to lose that feeling just yet.”

He chuckled again shaking his head at her and leaned forward to kiss the spot of her hair where he was just brushing his fingers against. “I can give y’another one of those in a few minutes, love,” he sounded very seductive. It made her heart flutter, and she felt her cheeks warm at his voice.

“Think our little talk might ruin it,” she muttered.

He frowned. Did that mean this wasn’t...we’re they not...getting back together? The idea saddened him. But Harry had an arrangement with another woman for nearly the last six months. He wouldn’t love it, but he could have an arrangement with her. He would...well it seemed a bit crazy, but Harry would do anything to have her back. Just seeing her at the coffee shop over the last six days had been enough to refire the passion he felt for her. Sharing a bed with her the other night gave him a sense of calm and he didn’t even know upset. Even just being near her right now was a heaven he didn’t know still existed. “Why’s that?” He had to ask.

She sighed—they were doing this now. It made sense; you didn’t have a hot make out session that turned into leg-numbing sex with your ex of two years after not seeing him for another two years only for him to make sure you were okay while you worked for almost a week without having a serious talk.  Rolling onto her back, Harry scooted closer to her. “Did anything change?” She wondered.

Harry kept his hand on her face. “Like what?”

“Well...we broke up because we were at two different places in our lives.”

Harry shrugged. “Our two separate lives also brought us back together anyway.”

She smiled and Harry couldn’t believe she was real. “Didn’t think of it like that,” she mumbled and kissed his chest. As worried as Harry felt, it was hard to not appease her. He wanted to have this talk as much as she did.

“Angel.”

“Hmm?”

“I would love t’get back together,” he whispered.

She looked up at him from the butterfly that she had been giving so much attention to. It wasn’t that she felt awkward around Harry. Actually, she felt far from it. But his gentle whisper made her swoon and she felt utterly shy. “Yeah?”

He nodded and gazed at her with the kindest smile she had ever had the pleasure of looking at. “Would y’want t’start over?”

She bit her lip and thought for a moment. Harry didn’t feel this nervous the first time he asked her out. Certainly, didn’t feel nervous while he was producing near pornographic moans just fifteen minutes ago. But the pause she gave right now; well, it made him terrified of her response. Maybe this was just sex. Maybe it was just a really wonderful thank you for his protection over the last week.

“Where were you this morning?” She asked instead.

Still nervous he blinked and tilted his head at her curiously at her question. “Mum’s,” he said. “Gemma and I have brunch with her every Sunday.”

Relief sighed through her, and she nodded. “I want nothing more than to be a couple again,” she promised and wiggled closer to his face and pressed her lips over his. Harry chuckled against her mouth causing tingles to flutter through her mouth and brain. “But,” she mumbled. “Could we pick up where we left off in a few spots?”

“Like what? Or where?” He kissed her again.

“Like,” she blushed, her lips attached to his between words and phrases. “Uh...” she said feeling a bit dizzy by his sweet breath and warm mouth.

She was transported to the fifth month of when they originally dated. Her mouth had been itching to say three words to Harry. Back when they were making cookies from scratch for Niall’s mom’s birthday the middle of university break between semesters. She had knelt to get the measuring spoon she dropped on the floor and bumped into Harry’s hand as she returned from the floor, his hand pressing firmly against the corner of the counter.

He didn’t seem to pay any attention to the motion, his eyes scanning the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip bag. “Y’okay?” He had asked turning toward her as she stood straight again, looking at Harry and wondering how this wasn’t an earth-shattering moment for him.

“Hmm?” She asked nervously.

“Bumped your head?” He said kissing her forehead as he paused his reading and then rubbed the back of her head. As if she didn’t injure his hand herself from hitting it against the counter. Or from the fact that he didn’t seem to pay any attention to protecting her.

She nodded mutely.

He smiled sweetly, kissing her gently and then cupping her face. She dropped the spoon again because she could see it on his face—he was going to say it. The chocolate chips spilling onto the counter, a few stray ones falling on the floor as well. Her heart nearly stopped. “I love you,” he said simply.

She felt like she might explode in the middle of the kitchen he shared with Niall. “God, I love you too,” she answered, and Harry laughed this gorgeous, perfect laugh that made all her organs mushy. It wasn’t that she wanted to say it before him, it was just that he deserved so much love because he was Harry.

“Like what, kitten?” He asked, his voice getting muffled by her lips. This was her chance. She could say it first for the second time and give Harry all the love he rightfully deserved. However, he was making it difficult by kissing her so much the air was thinning and making her brain foggy.

There was so much to figure out. How did it change their old relationship? How would it change this new one? She was starting a real job soon. Niall still lived with Harry. They've known each other for so long now. How did it change all of it?

But despite all the questions floating in her mind it really didn't matter to her. None of it. All that mattered was Harry and his beautiful dimples and his kind green eyes.

And the kisses he was distracting her with.

“Like...” she sighed and pressed her hands to his face to stop the kisses that were interrupting the neurons in her brain from behaving properly. He smirked at her as if he knew what he was doing to her—he probably did. She gazed at those perfect green eyes. “Like, I still love you, so much and I don’t want to pretend that I don’t, so we have to go through the whole first I love you again...because I love you. So much,” she told him her cheeks warming with blood in nervousness that maybe he didn’t feel the same way yet. She wouldn’t mind or blame him. It was early obviously. But he was there, and he deserved to know this was her and him and she loved him regardless of if he loved her back. "I don't even care if you say it back, I just need you to know...I love you so much." It had been four years since they first said it and it didn’t seem like she ever truly felt anything but love for him since she first said it. “I don’t know if I ever stopped.”

There wasn’t a second of hesitation from him. As if he had also been transported back to the very same moment she had been thinking about. “God, I love you too.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

If you like this story, you can find the rest of my writing here: Masterlist

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🧝‍♀️MYSTERIOUS HALF-NYMPH DEMIGOD (?) 🧝‍♂️ (PART 2)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is PART 1 of the Mysterious Half-Nymph Demigod Headcanons. Due to the size limit of Tumblr, I had to split the entire work into two. [LINK TO PART 1 HERE] This is just 1 out of the 4 works I have planned and written for, and these works will be categorised as the MISCELLANEOUS GODS due to not the fact these gods are minor or anything, but because I did mention this in an ask before and it's easier to think about due to the canon PJO worldbuilding. These works will be a bit more loose since I'm taking a shot in the wild so hopefully you guys like it. Thanks for reading!!

You merge yourself into camp life, doing the same activities as the other campers like you’re one of them. The days go by relatively normal as you start following the wishes of your parents; with you even making friends along the way. By then,  the reaction of people knowing you’re probably half-nymph ebbs and flows; some still whisper as you walk by, and some simply do not care. 

You find things you’re good at and the ones you’re bad at. Though without anything definitive that may help you with who your parent is; given being nature spirits. Even as you help out with the children of Demeter and Dionysus with the strawberry fields, they don’t particularly flourish under your care. Meg very bluntly tells you unless your parent was a strawberry nymph, then you’re just tapped into having a green thumb. A boy with brown hair and freckles on his face quickly slaps his hand over her face before giving you a stammered apology for his friend before his eyes land on you. You swear you see his eyes flash an unearthly blue in surprise before his breath hitch. You attempt to ask what’s wrong before the boy excuses him and Meg, dragging away from you. You only see Meg kick his butt, yelling at him in the distance and the boy hurriedly apologising but also gesturing wildly at you. 

Yet between the camp activities and almost mundane acts, you find yourself being pulled to the side occasionally to be asked questions on your parentage. No one’s sure if you’re ever going to get claimed considering that regular nymphs don’t have a claim, nor your deity parent would have a claim that they would recognize. That dose of reality dampens your spirit and you always find yourself in a rut. In those moments, you find yourself either being drawn to the water down by the shore, sitting on the ground and letting the water lap at your bear feet as you stare out at the horizon; or finding your feet taking you towards Cabin 3, The Poseidon Cabin. As if you’re being pulled towards it. You never tried entering in, just staring at the strange familiarity of it. 

Eventually, one particular night, you were having a dream. You know it was something from your childhood and your nymph parent. You were so close to getting that detail but before you could grasp it, you’re startled awake by the foot kicked in your side. You let out a gasp, torn out of your dream as you look at the offender in anger to only see the person next to you hanging in a strange limb covering in what looks like to be military grade sticky string. Grumpy, you decide to take a little walk outside, cooling your nerves. Again, you find yourself at the Poseidon Cabin. You sit at the steps, letting its presence wash its presence over you and calm your nerves.  

“So…uhh, can I help you?” you hear as you jump out of your skin and whip your head towards the sound. There in his glory, you see Percy Jackson. You haven’t seen him before, only hear of him but you feel that strange familiarity. You quickly stammer out your explanation and while Percy seems confused, he listens well before you start to see something like understanding in his eyes. 

