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reiding-writing · 10 months ago

Note

Congrats on 1000 followers! That's such a huge milestone! For the climacteric event, could you do a continuation of 'Takedown'? Maybe a role reversal, where cold!reader witnesses a badass moment from Spencer (whether his 'takedown' is physical or verbal is up to you) and gets flustered about it? I love your cold!reader series so much, it's such a great character dynamic with the rest of the cast!! Congrats again!

TAKEDOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part one/

Spencer might be a know-it-all, but at least he actually knows the things that he talks about.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, just some guy being really obnoxious and annoying, mild mansplaining

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.4k || event masterlist!!

a/n: we’re gonna ignore i uploaded this prematurely and just focus on the fic thanks 😭��

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

this is a continuation of my original ’takedown’ fic for cold!reader with a role reversal!

Spencer wouldn’t say that he liked to ‘show off’.

He knew he was smarter than most people, and his teammates knew he was smarter than most people, and that meant that when he displayed his intelligence to provide important details about a case, the team would take his word for it.

It saved a lot of time in explanations for where he got his information from and allowed for profiles to be built at twice the speed.

But sometimes asking someone to quote a source was necessary.

Case in point, a police detective from Indiana who just would not leave the BAU team alone as they tried to curate a profile for the serial killer they were hunting.

Some of his muses, most definitely flukes in knowledge, actually did have a productive outcome.

“A majority of stabbing cases have an underlying sexual motive, so I’ve taken the liberty of looking into the sex-offences registry for anyone who could be our killer,”

And some…

“Have we considered the possibility that our killer is actually killers, I mean if you look at the stab patterns across the victims, there’s a clear dominant and submissive personality no?”

…were the exact opposite.

“What you’re seeing is a progression of the unsub’s confidence,” Spencer shook his head slightly at the detectives attempt at an explanation. “The slashes are only jagged and uncertain in the two first victims, with all of the victims after that displaying much more confident wounds, which clearly shows the evolution of one individual, not multiple,”

He didn’t like having to shut other people’s trains of thought down, it was something that he’d gone through enough to not want to put anyone else through it, but when they were the complete opposite of productive, sometimes it was for the best.

It was remarkably easy to tell when somebody had read something on the internet rather than actually going through the training required to be competent in a certain specialty. Especially when it came to the forensic side of things.

Throwing in key words like dominant and submissive personalities didn’t mean that he knew what he was on about. It just meant that he’d read a few case articles on a certain subject and then passed that off as a rounded understanding of whatever concept he was trying to explain.

And it was really frustrating.

“What’s wrong with you today?” You enter the put aside meeting room with narrowed eyes, a cup of takeout coffee in your hand that serves as a relic of you being able to escape from the hellhole that Spencer was inherently trapped in.

“It’s nothing, i’m alright,” He presses his lips into that awkward smile of his, but it lacks any of the genuity that it’s usually accompanied by, merely a shell of a smile that Spencer knows you’re not buying.

A quirk of your eyebrow is the only push needed for his façade to break immediately.

“It’s just—” Spencer exhales heavily through his nose, biting the inside of his mouth in a will for him to keep himself together. “I’m just frustrated.”

You gesture with your head for him to continue, and it’s like you’ve blown a hole in a dam with how fast everything comes tumbling out.

“Officer Harrison keeps interrupting the investigation and talking about absolute nonsense under the guise of it being objective fact and I’ve spent so long correcting him that I haven’t actually managed to do anything,” He gets it all out in a single breath, and it’s honestly quite impressive to watch until he’s caught at the end with barely any air left in his lungs and has to take a moment to catch it up.

“I just wish he would leave me alone,”

You haven’t met Officer Harrison, too busy with the coroner and taking interviews, but if you had to make an educated guess you’d say Spencer’s apparent frustration was well founded.

He wasn’t one to exaggerate things.

“Tell him to then,” You shrug out your answer like it’s easy, leaning your lower back against the table to sip at your coffee.

