#the fact that these two haven't kissed yet is beyond me

[divineandmajesticinone]

JACK & JOKER: U STEAL MY HEART! (2024) I 1.06

"Promise you won't disappear until I achieve my dream."

[hippiegoth97]

Random Spencer Reid Thought #2

A/N: Fucking FINALLY got something written for once. Enjoy some crumbs, lovely readers <3

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, virgin!Spencer Reid, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, fingering, groping, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dirty talk, rough sex, fluff

Some tags: @rafeyscurtainbangs @loserboysandlithium @hotwritergf @bloodibambiidoll

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Spence?" You ask Reid as you're straddling his thighs, the two of you naked in his bed as you have been so many times before. Although, it's different this time, because he's just asked you to take his virginity from him.

"Yes. I'm ready." He replies softly, sitting up against the headboard, his hands resting at your waist. He's brought you here on many occasions, though up until recently the most you'd do is make out until your lips were sore.

He'd met you at a book shop a few months ago, reaching for the same first edition of some dusty old classic. Sherlock Holmes, maybe, or perhaps even Moby Dick. He doesn't quite remember (and his unmatched memory captures everything), as he was far too focused on the gorgeous, soft hand that brushed against his own in grabbing for the book. A shared laugh soon followed, light and airy, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your beauty enraptured him instantly, and he nearly tripped over himself to give you his number and await your call to plan a date of some sort. It was so unlike him to do so, it made him seriously question his sanity for an hour or two. But after a conversation with you that lasted hours into the night when he returned home that evening, he was pleased to find he'd made a very wise decision.

Fast forward to the last month or so, and things have rapidly progressed from hand-holding and passionate kisses to touching various naked areas with your hands and mouths. You've been patient, guiding Spencer along each stepping stone towards intercourse, encouraging him, exploring him in every way imaginable. Despite your insistence (and multiple comments he receives from certain coworkers of his), he's never exactly found himself to be attractive. Not really.

He's spent most of his life a full step ahead of everyone else in terms of education and career, leaving him considerably younger than most of his peers. That fact alone has made it rather difficult to experience a lot of 'firsts' in regards to intimacy. He's been kissed before you came along, maybe even felt up a little bit, but nothing beyond that. In all honesty, a part of him is glad to have been spared the awkward adolescent groping and vulgar attempts at playing grown-up, because now he's been able to share all of these amatory encounters with you.

"I want this. I want you." Spencer reiterates as you haven't made any next moves yet.

"I want you too, baby. I just have one more question." You say softly, brushing a wispy hair out of his face before cupping his cheek.

"And what's that?" Reid asks, unable to help smiling as you gaze at him adoringly.

"Do you want me to put a condom on you, or are you okay without one?" You ask, the words sounding a bit more clinical than you'd like. But it's a fair question.

"I-I dunno. Should I?" His brow furrows, unsure how to go about this. He's aware you're on the pill, though that statistically isn't 100% effective. And he may be a virgin, but he's aware of the mess sex can make, and it might spare a bit of cleanup afterwards. He's getting stuck on it now, pondering inside his head as you play with the foil wrapper between your fingers.

You giggle at his momentary trance, shaking your head. "It's only if you want to, Spence. It's not exactly a life-altering decision."

"That's not true. You could still end up pregnant." Spencer retorts, about to rattle off statistics at you about just how many children were born to parents who assumed oral contraceptives were enough. You put a finger over his mouth to stop him, and he sighs when he realizes how intense he's getting about this. He gently moves your hand away, speaking again. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly."

"No, you're not. It's sweet that you're so concerned." You reassure him, giving him a soft kiss. He hums into you, allowing your tongue to slip into his mouth for a moment. You pull away shortly after, taking his breath with you. With your lips still brushing against his, you meet his dizzied gaze. "I only ask, because I want your first time to be extra special. And it'll feel so much better if you fuck me without a condom on." You say seductively, making his pupils dilate with lust.

"Actually, studies show that there's little to no difference in sensat-" Reid's gargantuan mind starts up again, leaving you no choice but to cut him off by taking his cock in your grasp. "-fuck." He mutters, losing his train of thought entirely, his eyes flicking down to look at the scene between his legs. His stiff, ample length throbs in your hand, pearly beads of precum dripping down the side as you lazily stroke him.

"Baby, look at me..." You purr, drawing his gaze to you. "I'm gonna ask you again. All I need is a 'yes; or 'no', okay?" You wait for him to give an understanding nod. He does, as well as letting out one of the filthiest little moans you've ever heard. "Do you want to wear a condom?" You ask, letting his dick fall from your hand for a moment. He whines at the loss, the sound sending a flare of arousal between your legs.

"No. I want to feel you. All of you. Please." Spencer begs, and you could just about melt at the pitchy whimper in his voice. You've noticed he grows rather needy in bed, and it doesn't take much to rile him up. The way he takes everything you give him like a precious gift is so goddamn intoxicating.

"So do I, Spence." You say with a smile, one he mirrors. "Is this position okay? We can do it any way you want."

"This is fine, makes me feel close to you." Reid says sweetly, squeezing your hips a little.

"You wanna warm me up a little bit first?" You ask, longing to feel his touch.

"Of course." He nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Spencer always starts with a kiss, no matter what it is you end up doing. It's really romantic, and makes your knees weak every time. You let him lead, allowing his tongue to dominate yours in a fervent dance. His hand leaves your waist, trailing along your supple skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His long fingers brush past your inner thighs, reaching their intended destination without him having to look. He rubs slow circles on your clit, making you moan against his mouth. It doesn't take long for him to venture further, slipping two fingers inside your drenched cunt.

"Fuck, Spence." You moan aloud, the way his fingertips can reach your g-spot so quickly and easily takes you by surprise every time. You grab hold of his cock again, mainly holding it to keep him ready. Although, the sounds you're making and how wet you are seem to be doing that job just fine. The air of the room heats up, growing thinner as the seconds pass. Unabashed moans escape the two of you as you work each other up, building towards the one thing you've both desired for so long. "I'm ready when you are." You say breathlessly, eager to finally feel Spencer inside of you.

"O-Okay." He stutters, nodding his head enthusiastically. He pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his lips. He sucks them clean, moaning at the taste of you. "Mm."

"Dirty boy." You tease, making a deep blush bloom wildly across his cheeks. You start to stroke him again, very slowly. You get up on your knees to position yourself over him.

He watches your every move, unable to say a word. It's finally happening. He's going to have sex. With you. Reid feels like a silly teenager with all these thoughts running through his head, but they all fall away the second you bring the tip of his cock to glide through your folds. You share a moan at the sensation, gazing at one another with parted mouths. Hearts pounding in anticipation, breath stolen from your lungs, arousal leaking from you both and mixing together in the indescribable friction. Spencer could cum just like this if he isn't careful.

"Ready?" You ask one final time, just to be absolutely sure that he wants this.

"Yes." Reid nods, trying to keep himself from squirming. You feel so good, and he's not even inside you yet. He's certain he won't last long, but you've already told him a hundred times that it won't be a problem.

You don't waste anymore time, holding his cock at your entrance and gradually sinking down onto him. "Fuck, Spence. You're so big." You moan as he splits you open. He's a bit larger than you've had before, and it's been quite some time since you've done this, so every inch is deliciously stuffing you full.

Reid, on the other hand, has gone completely mute. His mind has stopped working, and all he can do is grip onto your hips with all the strength he has without hurting you. You're absolute heaven inside, if he believed in such a thing. So hot, and slick, and snug, squeezing around his dick perfectly. He finally understands what all the fuss is about. He could just about cry from happiness in this moment. Once you're fully seated on him, your walls constrict out of reflex, which appears to get Spencer's sex-addled brain working again. "Oh, my...fuck- I, um, wow..." He babbles, unsure what to do with himself. His hands fidget at your sides aimlessly, and his expression twists and bends in all manner of ways as he attempts to get a grip on one singular thought.

"Shh, look at me, Spencer." You coo to him, leading his chin with your finger. He meets your eyes, though his own desperately want to roll back into his fucking skull. "That's it, baby. Just breathe, alright? Nice and slow, 'kay?" You guide him through the initial shock, nodding together slowly as he takes deep breaths. "There you go. I'm gonna start moving now, okay? Don't worry if you cum early, and just tell me if you need me to stop." You say softly, keeping things light and low-pressure. The last thing you need is him worrying about his performance.

"Okay." He breathes, chest shuddering as you start to ride him. You lift yourself up, almost letting him fall out altogether, and come back down at the same pace. You do this a few more times, gradually picking up a bit of speed.

"That feel good, baby?" You ask him, rolling your hips as you set a steady rhythm.

"Yeah, so fucking good." Spencer huffs, feeling close already. But he puts that out of his mind, focusing instead on enjoying this with you. "Do you feel good?" He asks, needing more than your vulgar moans as confirmation.

"So good, Spence. You fill me up so well, I'm so fucking wet for you." You admit these lewd thoughts to him, no stranger to being vocal during intimacy with him. Reid enjoys it immensely, adding words to the actions just makes everything astoundingly better. "Tell me how it feels to fuck me, Spencer." You say through a moan, riding him a little bit faster now.

Spencer groans at your increased speed, doing his best to hold back his orgasm. "I-It's exactly what I'd always hoped it would be." He starts. "I can hardly find the words to describe how much I'm enjoying this right now. You've blown my mind to pieces with this perfect fucking pussy." His grip on your waist grows rougher, taking you by surprise. He's following his instincts, leading you with his hands as you bounce on his cock. His assistance punctuates every landing you make, your noises growing louder as pleasure builds inside you. "I can feel you making a mess all over me, fucking soaked." He says, marveling at the drenched patch on his crotch. Your arousal glistens in the light as it's caught on his coarse hair and pale skin. "It drives me crazy to know you're loving this just as much as I am."

"I am, baby. You're so deep, hitting all the right places inside me." You say, speeding up a bit more. Spencer's hands migrate to your ass, squeezing your flesh roughly as he continues to keep up with you. You're surprised he's lasted this long, oddly proud of him for doing so.

"Fuck, you're incredible." Spencer groans, getting dangerously close to the edge again. He'd tell you to slow down, but everything feels too good to stop. Instead, he tries to drag you down with him, starting with diving face first into your tits. His mouth nips and sucks at your flesh wildly, struggling to land where he wants with your ceaseless bouncing. The noises he makes are borderline animalistic, groaning and grunting against your chest.

"Jesus, Spence!" You can't help letting out a breathless laugh at his urgency, picking up on the fact that his end is closer than your own. "You wanna try to help me out?" You offer, eager to feel him take some of the control. He doesn't say anything, just nods and makes an unintelligible sound at you. He thrusts his hips up, following what his primal urges are telling him to do. It appears to be working, given the shocked gasp that leaves your lungs at his effort. He keeps doing it, his mind turning to mush more and more as he fucks into your cunt to meet you halfway. "Oh my god! Yeah, keep doing that." You pant the words out, clinging to him by the shoulders.

Reid grins against your flesh, still biting and suckling while he pounds into you over and over. He's doing it, he's really doing it. He's keeping control of himself, he's going to make it. "Feel so fuckin' good, gonna make you cum, gonna make you scream, I promise...promise, promise..." Spencer murmurs to you, vowing to not give up, even though his balls are screaming for release right now. He has to get you there, if it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Such a perfect pussy, so good for me, so, so wet, fuck-" He groans when your walls constrict around him a bit, almost making him blow his load entirely.

"Don't stop, baby, you can do it, fuck me, make me cum, please, Spence..." You plead as your orgasm builds near the point of toppling over. His filthy mouth and feral actions have set you on fire from the inside out. You knew sleeping with Spencer would be special, and intense. But this is an entirely new level. His craving of you has blocked out all else, leaving him only with the mission to chase release. His, and your own.

"Oh, god, lay down, lay down, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum..." Spencer babbles, attempting to push you over onto your back. You follow his lead, his cock still sheathed inside you as you let him lead you where he wants. As soon as your body hits the mattress, he proceeds to ram himself into you as hard and as fast as he can.

"Fuck! Spencer!" You cry out as he hits an entirely new angle inside you, your ass resting over his knees as he thrusts forward. His hands grip your hips so hard, sure to leave dark bruises once he's through with you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna fill you up, gonna cum deep inside this pussy..." Reid grunts, sweat slicking him down, stomach clenching as he's about lose it.

"Keep going, baby. Don't stop, I'm almost there. Cum for me." You whine as his cock slams into you again and again.

"Fuck!" He nearly shouts when he finally feels it, his balls tightening, bliss washing over him, his hips stuttering as he fills you with thick ropes of white.

All you can do is bear witness as Spencer cums, harder than he ever has in his life. His brows knit together, mouth falling open as he moans so fucking loud. He keeps slamming his cock into you, hoping to pull you down alongside him. Feeling his load spill inside of you, as well as his desperate thrusts sends you tumbling over the edge. "Oh, god! Spencer!" You cry as your orgasm rips through you mercilessly. Your pussy clenches down on Reid's spent length, making him gasp as he keeps thrusting to get you off. You thighs shake violently, stars blurring your vision, hands clawing at the sheets beneath you. It's the most beautiful thing Spencer has ever seen.

You both slowly come down from your high, soaked in sweat and totally spent. Spencer carefully pulls out of you, though you still wince a little. "You okay?" He asks, noting your discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit worn out." You laugh lightly, crawling over to the right end of the bed to lie down. Spencer joins you, pulling the covers over you both and taking you into his arms.

"Sorry about that, I don't know what came over me." He says, a little embarrassed for losing control the way he did.

"It's okay, baby. More than okay, actually." You reassure him once again, stroking his damp face with your thumb. "I'm surprised you had it in you." You chuckle, and he does, too.