There you eventually see Percy more often as moral support. You find yourself easily talking to him as he sort of helps you, teaching you how to fight with a sword and recounts his tale of his own attempt to figure out who his godly father was. You’ve heard the story before but not as detailed and personal from the source. You find yourself enamoured. 

It’s not long after you learn who your nymph parent is.

Everything comes to a head when its time for Capture the Flag. The Hermes cabin are on the Blue team, with Athena leading the charge. Percy pats your back as a teammate and tells you it’ll be fine. He told you how he got claimed but something about it seems like deja vu. The game continues on as it does but eventually you find yourself cornered by a couple of demigods who have taken it their personal mission to bully you for being half-nymph. You fight 1 vs 4 and then you find yourself pushed to the edge of the cliff. Your feet dangerously close and cornered. Yet you hear a voice calling to you to the waters below and you fall back. The water catches your fall, enveloping you like a mother’s hug and then you find yourself being rushed with power.

You rise out of the water, with it swirling beneath you while raising you upwards like a pedestal. You watch your bullies look up at you with awe and fear, as you look down at them. You lost your sword but in your hand was a trident. 

The game came to an end with a win to your team and your enemies washed up on the shore. You find yourself walking down the steps of water and then reality hits you.  You see Percy and everyone else staring at you. You hear people whispering that you’re a child of Poseidon but as you look at Percy, you see him come to the same conclusion, you both know…you’re not. 

Then everyone gasps, yelling at the dolphin claim over your head in confusion before you hear some others curse. You feel the earth start to shake in anger and the waters crash and rumble, causing people to shriek at the rising tide. Your head is desperately looking around as people are scrambling to get out of the rapidly rising water with the ground shaking beneath their shaky legs. You can hear Percy yell furiously at the water, grabbing you to his side protectively as the water takes over.  As the water swirls around you, you can hear two people yelling in the water but your ears are ringing. Percy has you close to his side, making sure you don’t get swept away and you can make out him yelling at a man before you. You see a tall woman with long black hair, pinked back in a net of pearls and silk with eyes dark as mocha; her flowing white gown looked like seafoam, paired with a circlet of polished red craw claws. By the woman’s side, you saw a man who you saw so much Percy in him. The man and woman seemed to be having an argument, their hands gesturing to you and Percy. The son of Poseidon stood beside you with his sword being held limply before you saw he was getting more and more irritated before he let out a New York whistle, gathering the two’s attention. He started saying something to them with both gods looking a bit meekish before nodding along with whatever Percy was seeing before the two couple seemed to reconcile. The woman leaned down to you, gently brushing your hair gently as you remembered who she was. The man gave you a weak smile and nod, patted Percy’s shoulder.

Your ears are roaring with adrenaline and confusion, and with the swirling tides, you can’t hear anything. So you focus on what’s in front of you. Then it hits you that the woman looks familiar to you, then you see your features on the woman…then you realize, no you’ve been seeing some of her features on your face in the mirror. 

The water recedes and you hear people call out your names. You turn as Chiron gallops in front of you as Percy curses. People ask what’s going on before he sighs as he puts a hand on your shoulder, gathering the crowd’s attention with a New York whistle before addressing them. 

“The bloodline is determined. Queen and Goddess of the Sea, Consort of Poseidon. Hail, [y/n] [l/n], child of Amphitrite.”

SILENCE

Then,

Chaos.

You see the child of Hera and Persephone look at you with a dumbfounded look before they walk over to you, patting your backs in sympathy as you are revealed to be Amphitrite’s demigod child. Completing the Big Three’s Wives’ Demigod Children.  

 🌊 AMPHITRITE: QUEEN OF THE SEA, GODDESS OF THE SEA, MEMBER OF THE NEREIDS 🔱

A/n: So it turns out I forgot I had Rick Riodan and Rocco's Percy Jackson Greek Gods book this entire time that I bought YEARS ago, so I dusted it off and read a couple bits and BOY, I should've read it this sooner. I'm now using the knowledge from the canonized information perspective of the PJO's of the gods so here's one of them! So yeah, turns out out of the Big Three Wives, Amphitrite is the only goddess out of them that has no problems with Poseidon having relationships outside of their marriage and treats his children pretty well. In fact, Amphitrite made Percy cookies, and both of them have a pretty good relationship actually.

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 12

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* References to menstruation, heavy flirting, talk of blood drinking, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: A budding friendship with your young mother gives you plenty of things to think over, but it's your relationship with Max that is growing the most. Notes: We are name dropping Gilded Age families and embracing our newfound historical fiction genre, folx! Please enjoy a photo of Dolly's teahouse as it exists today in 2023 as your weekly photo ❤ Apologies for any errors that I might have missed. I am a very sleepy girl after a week of seasonal chaos at work.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

If yesterday's adventure to the dressmaker showed you anything, it was that the simple act of dressing and undressing in this time was going to be an adventure. Snagging a newspaper from a hollering newsboy on the street corner had told you that you were in 1885, and now – on your second day in October 1885 – the reality is setting in. Renee came upstairs to you after lunch to help you change in a walking dress, and while you didn't protest it did seem extremely unnecessary until you remembered that yesterday the skirts of your dress had dragged through the dirt for three blocks in downtown Newport. A walking dress, apparently, has a shorter skirt and no train. Which means no dragging in the dirt while you walk. And suddenly the seemingly ridiculous amounts of times that Gilded Age ladies changed their clothing during the day begins to make more sense: simply changing the outer shell of your outfit makes it 'suitable' for many different activities. It's still a little ridiculous, but less so than you had thought only yesterday.

"Renee, would you make sure that Mrs. Phillips is still available for our walk?" Annie asks as the maid helps her tie the laces in her stays before she slides the skirt over her head. She's been looking forward to this walk since yesterday, hoping to have some time to speak to another woman closer to her age that is not her mother about the budding relationship with Emmanuel. A newly made bride would understand, especially since they eloped.

“Of course, miss.” Renee helps Annie into the bodice that matches the skirt she has just put on, carefully looking each button in the back to ensure her mistress is comfortably and appropriately attired. She can leave Miss Annie to choose her own hat and jewelry as she wishes and curtsies politely before going upstairs.

******

“So…nice little outing planned with Annie.” Max ventures as he watches you carefully arrange your hair like Renee had shown you. You’re beautiful and it seems like this time only magnifies that. Or maybe it’s because there’s fewer distractions around him. “Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.” Frowning heavily at the mirror as you try to get this hairdo right, you glance up and to the side where Max is sitting a few feet away watching you. “I haven’t spent time alone with my mother since I was eighteen. And this…she is that person but isn’t that person at the same time. At this point I’m just thrilled we’re only walking the grounds and not in town.” Even though the grounds of Chateau-sur-Mer are much larger in this time, it’s still a relief. These are safe, secluded acres. The only people you’ll run into are your grandparents or their staff.

“Remember that even if she’s not the mother you knew, she’s the woman that will become your mother. It will be an interesting comparison.” Max offers.

“You know how much she loved the curried lamb we had for dinner last night?” The spectacular crown roast that Mrs. Taylor had presented was slightly different in looks than the roasted legs of the same animal that your mother had done when you were a kid, but the taste was deliciously nostalgic. “That was her recipe. That I remembered from being a kid.”

“That’s something of a paradox.” Max snorts. “You bring back the favored family recipe and in turn, it’s passed down to you.” You were right, time travel is weird.

“Time travel is bizarre.” You whisper, barely speaking for being aware of the possibility of being overheard.

“You’re telling me.” Max snorts, shuffling behind you and putting his cool hands on your shoulders. “I have some business with 'John'.” He tells you with a wry grin. “But I will be back soon and want to hear everything about your walk.”

“It’s so weird.” A small smirk tucks into the corner of your mouth. “I know neither of us has ever called him his real name, but calling him John just feels weird.”

“It’s like Rumpelstiltskin.” He jokes, finding the comparison hilarious.

“Maybe he is Rumplestiltskin,” you joke, sending the two of you into a fit of giggles just before a knock is heard at the door.

Renee waits for a moment before she enters the room. “Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, I hope your night was restful.” She nods respectfully and looks towards where you are sitting. “Miss Annie was inquiring if you were still free for the walk, Ma’am?”

“Of course, Renee.” You stand from sitting beside Max and smile, reassuring yourself that you can do this without punching a hole in the space-time continuum. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I will let Miss Annie know.” She nods politely and then turns around to exit the room just as quietly as she had entered.

“Thank you, Renee.” Blowing out a breath, you lean over to kiss Max and flash him a thumbs up that is far more forced than anything else. “Here goes nothing.”