“I’m not like you,” Spencer sighs exasperatedly, his shoulders in a slump alongside his mind. “I can’t just— scare people off,”

You give a small quirk of your eyebrow at his assessment of your personality, and Spencer can see the small traces of amusement in the corners of your mouth. “You have the authority Reid, you outrank him tenfold,”

“I know, I just—” Spencer shrugs, defeated. “I don’t know, I just can’t,” He uncaps his marker to return to the barren whiteboard to try and actually get some decent headway on the profile with a solemn expression, submitting himself to the inevitability of having to do two jobs at once.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Your offer sounds almost like an assassination proposal, monotonous and almost too serious.

“No,” Spencer shakes his head lightly. “No it’s alright, it’s not your problem, I’ll be okay,”

“You’e sure?”

“Yeah,” He gives you a small nod over his shoulder, lips pressed into a line as a grateful but dismissive smile. “Thanks anyway,”

You push yourself from the table with a sigh, joining Spencer at his side to pull the marker from his hand.

“Wh—“

“Go make yourself a coffee Reid.” You cap the marker with a knowing tilt of your head, putting it away in your back pocket so he can’t try and take it back from you. “You need to take five and calm down, you aren’t going to get anything done like this,”

You can see the want to turn your idea down, to say that he’s fine and not affected by the officer in his expression, but you both know it’s not something to be acted on, and so gives you a small nod with an exasperated exhale as he drags himself out of the meeting room to do as you’d asked.

He’s grateful for it really, the warm ceramic under his hands serving as a grounding point and sickly sweetness of the drink as it reaches his taste-buds a welcome distraction from the rampant frustration inhabiting his prefrontal cortex, but that small voice in the back of his head continues to torment him about the inevitability of having to deal with the officer again.

He knows he should at least try to let it go over his head. If he stepped back into the meeting room like he was you probably wouldn’t even let him get one foot in the door before sending him on a longer break, but he didn’t want a break, he wanted to work, to crack this profile open and actually make some real headway.

He just needed to take a second to breathe.

When he does return to the meeting room, you’re not alone anymore, and Spencer can practically feel the amount of will power you’re using to keep your mouth shut as Officer Harrison rambles on about something he’s not quite close enough to hear yet.

“…very unlikely for that to actually happen,” The officer points to a section of scrawl you’d added to the whiteboard after Spencer’s departure, something about brief episodes of mania as a possible reason behind the unsub’s violent attacks.

“That’s not actually true, it’s been disproved dozens of times over,” You shake off his attempt at over-explaining your own theory to you with a full tone and a shake of your head, a clear indication for him to leave you alone.

He doesn’t of course, and Spencer swears he sees your eye twitch as Officer Harrison continues to talk aimlessly.

“I’m just saying, there’s research to support the idea that serial killers make their crimes more gruesome than they need to post-mortem so they can plead insanity in court if they’re caught,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, and you quirk your eyebrow at his explanation.

“And where did you get that information from?”

“A doctorate thesis paper from Stanford,” Officer Harrison crosses his arms like he’s secured a victory over you in knowing something that an expert doesn’t. “You’ve probably never read it, it was an investigation into the differences between legal and clinical insanity, and it concluded that serial murderers over gruesomise their kills to plead legal insanity in court despite being completely sound of mind,” He points back at your scribbling with his index finger, knocking his knuckle against the board. “So this theory isn’t worth looking into sweetheart, trust me,”

The use of the placeholder ‘pet’ name makes your eyebrows furrow until there’s a prominent frown line between them. “I have read that paper, for your information,” You spin the whiteboard marker between the fingers of your left hand, likely a way to expel some of the tension in your muscles as you grow increasingly frustrated with the man.

“You don’t have to lie sweetheart, it’s alright, no one’s expecting you to have read an 85,000 word paper from almost a decade ago, I just like to educate myself in my free time,” He shrugs with a nonchalant expression, but there are traces of what’s almost condescendion in his tone and Spencer decides it’s time to stop this little debate before Officer Harrison ends up with a broken nose and you end up getting a very long talk from Hotch.

“She wrote it,” Spencer presses his lips into a tight line as he walks around the table to join you at the whiteboard.

“Excuse me?” The officer blinks at Spencer blankly, eyebrows knitting together in a mix of confusion and a slight amount of irritation at Spencer’s intrusion.