"So am I. I guess you...bring it out in me." He explains, and you nod in understanding.

"And I take that as a compliment." You say with a sleepy smile. "Did you have enjoy yourself?" You ask.

"Very much. Even more than I thought I would." Spencer says earnestly, making your heart skip a beat.

"Me too, Spence. And I'm so happy you chose me to enjoy this with." You reply, leaning in to give him a tender kiss. This night has been the best one of your lives (so far), and you look forward to sharing many more moments just like this one in the future. Together.

[cobaltperun]

Jerks With Hearts of Gold - Work For It

Request: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: The first kiss should not be this difficult to get, yet nothing is ever easy for Tara Carpenter.

Masterlist / Side story of this request

Word count: 2.7k

She could no longer deny it, she could no longer fight it, and she hated every single thing about it. Except she didn't actually hate it, she absolutely loved it, only she would never admit it, especially to anyone other than herself.

Tara Carpenter was in love with a jerk.

How could this have happened? Sure, she wanted to live her life, set aside everything that's happened while being comfortably cautious about which people she let in, but she did not expect to let the biggest jerk of them all in. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she took it not just a step, but a fucking marathon further by falling in love with you. So, there Tara was, lying on her bed facing the ceiling and glaring at it as if she had your face painted right on it. She might as well have it painted there, because that's all she could see when she closed her eyes. Your smiling face, that stupid grin when you prove her wrong, or when you get the upper hand in a debate, or when you just annoy the living hell out of her.

“Jerk,” she muttered as she looked through window that was somehow facing the direction you were in. Of course, you were far away, too far for her to even see your neighborhood from her window, let alone your apartment, but just the fact that she knew she would be looking in the direction of your apartment if she looked outside her window infuriated her. Why did you have to be so good to her? You stopped smoking just for her, and that really was the true start of her downfall. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? Ever since she opened up about the attacks she survived you've been crazy attentive to everything she was feeling, noticing even the minute details about her mood shifts.

Somehow, despite only knowing you for a relatively short period of time, Tara was absolutely certain you wouldn’t turn out to be a Ghostface. Maybe worse than even that was how sure Tara was that if she confessed and you returned her feelings that the two of you would just stay together. That you would never break her trust or her heart.

And that just made her afraid that one day she would do that to you. Because there was that feeling deep inside of her, that thought that maybe she did ruin everything she touched, and that she just wouldn’t know how to let you love her.

Yet at the same time, Tara knew she wanted that kind of love, that almost unconditional love, more than she wanted anything in the world. So, Tara picked up her phone and sent you a message.

~X~

You were bored beyond what you imagined was humanly possible. You were so bored you might actually consider doing schoolwork that was still far from the deadline. That's how bored you were. You weren't in the mood for a movie or some new TV show or a new book or anything that would reasonably take more than a few hours to finish, but you also weren't in the mood to go out and have fun, or go to a stupid party if Tara wasn’t there, or anything of that nature.

Luckily, just as you were about to lament on your ruined night, your phone rang and you jumped to your feet cheering loudly that there was even a smidge of distraction to be had tonight.

You placed your palms together in front of your face praying to whatever higher being that might exist. “Please be Tara, please be Tara, please let me annoy her tonight!” because you would not be that desperate to actually send the message first. Not after sending the first message four times in a row.

You plucked your phone off your charger and the screen lit up and you pumped your fist at your side. “Yes!” you exclaimed. It was Tara. “Oh, I love this girl!” your eyes widened when you said that.

Well, you did love her, and you knew that, and you knew how you loved her, how much, and how intensely. But you haven't really said it out loud and with that sudden realization the urge to annoy her faded away and you just opened the message she just sent you.

Tara: Let's meet up tomorrow

Please I'm bored

Well, that was direct and right to the point, just the way Tara always was, and you grinned like a fool because you would get to see her tomorrow instead of waiting for the next week's classes. So, you replied with a simple ‘Of course! Usual time usual place?’

It took Tara less than a minute to reply, and you've never thought a simple ‘yes’ would make you this happy.

You walked back to the bed and just fell on top of it, still grinning. You loved this girl. You loved her so damn much and she didn't even know it and maybe, just maybe you could confess tomorrow. Just see how it goes. At least you won't be painfully stuck in friendzone and things would be clear, you would know if you should give up on these feelings or if you would just have to wait for some time until she got more comfortable. You understood perfectly well just how difficult opening up would be for Tara, and all you really wanted was to know if there was even the slightest chance that she might one day reciprocate your feelings.

~X~

She must have done something right lately because all of a sudden and without even considering all of those things Tara ended up being really lucky. First of all, she didn't have classes today, Sam was working, and all of her friends had classes, so no one was free to hang out with her. Not even Chad and he was the most relaxed about classes out of all of them. At least before the exams, once the exams were going then he was the one worrying the most.

That would probably be something you and Chad could bond over. You had the same annoying nonchalant approach before the exams only to completely flip it once exams actually started. She still smiled, because somehow, despite everything, she found that endearing.

The usual spot was your code of sorts, for a small secluded spot in the park that Tara found when she first came to New York, back when she felt the need to escape from everything and pretend she was just a normal teenager. And you came to appreciate the spot as well, so instead of hanging out in a café bar or some other place, one of you would get the drinks and the other some snacks and you just go and sit at the park. And it worked well, because not only was it a nice place where she could breathe easier, but it had designated spots for picnic, so that was just another plus in its own way.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she walked through the park toward the place where you would meet up. The basket filled with your favorite food felt a lot heavier than it really was. You weren't really a flowers kind of girl, or rather Tara wasn't, she just felt that would be a bit too on the nose and she wants to be a bit subtle about everything. Although… There was nothing subtle about being twenty minutes early.

She picked a good spot for the picnic. The one with a nice shade, far enough from the people walking through the park, and light fresh breeze blowing through her hair bringing in the scent of the flowers blooming in the park.

“Guess we are both early,” Tara jumped when she heard your voice and flipped around to see you standing there sheepishly rubbing the back of your head, all the while holding a bag filled with a couple of bottles of probably juice if she had to guess. You were kind of boring like that, not really consuming alcohol, but she guessed that would make Sam like you more because you weren't some party animal.

“Damn it, you scared me!” Tara put her hand over her chest trying to calm her heart rate down. Getting scared was not one of her plans for the day!

Your eyes widened and immediately she could see the guilt on your face. “I'm sorry! I should have texted you or something, I just didn't want you to rush if you weren't here and-“ you facepalmed, you didn’t forget about anything, you just got eager to see her and she wasn’t expecting you. “God, I'm such a fool for scaring you like that!” there you were being the caring, gentle dumbass she fell in love with.

Tara smiled widely, unable to restrain her reaction. “Hey, it's fine, come on, let's just sit down and start this again, OK? Shit, look at us,” Tara laughed as you joined her, still looking at her apologetically. “We're like two teenagers trying to go on their first date instead of hanging out as friends,” she chastised herself and you to an extent because you were both nervous and she couldn't wrap her head around why you were nervous. She was the one who intended to confess her love for you… unless…

No, that couldn't be right.

The two of you knelt down on the blanket and began taking things out of the bag you brought, and the basket Tara brought. “You really went all out! And it's all homemade!” you commented, and Tara just knew you could see the blush on her face.

You only complimented her cooking, once granted she only cooked for you once, and ever since then has been practicing, wanting to impress you once more.

“I just grabbed the leftovers,” of course she wasn’t going to tell you the truth. She would die of embarrassment if that happened, but you knew, you probably knew every single time she uttered a ridiculous lie just to save face.

You snorted at that. “Of course, of course, I wouldn't dare to imply the great Tara Carpenter would prepare food for an occasion this beneath her,” you laughed and despite the joke you just said something just didn't feel right about it. It annoyed Tara more than she ever imagined it would. She just hated that there was a certain sense of self-deprecation within your voice.

So, Tara reached up, grabbed you by the chin and pulled you closer. “Don't you dare ever think that,” she leaned in, intending to kiss you and get all of this confession bullshit out of the way, and just show you how she felt instead. But then you smirked and pulled away from her and her hand was just left hanging in the air, empty, while her lips remained stuck, slightly pursed as she intended to kiss you.

“Work for it, Carpenter,” you did not just say that. You did not just deny her of the kiss she wanted for so damn long.

“What the fuck?!” Tara just stared. You actually did that to her. “Work for it? How do I- I mean- You know-“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “Was I reading this all wrong,” she gestured between the two of you. “And you actually don’t feel the same way? Y/N, I can take it if you don't feel the same way, I'm not some-“

You interrupted her by placing the tip of your finger on her lips and snickering and now she was just confused. “I do feel the same way, I love you too, Tara,” you said it so easily even if she didn't, even if she wasn't all that sure she could say those three words anytime soon, despite how genuinely she felt them. “I just want you to work for the kiss. You've been a pain in my eyes for so long, I deserve this!” you laughed and took a bite of the sandwich she so carefully prepared, choosing all the ingredients you loved, and here you were saying she had to work for the kiss.

“What do you even mean by work? How?! Tell me how?!” she demanded red in the face from the anger and the embarrassment and because she was denied of what she wanted and like a petulant child that was suddenly rejected she was just about ready to throw a tantrum.

And that wasn't like her. She was denied so many things as a child, it wasn't in her nature to throw a temper tantrum, yet with you she really felt like that. She felt like the way you were loving her, even when you were just friends, was allowing that child within her to come out for perhaps the first time in her entire life.

“Ask for it, you can’t just take it,” you winked at her. “Come on, now, Tara, all you have to do is ask,” oh, you were enjoying this. You got your victory. You knew she felt the same way that you did before you even uttered a single word and here you were eating it all up like the menace you were.

“I'm just not gonna do it,” Tara pouted and refused to look at you even if she knew you would just shrug and keep eating the sandwich.

“Whatever works for you,” you were being way too nonchalant about this and she should have been elated that you felt the same way that she did, but this was infuriating in so many ways. Of course it had to be like this with you it couldn't be just an easy, simple confession, followed by a soft kiss, followed by a passionate kiss that would threaten to consume both of you. No, it had to be this complicated and difficult because that's who you were and that's who she was. She was Tara fucking Carpenter and every single thing in her life just had to be complicated.

Well not this time.

“Let me kiss you,” she leaned in and you burst out laughing backing away once more not allowing her to claim her reward.

“That's not how you ask, dumbass,” you just laughed and sure, fine, she could play that game too.

“I want to kiss you,” you were still leaning away and she faked a smile, speaking through gritted teeth. “Come on, Y/N, people are watching. They're looking at me leaning closer to you and you are not working with me here,” she was working hard for it and she had the right to her hard-earned reward.

“Not the magic word, Tara,” surely you weren't going to make her actually ask for it! You loved her back, why was this so complicated! She even licked her lips to tempt you, and she saw you looking down on her lips, she knew you wanted to kiss her as well! You just weren't giving in.

Fuck…

“Please, can I kiss you?” there. She asked. You smiled and didn't back away as she leaned in and that was all she needed to just go in and press her lips against yours for a heated, passionate kiss. And when she pulled back, she truly was rewarded by getting to see you being a stuttering, embarrassed mess. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked and stuck her own tongue at you, the tongue that was mere seconds ago inside of your mouth because of course she couldn't go for a soft kiss for the very first kiss. She had to be intense with everything that's included.

Especially with this because you deserved to be loved just as intensely as you loved her.

Safe to say you failed to construct a proper sentence for the next twenty or so minutes. Frankly she was impressed it only took you that long to get your composure back and actually start putting words together in a way that made sense.

[becca-e-barnes]

The Study

Not only is this the start of my 'Moving In' series, I'm also calling it my birthday piece! I turn 24 on Tuesday and I'm trying hard not to think about the fact I'm overdue a quarter-life crisis.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K (oops)

Warnings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky, sub! reader, spanking, use of a vibrator, forced orgasms, kinda Dom vibes but totally consensual, degradation, safe word system but safe word not used, pet names

Summary: Bucky spends the weekend at your new house and you take him on a tour.

Minors, do not interact

Turning the key in the front door still feels odd. One of the very first changes you made to the house was installing a new locking mechanism on both doors and it hasn't had a chance to stiffen up yet.

The smell of paint is starting to dissipate but it hits you hardest when you open the front door. The hallway was one of the last areas of the house to be redecorated so the smell seems to be most noticeable right at the door.

"Damn, this place is deceptive." Bucky's remark makes you smile to yourself while you hang your jacket up. "It's a whole lot bigger on the inside than I thought."

"It surprised me too. All of the rooms are a nice size."

The house had ticked so many boxes for you. More than two bedrooms in a quiet development, a low maintenance garden, off road parking, a downstairs bathroom and the whole house has plenty of potential. The plan isn't to live here forever, after all. It should be easy enough for you to sell when you decide to move on.

You flick a few lights on in the hallway and toss your keys into the bowl on the hall table before you turn your attention back to Bucky standing in your living room. Despite the fact you hadn't removed your own shoes, he's taken his off, leaving them neatly at the doorway of the living room beside his travel bag.

He's respectful of your space; he always has been but it's nice to just have him in your space. It's nice to have him be part of it.

He walks slowly around the little living room, looking at the few ornaments and picture frames you'd collected. "That's cute." He's looking at a picture of you and your best friend, sitting on the floor of your old kitchen, laughing yourselves to tears over the fact your Christmas tree was three inches tall and cut out from the back of a cereal box. The photo brings a smile to your face every time you see it.

"Are you hungry? You've had a long day." You move over behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his clothes while he looks at your pictures on the fireplace. He's had to travel for a few hours just to get here so you imagine he's bound to want something.

"I'm okay for now." You nod at his response, taking in the fact he's actually standing in your home.

The time you have with him is limited. That's how this works but for just less than two days, he's yours. After that, he'll go back home so you've learned to make the most of the time you have with him.