“You will have an amazing time.” He predicts softly. “Knock ‘em dead, Tiger.”

“What happened to my little ketchup packet?” You tease, kissing him one more time before opening the bedroom door. “We’ll be around the grounds if you need us.”

“Enjoy your time, my dear.” In reality, Max would love to be there with you, but he knows you need this time alone with the one who would one day give birth to you. He watches your skirts swish down the hallways and he grins as he remembers dancing with you last night after dinner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Annie is repining her hat in place in a mirror, and you stop for a moment of peace to just admire your mother. Always beautiful and always extraordinarily competent, she even manages elegant self-sufficiency in the face of a society that tells her to sit down and keep her mouth shut. It’s hard to watch her being so happy with Emmanuel when you know what’s to come, but you had bitten your tongue last night while she talked about him at dinner and you’ll bite your tongue today too. Seeing her happy again, even for a little while, is enough.

“I find myself positively - what was the phrase Mr. Phillips used last nigh? ‘Raring to go’ this afternoon.” She seems quite pleased with her use of the phrase and takes one last look before she turns away from the mirror towards you. “Oh dear, did the modiste not have a hat for you yesterday?”

“I admit, I did not know which hats would be best, so I didn’t choose any.” This is probably a huge faux pas but you know less than nothing about late 19th century hats anyway. It seemed easier just to skip it. Max, on the other hand, had acquired both a top hat and a bowler with glee.

“Renee.” Annie calls out to the maid. “Please fetch my brown crushed velvet with the flowers?” She asks. “And the pins to secure it. I think that would look stunning with your dress.”

Renee is off like a shot before you can protest, and back again with hat and pins on hand just seconds later. It’s astonishing how fast the vampires in this household can move when they’re not trying to disguise their nature.

“Yes, I thought the flowers would match.” The pale pink and white of your walking dress match the flowers and the color of the brown velvet compliments your skin beautifully. “It will be perfect.”

“I bow to your superior taste.” And since it’s about the six hundredth time in your entire life that your mother has insisted that you put on a hat before going out the door, you don’t protest. All those other times had been talking about winter hats keeping you warm, but it’s the spirit of the thing. “You’re very generous.”

Once the pins are set and Annie has adjusted to her liking, she clicks her tongue. “You must keep it. My gift to you. It looks so much better on you than it does on me.”

“As I said. Generous.” She has always been generous, as along as you’ve known her, and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder gently. “Shall we?”

“It’s a beautiful afternoon.” Warm for the season but it plays into the atmosphere beautifully. No need to bundle up. “Although I believe we will have snow soon. Winter in Newport is divine.”

"I hear it piles up on rooftops like icing on cake." It was something that Allison had told you just a few days ago, and the mental image had just stayed in your mind. Living there and replaying for you over and over like a present. "I'm looking forward to it."

“What a charming comparison! It does!” She laughs, clear and bright in the afternoon sunshine and loops her arm through yours. “Perhaps we will sip tea and watch it pile up before we convince Emmanuel and your dear Max to take us out for a frolic in it. Mr. Taylor has sharpened the blades of the sleigh. So much better than a carriage in snow.”

"I'll have Max makes us cups of his hot chocolate," you offer, almost conspiratorially. "It's the best I've ever had and he won't tell me his secrets."

“Truly?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “So he enchanted you with his chocolate?”

"Amongst other things." The question brings heat to your cheeks immediately as you step out the door together. "I wasn't sure about him at first, but we found our way together quickly."

“It wasn’t love at first sight?” She asks, curious about it since you are soulmates. She had always assumed you just knew.

"Max can be a bit...full of himself," you admit with a laugh. "I thought he was very handsome, at first sight. If that counts for anything. We did not start to find our way together until we found a shared love of dancing."

“I must admit…” your mother bites her lip. “I spied on the two of you last night. You move to beautifully together.”

"Dancing is a passion that we share, and it is something I am very grateful for." That is probably an understatement, but you're not exactly going to explain competition ballroom to your semi-immortal mother in 1885. That's just...it's too much to even think about. "With the party tonight, I think there will be plenty of occasion for you to dance with him as well, if you like."

"I had hoped that you would allow me to have one dance with your husband." She admits. "Although, I will anxious be awaiting the reactions from all the dancers when they see the two of you dance."

"It will be nothing they have not seen before with so many other couples." If you're honest with yourself, you're trying to remember everything you can about traditional, historical dances instead of the modern competition dances. It isn't much, but you're pretty sure you can muddle through if you couple that with everything you can remember from watching BBC period dramas. "And Max will be very glad to dance with you. I promise it."

“Are you still enjoying the status of newlywed?” She asks, the pace of the walk nice and slow as the gravel crunches under your boots.

“I am.” Almost to your own surprise, considering it came out of nowhere in a letter from your abuela and then manifested almost immediately in life. You’ve actually found yourself wishing it was real. “Max is very attentive. And very sweet.”

The grin she shoots you is knowing. "I doubt a newly married husband is just sweet." She hums. "I think he would be passionate."

“There has not yet…been an opportunity to be passionate.” It spills out before you can really stop yourself, and instantly you have burning hot cheeks all over again. “The marriage was so recent, you see.”

“Oh- so you haven’t-“ her brows lift in surprise and she bites her lip in embarrassment. “My apologies for prying.”

"How could you have known?" It makes perfect sense to assume that a married couple has had sex in any time period. But you don't want to have to explain to your mother about your last ex or anything of the bruises that relationship left on your soul.

“Blast.” The curse comes out silently. “I was hoping to talk with another woman near my age.” She admits quietly.

“About…intimacy?” Even though this has the potential to become very awkward, you just can’t say no to her. Not to this young, excited version of your mother who is just beginning to learn about life.

“Not exactly intimacy.” She hedges slightly. “More how you knew Mr. Phillips was the one.” She confesses. “I feel like Emmanuel is my soulmate but I don’t know.”

“We share a mark.” In this specific way, you know you’re lucky. Having a birthmark meant nothing ever had to happen to you for you to find your soulmate. Some people in history have deliberately injured themselves in order to have scars. “He saw it on my skin and showed me his matching one. We were…quite lucky that it was that simple.”

“Is it….visible?” She asks, looking over your neck and hands. It’s not as if much skin is exposed to the public in your dresses.

“It was. In what I was wearing at that time.” Although, it does occur to you now that keeping your birthmark hidden from your mother might be wise. Otherwise she will put the pieces together later on. “It is very easy to cover, so it was unusual for it to be visible. But…a good thing. It ended up to be a very good thing.”

“I feel that Emmanuel is my soulmate.” She confesses with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. “I cannot explain it, but my heart- it jumps when he kisses me.” It might be scandalous to admit that she allowed him to kiss her, but she so completely enthralled with him from the moment they met.

It might be cruel or just insensitive to point out to her that her physical response to the kiss could just be lust, especially since in this time you’re pretty sure ladies weren’t even supposed to kiss a man until they were engaged. “Do you have any marks of your own?” You ask instead, realizing that you actually can’t remember if your mother had any when you were a child. Those memories are still…unpleasantly hazy. Even when so many other memories are now crystal clear in your mind.

“No.” She shakes her head sadly. “None of my own. Because of my…parentage, my skin heals without blemish. I only have one scar on my leg from my soulmate, and it would be completely inappropriate to show it to Emmanuel.”

“Perhaps you could ask him if he has scars instead?” Filing away that tidbit of information in your mind, you note to yourself that it fully explains why you never seemed to get the typical scratches and scars of childhood that your friends all did. “If you feel that he could be your soulmate…” Which, of course, you know he is but you can’t say so. “It might be a way to bridge the topic. Privately, of course.”

“What a good idea!” She exclaims. “He would not think me too forward, you think?”

You can’t help but smirk, looking over at your mother and tilting your head in amusement. “I think if he has already kissed you more than once, then being too forward by asking a question is probably not on your list of concerns.”

“I- you are correct.” She bites her lip and looks worried. “He probably thinks that I am unsuitable. Being so free.”

“Or perhaps he thinks that you feel as passionately about him as he feels about you.” Not really willing to get into the whole restricted sexuality thing of this time period, you shrug. “It is not such a terrible thing to be passionate.”

“My parents have never thought so, but others are not so accepting.” She huffs, rolling her eyes at the way the world is.

“Then I find myself in firm agreement with your family.” Which isn’t odd at all, when you consider that they’re your family, too.

“They are considered progressives, if people really knew their thoughts.” She clutches your arm. “But my parents do not speak about politics in social settings.”

“I understand it is considered very impolite.” At least, you’re pretty sure you read that in a book once. You hang onto her as tightly as she hangs on to you as you walk together, strolling down the length of the grounds first. All the way down in the direction of what is now a rose garden.