“The thesis paper you’re talking about? She was the one who wrote it,” He nods his head in your direction, and he can physically see the way the officer’s air of intellectual superiority drains from his face.

“And I’m not actually convinced that you’ve read the whole thing yourself, everything you mentioned was part of the paper’s abstract, which at an average reading speed of 238 words per minute, should have only taken you a minute and 24 seconds to read, rather than the 5 hours and 54 minutes to read the whole thing,” Spencer feels a little guilty for how good the drop in Officer Harrison’s face makes him feel, but it’s easily overrun by inherent relief at getting the frustration off his chest.

“Can you name anything important from that paper apart from what you just mentioned? Anything at all?” The frustration underlying Spencer’s tone was obvious, and it was almost gratifying for you to watch him take a stand in his own beliefs for once.

There’s a few moments where he pauses, giving Officer Harrison the very slim opportunity to redeem himself and prove he had actually read through the whole document.

Neither of you needed to watch him try and stumble through his answer to know that he didn’t.

“Maybe if you had read it you’d know that the ‘fact’ you just mentioned, was proportional to the percentage of serial murderers that weren’t diagnosed with any mental illness prior to their arrest, which was only 63% of the total sample that was analysed. 114 of the murderers were actually diagnosed with some form of clinical psychosis, which is still entirely probable for the unsub that we’re looking for,” There’s a lingering trace of snark dousing Spencer’s tone, joined by an elevated sense of conviction as he narrows his eyes towards Officer Harrison. “Or maybe you’d at least remember that it was actually 97,502 words long, not 85,000,”

The fact that Spencer recalled such specific details of your thesis shouldn’t be a shock to you, his eidetic memory was practically a staple of his character after all, but considering you weren’t even aware he’d read it in the first place until five minutes ago made that revelation hit you just a little harder than it probably should.

“If you want to act like an expert in something, become an expert in something,” Spencer crosses his arms and it may as well have been a done deal. “Don’t pass off surface level, incorrect information as objective fact, all you’re doing is slowing the real experts down,”

The assertiveness in his tone, whilst occasionally used when arguing his point for a specific topic, was much more present as he shut down the Officer, and it was almost a little too gratifying to watch the wind get knocked out of his sails at Spencer’s reprimand.

“Now if you’d please excuse us, we have a profile to work on,” He gestures to the whiteboard with his head, and Officer Harrison is off like a whippet, retreating out of the room with his tail between his legs and a traffic light red coating his face from the embarrassment.

You give a dragged out whistle as the door closes. “Congratulations on telling him to leave you alone,”

Spencer laughs almost pathetically. Was he really so socially inept that he had to be congratulated on standing up for himself?

“Thanks,” He presses his lips into that typical Spencer smile as he fiddles aimlessly with the button on the cuff of his right sleeve. “And uh, thanks for letting me handle it on my own,”

You shrug nonchalantly. “You asked me to,”

“I know, I just— thank you,”

“It’s nothing to thank me for Reid,” You shake your head dismissively, but Spencer knows you’ve accepted his thanks through the slight quirk in the corners of your mouth that break the ever-present scowl that cements itself on your face. “I didn’t know you read my thesis,”

Spencer blinks for a moment before giving you a small and enthusiastic nod. “Three times actually, it’s extremely well written from a logical perspective, and the transcripts from the interviews you held were very interesting,”

And there’s the Spencer you knew.

“You’re an incredible psychologist, it’s no wonder you skipped your bachelors,” He emphasises his words with exaggerated head movements that make the curls of his hair bounce against his forehead.

“Thank you, Reid, that’s very sweet,” There’s a fondness to your voice that you’d deny if he pointed out, but you’re trying much less to hide it from Spencer than you would from anyone else in your team.

Spencer Reid had read your thesis three times. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it better than you did. You’re almost certain he knew it better than you did. He could probably recite the whole thing word for word where chunks of it had already been forgotten in your mind.

It wasn’t exactly something revolutionary, but it may as well have been.