"Help yourself to whatever you like. Kitchen is down the hall." You don't even really want to move but you can't stand like this forever.

He turns in your arms so he's facing you and captures your lips in his. It's a soft, slow, gentle kiss; the kind you've been dreaming of since you last saw him. You need him to feel exactly how much you've missed him without having to tell him.

The kiss lasts for minutes, far beyond its natural end but neither of you care.

After what feels like forever, your lips part but your foreheads stay pressed together, both of you determined not to pull away.

"I still haven't gotten the grand tour." He's got the most beautiful eyes and they're locked on yours to the point that you'd almost forgotten he's never been here before. "But I want to start in your favourite room."

"Well, the study is my favourite. I converted one of the bedrooms into an office space."

"Show me."

You don't protest. Instead you head out of the living room and up the stairs to the furthest end of the hallway, with Bucky following closely behind you.

"These all used to be built-in storage units around a headboard for a bed. I took all the doors off the cabinets and made it into shelving." You'd turned the room into a space that you love. The walls are painted a light shade of cream with houseplants lined up between books on the shelves. Instead of storage around a headboard, you now have book shelves, arching around your desk. The other side of the room has a sofa that converts into a bed for extra guests and there's a beanbag in the corner by the window to read on.

"I see why it's your favourite. Odd mix of books here though." Bucky's eyes flick over the titles, ranging from your collection of political figures' autobiographies, the 'Diary of an Oxygen Thief' trilogy, the selection of books providing commentary on the criminal justice system and a good few classics.

"It is. But I like this room. It'll be cosy in winter once I get some fairy lights and nice and bright in summer. Somewhere to unwind." You're thinking out loud as you reach up to close the window and that's when you feel Bucky step behind you.

"I think we should celebrate." Bucky’s voice is low, his lips trailing up the side of your neck, heading towards the spot just behind your ear that he's always loved to kiss.

"I think..." He stops briefly on his path, taking a second to inhale deeply, determined to slow down. "I think we should make love in every room of your new house this weekend."

Fuck.

"Are you sure you're up for that? Because I can really stretch it out. I'm not sure how we're going to make it work in the pantry or the downstairs bathroom but I'm happy to try."

"Your 'pantry' is a cupboard." Bucky's breath is hot on your neck, and you feel his lips have curled into a smile.

"I know. You promised every room though." You can't help but tease him, although you're half serious. It's not your fault that you're keen. Not when he's kissing down your neck like that and holding your waist so your back is flush against him.

"You're a handful." You feel his fingertips graze the bare skin of your waist and you remember how nice it is to just be touched the way he touches you.

"I might be a handful but I can promise if I have my way, after you leave here on Sunday, you won't even be able to think about cumming again until Thursday at the very earliest."

"Jesus, that's one hell of a promise." He turns you around to face him and you notice his eyes are damn near twinkling with excitement.

You've got all weekend together; there's no need to rush but you can't help the overwhelming need to feel him sliding into you. That's when you feel closest to him and it's the closeness you're craving more than anything.

Your hand cups the side of his face, your thumb tracing across his freshly shaved jawline and you allow yourselves a second to just be together.

He smells familiar. The heat of his body against yours makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe.

"I want to start with you though. I brought you a little something." He kisses your lips gently and smooths a hand down over your hair before he retreats downstairs to the bag that he'd brought a few changes of clothes in.

He returns with a small cardboard box with the tape on one end already cut.

"I didn't have time to wrap it. It arrived last minute." You're so busy trying to get into the box that you hadn't even noticed.

Inside the box are a few instruction manuals, a thin white cord and a black satin pouch. Inside the pouch is a neon pink toy that's thicker at each end, narrow in the middle and nicely curved.

"I've already charged it and paired it to my phone. This end slips inside you." He points to the thicker end, studying your face to make sure you're okay with this.

And why wouldn't you be? This is pretty damn close to a dream come true.

"Remember what you said last time I saw you? You wanted me to spank you. Maybe we should take it a little further." He's always been hesitant to do anything that would hurt you and that fact is the very reason you want him to. You know how much he wants to protect you and knowing he cares about you has you convinced that he's the right person to explore this with.

"Please." You whisper, beyond excited at the thought of getting everything you've begged him for. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking about you bent over this desk with this inside you and we'll start off with a couple of light taps to that pretty ass." He presses the button on the narrow part of the toy and it give a short buzz, coming to life in his hands.

Fuck, you're into this man. You're into his hesitation just as much as you're into his willingness to try something new.

"Traffic light safe word system. 'Red' and I'll stop, 'amber' and I'll give you a break, 'green' to keep going." He wants to be fully sure you know you're in control here, not that you ever had any doubt.

You nod and stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him, this time with as much passion as you can manage. Your hands run through his hair while his trail over your body, your tongue flicking gently against his.

Just being around this man makes you wet, not that you'd ever admit that to him. Even the thought of him has you throbbing with arousal so now that he's here in front of you, your whole body feels like it's buzzing.

He touches you like he can't get enough. He can't get you close enough and it's beyond thrilling to be the subject of his need.

It's almost embarrassing that you get yourself worked up so easily but from the hungry look in his eyes when you undo the button of your jeans, he doesn't seem to mind.

You step out of your jeans and panties and Bucky helps you out of your top and bra, leaving you naked in your study.

"Look at you." Bucky sounds like he's almost in awe, no matter how many times he's seen you naked.

He kisses you again, matching the same passion he'd had earlier, trailing his hands over your soft, warm skin until his fingers are nestled between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're soaked." His fingertips trail between the folds of your sex, gathering the wetness he's responsible for. "Good girls don't get this wet at the thought of being spanked. You know that, don't you?"

You're almost too turned on to even respond to him. "Bend over. I want to see how well you take your toy."

You do as you're told, bending over your desk while Bucky drops to his knees behind you to slip the toy inside you. You feel him trail the thicker end of the toy against your slick cunt, gathering enough wetness to let it slip inside you comfortably.

Within a minute, the toy comes to life inside you and there's no way to stifle the moan that catches in your throat.

Not only is the internal part vibrating at a low, delightful buzz, the other end is pressed right to your clit and is stimulating it at the same strength.

"Did I say you could make a sound?" Bucky quizzes, sounding harsher than ever and when he gets no response, his hand comes down on your ass with so much force that it makes you yelp.

It was a hell of a spank and you can feel heat blooming under the skin of your left cheek, quickly followed by another spank to the right.

"For the record, you can make as much noise as you need to. But only because I've told you that you can. You see the difference?"

You force yourself not to nod and it has the effect you were hoping for. Two more harsh, painful spanks are delivered, one to each cheek, the same as before.

You don't know if you imagined it but the toy inside you feels stronger. You can't be sure if you're just focusing on the pleasure over the pain or if Bucky really has turned it up.

"Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" He needs to know you're enjoying this because a little part of him is surprised at just how much he's into it. He gets to control both your pleasure and your pain because you want him to and the trust alone is enough to get him off.

"Feels amazing, fuck. Making such a mess." Stringing sentences together isn't easy but you swear you're about to cum already. Your nipples rub delightfully against the wooden desk and you swear every sensation is heightened.

"I wish you could see the mess you're making. Looks fucking delicious." He turns the toy up ever so slightly but that's enough to send you spiralling, gripping the edge of the desk as pleasure ripples through your entire body.

You can do nothing but sob, cumming relentlessly because he's refused to turn the toy down. Even after you're done, he keeps it at the same intensity, moving on like nothing happened.

"You say the sluttiest things. That promise of yours to totally drain me. Who says shit like that? So fucking filthy."

"I mean it. I want every drop of cum you can give me. And then more." You know saying something like that will earn you another spank and it does.

"You're not just acting like a slut. You are a slut. You spend your life hiding it from everyone else but you can't hide it from me." A shiver runs down your spine. You almost feel like you've been caught. Like he's figured you out and now you have nothing left to hide. "Say it."

It's a clear instruction but saying it makes it real.

Your hesitation earns you another sharp spank, heat prickling both your face and your ass at the same time.

"Don't make me tell you twice." For someone hesitant to slip into a dominant role, he's absolutely nailing it.

"I'm your slut." Your voice is less steady than you would've hoped but the words at clear at the very least.

"My slut?" He almost sounds like he can't believe what he heard.

"Yours. Your slut." You repeat, wishing you could see his face.

"Oh sweetheart, that's cute." He means it too. He turns the toy up as a reward and even though it's only at half its full strength, you can't help but cum again, pleading your way through another blinding orgasm.

"Such a good girl for me. That's it. Cum nice and hard. Give that slutty little pussy what it needs." He lands one more harsh spank on your ass and you swear it only makes you cum harder, to the point that your legs are shaking.

But all of a sudden, the sensation stops completely.

"B-Bucky?" You ask, turning around to look at him, wondering if something went wrong.

"Don't want to wear you out, sweetheart. I think that'll do for now." You agree that it's probably a good place to stop and you have no problem taking the toy out for a while.

He pulls you in close, resting your head on his chest, letting you catch your breath while he holds you and kisses your forehead.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice is soft, hoping that you'll tell him the truth.

"No. It was perfect." You smile, capturing his lips in yours, hoping to relieve some of his fear. You're almost giddy with excitment. It truly was everything you needed and you fully intend to thank him for it before the weekend is over.

"Good. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would." He's back to the gentle, tender touches that you're so used to from him and it's a blessing that he can flick so effortlessly between both personas.

"How about we order in and stick a movie on?" He suggests, kissing the tip of your nose. "Go put on something comfortable. I'll find a takeout."

[reedsofintimacy]

Hi everyone! Welcome to my bio! (It's a long one)

You can call me Reeds or Reed. Some basic facts:

💚 I am 25

💚 I am 6'4 = 193cm

💚 I am American

💚 I am ethnically Scandinavian

💚 I speak basic Français and 汉语

💚 I am a virgin 😇 I've actually never had my first kiss

💚 I wear glasses and am definitely a nerd

💚 I am straight

My tags:

#Ask Reeds - my ask responses

#ReedsPosts - my misc short posts

#ReedsWrites - my longer form writing

#ReedsIRL - photos/audio/media of me

I have a snap with the same username and am finally verified on PH! But i haven't posted anything yet.

This bio will be a bit long, so for more info on everything about me click below! 🥳

💚 POSITIONS AND ROLES 💚

I'm a top, meaning I enjoy the act of pleasuring my partner more than having my partner be focused on stimulating me. If we had to pick a position, I'd want it to be the one that feels best to her, because seeing her loving it is what thrills me, less about min-maxing my own sensations

I lean a bit subby, meaning I'd prefer my woman to be in charge and take the lead, but I can be flexible and switch. Society has (sadly 🎻) not created many women who feel naturally comfortable bossing men around in the bedroom or elsewhere and really enjoy it. That's fine, I mostly just want to pamper my partner. Whether that's through worship and service as a sub myself, or spoiling a pillow princess submissive as more of a dom. It feels less natural to me, but when I see how happy and needy it makes her I'm very happy to give it my best 🩷 but I can't do super mean aggressive slap-slap-slap "what did you say to me!?" *punish *punish it just isnt in me.

So combining those two (top and sub), I like the sort of woman who while we're hanging out would decide she wants her pussy eaten, and so would spread her legs, and begin tugging a bit at me coaxing "babyy~ i think you need a little snack~ 😈🫦" and then watch a huge bulge form in my pants as my face makes contact with her thighs and I greedily service her until she can't take it anymore and pulls me up to kiss her instead.

Or while we're in a fitting room shopping for clothes would lift up her skirt, revelaing she isnt wearing any panties, and lean in giving me a big hickey and whisper "you're going to breed me in this fitting room 💋" and giggle as she leaned over into the position that always felt the best for her, eyeing my blushing red embarassed face, hesitating. "Or else I'll moan 👅💕" she'd threaten and tease, but silence herself with a bite of her lip when she felt me slide in and fill her, her personal fucktoy thrusting just the way she taught him until she gets everything she wanted, and then praises me with a "thank you, good boy 🥰😘" enjoying the helpless puddle I've now been turned into. Then slide her pants back on and walk out of the room with her pet's sperm still leaking down her thigh, off to go keep browsing while waiting for me to collect myself.

💚 FETISHES AND KINKDOM 💚

I'm fine with just plain vanilla sex ofc all cuddly and lovey with little growls of "you're mine 🫦"

🩵 BDSM ❓️

I'm not into bdsm like sadomasochism and pain play. Wax, knives, whips, black leather. I just don't get the appeal, I'm soft and sweet. Some light bondage to mix things up, collaring, etc is all fine but not too much beyond that.

🩵 Pegging ❌️

I am *not* into pegging 🙀 (gasp) I know. Heresy. But I don't want anything in my butt, see the above about topping. Although being pinned down and her riding her clit against my bottom to masturbate herself...😏💦

🩵 Humiliation & Praise

I like the idea of humiliation but anytime I've actually heard it its been super cringe. The fantasy of the "popular girls" inviting me to a sleepover just to watch how easy i get hard then pin me down and toy with me knowing whatever they show me would be the most I've ever seen, etc is really sexy to me 🫠 but the moment a real human voice is roleplaying it idk I find it hard to suspend disbelief and not be overly aware of myself and feel silly. Maybe its the anxiety disorder. Praise is always nice 🥰

🩵 Service

I consider myself a service top sub and love to worship and please someone, whatever it is that makes them turned on. That can be giving lots and lots of head and getting my face ridden 😍 or using my hands for her, or giving a foot massage, or chest kneading, or holding her book as she reads, or brushing her hair, or carrying her things, or worshipping her butt with kisses, smooching her tummy, clitwarming her in my mouth while she reads, etc. I love to be useful to someone and that extends to in the bedroom. Bonus if it comes with praise for doing a good job.