“That doesn’t mean that some do not talk politics.” She snorts. “Plenty of men try to do business deals during the social gatherings.”

"Of course they do." Nothing about that surprises you, but the woman your mother is at this point in your life seems disappointed by it. "But that only makes it easier to pick out the sort of men who find it impossible to relax and enjoy themselves. And those are the type of men to avoid, in general."

“You are right.” She agrees. “Hopefully Emmanuel is not that type of man. He doesn’t seem to be, but I have not been to many social gatherings with him.”

“How long have you known him?” There are vague memories you have in your head of a story about your parents being soulmates, but it is old and faded and feels wrong. You know they weren’t, but at some point you believed otherwise. Pushing away the knowledge that this is the woman who put you under the spell that changed those exact memories, you refocus on your mother and her smile. It’s exactly the same as when you were little — bright like sunshine on a summer day.

“Two weeks.” She admits, slightly embarrassed by how fast her feeling developed for Emmanuel. “We met at the Season opening ball.”

“It took me no longer than that to realize what Max means to me.” It was significantly less, if you’re honest, but your story is a bit odd to tell. Not that you’re itching to tell anything of the sort right now. “They say that with soulmates, sometimes your heart knows right away.”

“I feel that way with Emmanuel.” She confesses. “If he is not my soulmate, I will be horribly embarrassed. Because my feelings for him are already so strong. Especially because he’s human.”

“Being human is not a crime or a personal failing,” you remind her with a hint of amusement in her voice. She has no idea that she’ll raise you in such a human way. The irony of the moment is thick. “He must know that you are different, doesn’t he? It seems…very important for him to know.”

“He knows.” She nods quickly. “He- it is very fortuitous that he does not mind. He actually was curious about my father’s nature.”

Curious. It will be that curiosity that dooms everything, but you have to swallow that knowledge and not say a word. “It is fortunate to find open minded people in the world,” you say instead.

“Yes.” She nods. “I know it must have been a shock for you when you realized your husband’s nature?”

“It certainly was.” That night in the sitting room is burned into your memory, and you don’t think it will ever leave no matter how long you live. “But I have never felt anything but safe with him. There are so many stories of men whose dispositions change when they are transformed. If that was true of Max, then it has been a change for the better.”

“How interesting.” She shakes her head. “I must admit, I do not meet many of my father’s other offspring. Not for many years.”

“I imagine it must be very different for you.” You observe carefully, not wanting to overstep in anyway. “To have so many sort of…step-siblings? In a way?”

“No.” She shakes her head and smiles softly. “They have been there before I was. I am jealous in a way.” She admits. “They share a bond I do not, with him. Will never share.”

“But you share a bond with your father that they never could, as well.” You point out, squeezing her arm gently as you walk. “I am sure some of them must be jealous of you for that same reason. To be his child through more than the sharing of blood is remarkable.”

“I have often wondered.” She admits. “Though I have no desire to be a vampire. It is bad enough I crave rare meats during my menses.”

The admission is enough to make you snort, and you cover your mouth to feign some kind of ladylike manners before all-out laughing behind your glove. “Forgive me,” you manage, barely getting back your composure after a few seconds. “I was just…not expecting you to say that. At all.”

She giggles herself, aware of how horribly inappropriate it was and she’s glad you aren’t uptight. “If you beg forgiveness then I must as well.” She hums.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You promise her as your mutual laughter subsides. “I just never want you to think I’m laughing at you.”

“Even if you were, don’t friends laugh at each other?” She asks, still giggling.

“I suppose they do.” With her arm around yours it is a stark contrast to your childhood, but no less happy. She leans into your side as any close friend would and it makes you eternally glad that you fucked up that protection spell in such a way that it sent you straight back to your family. “Does that mean we are friends now?”

“I believe we are.” Annie decides with a grin. “We will be the best of friends.”

“I truly hope so.” At least, you think to yourself as you smile at her on your walk, for as long as it lasts.

“When I have a daughter, I will name her after you.” She decides with a pleased look on her face. “Dolly is a delightful name.”

“It…isn’t my given name.” Suddenly last night’s lamb recipe seems like nothing in the face of…becoming your own namesake. But still, you tell her your name. The name that appears on your birth certificate and all of those other things. “Dolly is…is what my family calls me.”

“You must think me so foolish.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Your proper name is gorgeous. I can see why your mother chose it. Was it a special name for her?”

“She—” As soon as it’s on the tip of your tongue you almost groan, realizing what the truth of the situation is. “She said it was her best friend’s name when she was young.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Annie sets her chin and nods. “Then I will carry on her tradition and use the name for my daughter.” She promises you. “You and Max can rest assured.”

“Then we should name our daughter Annie.” It was already in your head for the very clear reason that it was your mother’s name, but somehow making the pact with her like this is all the sweeter. “And we will carry each other together always.”

“So we shall.” The scenery in the gardens is nearly forgotten as you walk, arm in arm together. “I am looking forward to our trip on Emmanuel’s personal train car. Can you imagine? A car all to yourself?”

“Where do you wish to go?” It’s cool to you to be traveling in a real Pullman car for a completely different reason — what she views at the height of technology is something you’ve only read about in history books. “I’m sure he would agree to anywhere you choose.”

“Anywhere.” She say dreamily. Willing to go anywhere with her beau. “Do you have a particular destination in mind?”

“People speak so very highly of New York.” And in your own tone, you’ve enjoyed the city immensely. So much so that the idea of seeing it in the 1880s is nearly irresistible.

“Ohhh we should go!” She latches onto the idea immediately. “We can dine in the best restaurants and shop. Their modistes are amazing. Perhaps we can find something truly special for the ball.” She leans in conspiratorially, “I am hoping that Emmanuel proposes.”

“I would not be surprised if he did.” Wracking your mind, you can’t remember now if Yayo had said that your mother had been engaged or even married to her soulmate, but knowing what will eventually happen means you have to force a smile while your mother beams sunnily beside you. Unfortunately you’re sure it looks fake enough that it’s worth changing the subject. “But even if it does not come soon, the ball will still be lovely. Does your mother throw one at the same time each year?”

“Always.” She laughs. “Samhain was when mother and father met.” She explains. It is a special time of year for them.”

“It is something very special to celebrate, then.” In fact, you earmark the fact for yourself as well. That is why Mrs. Taylor jump so quickly in the idea of the coven having a Samhain masquerade. “They are very fortunate. To have such an enduring love story.”

“Yes.” She huffs a sigh and rolls her eyes. “But that means that a lot of expectation is placed on my shoulders too. Being their daughter.”

“You will have whatever story is best for you. Your life is your happiness, not theirs. Whatever they may think.” Realizing you e just given your mother advice — something which is probably definitely considering messing with history, you catch yourself and smile. “At least, that is what my dear friend says of her family.”

“It is my life.” She agrees. “So far, my life has been what they have wanted, but I cannot always please them and my own heart.”

“You will know when the time is right to become captain of your own ship.” You assure her, knowing full well that there will be multiple times in the future when it will be necessary. “But rushing towards it helps no one. Enjoy the time you have with someone else at the helm.”

“It is one of the reasons I have yet to marry.” She laughs slightly. “That and I wish to marry my soulmate.”

Clearing your throat slightly, you glance at her and consider for a moment that ultimately, she will end up losing Emmanuel. She’ll meet your father and That means that at some point, her view on soulmates will change. Or at least expand. “Soulmates are not the only good spouses in the world,” you venture. “My dearest friend at home…she has been blessed with deep love, but not with her soulmate.”

“I don’t disparage them.” She assures you, looking almost horrified that you might think that of her comment. “I just-“ she sighs. “I have heard mother and father’s story so many times, I wish to see what my own soulmate would be like.”

“My only wish is for your happiness.” The clarification feels necessary, as you walk through the chilly October afternoon. “However you may achieve it.”

“The same to you.” She promises. “Perhaps life will be picture perfect. No one can tell the future, not even my father.”

******

There is something to be said for the fact that the ‘ball’ your grandparents are throwing tonight is not, apparently, full scale. This is a dinner dance, of sorts. It isn’t four hundred people streaming all over the property — it’s one hundred and twenty guests precisely and they are all arriving to celebrate Annie’s birthday. When you were a kid, your mother’s birthday was the movie of her choice at the local theater and family dinner out, so this is…a remarkably bigger celebration. The guests begin arriving at ten o’clock, streaming into the house in their fine gowns and shimmering jewelry, and you and Max are trying so hard to catch names. Wetmore. Reed. Slater. Ives. Vanderbilt. Astor. Goelet. Hunt. Roosevelt. It’s all a whirlwind. When Emmanuel is announced, your mother glows and goes to him immediately, and you can see the expressions of approval on your grandparents’ faces. “Is it weird that I like him a lot?” You murmur to Max on the other side of the room. Cornelius Vanderbilt had just been shaking his hand and Max looks so puffed up and proud about it. “That’s not…betraying my father’s memory? Right?”