#cold!reader ᝰ.ᐟ #✎𓂃climacteric。#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

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covetyou · 9 months ago

Text

ghosted

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (satisfyer "glowing ghost"), unprotected P in V, creampie, oral (f receiving), reader loves floor time (so does Joel), angst (but we fix it), some anxiety/depression adjacent things. word count: 5751 summary: As spring moves into summer, the only thing you're wishing for is to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on. But, by the time the end of May is on the horizon, the time between still isn't enough - You haven't forgotten, and you haven't moved on.

A/N: thank you to everyone still sticking with this sporadic-installment-series-that-was-never-meant-to-be-a-series. our next visit to these two will be 4th July in stars and stripes, but until then, enjoy 💛

(and yes I know I am technically later than planned with this for non Americas folk - I couldn't get the ending to my liking until suddenly I could, and now its gone midnight. whoops!)

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, it was safe to say the opposite was true too.

You weren't having fun, and time was well and truly crawling by at a snails pace.

That wasn't for lack of trying. In recent weeks you'd spent more time out of the house than you ever had - lunch with friends, drinks with colleagues, solo trips to bookstores and farmers markets. There was barely a moment of time you hadn't filled with something.

It was probably a shitty coping mechanism, all things considered, but it was the best you had. You couldn't quite bring yourself to confide in anyone your secret shame of letting a stranger into your house and touch you like he belonged there. The even bigger shame of living in a place for so very long and not knowing how the door worked, not knowing the stranger was your neighbor, being so very consumed in your own life - woe is you - that you didn't bother paying attention to the lives of the people around you. So, you kept on willing the passage of time, and filling every moment you could with distractions.

It wasn't that you were usually one for wishing time away. A slow, warm spring before the blazing heat of summer consumed everything would usually be a good thing - even better now that you'd lived and experienced your first Texas summer and were soon to have your second.

What you were really wishing for was to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on.

As it was, by the time the end of May was on the horizon, the time between still wasn't enough. Almost two months to the day, and it still ached and burned in you just as much as it always had, if not more. The embarrassment and shame of not knowing how to work a fucking lock was one thing, the fear of the danger you'd put yourself in was another. Then there was the sadness, the loss, the unexpected emptiness at losing something you weren't even sure you had to begin with. And then, in more recent weeks, was the longing.

And you didn't want to feel any of it.

When Memorial Day Weekend eventually rolls around, the blossoming heat of summer keeping you indoors, you lie there on your living room floor, a fan blowing not quite cool enough air across your sweaty body until a knock at the door disturbs the patterns your eyes were tracing on the ceiling.

The dimness in your vision doesn't go away, even as you blink away the dust and try to get your eyes to adjust. The sun had set, apparently. It wasn't completely dark just yet, but dark enough to cast the lower level of your home in shadow, and you hadn't even noticed. You technically had plans today - plans that had now gone to shit, much like everything else.

Hauling yourself from the ground, you unlock your door, no thought or care of who could be on the other side of it, because one thing was certain - it wouldn't be Joel. You'd lost hope of that weeks ago. Each time you opened it with a fools hope in your mind, you were instead handed a delivery and told to have a good day as you stared out into the street, disappointed that it was only a clitty-blaster-3000, or a new blender, and not Joel.

You mindlessly pull open the door, expecting to be handed a package you hadn't ordered, or to even see a friendly face coming to pull you out for plans you agreed to but didn't really want to do.

But there he is. Two months later - but not too late, you don't think - and entirely out of the blue. Nervous hands are thrust into his pockets with his thumbs twitching on the outside of his jeans, standing there like he didn't belong here at all, when everything in your body was screaming he's home.

This was far from the first time you'd seen him since March. The first time was barely three days after you pushed him away. April Fools' Day, of all days. Fitting, you thought, given how much of a fucking fool you felt whenever you remembered everything you'd done, and said, and felt. It turns out he was the owner of the truck you'd seen parked in a drive a little way down the street, father to the little girl you'd seen bounding out of that house so many times before. Neither thing made the hurt in your chest any less, and you'd driven past with a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes.