🩵 Breeding 💦

Creampies are so sexy, i dunno why you'd want to finish anywhere else. There's something so posessive about insemination and the idea of fertility and a cervix and womb thats just very 🥵. I also think the body changes associated with pregnancy are very sexy. Getting a cute tummy bump and swollen leaky breasts the prove I'm claimed to you now is yummy. But i dont think i want kids, definitely not right now, and theres nothing sexy about labor pains or abortions lol so for now this is more of a mental fantasy kink. But if they invented a birth control pill that still simulated the tummy and tits a bit and needed a particular potency and cycle timing to activate i would be alllll over it 😍😍 also maternity clothes are so cute.

🩵 Dry humping & grinding

I'm a very big virgin, so sometimes overly forward stuff just overloads my senses like blowing out a photograph with sunlight and i dont get much out of it. With dry humping the motions, the desperation, the longing for whats behind her panties but not quite getting it, the involvement of her clit which will feel really nice for her, how she rocks her hips controlling exactly what tempo will make her go absolutely crazy its just so needy and cute and sexy. Id love someone able to get off just by desperately rubbing agsinst my throbby bulge.

🩵 Posession, Lipstick stains, & Hickeys

Possession is very sexy and what better way than cute lipstick marks stamping me as owned. Or a collar, or her name written in sharpie on my underwear, or bites just under the shirt line. I want it all I want to be so so hers.

🩵 Lactation 🙈

Idk if the actual milk would be warm and gross irl but the idea that you can suckle someones pretty tits so hard it makes them leak, and that milk pressure builds up and gets achy needing to be relieved by a subs mouth is very 💦💦💦 plus needed to go through breeding to activate it usually is kinda naughty in a "I did this to you" type of way.

🩵 Me as a Dom

As far as being more of a dom goes, I think I actually prefer the ddlg side of things, which I think is currently out of style and unpopular. But I like the dynamic lending itself to pampering and spoiling someone and being more focused on sweetness relative to just being some sort of master figure. Also like littlespace gear is still so cute like pacis and onesies will be adorable forever its such a mix of cutesy girly and a bit humiliating for someone to wear that I really think it works 🩷When I identified more as a dom I kinda always wanted an abdl sub to baby and still think its cute and degrading and hot & am embarassed to admit that, I never e-dated anyone who actually did it. 💖 but if I'm the sub, while I have a mommy kink I'm not into regression or any of that stuff myself

🩵 Omo/pee (her, not me) sounds spicy and is hot to watch, idk if it'd gross me out irl. I used to be really into videos of girls wetting their pants or panties and something about it is still strangely hot. Have a tiny maybe fantasy of a girl making out with me straddling my lap and then just letting her bladder go as we kiss and grind soaking us both. 🙈

🩵 Collaring and petplay is cute, I'd totally wear one for her.

🩵 Getting referred to as "my little white boy" by a nonwhite person with a thing for white guys (🙈🙈 SHUTUP!!)

🩵 Minor humiliation like being teased by her panties or sat on/used as a stool etc

🩵 Not really an irl thing but in hentai when the girl is overstuffed and you can see the bulge pushing up her tummy 🥵

🩵 Corruption, of either of us and especially me.

🩵 Dirty Talk

One of my absolute favorite things to do is get to talk to someone as they touch themselves 🩷 turning them on with my fantasies and then begging them to please please please cum, spamming my words as they release so they can just read and not have to type just feel like im there with them 🥰

💚 MY "TYPE" IN WOMEN 💚

My taste in women irl is that I always have the biggest crush on the kindest girl 🙈 like the one who's proactive and honestly makes me feel bad for not being a better person when I'm around her. Someone who listens, has a big heart, Christmas is her favorite holiday just because of the cheer and her sweet childhood memories and she thinks its cute to hold hands. Who focuses on the positives whenever possible and wouldn't compromise her ideals to fit in socially. Not into gossip or putting people down, is nice to strangers, waitresses, etc. I think you get the point. Something about those sort of people imprints deep into my heart 💟

I am into successful, intelligent, driven women. Like "I was the president of ___ club, I'm a ___ position in this company, I have a degree in ___, I speak ___ and ___ languages, I play the ___" it all makes me just 🥵🥵🥵. I'd love someone who has some sort of public skill/hobby like playing in an orchestra 😍 or doing community theater or playing in a sports team, anything where I can show up and get to be a cheerleader like 🥹😻 that's my baby up there!!! And get to clap and cheer and compliment how she did I just think would be super cute and fun. Then take her out to dinner afterward for doing such a good job ⭐️

I don't find typical domme-aesthetic things like -- *Smoking *Vapes *Weed *Lots of tattoos *Short hair *Goth vibes *fishnets *dyed hair *promiscuous *into knives and blood -- to be very attractive personally. Just not my type.

I'm more into miss innocent church girl, honors student valedictorian who secretly has had a high sex drive awakened and guess who walked right into her trap 👀💦 she secretly corrupted herself and now she's going to corrupt me 🙈❤️‍🔥

I totally get the sex appeal around the bully type domme who is all tough, even if she shows you her sweet side, and that sounds super hot on paper but idk irl I just don't seem to be into people who are actually that way. Its very "sexy" but it isn't compatible on a deeper layer

I don't really care about age. Obviously they *must* be legal but college student who is younger than me vs someone my age vs milf who is a bit older it's all a wash. All have their distinct appeal. All get a 👍.

Height is also inconsequential. I mean I'm (6'4 193cm) or thereabouts so I'm nearly always going to be a fair bit taller than my partner regardless of her height. I think the size difference is cute, something about having a 4' in your height is just idk a bit hot? Lol but i have no real preference I like the whole spectrum and never really think about height, and hypothetically if I *could* find a woman who's my height or taller, that'd be sexy too 🥰 Different flavors but all delicious.

I am a genuine fan of both more curvy and more skinny body types, but less so each extreme. A slim figure and grabbable waist i can fit my hand around and a lil *pow* booty is scrumptious, but if she's so skinny its like borderline unhealthy and it feels like id break her if I grab her wrong and I can see all her bones 😬. Of course I'm very happy to support a partner struggling with an ed or who has had one in the past, but I want my darling more than anything to be healthy. Likewise curvy people can be extremely yummy 😋😍, I love a curvy tummy in a bikini it oozes fertility. but if its to the extent it prevents her from going on cute lil hikes with me and creates health problems then I'd want to help her workout and cook her some homemade healthier food so she can feel better and be more energized and well. But purely aesthetically ❤️ curvyness is a yes. So are stock standard body types ❤️

Breasts and everything to do with the body is actually kinda gravy because for me its the *face* that I'm attracted to and the body is just the fun present that comes along for the ride. Nothing about someones chest size or whatever would make me unattracted to them if i liked their face. Buttt obviously a full chest is nice, but i hesistate to say big because it really depends on weight and body. Fullness relative to body type so that it 🥳 pops is most sexy. So a skinnier girl will be a smaller size, but being skinny and still having a fairly prominent bosom makes it 🥳 pop. Likewise being curvy will grow the size, but some people already big will now develop 💥turbo milkers💥 that 🥳 pop. So its less about surface area or bra size and more about protrusion from the chest, and ofc big is nice ❤️ that being said an itty bitty chest while independently less sexy becomes part of a persons vibe and fits into the whole which as a connected body can be very attractive 💋 Plus then you get to wear pretty bralettes. I'm not really hyper aware of tit sizes but I did want to explain what I think most guys mean when they say they like "big tits" but also we dont pay that close attention a boob is a boob and theyre all fun so just 🩷 love your body mkay?

Bootys i notice less person to person, theres just like 3% of the population that has 💥💥 in their pants and *also* dresses to accentuate it and show it off and look we all think those people are 🤤🤤 like making a protruded lil mound out of their tight jeans or rocking some yoga pants or leggings. Hottie hot hot but 97% of us have unremarkable normal butts.

One thing I *am* really into, the closest thing I have to a "type" is long hair ✨️✨️. Like i have never seen a girl with hair past her butt I didn't want to marry. Mid-back 😀 waist length 😃 past butt 🤪 the longer the better. Idk what it is it just seduces and intoxicates me its so pretty. I know its such a pita for women to maintain which is why its very rare, and my partner can have her hair however she wants it i wouldnt want her to suffer for me, but super long hair is just goddess tier its like the one physical attribute i have a clear robust preference on. Short hair indeed can be cute but long hair will always win in my heart. Straight, a bit wavy, curly honestly it doesnt matter that much its all gorgeous. Long hair my beloved 💕 may i have my lady sit on my lap and allow me to brush it for her some day. I want to help wash it and learn 1,000 ways to style it for her, although hanging free is the best 😍

People have different physical sensitivities, and I think I prefer having a pretty sensitive partner. I've had before during sexting where I'd spend 3 hours naughty talking someone and sexting while they touch and still just barely cum by the end, and other partners where we'd be going 20 mins and she'd go 🥺 I'm really close and I'd beg her to let it go and then she'd release and then probably be too sensitive to even go again for a whole day. That was soooo cute and sweet to me. Since I love pleasing someone so much getting that validation more quickly was really nice and also fit my schedule better, and it would be so creamy and throbby and pulsy when she was done it made my eyes roll back to just watch it. And she'd have to be so careful about how much she touched or it would ache even if she was soaked and horny still. It was really endearing ❤️ everyone is different and needs different amounts of time but I'd prefer someone where I can pour everything into a really great 30 or 40 mins as opposed to being up all night trying to get them off. Being especially creamy is also a plus 🤭

I'm totally fine with someone who is a little too tight and has to be really gentle with themselves, its cute and I don't mind at all if most days all she can tolerate is a gentle tonguing and some kissing. Same with if she's too sensitive and has to stop early before I finish, so long as she gets off and is satisfied I'm a happy camper 😇💖 But nothing wrong with stamina either

So concludes the sexual information!

💚 About Me Personally 💚

🩵 I am musical 🎶

I play the guitar 🎸 and previously played the drums 🥁 and piano 🎹 and even have a clarinet

🩵 I'm a big reader 📖

I have a particular interest in Classical Eastern Literature and have read things like the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, the Valmiki Ramayana, Journey to the West etc. I'm a big fan of classics in general, my favorite book of all time is the Count of Monte Cristo

I also have been getting into classical SciFi, been reading a lot of PKD and some Dan Simmons and Kurt Vonnegut and it's been really enjoyable so far.

🩵 I'm a programmer

I can do fullstack web development from html to nginx and work mostly within the dotnet ecosystem.

🩵 I'm a nerd en général

I love learning things. My first love is the sciences, I went to college for chemistry. I would love to have time to improve my terrible math skills and pick up Korean as a another language, and want to level up my world history especially with regards to Africa and Southeast Asia both of which I am fairly unacquainted with.

You can talk to me about productivity systems, desk setups, fountain pens, video games, and other weird nerd things.

🩵 I want to travel

I've never left the US and one day would love to get to see more of the world.

🩵 I do some amateur writing

I enjoy making my lil erotica mini stories here, and also sometimes in my freetime plan out silly novels and short stories never to be published but just for fun.

💚 I think I'll end things here for now, there's definitely more to me but that should be an effective enough primer. If you made it this far and havent dm'd me...wtf is wrong with you?? We're basically already friends now? 😘

[tilebytiles]

star treatment - a.t. (part 2)

summary: there's a strange man named alex that has a strange obsession with you, and he makes the strangest offer of your life. word count: 3.2k warnings: none part 1

You had fallen asleep a while ago. The stars, although breathtakingly beautiful this far out in space, had eventually gotten tiring to look at, and your brain itched for something else. You were still too tense to talk to anyone else on the spacecraft, and Alex was nowhere to be found, although you doubted you'd talk to him anyway. With no methods of entertainment beyond staring out the window, you fell asleep rather quickly, your imagination conjuring up strange dreams about the hotel you were heading to.

The only thing that woke you up was the sound of rustling clothes in front of you. Drowsily, you forced your eyes open and your body to come up onto your feet. You were a little wobbly from trying to do so much so quick, but you regained your balance rather quickly and began to follow the journalists down the narrow aisle between the rows of seats. If there was anything science fiction films had taught you, you should have been floating through that rocket instead of walking. Your feet, however, remained firmly planted on the carpet, a fact that was rather disappointing. Floating would have been cooler.

The interior of the seating area was done in soft, warm colours, offering an inviting atmosphere. The seats were a navy blue with an off-white stripe down the center, and the walls were a shade of pink, something close to salmon, you thought. The floor was done in the same colour, but down the aisle was a red carpet. There weren't many seats, so the rocket could only house a group about the size of this one at any time. You didn't mind; the less people you had to awkwardly avoid, the better.

You realised the giant window at the end of the aisle that you'd thought was for stargazing was actually a port. As soon as you stepped into the giant see-through tube, you heard the door slide shut behind you, sealing you off from the rocket. You couldn't help but marvel at the empty chasm of space that surrounded you, as well as the moon that rested beneath you. From here, you could make out the complex building you were realising was meant to be the hotel. It looked futuristic and retro at the same time, an effect that wasn't hard to achieve; the architecture looked like the kind that was popular in the 70s, providing a sort of nostalgic feel, but it was sitting on the surface of the moon. This definitely wouldn't have been possible in the 70s (you could hardly believe it was possible now).

One of the journalists spoke up, shattering the awestruck silence. "He's a bit mad for doin' all this."

The journalist beside him shrugged. "It's kinda cool, though, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, but imagine having these kinds of funds ... and you waste it on a lunar hotel?"

You hardly knew Alex, but it made you feel a little uneasy to hear someone speaking ill of him. You wanted to speak up, but a third journalist beat you to it. "If anything, he's proving we can even do this kind of shit on the moon. It's better than some of the stunts billionaires have been pulling."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miles," the first journalist grumbled. "Stop kissing his ass."