“It’s not, Queenie.” Max reassures you softly. “He’s a good man. I fuckin’ hate knowing what happens.”

"Me too." At least Max understands that. He feels it right along with you. "It doesn't help that they really seem to adore each other."

“That might be why it took so long to find your father.” He offers, not sure enough about Annie to believe that she would become loose by the day’s standards after destroying her soulmate. “I don’t know if I could ever find someone if I was in her shoes.”

“Good thing for you that I’m not going anywhere.” Squeezing his arm gently with one gloved hand, you smile up at Max softly. “You’re stuck with me, Mr. Phillips.”

“Mrs. Phillips.” He grins back down at you, getting a kick out of calling you by your supposedly married name. “How are you enjoying the dinner dance so far? This has to be every girl who watches Downtown Abby’s wet dream, right?”

“It’s pretty close to the top of the fantasy list,” you admit, warm and pliant under even the tease of being called Mrs. “Although, when we get back from New York we’re invited to a ball at Beechwood. And after touring all the mansions with Allison I’m kind of dying to be able to say we were on the Astor’s guest list.”

“As you should.” He hums. “He wants to talk with me about business. I can’t imagine the insight this man has.”

“William Backhouse Astor wants to talk business with you?” It’s not that you doubt Max in the least, but your eyes go wide in surprise. “And Cornelius Vanderbilt was just shaking your hand a second ago.” The grin on his face is so pleased that it’s borderline shit-eating and you stifle a laugh. “You’re loving the Gilded Age, aren’t you?”

“These are the fucking Bill Gates and Steve Jobs of the times, babe.” He snorts. “I’m over the damn moon. That MBA is paying off in spades.”

“I’ll have to figure out how to get us here deliberately and maybe we can visit from time to time.” He would love that, and you could see your family sometimes. It would be remarkable if it ever worked.

“You would love that. Pop back and visit your mom when you need that connection.” He’s not unaware that you feel different about having your mother as a friend, but you are also cherishing every moment you have with her.

“Maybe we can visit some of the Phillips clan, too. Track them down wherever it is they’re hiding in history.” He lost as much as you did but hasn’t had the blessing of a long-lost grandparent, and you want nothing more than for Max to have every single happiness that you have. To be able to share that with him.

Regret flashes in his eyes and he blinks it away. His shoulders lifting casually as he brushes off the hurt that his family had caused him. “Might be interesting. See how many skeletons are in the closet.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” The situation with Derek might be behind you now, but your shoulders still drop and your expression changes completely when you see the hurt in his eyes. If you could time travel instantly and change it so you said nothing at all, you would do it immediately.

“You didn’t upset me.” Max promises, sliding his hand around your waist. “My own hurts are not your fault, you make everything worthwhile.” He drops a kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, too,” you hum softly. It’s dawned on you that Max doesn’t say the words outright very often, but he says it in different ways all the time.

“Of course you do.” He chuckles and nods towards the atrium where the buffet table is laid out. “Shall we go see how Mrs. Taylor’s table looks before I whisk my wife to the dance floor?”

“You’re enjoying calling me that, I think.” Or you hope he is, b because you enjoy hearing it.

“I get to try it on, see how it feels.” Max teases you shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He leads the two of you toward the Great Hall with all its overflowing tables and beautiful gas light. There are punch bowls full of highly alcoholic punch but also crisp, cold water and Max pours out two glasses of water so no one will attempt to be polite and offer punch. “And how are you liking it?”

“It’ll do.” He teases and sends you a smirk. “I don’t mind it all. Not at all. Think it should be permanent.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I want you to.” Admittedly, though, you hope to the gods that he means it. The idea that he might makes you feel like that little bird in your chest could take flight all over again.

“I’m not.” He tightens his hold on your waist and looks into your eyes seriously. “The only thing that I worry about is you dying and leaving me alone.” He confesses quietly. “But I want you to be mine. Not to posses you. You aren’t a toy, but to cherish you.”

"Haven't you heard?" Somehow his hold on you is even tighter with the corset laced neatly around your waist. It isn't too tight, but it hugs you so well that his hand feels like it's going to slip right through your many layers and burn right into your skin. "Apparently you're the person who can stop that from happening." Person. Vampire. There's no need to be specific especially with so many party guests around. The thought has been on your mind since yesterday and you've been trying to summon up the courage to talk to Max about it.

“You didn’t seem too fond of the idea when I told you.” He reminds you quietly. He hadn’t wanted to push, so when you seemed resistant to it, he had dropped the subject, although the thoughts of only having a short time with you had started to bother him.

"I've been thinking about it more lately." It's not the time for the full discussion and you both know that, but at least now the topic is open again. "Maybe we can talk it over the next time we have a little privacy?" There won't be much of it coming any time soon, not while you're traveling with your mother and Emmanuel starting tomorrow afternoon, but at least there is the comfort of your bed for any conversations that should remain just between the two of you.

“I would love to talk to you about it more.” If possible, Max seems to glow at the prospect of you prolonging your life and he pulls you close. He would kiss you, but it’s frowned upon in public, even with married couples.

When he bends his head slightly but stops halfway, you recognize the gesture immediately — he did it earlier today and received a word of advice from Yayo that public displays of affection are considered rude in this time. So you do something you’ve seen your abuela do several times since your arrival — and present your cheek to him with a sly smile. A kiss on the cheek, apparently, is fully acceptable. And if that’s all you can share right now without being subject to comment, then that’s fine. It’s more important to keep a low profile right now and not become the subject of gossip.

“Tease.” He pouts playfully, letting his lips linger against your skin. “You do know husbands can spank their wives in this time, right?” He only says this because you know he would never lay a hand on you in anger. He would rather Evan drive a stake through his heart again.

“You wouldn’t.” You’re absolutely positive of that, but since you can tell that Max is enjoying teasing you, you give him a wink instead. “Wives are also supposed to have separate bedrooms. Maybe I’ll just insist on that.”

“You wouldn’t.” His lower lip immediately comes out at the prospect and he shakes his head. “You enjoyed your temperature controlled Snuggie every night.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” But he is so very adorable when he pouts, and teasing is a tone that becomes you both. You are at your lightest and happiest when you are able to tease each other. “Besides, as newlyweds, this is technically our honeymoon.”

“Yes it is.” He hums, pulling you closer. “So perhaps I can take a walk with my wife in the gardens so I can kiss my bride?”

The warmth in your cheeks is essentially a fire now, with the way he keeps harping on the titles of bride and wife. “I think we could probably steal away for a little while after supper,” you hum, having to look away or else you’ll get lost in his eyes entirely. To the rest of the room you just look demure. “Yayo won’t mind.”

“Of course he won’t.” Your grandfather had taken him out to find you a proper ring, stating that it wasn’t acceptable to have you with a bare finger, even if you had eloped. The ring is extraordinary and there’s a sense pride knowing he can give you something to bring back to your proper time.

“I wish I could say we should go sit in the teahouse but it hasn’t been built yet.” It was something of a surprise to discover the miniature cottage does not exist yet, but when you had casually mentioned to your mother in your walk that it would be a darling place to take tea, she had jumped on the idea and promised to mention it to her mother.

“I still find it amusing that you are responsible for the tea house.” He snorts, having cackled when you had told him about the conversation. “I wonder how the fireplace is coming along?”

“Who knows? I doubt they’re looking for us, all things considered. Yayo and Mrs. Taylor will know better.” Still, you can’t help but smile at the irony of being responsible for the building of your own favourite retreat. “It seems I’m responsible for my mother’s favourite lamb dish, the teahouse, and my own name.”

“I wish I could have named myself.” Max snorts. “Would have picked something way better.”

“I like your name.” This time it’s your turn to pout, just to continue the teasing tone of the night. Although this teasing makes you lower your voice. There hasn’t been much physical intimacy between you, but the more nights you share a bed, the more you want to share that with him. “One syllable makes it easier to moan.”

“Oh Maximilian.” He creates a high falsetto and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s really great.”

“It’s Max, and that’s no more ridiculous than Dolly.” You point out with a soft snort.

“Doll, baby doll, good girl.” Max grins lasciviously at you and winks. “All of them will sound amazing when they are muffed against your neck or between your thighs.”

“How am I supposed to be proper with you talking like that?” At this point you know it just encourages him to be scolded, but you don’t mind. Not really. Not when you’ve quickly found yourself daydreaming about him in all sorts of very graphic ways.

“I guess the one good thing about all these layers is that no one would ever know that you are wet.” He hums quietly, his lips against your ear.