The same happens now, but you fight them back so you can see more clearly as his mouth twitches into a small smile, making you freeze on the spot. Your mind was already blank, but that freezes too, and you stare at him dumbstruck for a moment so long you're certain a flicker of concern dances across his eyes.

And you could close the door in his face, push him out and away just like you did on that day over two months ago, but you don't. As you come back around, finally letting your brain reconnect with the rest of your body, the only thing you can feel is relief and total utter joy at getting to see him up close again.

There's still shame too. That's been simmering low and mellow in you for so long now that it's fused with your bones - you're not sure you'll ever shake it - but it's the least important thing right now as you stand and look at him, more awkward and uncertain than you've ever seen him.

"Hi."

You're surprised it's you who speaks first, given how dry your mouth is all of a sudden, seeing him up close again and looking as good as, if not better, than he ever has.

"Hey," he says, before clearing his throat. "S'good to see you."

It's a voice you didn't want to forget, but apparently damn near almost had, given the way your body reacts to it. Deep and rumbling, with the slow southern drawl trickling down your spine like honey and settling between your thighs - though in all honesty that might just be sweat. It really is hot in here, worse now that you're standing, and the fan is doing absolutely nothing to help. You look a mess too - your hair, your clothes, your life - but he doesn't seem to mind, and you're grateful, because right now this is as good as you've got.

"Wanted to see how you were doin'. Figured we should talk," he says with another soft smile.

Stepping aside, you give him a small nod as you silently invite him into your home for the first time. Which should be funny, given the unknown number of times he's been through this door, but you're not ready to laugh about any of it just yet.

When the door closes behind him, it's soft and gentle, barely audible over the fan blasting warm air at you, and you wonder if it's always like that. If he's always quiet as a mouse, and you always too oblivious to notice - between the two of you, you didn't stand a hope in hell in figuring it all out until it was too late and blew up in your face. Now, here you are, egg on your face, the heat in the room not helping the heat in your cheeks, trying desperately not to send him away when you've just invited him in.

It would be easier if it all still felt like a dream, but it didn't. That had changed.

Joel had never been much of a normal man in your mind. He was more of a fantasy come to life. A fantasy that was slowly building into something more and more real with each encounter. Even now, stood in normal shoes, wearing a normal t-shirt, and even more normal jeans - just Some Guy by anybodies standard - he looks as beautiful and fantastic as ever.

"Wanted to talk to you sooner. Wanted to leave it up to you given - y'know. Everythin'. Didn't want you to think I was just bargin' in all the time when it was convenient for me," he says, this very normal man already making you feel both silly and elated that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. Obviously you could have gone to him first. You just couldn't do it. You almost had so many times, but the twist of your key in the door would twist something in the pit of your stomach too, and you'd stop before you even made it out the house.

You knew why. It was always the same thing. You didn't want to talk - not ever. You just wanted things to be okay, or not, and go on with your life. It was one of those childish things you had your mom to thank for - she wasn't great at talking about the important thing either.

The difference now was Joel. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to work out everything with him rather than alone in your head. But prior to the door incident, that wasn't what this was and after - well, fuck - after, it seemed that it could have been like that all along but you were too damn late to do anything about it.

"Know you were angry with me - maybe still are - and I -"

"I wasn't angry with you," you blurt out, already aware of the lie the moment it leaves your lips. Joel is too, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "Okay. Yes. It pissed me off - you pissed me off. Happy?"

"No. Never wanted to piss you off, darlin'," he murmurs in return, and you can see that he means it by the way all of him softens, drooping in defeat at your admission.

"I... You embarrassed me, Joel. I feel embarrassed, okay? I feel like a stupid idiot, and I -"

You can already feel it all coming back. The swirling in your head, and the heat creeping up your chest and down your arms, not helped by this sweltering fucking house. It's like fainting, but instead of blacking out, a white hot rage is ready to ignite in you. And of everything, it's the thing you most never want to feel again. You'd take all the sadness, loss, emptiness, and longing of the last two months a million times over if it means you never have to feel this again.

" - and it makes me angry. And I hate feeling like that, like this, and I just couldn't come talk to you because I feel so stupid."

"Woah, darlin', c'mon now, we both know you ain't stupid."