The journalist named Miles rolled his eyes, then glanced over at you. You hadn't even realised he was walking beside you. He grinned at you and held out a hand for you to shake. "Miles Kane," he said.

You slowly shook his hand. "Y/N L/N."

"You don't exactly seem like the reporter type. What're you doin' up here with this pretentious lot?"

You liked him already.

"Alex invited me," you told him. "I haven't really figured out why yet."

He nodded, seeming to ponder over the information you'd just given him despite it only being two sentences. "I'm sure we'll get along perfectly," he finally said, smiling at you again. "If any of these pricks cause you trouble, just lemme know."

"Thank you." You smiled back at him.

When you made it to the other end of the tube, the door in front of you slid open, allowing your party of prose into the hotel. Your eyes widened once you stepped through the door. The room you were in, which you guessed to be the main lobby, was absolutely gigantic - or at least, it felt that big. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the whole space with sconces mounted on the walls to light up the spots the chandelier couldn't reach. The walls were a warm, perhaps almost burnt, shade of orange, and the floor was made of lush carpet, the pattern almost hypnotising. Squiggles of colour stretched from wall to wall above a black background. The wall to your right, close to the door, held floor-to-ceiling windows, showcasing the moon and the stars in all their glory. To your left was the reception desk, the lift to its left and the stairs to its right. Chairs and tables were scattered amongst the space, providing plenty of spots to sit and rest. Mounted on the wall behind the reception desk was a flat-screen TV. You were impressed it could pick anything up out here.

Your group wandered over to the reception desk, and to your surprise, someone popped out of the door that had an 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' plaque, grinning at you all. "Pleasure to meet you!" he said. "Mr. Turner told me you'd be arriving."

Alex's last name was Turner?

"Hold on," the first journalist from before said, "you mean you've just ... been here?"

The receptionist nodded, still smiling. "We've had more than enough resources to last us, don't worry. And they're replenishable! But we can get into that later."

"There's more than one of you?"

"All the staff were busy prepping for your arrival. We hope you enjoy your stay. Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino. My name's Mark, and I'll be your guide for the tour today."

You admired Mark's genuine enthusiasm. Then again, you didn't think it'd be very hard to be enthusiastic about a job like this.

He came out from behind the desk and motioned for your group to follow as he headed for the open doorway across from the door you'd just come through. It opened out into a long hall, branching off into different rooms. "This is where the café is," he said, pointing to one of the sets of doors you passed by. "That's where you'll be eating all your meals, although your options will differ depending on the time of day. That," he said, pointing to another set of doors, "is the gym. There's all kinds of equipment in there, and it's completely free for all guests, so don't be afraid to stop by."

He continued leading you down the hall, pointing at different doors and explaining them. Connected to the café was a greenhouse that provided different types of produce, and it was available to guests ("take a tour or let the little ones learn how to garden!" he had said). There was a library, a laundry room, and even something like a patio at the very end of the hall, allowing you to get as close to the moon itself as you safely could.

When you came back up the hall and squeezed into the lift, Mark explained how the actual hotel rooms would be the last part of the tour; that way, you could all rest as soon as you got to your rooms. Your first stop was the very top of the hotel, where you could see the large hexagonal neon sign spinning slowly on top of its pole. They had built a pool into the roof, complete with a ladder to make getting in and out easy, a diving board, various chairs set up, umbrellas that you weren't even sure were necessary and bathrooms and changing rooms, the latter of which were fully stocked with robes, bathing suits and pool toys.

Heading down a floor revealed the hotel's partial namesake: the casino. The lights were significantly dimmer here than they were in the rest of the hotel, but they weren't so dim that you couldn't see at all. Machines had been pushed up against every wall and were lined up perfectly around the room. It was almost overstimulating, and you were grateful you left when you did, although the aftereffects of all the lights remained in your vision as colourful blobs for some time.

Your whole group was staying on the same floor. You didn't know if you were glad about it or dreading it. At least Miles would be nearby, you thought. He'd been making the occasional quiet joke to you throughout the whole tour, and you did your best to stifle your laughter to avoid dirty looks from the others.

"I'll talk to you later," he said, snapping you out of your thoughts. You hadn't even realised you'd made it to your rooms. His was across the hall from yours. You nodded and flashed him one last smile before unlocking your door with the key Mark had given you and stepping inside.

The room was lavishly decorated. You almost felt guilty for staying there for free. A four-poster bed stood tall, the frame painted a creamy white and the mattress covered in a white sheet. A thin fabric, something like lace, hung from each corner like curtains. The blanket looked soft, inviting, and after many, many hours of being stuck in a rocket and sleeping in a (albeit comfortable) chair, slipping under the covers and taking a proper nap sounded heavenly. You forced yourself to hold off on that nap, though, and continued your exploration of the room.

The overhead light was built into the ceiling, and upon discovering a small remote on top of the chest of drawers across from the bed, you realised the brightness could be changed. There was a floor-to-ceiling window built into the wall across from the door, offering yet another stunning view. The closet that was built into the wall rested to the left of the bed, and to the right was a small nightstand. In the closet, you found all sorts of clothes. At least there was comfort in the fact that no matter what happened, you'd be well-dressed for the occasion. Not far from the nightstand was a door, and when you opened it, you discovered the bathroom.

Ah, yes. It was about time you took a shower.

The water was perfectly warm, and the shampoo smelled lovely. Although it had only been a few days, you still felt gross for having gone so long without a shower; you guessed it was only because you were used to showering every day. When you finished getting cleaned up, you slipped into the cosiest pair of pyjamas you'd ever gotten your hands on and made sure to turn the light off before slipping into the unnecessarily fancy bed.

You wondered what Alex was up to. You hoped you'd see him tomorrow, mostly so you could thank him for inviting you in the first place. Although the concept of a hotel in space still felt a bit mad to you, you were beginning to realise it really wasn't as bad as you'd expected it to be. Maybe you were even a bit proud of him.

•••••

The next morning - at least, you guessed it was morning - you made your first trip to the café Mark had shown you. You had to admit, you were starving. Although you'd been given snacks on the rocket, they were exactly that - snacks. They hadn't been near enough to keep you full, and now your stomach felt like it was going to gnaw its way through your entire body if you didn't get something to eat soon.

A few of the journalists were already in there, including Miles. You headed towards the counter, where the employee behind the till smiled at you. "What can I get for you today?"

"Uh ..." You stared at the imposing menu on the wall, assessing your options. "Can I have the egg croissant, please?"

"Would you like a drink with that?"

"Water's fine, thanks." The employee nodded, punching your order in, and when the small number popped up on the digital screen sticking up from the till, your eyes widened. It was cheaper than you'd been expecting. You quickly fished your wallet out of your pocket.

Once the transaction was complete, you headed for Miles' table and sat across from him. He was scribbling something in his notepad, but when he heard the creak of your chair, his head snapped up. When he realised it was you, he grinned. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hey," you replied. "What are you doing?"

"Writin' down some notes for that article I gotta write. We've been here for less than a day, and I already have enough info to crank out a goddamn essay."

That made you laugh, earning a sideways glance from one of the journalists. It was the one that had been questioning Alex's motives before. You heard Miles scoff, prompting you to look back at him with a raised brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

He snorted. “Hardly paradise with that prick around.”

“Who is he?”

“James Schwartz, also known as one of the biggest dickheads on the planet. Old money - his dad runs the paper he writes for, and his dad ran it before that, and so on. Heard he’s in line for the throne.” He shook his head. “He’s willin’ to do anything for a story. Can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a few months, either.”

“What do you mean, he’s willing to do anything?”

He eyed you for a few moments, as if he was debating whether or not he should unveil James’ moral crimes to you. Eventually, he sighed, leaning back in his chair; so much so that the two front legs rose from the floor. “The best of it, so to speak, is that he flooded some poor shop owner’s voicemail until they phoned him back.”

“And the worst?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze sauntered over to land on James, who’d put a pair of headphones on at some point and remained entirely oblivious to your conversation. Still, to be on the safe side, Miles’ voice lowered, forcing you to lean over to hear him. “He dated a girl, some model from Bristol. A couple of months later, she broke up with him, and then suddenly, her nudes were up on the Internet, free for all perverted fucks to see. He was one of the first to cover the story, and his article painted her in a suspicious light, spoutin’ some shite about how she shouldn’t have let anyone take such compromisin’ pictures of her. She quit modelling not long after. It was never proven to be him, but …” He shrugged and looked back to you.

Your stomach churned at the mere thought of what he’d gotten away with. “Surely someone questioned him?”

“If they did, he probably paid them to keep quiet. Either way-” He dropped his pencil onto his notepad. “-I would stay away from him, if I were you.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” you mumbled.

After your food had arrived and you’d satiated your hunger, Miles suggested heading up to the pool for a quick dip. You agreed, although considering you’d just eaten, you didn’t think you would actually do any swimming. This notion seemed a bit funny to him, and he even asked if you were chicken, but he didn’t press the matter any further.

Much to your delight, there were swimsuits in the dressing room, and you slipped into a black bikini on the off chance you hopped into the water. Wrapping yourself up in a plush white robe that had the hotel’s acronym embroidered into the left breast, you stepped out onto the pool deck. Miles was already in the pool, clad in a pair of black swim trunks and swimming from one end to the other, engaged in an intense race against himself. You plopped down onto one of the pool chairs and stretched your legs out, watching as Miles swam to the edge closest to you with a grin. “The water’s lovely.”

“I’d rather not get cramps,” you said, making him laugh. He playfully splashed water in your direction, spraying small droplets onto your calves and the chair beneath you. The water was cold against your skin.

You heard the entrance to the pool open, making you turn and look over your shoulder. Alex stood in the doorway, and when he saw you, he managed a small smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“I was looking for Miles.” He glanced around you and spotted the man in question, who offered an enthusiastic wave that was akin to one from a child. “Mark said you’d be here.”

“You should come join me, Mr. Turner,” Miles replied, assuming an exaggerated air of pompousness. “Have you even tested your own pool?”

Alex seemed to genuinely consider that question for a few moments. His hands slid down into his pockets, and his lips pressed together before finally parting to form the words, “No, I haven’t.”

And with that, he found himself in swim trunks exactly like Miles’ less than a few minutes later. It was the first time you’d seen him in anything beyond his perfectly crisp suits, and it also offered you a chance to admire his physique. His abs were lightly defined, as were the muscles lining his arms; the veins in his forearms protruded, as if all they needed was a small push before bursting from his skin; his legs had about as much hair as you could have expected, and there was a light smattering of hair across his chest. Draped over his chest, sinking into the dips of his collarbones, was a thin gold chain, the same one you’d seen him wear a number of times at the café.

Miles whistled, snapping you out of the spell Alex’s body had put you under. “She’s oglin’ ya.”

“Am not!” you protested, glaring at him.

He only rolled his eyes. “There’s nothin’ wrong with admirin’.”

You didn’t say anything, only crossed your arms over your chest. It wasn’t like you needed to respond, though; the heat that spread across your cheeks like wildfire spoke volumes.

If you were being perfectly honest with yourself - which you did reluctantly - Alex had always caught your eye. You mostly attributed it to the mysterious aura that he was always shrouded in, brought into existence by how little he spoke, how much he kept to himself, and the documents he primarily occupied himself with. Even if you now knew what those documents had been for, there were still heaps of things that remained locked away from you. For fuck’s sake, you’d learned his last name from a complete stranger.

In some ways, his mystery was a siren call, coaxing you in for what you thought might be your untimely demise. If there was anything the piles of romance novels in your flat had taught you, it was that strange men- especially rich ones- shouldn’t ever be trusted with matters of the heart.

As Alex lowered himself into the pool, though, you let yourself ogle for a little while longer.

[ingravinoveritas]

You've probably got a thousand things to say about the latest "The Kiss" info, but I have been thinking about it all morning, especially about the way there seems to be no need to acknowledge it between the two of them. They just went for it, and then they didn't feel the need to talk about it. Idk about everyone else but to me that just feels like to them, this was just a kiss among perhaps many. They knew the song and dance around it already, so there was no need to mark it as different other than it being in characters rather than out of.

But those are just my thoughts. So excited to hear about yours if you have any :3

Hi there! Oh, yes…yes, I do have so many thoughts about Michael talking about the kiss, and The Assembly in general.

Something I'm not sure I've mentioned on here (at least not in a long time) is that five years ago (in June of 2019), I wrote a thread on Twitter about fanfic and why it was so important to me as an autistic woman, as well as the role it played when I began to discover my sexuality. I received a lovely comment from Neil, and on top of that, Michael reposted it from me, which was entirely unexpected but delightful.

So when I first heard about The Assembly, I was anxious, apprehensive, and uncomfortable--mainly because of how the autistic/ND interviewers would potentially be depicted on screen. By the end of the show, however, I was in tears--and for once, in a good way. Michael did not let me down for one single second (which I did not think he would), and I loved how he and everyone else just held space for each other during the group singalong to "Here Comes the Sun."

(The only thing I haven't liked is seeing some of the response on social media that suggests Michael did an extraordinary thing just by talking to autistic/disabled people like we are human beings. It shouldn't be special when he or anyone else does that, but it's depicted that way because it is unfortunately still so rare...)

In terms of Michael talking about the kiss with David, it was of course so lovely to see his expressions and listen to him talk about what it was like. For me it was the fact that he actually didn't say that much that was so revealing. It was perfectly in line with what was reported about what Michael said a month ago, about it being "everything you dream of." With the Assembly, we could now see and hear him talking about it and that same carefulness with which he gave the previous answer--a carefulness borne not out of wanting to hide something, but wanting to keep something about the kiss private. Just for him and David.