“Except you.” For this precise moment, you will not give even a second thought to the fact that your grandfather can certainly smell that too. He doesn’t know it’s you, and for all you know half the ladies here are hot and bothered. For you, all that matters right now is Max.

******

After the night is winding down, the morning sky is starting to peak over the edge of the horizon. Luckily, the drapes are heavy and can block out the sun so that the house can sleep the day away after dancing all night. Max loosens his tie as you sit down at your little table to pull the pins for the flowers and sparkling beads out of your hair.

“Suddenly I understand why all the ladies who dresses like this had maids,” you sigh. Exhausted but happy is a wonderful way to go to bed, and the pre-sunrise breakfast served to the remaining guests has warmed you through entirely.

“For tonight, you will just have to have your husband suffice.” Max has shucked his jacket, leaving his vest buttoned and his shirts first three buttons undone with his tie hanging around his neck as he walks towards you. Watching you in the mirror as he moves closer.

He really has no right to be so drop dead handsome. It would be unfair if he wasn’t your soulmate. As it is it’s an enormous distraction, as you can feel him walking toward you but only see his clothing in the silver-backed mirror in your vanity table. His frame is obvious in that reflection but not the face you’ve become so fond of, so you turn around on your stool to smile at him softly. “You were wonderful tonight, by the way. I overheard some ladies gossiping about you after we danced.”

“Yeah?” He smirks and tilts his head. “What did they say? Jealous of how we danced? That I enjoy whisking my bride around the ballroom?”

“There was a little speculation about our passionate elopement,” you tell him, an amused little grin blossoming on your face. “Apparently the way we dance is almost too sexy for the 1880s.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles and waggles his brows playfully. “If they only knew what we could have danced.”

“I think doing an Argentine Tango for these people might give them all heart attacks.” It’s…Something to think about, though. Imagining the deep, very obvious intimacy of that kind of dance with him.

“Very provocative.” Max murmurs, reaching out and cupping your face. “Especially because you would just have to wear that nightgown thing to dance it properly.”

"Chemise." His hand seems to cover half of your face with no effort at all, but you melt into the gesture just as if you were a flower that he was inspecting in the garden. "It's called a chemise, and those are see through as you well know."

“It’s my favorite goddamn thing you wear.” He snorts and bites his lip as he looks down at you. “Still, you couldn’t wear the bulky dresses. Maybe put some pants on you. Really give them a sight to see.”

"It's your favourite because it basically doesn't exist." He had been nearly speechless last night when he came into your shared room to find you sitting up in bed in the thin white slip, which despite being fairly ornate is definitely not sturdy in any way.

"i'm not saying you should walk around naked," Max huffs with a grin on his face. "But you should walk around naked." He had though he had done fairly well in not staring and his hands hadn't strayed during the the night. He deserves bonus points for that. Whoever thought skimpy was better, obvious never appriecated the sexiness of innocently sheer and covering.

“So should you.” Your last bits of jewelry go on the vanity table, stripping away the trinkets that have been weighing you down all night. It isn’t that you necessarily had been planning to take the next step forward with Max, but the opportunity has just sort of…fallen into your lap. And after the way you’ve been feeling all night, you actually don’t want to waste it. “We both could? Just…around this one little room?”

Max stares at you for a moment in shock, unsure of what you mean. "I guess you won't get offended if I'm sporting wood?" He asks finally, chuckling at himself for being so damn wary when he was a fucking man-whore in his previous life.

“That’s more of a compliment than an offense.” The tension in the room has risen a little, not from anything more than interest and wanting. Desire has been thick in the air between you all night. “Only if you want to, handsome. No pressure or anything.”

“Baby doll, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.” Max groans, unable to resist being a little bit of that former playboy while discussing intimacy with his soulmate. Even if he has displayed a lot more restraint and consideration than anyone who knew him before would ever expect, you’re gorgeous and he wants you.

The freedom you’ve felt in this time doesn’t necessarily boil down to just one factor, but since the biggest thing holding you back has been removed from your path to happiness you have felt lighter than air. Smiling up at Max from your place in front of the vanity, you tilt your head slightly to one side and take in the sight of your stunning soulmate. “Maybe…” You end up biting your lip again, nervousness and excitement washing over you. “You could show me?”

It’s instantaneous, his fangs springing out of his gums and his eyes taking on a lighter, yellower hue as his desires take hold. His face doesn’t shift, but his jaw clenches. “You have to be sure.” He nearly growls. “Once I touch you…”

The intensity of desire a vampire has for their mortal soulmate has been explained to you. This sort of reaction isn’t totally unexpected. But knowing that Max’s desire will never spill over into rage makes all the difference. “I’m sure,” you promise him, nodding once as you meet his bright eyes.

Breathing isn’t necessary, but Max exhales roughly. His entire body hardening at the thought of finally being able to touch you like he’s imagined as you dream in his arms. “What do you want me to not do, my little doll?” He asks. “Tell me now, please.”

He already knows that any kind of name calling is off the books, which your certain is one of the reasons that he so consistently uses sweet little pet names for you. What you haven’t discussed previously is specifics of your sexual history, which is why you are so, so grateful for this moment right here. “No restraints,” you tell him honestly, knowing that the old chestnut of using a tie to keep hands out of the way will have you spiraling instead of moaning. “And no degradation. Those are the hard lines that I can’t cross.”

“No restraints, no degradation.” He can quickly agree to that, having no want to make you feel embarrassed about what happens between you. “Biting?” He groans out, knowing he can be shot down. “Off limits?”

“No fangs until we get a chance to talk?” The topic hadn’t been touched since it was mentioned in passing early last night, and now is hardly the time to stop everything for a heart-to-heart.

“O-okay.” That part will be a little more difficult for him, especially at that sweet vein in your inner thigh, but he has enough restraint to abide by your wishes. “Regular teeth only.”

“We can talk about fangs for next time.” Your hand cradles his jaw softly and you give him an encouraging smile. There will absolutely be a next time. As far as you’re concerned, this morning is the beginning of something.

“Nothing you don’t want.” Max reassures. “But I will be showing off my oral skills in other ways.” He smirks. “I’m more than just a pretty set of fangs.”

“You keep saying that.” The teasing hum is back in your voice. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to prove it.”

“With the dress on, or off?” Max’s eyes gleam in challenge and it takes a conscious effort to make his fangs retract. “Lay down on the bed, my sweet Dolly.”

“In a bustle?” The skeptical look on your face says all it needs to, and you stand from your place in the bench. “I am not explaining to Mrs. Taylor that we crushed a silk evening gown because you couldn’t wait to eat me out. Help me get out of this thing first.”

In the blink of an eye, Max is beside you, spinning you around to start untying your gown. Eager to get to your skin underneath.

It had been fun to wear all night, right up until this moment. The clasps and hooks holding your bodice in place all have to go. Bodice. Skirt. Corset cover. Petticoats. Layer after layer lifts away until all that remains is the corset laced snuggly around your waist and the chemise beneath it. Even your stockings have already been rolled down your legs, tossed aside to be forgotten about on the rug until later.

Max grins and pushes you down onto the bed playfully, still fully dressed and winks at you. “Now, what was that about needing to prove something?” He teases.

“If you want to be teacher’s pet, I’ll make up a little grading system for you,” you tease, remembering what your Yayo had said about Max being kind of a suck up in college.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” He strips off the tie and tosses it down. “Let’s see how fast I can get graded.”

In just your chemise and corset, the effect of having Max lie you out in that giant four-poster bed is sort of like the most romantic pornography of all time. The stiff, starched collar from his shirt has been rejected along with all the other trinkets from his suit tonight, and while his jacket might have technically ended up on a chair it certainly wasn’t graceful. He looks like the charming hero of some Victorian novel that’s about to fully debauch himself and can’t wait to take you with him. And it’s better because it’s you he’s talking with you. “Just because you finish the test first doesn’t mean you get the best grade, Max,” you warn him in a teasing singsong.

“Baby doll, you haven’t seen what my tongue can do.” He promises, flicking it out of his mouth and its slightly longer than normal. Another positive to being a vampire.

One knee at a time, Max settles into the valley between your thighs and carefully pushes the hem of your chemise up your legs, doing his best to control the urge to just tear the fabric to get at your core as quickly as possible. When you swallow a breath and lay back against the pillows, you nod and caress his shoulder. “I’m sure,” you promise him.

“I know, baby girl.” He coos. “You just lay back and let me make you see the stars.” He knows that Derek didn’t treat you right, but he’s determined to erase that man’s touch on your mind, body and soul.