"I don't know how to work a fucking door, Joel. Do you know how long people have had doors?"

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes before starting up again, hoping Joel will take the lead and talk for you first, but he doesn't.

"And I thought we were on the same page. That we were both doing the same silly thing, and it was okay that it was silly and fun, because we were both in on the joke. And... I liked seeing you. I liked it when you were here and it just - it just feels like it was a lie, and what I got out of it isn't what you got out of it. And that's okay, but it still feels stupid. I feel like an idiot, and an asshole, and knowing that you knew so much more about me than I knew about you, I just-"

"Do you want to?" he asks. "Do you wanna get to know me? Just gotta say, and it's done. I want you to know about me - I never meant to hide anythin' from you like that. And I don't want you to be mad, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed, cause the way I see it, we both got shit to be embarrassed about. I was breakin' into your house for months, thinkin' I was invited."

You wince a little, and he just smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders that what's done is done, nonchalance easing your anxiety for the first time ever rather than making it worse.

"I used to stand out there in front of your door and talk to your doorbell like you'd talk back to me any minute," Joel says with a laugh. "Course, now I get that you probably ain't got it hooked up. Never did hear the fuckin' thing ring."

Fuck. Right. Yeah, he's got you there. You'd bought it when you moved in, at your mom's insistence, and never got around to connecting it to anything. You figured it just being there would be deterrent enough and, other than visits from Joel, it had been.

He laughs again at your poorly masked grimace, and any other time you'd maybe be infuriated by him finding humor in something you'd been hurting over for weeks. It's not until you meet his eye and see the silliness in it all too - neither of you really did have any hope.

"Right? It's dumb. Not you, not me, it's just dumb. I even used to tell you when I'd be over next, let you know when to expect me. Leave out a key or put the door on the latch if it's okay for me to come by. I thought I was bein' invited in, but I was breakin' in. Shit. You're embarrassed, and I'm a criminal, I guess we're both losers."

Any anger you had is gone in a flash as laughter ripples through your belly and out your throat. In a way, it's all true. Joel was just as fucked as you, had just as much to be embarrassed and fearful about as you. Unknowingly leaving your home vulnerable to intruders is one thing, but being an accidental criminal for months is another.

"I liked it. I... I never knew when you were coming."

"Hey, if that's what gets your rocks off," he says with a wink, and you laugh again. "I ain't one to judge, but we can explore that in safer ways than keepin' a door unlocked day and night."

You both realize what he said the second the word left his lips.

We.

As in us.

As in together.

And you think he might take it back as quick as he said it, but he doesn't. He just looks at you, half fearful that he said the wrong thing, half hopeful that he said the right thing.

"Okay."

With one word he brightens, and you can feel it in you too. Whatever it is is mutual. Has been since the red velvet coat, since the wings, since the bunny ears, and all the spaces in between.

"Yeah? Cause I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."

"Well, that sounds like a terrible idea," you say bluntly, because honestly you cannot think of anything worse. Joel's slow steps towards you falter for a second as he tries not to let the disappointment in his face show, but you're already smiling. "You can pry Santa, Cupid, and Flopsy from my cold, dead hands."

And his laugh is glorious, cracking open the remnants of the walls you'd put around yourself and letting your bones soak in the warmth of him, just as his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. He smells so familiar - that's one thing you know about him. You might not know about his favorite color, or what he likes to eat, or even his daughters name just yet. But you know what he smells like, how his smile lights up his eyes, and how his hands feel on you, anchoring you in place even as you send yourself dizzy breathing him in.

He's going to kiss you too. You know that, and you welcome it, but before he can, you pull back.

"There's so much I want to know, I don't know how I missed so much."

"You get one question before I'm kissin' you."

You think for just a second before looking down to where your fingers curl into his shirt - an old Fleetwood Mac tee, so washed and worn it's like butter beneath your fingers.

With a wry smile, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, unable to hold back the laughter in your voice. "What are you dressed as today? Don't think I know this one, you're usually on theme."

"This? I'm just your plain ol' friendly neighborhood Joel Miller."