I also feel like some folks might have misunderstood what he meant when he said, "We never talk about it," though. I think the unspoken part after that is, "We never talk about it, not because we don't want to, but because we don't need to"...

And I agree with you that it was exactly that--one kiss out of many, something so tried and true that neither David nor Michael had to give it much thought. It also makes me think of previous discussions about comments from David about how, between the sunglasses and the contact lenses for Crowley, he couldn't see shit, yet he only needed one take to find Michael's lips. It's like needing a GPS when you drive someplace new, but then it quickly becomes familiar, and after a while you don't need anyone to tell you how to get there. Because you already know the way home.

Talking about the kiss like this almost gives a feeling of domesticity, of something deeply intimate, beyond the physical. I'm thinking of it as well in tandem with David's comments from prior to the BAFTAs, about it being "another day at work" and saying that Michael had "brushed his teeth." There are so many examples from movies or TV shows where a couple wakes up in bed together in the morning and when one person goes in for a kiss, the other stops them and says "Not until you've brushed your teeth" (or something to that effect). And it just makes me picture them getting up to film that day and sharing a good morning kiss, after which David gently reminds Michael to brush his teeth before he gets to the set. (And he does, because Michael never forgets anything David tells him.)

The last thing that I wanted to mention that stood out to me was Michael talking about how moved everyone was--both the people who watched the kiss be filmed on set, and the fans who watched it in the show. You could actually hear the way his voice caught in his throat, hear him become emotional just from remembering that. And it made me think back to when GO 2 came out last summer, in the midst of the Writers Strike (and then SAG-AFTRA) and how Michael was probably reading all of the fan reactions online and feeling very much the same way, even though he couldn't say anything about it.

So it becomes even more poignant and compelling that now, when he finally can say anything he wants at all about the kiss, he gives us so little. Or maybe just enough, with a small, knowing smile on his face. Because he's found a boy he likes, and he has his photo.

Those are my thoughts on Michael talking about the kiss on The Assembly. I know it's been a week now, but hopefully everyone has had time to process it too, so I'd love to hear what you all think. Thank you for writing in! x

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing ch8

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

ao3

-

As usual, John couldn’t sleep, but for once it wasn’t due to the nightmares. His fingers kept ghosting over his lips, remembering how Martin had kissed him. It made him shiver. Everything felt so unreal, like this had to be a dream, but it wasn’t. He had to tell himself that over and over, to keep himself grounded. 

John had never been lucky in love. He’d never been lucky in anything, as evident by his entire life. He could still hardly believe he might have a friend, let alone that he might be in love with him. And that the friend in question might love him back. 

He didn’t know how to do this, he was going to ruin it all. He was going to break Martin’s heart as well as his own. No, that wasn’t fair, he had much more confidence in Martin than himself. He’d managed to remain his friend despite how he’d tried to push him away. Maybe they would be okay. But he didn’t want to constantly be a burden like that, always leaving it to Martin to clean up his mess. 

Which, once again, left him with no clue what to do. Martin was already giving up so much by being here with him, and it wasn’t fair. He deserved so much, but instead he would likely lose his entire life; friends, his job, everything. Maybe they could keep this a secret, maybe Martin could still have both. John just didn’t know how to make that happen. 

He was still lost in thought when he felt Martin approaching. He looked outside, surprised to see the early morning sunlight streaming in. When had that happened? He figured he might as well get up and make them both some tea. It wouldn’t be as nice as Martin’s, but hopefully he would appreciate it being ready when he got here. The forest could be chilly so early in the morning. 

By the time he’d finished brewing, Martin still hadn’t come inside. That was strange, he’d definitely entered the safety of his wards. Maybe he was worried about waking him and was staying outside? John grabbed the two mugs and headed for the door.  

It didn’t take long to find him. Martin had apparently been feeding the chickens, but was currently sprawled on the ground with two lying on his chest, a third enjoying Martin’s hand as it ruffled its feathers. The remaining chickens were busy pecking at the ground, occasionally running over Martin in the process. 

“Ah,” John said, failing to smother a grin as he leaned against the fence. “I see they have finally abandoned me and claimed you as their favorite. Traitors.”

“John,” Martin exclaimed, craning his neck to look up at him. “Good morning. We didn’t wake you, did we?”

“No, you're fine,” John said, and he knew the smile he gave him had to be absolutely besotted, but he couldn’t help it. 

There was just something so endearing about the entire situation, seeing him so gentle with the birds. They’d been a necessity in the beginning, and as annoying as they could be, John had grown rather fond of them, so it was nice to know that they approved of Martin in some way. 

Beyond that, though, Martin had returned. In fact, he’d returned so early, as if he had been counting down the hours until it finally became light enough for him to head out, like he couldn’t wait to be back. 

It made something in his chest ache with the unfamiliarity, a warmth that spread through him and scared as much as it soothed him. He was fairly certain they smiled at each other for much longer than was normal, lost in the moment, until John finally shook himself. 

“I, um, made tea,” he said lamely. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Please,” Martin said with a little laugh, blushing as he also broke eye contact, trying to brush the chickens off of himself. “I’m starving, I haven't eaten breakfast yet.”

There was that little spread of warmth again, confirmation that he had left in a hurry, and he could feel his own face burning. He looked down at the ground in the hopes that Martin couldn’t see, even as he passed him his tea. Because of this, he was several steps into his home before he looked up. When he did, his own tea slipped from his hand, shattering on the ground where it landed. 

There, painted on the wall, was a stylized sickly green eye. And another, on the window, another on the door to his bedroom, and more scattered around the room. They were everywhere. 

He stumbled back, into Martin, who put a hand on his back to steady him. He knew it was Martin, would recognize his gentle touch and his warm hands, but he still had to stifle the horrible sound that wanted to claw its way up his throat. His entire body was a coiled spring, waiting for what had to be coming, because this was a promise from Elias that he was coming, as if that had ever been in doubt. 

“What the hell?” Martin muttered behind him, looking around. 

Something snapped in John. He had been living with terror for so long, he just couldn’t take it any longer, the indignation and rage taking hold. he held onto all the hatred he could muster and practically threw his desk, knocking it to the ground before attacking the next mark with his bear hands, as if he could rip and tear at the eyes, when all that was needed was to wipe it away. 

Martin stared at him for a moment. He had never seen him like this, but John didn’t have the presence of mind to be self conscious. Martin seemed to come to a decision, though, because after a moment he pulled off his own jacket and started scrubbing away the eyes. John didn’t care how it gone done, so long as they were gone, so long as it left the bastard blind here. 

When he had finished, John knew he had to be trembling all over as he stumbled back heavily against the wall, fist clenched in his hair as he tried to ground himself and clamping a hand over his mouth. He was breathing hard, the rage replaced with a hollow terror, wishing Elias’ taunting didn’t affect him like this. 

His chest burned with the grief brought by the certainty that this part of his life was coming to an end. He would never be truly safe, he’d taken a few beatings over the years to prove as much, but he had felt safer here than he ever had since entering this world of magic, but he was finally going to lose it, and the nightmare he had suffered under Elias would start again. 

The room was a wreck. He’d knocked things off surfaces and the only reason the furniture was still more or less intact was due to his own lack of strength. He didn’t care. He didn’t even care about the broken glass as he slid to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chest as if that might protect him from the world. And he couldn’t stop shaking. 

“I think we got them all,” Martin said. 

He had done a valiant job trying to minimize John’s destruction, and now he used his stained jacket to brush the glass and the worst of the debris out of the way into a pile before kneeling beside John. 

John wanted to say something. He wanted to thank him, or apologize, anything, but if he opened his mouth, he was afraid of what might come out. He might never stop crying. Or screaming. He could see the concern and alarm in Martin’s eyes as he studied him, looking for any signs of injury maybe. He hesitated to reach out to him, but John simply grabbed him, pulling him close.

He didn’t think he made any noise, no sobs escaped him even as the tears began to spill and Martin practically pulled him into his lap, wrapping him in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of his head as John buried his face in his shoulder and he shuddered, hoping against everything that it might not be the last time. 

He didn’t want to lose this. He didn’t want to lose Martin. He didn’t think he had any fight left in him, but he would fight for this. He would fight for him. He would fight to protect the only person who had ever made him feel this way, so safe and cared for despite what he knew the world was capable of. Despite what the world had done to him. To them both. 

It was a long time until he felt composed again. He was too exhausted to feel self conscious about being held like this by Martin, but he knew he would be later. He just very carefully untangled himself and wiped his face on his sleeve, keeping his eyes on the ground. 

“What can I do?” Martin asked. “What do you need?”

“I need you to stay away,” John said, even though he knew it was pointless. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Martin said with a mirthless laugh. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

John nodded numbly and took his hand. “Are you sure? This might be your last chance.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Martin snapped, like he was angry John would even suggest it. 

“Can you—“ John began, finding words difficult. “Can you check the attic?” 

He didn't think he could stomach seeing anymore eyes, but he hated the idea of leaving any that Elias might be able to see through. He also wasn’t entirely sure his legs were strong enough to make it up the ladder. 

Martin hesitated for a moment, reluctant to leave his side, but nodded after a moment. He pulled open the door in the ceiling before climbing up, looking around as he did so. 

“Wait,” Martin exclaimed and while John couldn’t see his face, he flinched at the tone, terrified it meant he’d found something else. Something worse. “There’s nothing up here!”

“What?” John stopped wringing his hands and looked up in alarm. “It’s all gone?”

“No, I mean,“ Martin climbed back down and returned to his side as John clambered to his feet. “There's storage up there, sure, but I thought that was your bedroom.”

”Why would you think it was my bedroom?” John asked, bewilderment at least momentarily distracting him from the horror of the situation. 

“I mean, I know you had trouble sleeping and stayed by the fire sometimes, but I’ve seen you come down in the mornings, I just thought—“

“Sometimes I go up to work,” John said. “But that’s always my bedroom.” He pointed to the only bedroom the house had. 

“What?” Martin demanded, crossing his arms. “Are you seriously telling me that I have been staying in your room the entire time? And you’ve just been, what, sleeping on the couch?” 

“Yes?” John said in complete bafflement. 

 “Oh my god, John!” Martin threw his arms in the air. 

“This really isn’t the point right now, Martin,” John said, also gesticulating wildly as he spoke. “If we could get back on task, please?”

“No,” Martin said. “There’s no more eyes, you aren’t getting out of this so easily.”

“I hardly think that should be your priority right now!” 

“You’re going to sleep in your own bed tonight,” Martin said, crossing his arms with finality. 

“Fine, whatever,” John said, and it was only then that he realized there was a chance he was only so caught on this because it was a distraction for them both. And somehow it had worked. 

John felt a little more stable as he went around to check his defenses, Martin very patiently following around and helping where he could. He still doubted it could actually do anything to stop Elias, but he needed to do something with his nervous energy and maybe it could still provide a warning, alerting him of his approach. 

By the end, he was exhausted and in pain and Martin had to take his arm to help him make it to his bed. He crawled in, letting his cane fall as he did. Looking back, he saw Martin picking the cane up and settling it next to the nightstand where he usually kept it and John knew he would appreciate that come morning. For now, though, he reached out and took Martin’s arm, tugging him gently forward. 

Martin let out a questioning noise, but followed the pull until he was climbing into the bed beside him. Wordlessly, John pulled the blanket up over them both and curled close, draping an arm across Martin’s side. It was true he didn’t want to be alone right now, he wanted the comfort Martin provided. But more than anything, he didn’t know how much time he would have with Martin and he didn’t want to waste a second of it. He just wanted to be with him. 

Martin was looking at him as if he was worth looking at. As if he was worth something, anything, everything. He kept doing that and it sent a thrill through him every time. He shivered when he felt Martin caress his cheek, and only then did he let himself cry. He didn’t want to lose this. He didn’t want to lose Martin. He didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and be back there, isolated from everyone and everything, used to strengthen Elias’ power, to kill so many more people. 

If he could stay in this moment forever, he would. But he knew it would have to end eventually. And then he’d have to get up and face another day no matter how overwhelming, no matter how terrifying. He’d cry himself to sleep eventually, and then he’ll probably feel ridiculous for it. But for now, he just let Martin hold him, trying to memorize the feel of his arms around him, in case he never felt them again. 

[the-kr8tor]

YESS I LOVED IT TIANA'S MY FAVOURITE DISNEY PRINCESS. Daily Hobie HC! HEAVILY inspired by the female vocals of the song 'Friends on the other side'. Hobie knew he wasn't the only 'Shadow Man'/talker ever since he heard your name fall from someone's lips on the streets. You hadn't heard of him, but he's definitely heard of you more than he's intended to, and Hobie's interest is peaked. He wonders if he could possibly strike up a deal with you, not sure what to entirely expect as he stepped into your shop, admiring the hazy green and purple glow. And there you were, in all your glory, your gaze following a newcomer's body as he stepped through the haze, your dominant hand shuffling cards almost expectantly. Hobie couldn't help but put on a charming smile for you, his lanky fingers tapping against his cane as he addresses you smoothly by name. He felt as if it was a small win as he watched your eyebrow raise, followed by a smirk. Hobie sat himself in the seat across from yours, a clothed table in between the two of you as he introduced himself as the Shadow Man. As he started to slow-talk you, he found his smirk widening as you smoothly cut him off, your velvety voice pointing out how he clearly wasn't here for simple small talk. His eyes glittered in the haze of light, watching your every move like you were watching his. The entire time, you had been absent-mindedly shuffling the cards, which seemed to slow as he proposed a deal between the two of you. You slowly spread out the cards, before scooping them all into a deck situated in the middle of the table. Prompting him to go on, Hobie suggested that you two unite in business to have the most power. Hobie could sense you were interested, but clearly you were smarter than he had initially thought, seeming to be on his level of customer-charm. (The entire conversation went like 'The Other Side' from The Greatest Showman) Eventually, you two settled on an agreement of equal share. For once, this handshake had nothing tied to it. No restricting fumes, no voodoo witchcraft, nothing. Or else the entire store might've erupted in flames due to battling for control over the deal. However, there was one thing that Hobie wanted. Your heart. Whenever the two of you met, which was more often than you both realize, Hobie always made a good impression of himself with a kiss to the back of your hand. He also always left untainted flowers for you, smirking internally when he notices them in a vase settled on a shelf off to the side, seeing how the flowers he gives you still thrive in your touch. One time, while both you and Hobie were enjoying some casual banter with each other, with Hobie managing to nick some beignets for the two of you. Taking a bite, with the powdered sugar sticking to your top lip, Hobie saw his as a perfect opportunity to pounce. He leant over slightly, pecking the powdered sugar off your lips, almost chuckling as he observed you being caught off-guard. Taking another bite of the sweet treat, quickly licking over your lips and trying not to focus on the fact you could faintly taste him on your lips, you joke about the original deal you both made, trying to keep the surprise and small flustered-ness out of your voice. Although you both haven't explicitly stated anything of that sort, it has become obvious that Hobie had managed to make you his, and he, yours. -🐦‍⬛

YAYY!!