Without modern panties — and even without the ridiculous crotchless pantaloons worn in this time — as soon as your shift is pushed up and the cool night air brushes your skin, the difference in a vampiric lover is obvious. There’s no unpleasant memory of hot breath on your body or of searing hot touch making you squirm away. Max’s cool skin is a balm to wash away the bad memories, replacing them with promises of the future. The first touch of his lips and longer tongue to the apex of your sighs earns him a sharp inhale from you, but just as soon as it comes you sigh and relax into the bed a hair more. Even just a kiss over your clit is enough to tell you how different a lover Max will be from anything you’ve had before.

“Fuck you’re so sweet.” Max groans, pulling away from your clit to just look at swollen flesh. “I can feast on you all night.”

A breathless laugh comes from deep in your chest, and you run one hand through his short hair. “It’s morning, love. You’ve got all day, instead.”

“I’ll do it through the day and into the night.” Max snorts, smirking at the idea even if you can’t see it.

“I believe you would.” In fact, you don’t doubt it for a second. Especially not with the way he dives back in for another taste that has your head falling back on the pillow all over again.

Max is cocky when it comes to sex, but he’s got something to prove. He wants to show you how good it will be with him. Wanting to make sure you know that your soulmate will lick your pussy anytime you want.

It’s been years since the last time you had a head between your thighs, and even then you were made to feel like it was an enormous burden. Max descends on your clit like it is his favorite treat in the world and he has been starved of it. Ravenous for the taste of you and insatiable in his hunger.

Max feeds off your sounds, loving the soft, restrained moans that you are trying to keep quiet. Wanting to make it to where you forget anyone else is in the house, he squeezes your thighs and pushes his tongue deep inside you.

Your moans pitch up immediately, a sharp gasp bursting out of you like an explosion and your fingers in his hair tightening instinctively. This has been one of your favorite intimacies, oh so long ago, and even though you’ve told yourself that it wasn’t worth missing, you have. The trust involved in giving someone else complete access to your soul is nothing to turn up your nose at, after all.

Max moans into your flesh, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal as he tastes it on his tongue. You are fresh off your cycle and he twitches in his pants at the thought of tongue fucking you to soothe your cramps.

It isn't restraining, the way Max has his forearms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open for that mutual enjoyment as he dives deeper and deeper into your cunt. It's cradling you. Treasuring you. And it's so damn good. The fingers of your free hand tangle in the sheets on your other side but you're not sure you won't need them to stifle your own moans. The amount of pressure he's putting on your most sensitive areas is perfect and every flick of his tongue is another sharp jolt of pleasure that has your chest heaving in the corset still tied around your torso.

He can’t see your face but he can feel the beating of your heart through your body. Smell the sweet blood swimming in your veins and it makes him ravenous. Intent on making sure you scream his name when you cum.

Every pass of his tongue over your core, every probe and every lick ticks your heartbeat up that much faster until you feel like your head is swimming and you know your thighs are shaking. The very direct way he's chosen to tongue fuck you as if his afterlife depends on it almost makes you feel like you're laying on a choppy sea and he's the only thing keeping you from sinking.

Large hands start to squeeze your thighs. Stroking from your knee down to your hips. Encouraging you to give in to him as his tongue works harder and harder, the ability to not breathe working in his favor as he doesn’t let up to gasp for air.

It’s almost overwhelming because he never has to let up. He dives in over and over again, lapping up every bit of dripping wetness that you have for him and drinking it down like a man starved but he never has to pause or even shift in his attention. It has you building up and up and up on a mountain that feel like the peak of pleasure is impossibly high but deliriously tantalizing to reach. The moment that sends you into hazy bliss though, isn’t the typical oncoming orgasm. It’s when Max wraps his lips around your swollen clit and sucks — sharp and with a groan that reverberates through your whole body. Your back lifts off the mattress and you barely manage to stifle half the keening sound you make, going boneless and letting your legs open as wide as they will go. Just begging him to do it again.

Max groans, growling slightly and his entire soul seems to brighten as you come apart for him. Body vibrating as he absorbs your pleasure as if it were his own, maybe it is. Maybe this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate. Consuming him completely as your thighs shake around his head.

It comes on all at once, mere minutes after he began, and if Max was aiming to bowl you over with sheer skill then he should take the near wail of his name as you start to cum as a signal that he has done extremely well. It washes over you all at once, bending your back and making your legs squeeze his head tight, which only earns you another groan.

The only thing missing is the sight of your face as you cum. Max closes his eyes and imagines it, his face starting to shift in his excitement. Bones knitting and becoming heavier, sharper. His growl deepening although he makes sure to keep his fangs retracted. Not wanting to pierce your delicate flesh. Perhaps one day you would let him bite your lip and lick the blood from your cunt.

Unexpected and rumbling, the depth of the growl between your legs makes your eyes shoot open. Still darkened with lust, when you look down at Max to find him transformed between your thighs, something even more unexpected makes your cunt ache at the sight of someone so powerful unraveled and needy for you. "Do it again, love." You can hear the ferocity in your own voice, the demand and the need. Desire and a type of desperation that you've never felt before. The need for more. "Again. Just like that."

Max’s yellow eyes flicker, darken even more to a burnt amber as he tightens his grip on your thighs. Not enough to hurt you, not even at his most powerful would he ever hurt you. His snarl of obedience bounces off the walls of the room and his eager tongue buries itself back in your cunt to carry out your surprisingly arousing order.

______

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[mvmnbnv]

bro I’m so sick of ppl shitting on vi. particularly jinx stans. they act like vi isn’t allowed to have trauma (or anyone else tbh) but vi has had her whole life ripped away from her. she spent most of her youth, watching out for her siblings then spent her whole time in prison focused on her sister. then spends days searching for jinx as soon as she gets out of prison. never once putting herself first, doing anything for herself, etc.

she was ready to drop her life again to run away with jinx. this doesn’t even consider all the physical and emotional violence she has experienced through out her life. i see so many jinx stans continue to expect vi to put jinx first and have her be the singular priority. it’s like they want vi to remain a doormat and have her life continually revolve around her sister/they want that co-dependency to continue - pretty much so it benefits jinx only. they don’t give a fuck about vi

as for ppl expecting vi to let Cait continue to berate vi for caring about her sister (i luckily haven’t seen any of this bs), have a serious misunderstanding of caits character too. i expect vi to be more subdued about it when Caitlyn is actively grieving, vi is empathetic and knows grieving can bring out the worst in people/she knows that’s not who cait truly is. idk how those ppl can see Cait doing that continually, even after her initial anger/resentment, bcuz thats not how her character’s personality is written. and even if they went with a massive change to caits character, their relationship would be done.

that was a lot. sry. just done with ppl minimizing vi’s trauma and making her only prop for other characters (mainly for jinx). i can’t wait for her pit fighting time - to see her focus on herself for once . i know it’s going to be rough and sad but hopefully transformative for her character

it wasnt that they'd seen that happen or anything, but they WANT it to happen...and its so sick. like they dream of the day they hopefully get to see cait say she wished she'd left vi to rot in prison or something...like to even wish for that is wild, and somehow worse. and honestly even if cait did hurt her, im sorry but i dont really care for her being understanding about it. mostly because it wouldnt even be reciprocated in that case and people are never expected to be understanding with her. not jinx, not caitlyn, not anyone. thats who she is tho so yknow, whatever. she probably will. she just deserves to be able to be bitter about this shit. im afraid of what theyll do with her and cait because of the way they treated her relationship with jinx. just crying, whining and ready to throw her life away for a shitty co-dependent relationship...that makes me nervous for where theyll go and they've already seemingly made choices that lead to that type of relationship...which is worse with a power imbalance.

like fuck it, i want vi to be selfish at some point...like "fuck you, you hurt me...make it up to me. its not my job to do all the heavy lifting. if you love me prove it. make me understand." not whatever shit they did with her and jinx. and the way people can never hold jinx accountable for her actions while all the while getting upset with vi for reacting to them is enraging ong

[cmkren]

“He Loved Me, He Loved Me Not.”

For a man such as himself, he couldn’t express the emotions he felt, even if he wanted to. It was a matter of being unable, not knowing how than not wanting to. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. Chishiya could only hope that the one he loved wouldn’t see him any less for it— because it’d only sting more considering that he, for once, was trying his best to be (somewhat) emotionally available.

But maybe he had realized that all just a little too late.

a/n; exploring his character a little! A little bit of one-sided pining, mentions of past relations between Chishiya and reader, messy plot, messy in general ‘cause I haven’t written like this in three years— g/n! reader (hopefully), mentions of unhealthy behaviour, the neglectful kind + pre-borderlands relationship but chishiya reflecting during borderlands when he sees you again during beach arc

What did you expect, getting into a relationship with him? What had drawn you in, pulled you in so close? Close enough that he could plunge a knife into your heart so deep he could tug it right out from the other side? What did you expect?

What did you expect.