His lips are on yours then, pressing a soft kiss into the curve of your mouth, eyes searching yours for one, two, three seconds, before he dives back in, kissing you in earnest, making up for all the in betweens you'd been wishing away.

You wrap yourself around him, clinging to him, damn near wanting to climb up him, as you make out like teenagers in the middle of your living room. His hands wander across your shoulders, down your spine, grasping at any softness he can find along the way until his hands settle - one on your ass, and one gently cupping the back of your neck.

And as you kiss, holding each other close like you were long lost lovers and not whatever this thing between you was, you can't help but think that Joel Miller may just be your favorite Joel yet.

"Now, I got a question for you," he mumbles into your mouth, each word chased by your kisses. You've never wanted to seem desperate before, but right now you don't care, and by the way he's holding you, Joel doesn't mind either.

"Why the fuck do you have a nightlight?"

Shooting him an inquisitive look, you follow his gaze over your shoulder.

There on your counter, little light blinking away, is your very own clitty-blaster-3000, a luminous ghost with its mouth set in a permanent O, glowing brightly in the darkness. Shit. You'd brought it down this morning to charge, needing to keep a watchful eye on it and its janky magnetic charger to make sure it charged fully. You'd totally forgotten about it, and now here it was, glowing like a beacon after being out in the sun all day.

You try to pull away from Joel, but with his arms locked around your body, and his mouth pressing soft whiskered kisses to your neck, you don't have the strength, or the inclination, to move.

"It's not a nightlight, I can go put it away, if you just gimme-"

He tucks you behind him, swatting away your arms as you feebly try to reach around and grab it from him. Truthfully, you quite like the idea of him holding it, using it, but you feel bad that he might not know what it is.

"Not a nightlight, huh?" He says, grabbing the toy from the counter, said charger immediately popping off and clattering to the ground. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands, bringing it so close to his face it casts shadows across his features with its glow. "Oh, I know what this is."

"What is it then, smartass."

"Other than Pac-Man's worst nightmare? It's one of them clitty-blaster-3000 things."

Eyes wide, you double over, cackling and holding desperately onto yourself so you don't totally fall apart in front of him. He laughs with you, though maybe it's a little bit at you too, but you don't mind.

"What?!" he says smiling as he watches you fight to right yourself, gripping his forearm with laugh weakened fingers.

"That's what I call it!"

"Yeah? It good?"

His eyes are burning into yours. You know where this is going, and there's a brief thought that maybe you should stop it, slow things down. But you don't. Instead, you bite your lip and nod, making a noise of confirmation as Joel fiddles with the buttons on the toy.

A second later, it whirrs to life, a gentle throbbing buzz meeting your ears.

Joel puts his thumb over the hole, the suction gently hammering away at his finger tip as he clicks up and up through the intensity until he's well past a level you can use it at.

"Shit, yeah. Can see how that'd feel good."

"I, uhm, like to tease myself with it."

"Yeah?" he says as it clicks back down through the settings and rests on the softest one again. "Is that how you use it? Just to tease yourself?"

"No," you say, gasping a little when he raises the toy to your neck, pressing the mouth of the ghost to you as if pressing a kiss to your skin. "I - I just kinda stick it on there, to be honest. But I go slow with the - with the settings."

Joel clicks up one setting, the gentle thrumming at your neck intensifying a little.

"Yeah? You take your time? Give her what she deserves?"

You forgot what this was like - how easy and good it was to give in to wanting him, and how easy it was to let yourself have him too.

"Mhm."

"Good. Can't say I ain't jealous though. Missed comin' here. Seein' you. Thought about you, thought about comin' to see you but -"

"Thought about you too."

"When you were usin' this?"

You nod, tilting your head to the side and sighing as he glides the tip of the toy across your pulse point, behind your ear, down the column of your throat.

"Can I use it on you?"

You damn near want to tell him he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but the words are lost when you nod again and he captures your mouth in another kiss, brutal in its softness as he guides you back to your couch and all the plush cushions you have stacked there. Since Christmas, your home décor skills have definitely improved. Things look a little less bare, the place looks a little more lived in. There's still pictures to hang and empty spaces on shelves to fill, but you know those things will come in time. For now, you're grateful for the comfy place you've made on your sofa as Joel sits you down, guiding you down with strong hands.