Daily Hobie HC!!

Yeesss more dr. Facilier au!!!

Hobie strolling over to R's shop thinking that he can out charm them like the rest and then leaving with the biggest grin possible absolutely smitten beyond repair 🥰

Damnnn R is such a badass!! Didn't even fluster whenever Hobie would flirt back with a bunch of beautiful bouquets (not me tho I'll melt right there and then)

You had me at beignets now i can't stop thinking abt it even though i haven't tried it. Yet!

Using your finger to wipe the powdered sugar? NOPE! A kiss will do!!!! R is so much tougher than I am lmaooo I feel like my heart would stop after that 😂

[pascaloverx]

Invisible Bonds: The Power of Destiny

Author's Note: This fanfic contains possible strong language and explores themes of unconventional love. The relationship between the protagonists will be handled with sensitivity, without explicit scenes.

chapter four chapter six

Chapter Five

You and Jungkook have been in his car for about thirty minutes. You're afraid, you don't know how this meeting between friends will go, considering that you and Jungkook are soulmates. He's so calm, driving the car with one hand and holding your hand with the other. Bonding makes us more likely to hold on to each other, so the feeling of holding Jungkook's hand now is the same to cover yourself with a warm blanket in winter. You're happy to be with him even though you weren't confident. Your friends don't know about your crush on Taehyung or how you wanting to grab Jungkook because of the of your connection. For a moment, your nervousness about the situation surpasses the sensations, and Jungkook seems to sense it.

"You know our friends already know me, right?" Jungkook says patiently as he drives.

You sigh – how will you explain that your nervousness goes beyond our friends, as you're emotionally confused, and this will be the first time you're acknowledging your soulmate – without sounding like you're scared.

"It's not that... they know us individually. Not as soulmates, and I never really thought you'd show up, so I kind of gave the impression that I'd never be with someone who has a full understanding of everything going on with me." You speak so quickly that you're surprised Jungkook managed to keep up with your train of thought.

"I don't have that much understanding yet. I haven't figured out how much you liked Taehyung before all this happened, don't even know if I should be concerned." Jungkook says, and you look at him. You want to meet his eyes, see if this makes him uncomfortable. You stare at him.

"It's been a while since I've been attracted to Taehyung, and that's all I'll say on the matter. He's marrying his soulmate, and I have you." You speak as if it's that simple, trying to deceive your own heart.

"Am I your consolation prize, then? If you can't have him, I'll do?" Jungkook speaks seriously, and you become concerned that you may have hurt him.

"It's not like that. You're my destiny, and I'm just saying I won't run away from my destiny. You're not a second choice." Jungkook parks the car in front of Hoseok's house, and it seems like all his good humor has vanished.

"Don't try to fool me; I know I'm currently one of the reasons for your unhappiness." Jungkook says as he lets go of your hand. It causes an inexplicable ache in your heart. You decide to unbuckle your seatbelt and climb onto Jungkook's lap.

"You have unrestricted access to my feelings, you know better than anyone that I'm not unhappy. I want to explore this soul connection with you. So, no..." You say all this while holding Jungkook's face between your hands. Without self-control, he unbuckles his own seatbelt and pulls you closer, holding onto your waist. You look at him, wanting him to know that you enjoy being close to him. So, you gently bring your lips closer to his.

"You don't want to give me the impression that every argument we have is going to end with you on top of me." Jungkook says in an amused tone and then kisses you as if he wants to sink into you. You, again, kiss him lightly because you know very well what this could lead you to.

"Jungkook stop being so naughty, can't you see I'm trying to create a romantic atmosphere?" You say, lightly hitting Jungkook's arm. He smiles, looking happy. He looks so happy that you feel a great comfort inside your heart.

"Better than looking at you is seeing the first snow together as a couple." Jungkook says, a warm smile on his face.

"How do you know it's going to snow?" You ask, setting aside the fact that he referred to you two as a couple.

"If you look outside now you'll notice it's snowing." Jungkook says pointing to the window. It really is snowing, I bet the purpose of this gathering of friends is to watch this moment with them but now I just want to stay here, with him.

"Do you want to go back to your place and cuddle?" Jungkook asks, gently brushing his nose against yours. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling extremely tempted to accept his proposition.

"As romantic as that sounds, our first impression as a couple can't be lovebirds who can't be apart. Plus, you got a great pie for us to share with everyone." You say, kissing the corner of Jungkook's mouth, feeling less and less inclined to leave his lap.

He ends up agreeing with you, and you open the car door. At that moment, the least expected thing happens. Taehyung is passing right by Jungkook's car and seems surprised to see you. I mean, he's seeing you on someone's lap for the first time.

"It's not what you're thinking..." You say, trying to get out of Jungkook's lap, who, by the way, is enjoying watching you struggle to get back to the passenger seat and finally leave the car.

"I highly doubt you know what I'm thinking, Y/N." Taehyung says with a dry tone. His expression is very serious, which catches you off guard.

"If you weren't committed, I'd think you got jealous, Taehyung." Jungkook says as he gets out of the car after grabbing the pie from the back seat. You lean against the front of the car, observing Taehyung and Jungkook.

"I was just taken by surprise. Until a few hours ago, you two struggled to accept all this, and now you're cuddling in the parking lot." Taehyung comments. This comment has a hint of indignation, or even repressed anger.

"I'm sure you've experienced that feeling before, especially since Haewon and you used to be inseparable. But we promise to behave." Jungkook adds, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jungkook passes one of his hands around my waist and you with your eyes half closed look at him.

"I'm glad you guys are getting along. It just doesn't seem like you..." Taehyung says, definitely disappointed — you can't quite understand; what could be the reason for him to act this way?

"Just like you turned into a new person when you met Haewon. I guess it's part of the soulmate package." You point out the hypocrisy that is, precisely Taehyung telling you this.

"Do you guys want a moment alone?" Jungkook asks, you don’t know whether to be mocking or genuinely.

"I think this is not the right time to judge those who behave differently while they are romantically involved with another person." You say trying to end the conversation.

"Let's head to our friend gathering then, and maybe we can talk about this later, Y/N." Taehyung suggests. Not quite sure how to respond, you nod and take the pie from Jungkook's hand. He kisses your cheek and holds your free hand. Taehyung watches silently, and the three of you make your way to Hoseok's apartment.

[thecactifindahome]

Tbh, I kind of can imagine that? Maybe bevause I watched the show first and shortly after finishing it I went to the books... But I get what you're saying and I'm ready for him to fight back and even snap if he wants to. Have you reas New Tales of the Vampires and Mayfair Witches too? Do you like them? I've decided to read all of them at least once, just to understand more of this universe as a whole and then re-read the ones that are relevant to the show and/or I enjoyed the most. I finished Pandora yesterday and now I'm around 80 pages into Blood and Gold. I loved the former, B&G is too early to tell, but I admit Marius is not my favorite, so who knows... But I'm excited to see Pandora and Bianca again, including any appearance of Armand, even if it's brief. I struggled with Memnoch, but the chapter he was in was 100% chef's kiss 0 notes from me. 😍 Anyway, why do you feel that way about Rolin? Has he said anything frustrating? I haven't seen many interviews yet, and the few I have, it's mostly with the actors. I see people's interpretations of his interviews on the tag all the time, but I've seen so much distortion and stuff taken out of context on other fandoms before that I want to fact-check first. And I will eventually, it's just that right now I'm prioritizing the books because I'm sick of seeing different opinions all the time and not being able to join book discourse. 😅 But I believe it would be creative suicide to waste the potential of such compelling characters, specially someone as rich in terms of baggage and development as Armand. His arc is so eventful and touching that he could have his own show with 10 seasons and 200 episodes tbh. And don't worry about Tumblr being weird and the late reply, I just enjoy chatting, whenever that happens. I can take long to reply too, so I get it. For me getting a proper answer is better than a fast one. It's all good. 💗

I'm going to be wailing and tearing my hair if we don't see him having fun while committing some terrible harm next season 🥺 Getting ready to hunt Malik isn't enough, I need him to tear somebody's scalp off for no real reason except that he likes their hair.

I've read Pandora and Vittorio, although I have to admit Vittorio left no impression on me whatsoever and I couldn't tell you anything about it except that there were no returning characters in it, lol. But Pandora is great! It's kind of revelatory to see who she was before the catatonic despair, she's so fiery and alive, and funny and rude. The only downside is that it makes seeing her so dead inside later on sad ): I read The Witching Hour a thousand years ago, too, but it didn't really grab me. I didn't dislike it as such, I just didn't click with it. It might have just been bias due to hating the witch/vampire crossovers so much, though ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Blood and Gold is compelling to me, even if there are some things that make me grind my teeth pretty hard (Bianca got such a raw fucking deal, and oh my god the theater era, I'll basically accept not trying to get him out of the cult due to fear/shame/Akasha but there’s no reason not to send him a letter like 'Hey Amadeo, I'm alive, glad you made it out'). But he's got a lot of depth to his character, and he makes it pretty clear that he knows why he keeps ending up alone. And as a Roman history enjoyer*, Marius' idealization of Rome is exactly what you'd expect from an Augustan era wannabe-patrician (his half-Gaulish ass was definitionally a plebeian). Is it distasteful to the modern reader? Absolutely! But that was a highly typical perspective then.

Rolin Jones, well, I'll say two things: his fixation on everything having to serve loustat is starting to warp the basic sense and structure of the show, and reading the s2e8 script made me realize that he does too much cocaine. I don't think he has a clear vision of the show beyond romance and badass moments, I think the other writers are the ones trying to do something more. And like...how many times does he have to say that Daniel’s turning was spiteful and will never be shown before people believe him? Why would he keep downplaying and trying to manage expectations for D/M, a highly popular and acclaimed aspect of the books, if he actually intends to spend much time on it? Why would he try to unhype his own show? I'm at work so it's hard to dredge up citations, but his choices themselves are indicative imo.

Oh, I know what you mean, some people are incredibly dishonest, or maybe just delusional, about the book content. Or maybe I'm being ungenerous and they make these grand declarations because they sincerely don't understand what they just read, who knows? But people will tell you nonsense like that Lestat never loved Armand, which is simply a stupid thing to say, because they're pathologically insecure about their otp and try to establish themself as such an authority that nobody feels the need to see for themselves. Mad respect to you for going to the books 😊

*Not that kind of Roman history enjoyer, of course, it was a dumpster fire that is a far better cautionary tale than anything to admire and only a lunatic would try to emulate ancient Rome. But god damn, it's fascinating.

[incognitajones]

Fic author interview

Thanks to @sesamestreep and @glorious-spoon for tagging me in this one over the holidays! But between starting the new job and the holidays and the RCSS, it totally slipped my mind until now 😬

No-pressure tagging: @anghraine, @ladytharen, @luciechat, and anyone else who feels like it.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

An even 200 if I include both accounts.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Just under 650K words altogether.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Last Train 

I fought the war (but the war won) 

left-handed kisses 

Fixer Upper 

Chain Reaction 

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I want to let commenters know they're appreciated, and I enjoy talking about little details or plot turns. Lately I haven't had the time or energy for much more than a quick thank you, but I'm still trying to respond.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

At one point it would've been the bad ending of I fought the war, but now I think this Whumptober piece takes the crown.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Considering canon, most of them have an unrealistically happy ending! Especially inside the vastness of the galaxy, the "Naomi & Filip get a happy reunion" story.

7. Do you write crossovers?

No. I enjoy writing & reading some fusions (i.e. characters from one canon in the setting of another) but traditional crossovers in which characters from two different canons meet don't generally appeal to me.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not on AO3, but I've been sent anon hate on Tumblr about my writing a couple of times (find a Reylo writer who hasn't challenge).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yeah, a fair bit - in fact it's hard to remember sometimes that I never wrote anything explicit before 2016! It's all pretty vanilla, though, minus a few attempts at kinkier stuff which are deservedly anonymous.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Kind of; someone commented on one of my stories on AO3 to tell me that another story had copied significant parts of it. (They'd already commented on and reported the other fic, so I didn't take any additional action. The plagiarizing story was eventually deleted.)