Before the whole borderlands shit show, Chishiya had you in his arms every day. Every other day. Maybe weekly. He thought he had expressed his affections rather often, but according to the other party they barely saw him. There had been a conversation between the two of you about this, a conversation where he willingly sat and listened. Nodding his head, looking like he caught your words as soon as they left your mouth.

Maybe that was one of the reasons. How he seemed so good at listening, as if he was hooked on to every word you said, actively listening every time you spoke. In a sense he did. At the beginning, that was.

Everyone knows how things are at the beginnings of a relationship. Where couples are tied to the hip, all lovey-dovey and happy looking. As if they solved all their problems and were sure there would be none to come their way. You and Chishiya were no different, but of course he showed this newfound affection he held in his own unique way.

Never the biggest fan of pda, so he kept the touching behind closed doors. Even then, his biggest way to show affection was just sitting down and spending time with you. Listening to how your day was, and you prying out the same from him as he reluctantly shared.

That was just how your relationship was— and he liked it that way.

Until that ‘honeymoon phase’ started to slowly fade. Like it always does. He started spending less time with you, barely saying anything to you unless he needed something.

It was strange, how things switched up so quickly with him. He even went radio silent a couple of times, not really responding to texts or calls. Most he would give at times to a message is a one or two word answer. No matter how good a partner someone could be— anyone would start getting anxious about what was going on.

The final straw came when he didn’t say anything at all for a whole month. Maybe even reaching two months.

It was crazy. How could you be completely detached for a whole month like that? You never even caught a glimpse of him, got a single text or call. He must’ve been deliberately ignoring you.

Unfortunately, he had been.

He had no idea what came over him, but he just couldn’t talk to you. The workload at the hospital was only an excuse he could barely tell himself as for his own behaviour. As if he was justifying it.

But after a while, a string of texts finally got his attention. It’s all pretty blurry to him, but he just remembered dropping whatever it was he was doing to go over to your place. Unfortunately for him, a stroke of bad luck decided to follow him as he walked across Shibuya Crossing.

It was the day he found himself in this sort of dystopian version of Tokyo.

Maybe that’s why he found himself staring at you from a distance— there wasn’t really… actual closure. At least for him. With the raging party by the pool, you seemed to be having some fun with new friends you made during your time here.

Chishiya was known to be a confident guy, a bit of a prick but in a way he had a right to be. He was intelligent. But he could never bring himself to go up to you again. Not after how he left things on such a sour note.

He liked to think it was both his and their fault. Their fault for falling in love with a man like him, and his fault for loving you just as much. Maybe even a little more.

Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously distanced himself at one point. Did he think that was the right move? To move as far away and close himself as much as possible to protect them from an asshole like him? Someone who couldn’t even share how his day at work had went?

At the end, it didn’t matter why or why not he did certain things.

The fact of the matter was, he hurt you either way. Maybe this was how he loved. By pushing them as far as possible, holding himself accountable. And maybe this was how he balanced his life. From the shitty things he did every day, maybe he deserved it. Deserved never being able to make love last.

“Chishiya— Chishiya!”

The taller woman beside him had snapped her fingers right against his ear, making him turn his head just the slightest. Kuina stared back at him, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards just a little. A slightly incredulous smile on her face, “what’s with that expression? You look like you just got dumped.”

He knew she was exaggerating so he let out an amused scoff. Slowly, his eyes trailed back towards the crowd, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

Ah, he just remembered. Why he had been making his way to your place that day. The message that got him scrambling to his feet, finally waking up to reality.

It’d been a break up text.

It took that, something that finally spelled it out to him that his relationship was in jeopardy, to try to fix it. Remedy how much he had blatantly ignored his partner for the past month or so, absolutely refusing to even send a single message.

If it hadn’t been obvious yet— he still loved you. After 90 days of this place, he still loved you. You probably still loved him too, he presumed. That wasn’t just his narcissism speaking, there was no way they’d get over him so quick. No way.

No way.

[babiebom]

would you maybe write something with some of the SDV bachelors + farmer/reader who has vaginismus? thanks!!

A/N: fun fact I had to Google what this was. It’s actually VERY interesting and kinda sad. Like I think if sex isn’t important to you it would be easier to live with this (idk if it can be….fixed or made better or not) but like if you’re a person that likes and wants sex I think this could be terrible. Obligatory I have no experience with this(I am a virgin) so take everything in the view of entertainment. Also this is written in headcanon format!!

Tw: nsfw content, cursing, female bodied reader,

Bc: I have no idea at least 5 to 10 for each

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

I think that in the moment he finds out like the rest of the headcanons it would be in the heat of the moment while trying to have sex even if you’ve known of not doesn’t matter in this situation because I don’t think you’d engage if you didn’t want to

That he would just freeze and stare. I think his way of thinking is like he has to take a second to let everything sink in

But I also think this would give you immense anxiety

Like wow he’s literally just staring and not moving he must be upset

But right after he finishes processing he proceeds like nothing happened.

Like not going on with the sex, unless you want to and only doing sex that doesn’t require penetration

But right after he’s like do you wanna talk about this? Have you thought of treating it? Do you want me to help or do anything? Like a good loving boyfriend

Is worried but more for you and less about y’all’s sex life

Like there’s plenty of ways to have sex without him putting his penis into your vagina and so he doesn’t care

Just wants you to be happy

Probably doesn’t really understand until he looks it up

Hesitates on asking Harvey and would probably prefer to go outside to one of the bigger cities for an obgyn.

Sam

More mature about it than I think people realize he would be

I think he does enjoy sex so would ask if there’s anything you both could do about it after a couple of moments when everything has calmed down

Does probably panic and try to say that sex isn’t all that’s on his mind and that it’s not more important than you

But like wonders how everything will work with this happening

Like you get horny he gets horny what’s supposed to happen then?

Would probably look it up rather than going to Harvey because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or have anyone know that you don’t want to know.

Because of you haven’t talked about it with Harvey yet then that means you don’t want nor do you need him to know

But he also gets worried when it comes to your period because obviously it makes tampons hard to insert and if you don’t like pads and go through the pain of still trying to use tampons he doesn’t like that you’re in pain at all

Actively helps you but also willing to give you space to work on it yourself if you don’t want his help

Is actually very chill about it after you both get over the initial shock and embarrassment.

Shane

I think out of all the bachelors that Shane wouldn’t change anything about it unless you actively needed and wanted to

Like I don’t think sex is that far up his needs list

Especially since he needs to better his own mental health to be a good boyfriend

So unless you want him to help you he won’t complain or be upset at you about it

And is fine with just hand and mouth stuff

Does actively help though if you want him to

Like reminds you to do your exercises every day

Is there when you need a shoulder to cry on

Actually very comforting because he knows just how connected physical and mental health are from first hand experience

Won’t even make a big deal out of it either

Is just like oh okay, guess that won’t work right now oh well.

Elliott

I think he would’ve probably found out the first time you two are engaging in anything sexual.

Is super surprised and wants to help but I don’t think he would know how

Tries to make it seem as if he isn’t doing this for sexual gratification

Like he might be but it’s not his own gratification that he’s after.

If you don’t want to treat it for any reason he won’t make you, is fine with hand and mouth stuff

But he wants you to feel pleasure and not pain, that’s what’s most important to him

Is kinda dramatic about it ngl

Like actually takes you out of your head from how he acts and it somehow calms you down

Might talk to Harvey with your permission to see what the two of you can do.

Harvey

He’s a doctor so best believe he is the best equipped to handle this sort of thing

Is the most likely to push for helping you manage and treat it

Not because he’s that big on sex and that he wants to have penetrative sex with you that much

But because he knows that it’s painful and wants you to be able to live as pain free as possible

Like from what I’ve read about in in the 30 minutes I’ve spent looking it up, it can make things like putting a tampon in painful and difficult

And the pain can be worsened by uti’s, bladder infections, yeast infections, and more things so like it’s super shitty

And I think he would want to make it go away as much as he can and would help you try as many things as you want if you want to try.

Wouldn’t push too much though because of you don’t want it he won’t force you!!

But does look at it through a medical lens rather than a romantic relationship one.

Alex

Understands the least out of the bachelors but believe me dude is not dumb at all

Would probably panic at you being in pain especially if it’s the first time the two of you are going that far

Does not want to hurt you at all, so doing this is actually a nightmare for him

Would probably try the least to treat it, simply because I don’t think he thinks that you can

Would be extra gentle around you after that.

Like I think I’ve said previously guy is lowkey misogynistic but not in a negative way is just like women should be treated with care not roughness

So he would probably pamper you without thinking that he can treat it so you can have penetrative sex like oh jeez she’s in pain I have to take care of her

Would also ask Harvey or at least look it up if you say you want to find ways to treat it.