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Bless the fandom translators, for they are amazing.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nothing posted publically.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I couldn't possibly choose a single favourite! In terms of longevity, it's either Han/Leia or Eowyn/Faramir. And Star Wars ships in general seem to have a strong hold on me 😁

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The OT3 whumpfic. It's nearly done, but it's far outside my usual wheelhouse so without a beta reader, I can't tell whether it's worth finishing or beyond help.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I write decent dialogue, and I'm genuinely proud of the ideas behind I fought the war and pulse to pulse. I can also write a pretty good pastiche of 19C style, although you wouldn't know it from this account.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting. Falling back on boring/clichéd beats to flesh out dialogue-heavy scenes.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

A sentence or so? Sure. Can't think of a reason to do much more than that.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

It would be either Buffy or Lord of the Rings - I honestly don't remember - not counting the terrible Shannara-fic I wrote as a pre-teen.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Someday I'd really like to write a Children of Men story telling what happened to Kee and [spoiler] after the movie, plus fixing [spoiler].

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Subject to change by the moment, of course, but looking back at some older stories recently reminded me that I've always been pretty fond of don't go home without me.

[acourtofthought]

You Can Never Have Too Many Posts on That Bonus Chapter

“Are you out of your mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you, including her mate.”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“What of Mor, Az”

Azriel ignored the question.  “The Cauldron chose three sisters.  Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters yet the third was given to another?”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“You believe you deserve to be her mate?”

“I think Lucien will never be good enough for her and she has no interest in her anyway.”

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

“So you’ll what?  Seduce her away from him?”

Azriel said nothing.  He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.”

Seriously, did Azriel give Rhys a single direct answer to ANY of the questions he asked?  This was his formula:

Feign ignorance.

Answer his question with a different question.

Ignore the question. 

Deflect the question with a different statement.

Ignore the question.

It’s like talking a parent trying to talk to a angry 15 year old boy caught doing something wrong.  This conversation is so extremely concerning yet there are still those who claim that it’s romantic.  

Also, Az knows he doesn’t have a mating bond with Elain and that she has one with Lucien.  That’s not something that he can change and honestly the fact that he’s wasting time wishing it would change means he’s saying, “I may have feelings for Elain but those feelings are not enough on their own because I still wish she were my mate”.  It would be like my saying, “I have feelings for this guy but I’m a little upset that he’s not a doctor because my sisters are both married to doctors”.  😬  It sort of cheapens the romance there, doesn’t it?

Elain and Az haven't even discussed a relationship together yet Az is already wishing for more than she will ever be able to give him by asking "what if the Cauldron was wrong". Chances are the Cauldron wasn't wrong so now what Az? The Cauldron was right, Elain and Lucien are in fact mates, so what's your next step? (pretty sure he hasn't gotten that far with his planning). The only thing he's concerned about is that he wasn't given a bond and that's as far as his thoughts have gone.

Say Elain suddenly becomes Azriel's Mate, doesn't it seem like rewarding a child for bad behavior? "Here Az, you weren't happy to love Elain as an individual despite her having a bond with someone else since the bond was the only thing you could focus on so I'll be sure to give in to your pouting and tantrums by making her your Mate instead!

I’m not faulting Az for wanting a Mate.  When a matched bond is a sacred thing, who wouldn’t want that?  But he knows Elain is not his mate and cannot be his Mate since the ACOTAR characters haven't spoken of the possibility of two bonds. Yet he is still fixated on it. He and Elain are not together, they’re not dating, he literally tells us he’s been avoiding her so they haven’t spent any real time with one another, they haven’t confessed anything other than the obvious clue that they shared a physical attraction, he hasn’t asked Elain to have a discussion with Lucien about her bond with him so Az and Elain can go public with their relationship after going about it the right way, and a BOND is the thing Azriel is fixated on. It makes his intentions completely insincere and his emotions for her extremely shallow.  There are a million other things that should be addressed first, other steps to focus on in order for them to be together (since as far as he knows, he can't change the Cauldron) yet Azriel has not given those things any thought beyond his sexual fantasies that exist in the dead of night.

His thought process should have been:

I think I might like Elain.

If we had a bond together, this would be easier.

But we don't, so what can we do to try and be together anyway?

I need to first talk to Elain and see if she's willing to reject her bond with Lucien.

She needs to then talk to Lucien.

She and I are then free to love one another out in the open and share that love with our friends and family.

What number is Az stuck on again? That's right, number 2. And none of the above even accounts for the fact that he's not completely over Mor. For arguments sake I've taken her out of the equation, yet Az still is not focused on the right things if he had the feelings for Elain that E/riels claim he has.

[shyvioletcat]

Can I send multiple?? I’m nosy. 👀

✏️ The first fanfiction you ever wrote? (doesn't have to be a posted fic)

🌾 A fic you really want to write but you haven't (yet)?

🪜 Tell us a random fact about any fic!

🎨 Show us a sneak peek from a WIP! (if fish are friends is a possibility, I’d happily die but will absolutely be grateful for a sneak peek from any of your works!!)

Multiple are much appreciated and encouraged around here.

✏️ : it’s not posted and it’s possibly lost on my iPad that suddenly died. But all I’ll say is that it was entirely my guilty pleasure and it The Lord of the Rings based.

🌾: ooo, okay. I have a Jane Austen’s Emma au that exists in my brain and some scattered notes. Aelin is Emma, and Rowan is obviously Mr Knightly. Then Elide is Harriet and Lorcan Mr Martin and it just goes from there. Emma is not my all time favourite Austen work but it does hold a very special spot in my heart and the whole “she doesn’t love me” “wait now I love him!” is just too perfect for Rowaelin.

🪜: originally, in Set Up Rowan was going to do a big grand gesture of chasing Aelin down at the airport and then the whole love declaration thing, and then I was unsure if she would stay or just get on the plane. As you can see those plans have changed, and to something I think is infinitely better in my opinion. Also, the fic wasn’t meant to be a smutty, at all. I think that change was made for the better, don’t you? 😂

🎨 : I whipped this one up especially for you:

“This guy is loaded.”

Aelin snorted at her friend's awed exclamation as she eased off on the accelerator coming up the long, paved driveway. The house wasn’t obnoxiously large, but it was well beyond decent with a pretty facade and well kept gardens. And if the price he had offered initially was anything to go by, yes Rowan did have money to burn.

She had waited until she got home to text him back and to say yes to the offer of Ivy’s birthday party, claiming that now she had turned back into a mermaid she could talk mermaid business. The girl was so enamoured with the whole mermaid performance how could Aelin even think of saying no. Rowan had immediately come back with a price just under what her gig at the aquarium paid in a fortnight, she knocked it back, then there was a mildly heated discussion over what the price should be. Rowan was generous, and Aelin helped equate the cost by saying she needed to bring a friend along to help her with her costume so they could split it. That had been fine, of course, and why Lysandra was sitting in the passenger seat.

The car had stopped and Lysandra was still peering out the windows trying to get a better look. “His wife, slash girlfriend, slash whatever must be living the life.”

“He’s divorced,” Aelin said, pushing the gear stick into park.

“That’s awfully weird to find out in a conversation that went for two minutes,” Lysandra added.

Aelin shrugged as she undid her seatbelt. “Well his daughter did demand he kiss me.”

Lysandra paused from where she was checking over her make-up in the sun shield mirror, head turning sharply. “She what?”

Thanks for asking 💜

[braemjeorn]

Okay, Despa's girl just AWESOMENESS ( i would like to read MOORE of your Despa/his lady headcannons, really!!!! I love both of them on your writing), but..what about Ouken/Desha partner? Like " some JuSt SmarTTy, prrretty and nUTs wOoman"? Or the tiny murmuring girl, or cold-metallic godness???? What do yu think?)

anonie, have you any idea what dam ur cracking open😀

if i have to describe the pairs in a phrase it'd be:

desha and honi are the steady parents:

i have this fic and these two posts abt them but i don't think this fic is a presentable work to offer the fandom - it lacks so much, methinks. the fic is the story of how they met maybe sometime in the future after desha's curse is lifted and all. but in essence honi almost doesn't care abt the fact desha's a king of like this great kingdom — her subconscious went, he could use a friendly, normal laugh and she just went with a mild quip and after he didn't zap her into ashes, went to befriend him with snarks and teasing.

desha thought she's one disastrous woman - considering she fell down meifu. but she holds good conversations despite that - she's a comfortable company to joke around and talk about nonsensical things like normal friends - if we ignore the increasing pitter-pat of the hearts over time. ["WHY are you proposing to me, i thought you didn't like me back that much!? ...YOU DO!?" "i do love you, you lively spirited thing."] they have some self-esteem issues and mutual acknowledgement to work out on but it was despa who persuaded desha to just make an offer: its not like there's going to be any other woman approaching you and its not like you want any other. surprisingly despa hot away without being zapped for those words and stood as best man for the wedding.

i say they're the parents because i like to imagine they settle quite well in their marriage, with desha's reservations and honi's domestic investment (considering how dramatic despa and teru got around theirs and how giddy and rosy ouken's love story is). they'd nag(desha) and croon(honi) over the younger brothers, and when the heirs were born they'd sit there on the couch in the evenings, his arms behind her back and her head leaning back on him as they watch their kids play while despa teased ouken. they'd have soft murmured conversations - she'd hold his huge hands, and play with the singular ring there, quite content with the momentary wrap on adventures in exchange for domestic bliss.

despa and teru is water and oil:

well, that's what my aunt, the queen says, their only daughter said. they don't necessarily blend but they make good broth, dont you think?

i haven't more to say about their story beyond that moodboard post, yet. honi caught them snogging among despa's shelves like a year before they asked the king permission to wed - who had his reservations (may have taunted despa) but the two were quite adamant (furiosly blushing as they are advancing their pragmatic basis for marriage - the crown's increased income for married royals and maintaining friendship, duh). it was a relationship where they temper each other but the sparks remained to fuel the marriage for decades. occasionally, they have these ten second moments as a pause in between arguments where they look at each other, either contemplating whether to claw the other like cats or kiss furiously—their daughter noticed these stares the older she gets so she'd slip between them and hook each of their elbows to prevent chaos errupting.

ouken and his lady is the vanilla sweet couple:

@potato-imouto made this perfect oc for ouken named paige and i just really like her. she's bookish and artistic, sweet and gentle and ouken is this, warlord, bloody fighter who'd find a slip to kill a god but has a big heart - the uwuness these two hold.

my headcanon is that he came up to the overworld for some diplomatic mission before his 25th year and they saw each other and mutually thought oh he/she's cute... they got along during the visit and exchanged a few letters until the curse fully overtook ouken. despa sent paige a letter explaining the predicament and she gave no reply in shock - it was rather descriptive.

it took him a few more years to see her again obviously, and he was like its fine if she's already married, i just want to wish her well evenifmyheartisgoingtorotandwither but then he heard from her brother that she's not married yet (adding with narrowed eyes: and i think its your fault.)

he found paige in her parlour and she's in a bit of a daze because oh dear gods, i thought i'd never see you again and she slowly smiled with a pretty blush and ouken's red to the tips of his ears. its so nice to see you again, prince ouken, she said and he gave out a weak likewise and that's how they ended up married a year latter. they're like kit and ella in a way, just kindred, kind souls in love with one another and makes such a sweet couple no one can really be against them. desha and honi were rather surprised and skeptical since the two look like they'd melt at any little kiss or touch from each other but then they got two niece and a nephew from the two and desha like they're fine, surprisingly. i can live out my life well now.

anyway, i like to think honi, teru and paige hollers, shrieks, bends-over-backwards over this shorts because of how plainly true it is.

[rafent]

[ dreamy ] sender and receiver indulge in a handful of slow, romantic kisses ahem. make it gay as hell buddy yeehaw

𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒

"Kissed? O-Of course I have."

Little louder than the guttering candlelight that illuminated Alfred's quarters, a troubled retort rose in defense of Rafal's pride. Close enough not only to train together, but also to share a bed, the topics that passed between the human and dragon admittedly spanned an endless number. Perhaps it was to be expected that they would eventually stumble upon this. Love. Touches. Kisses. Falling beneath the umbrella of over-friendly activities that one scarcely admitted, known only to two people and the furtive night that proved their sole witness.

Rafal in that regard had never once kissed anyone. Never once placed his trust in another being to such a degree that he left himself vulnerable. Nevertheless, he felt offended that his experience on the matter would even be questioned, and so rolled over to face his friend: "The length of my existence spans hundreds, even thousands, of years. It would be beyond foolish to expect that I haven't."

But the words sounded unconvincing even to his ears much less to another's. "If you do not believe me—" Determined to strengthen his lie, he raised himself onto his elbows above the other man, then lowered until the tips of his hair brushed ticklishly against fair cheeks. "—then let a taste of my skill change your mind."

Irritation. A desire to prove himself. Even faint curiosity toward the ideal. All those things pressed his lips to Alfred's with an impulse equivalent to his resolve. In truth, Rafal had not really planned for anything beyond that first step. Nor had he expected the number of dominoes that would fall quickly after the first.

He squeezed his eyes shut at an unexpectedly amorous initial pace, one that fell not to either prince's reins but to those of their inexperience. Slow and measured. Almost careful. Mouths rubbing together warm and dry for the first minute, a little wetter as time naturally progressed, then colder for it whenever they drew apart to breathe. An activity that demanded total concentration, leveling two hearts on the same plane of understanding no matter their differences- the discovery of kissing was found enriching in that way. He savored it. He wanted more.

Sucking in a breath, he pulled away from the royal, gauged the emptiness left behind- the pleasing sight of his bared throat- then kissed him again. And again. The texture of his mouth evoked used linen. Smooth yet made charming by the occasional imperfection, a scratchy patch of chapped skin here and there. Chasing that feeling, he had only intended for one kiss yet their tender exchange drew him into countless more, a lazy cycle that began at Alfred and ended at him too—

Startled, Rafal ripped himself away with a wide-eyed expression, discomfited by the black hole that had swallowed up his thoughts. "Make no mistake. I am not interested in humans, men, or otherwise. Actions speak louder than words, t-that is all." His voice wavered faintly as he turned on his side. More mortifying than the lapse in control with Prince Alfred was the fact that he had enjoyed it.