Your shorts are quickly pulled off, the toy pulled from your neck so Joel can kiss his own better trail across your flesh. You hold him to you, anchor him into your bosom like he might drift off like a spectre in the night if you don't, but he's as latched to you as you are to him.

And then he's on his knees for you, jeans straining as his cock swells, hands gripping your thighs then pushing your shirt up, exposing you for him. Panties soon follow your shorts, yanked down your legs in a joint effort by your left hand and his right as he can't resist lapping at your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

He's everything you tried to forget, and some of the things you did. He's strong, and broad. He's gentle too, and soft - his eyes, mostly, but some other parts of him too. He's silly, and playful, smiling into your mouth and nipping at you, the hand by your thigh teasing the buzzing toy over the delicate skin there and delighting in your shudder.

As he moves it closer, the sounds of the suction against your skin making you both giggle, he moves down, burying his face into your neck and breathing in. You already know that it's never been like this before - that this is something new, just like every other time before had been something new.

"So you just stick it on, huh?"

"Lube. With lube."

His face is between your legs in an instant, licking messily around your clit, not really trying to get you off, just aiming to get you wet. When he pulls back, toy in hand, he raises the glowing toy mouth to his own and licks, smiling at the sound of it suctioning to his tongue.

"That good enough?"

And you nod, giving in to his kisses again before he breathlessly spreads you apart with both hands, looking at your cunt like if he blinks it'll all fade away.

"You know I ain't seen this for three months?"

"You been counting?"

"I missed you," he repeats with a breathless kiss to your thigh. "Missed this."

He lights his way with the glow of the toy rumbling in his hand, pulling back your clit for just one second, barely holding in a groan, before he gently holds the mouth of the ghost to you, pressing until the obscene slurp is muffled by full suction on your clit.

And it's divine, just like it always is, but somehow made even better by the man doing it to you. Fascinated eyes don't stop watching as it hammers air lightly at your clit in a constant rhythm, and the sight alone makes you drip. You're grateful for the heat now, and the sheet you'd covered your velvet sofa with, saving you an undoubtedly messy clean up later.

The toy slips when Joel climbs back off his knees to press his mouth to yours, and the air splutters and ripples past your skin again, as Joel laughs into your mouth.

"The sound of this thing, jesus fuckin' christ. Sounds like you're -"

"Don't. Don't make me laugh, you'll distract me."

"I like it when you laugh," but he's already pressing it flush to your skin again, stopping the sound and sending the ripples directly back to your clit.

"Ohh, f- "

"That's it," he says, watching as your hips rock ever so slightly into the throbbing toy sucking away on your clit. "Fuck, that's it. Lettin' me get you off with this thing."

"Think I can get some fingers in and keep this right where you need it?"

"Mm."

"Yeah?" he says, swiping at your entrance with his middle fingers, carefully holding the toy in place with his palm. "Just like that. There we go. Right in there. Fuck, I missed this. Missed bein' in here."

"Fuck."

"That's it. You come on 'em. Wanna feel it."

"Joel, down. Move it down. Ple- ah."

"There?"

"Right there," you sigh, panting and barely making it through the words before your eyes snap shut.

And then Joel is in your ear, his breath fanning against you, cooling you for a second even as his fingers stoke the fire raging in your core.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he murmurs, and you just know he's looking down at you, the picture of a perfect mess. A sheen of sweat on your skin, lips swollen and parted as you gasp, thighs spread wide, hips rocking into Joel's illuminated palm, t-shirt rucked high over your hips, hands on your tits, nipples pinched between your own fingers, moaning, panting, coming.

You twitch in his arms, burying your head in his neck and breathing deep. Something about the position you're in can keep it going longer, can keep that thrumming pressure on your clit right where it is, past your usual limit, dragging your orgasm on and on until you're gasping Joel's name.

He gingerly pulls the glowing toy off of you - its brightness dimmed only slightly since you lost sight of it between your legs - fiddling with buttons until he gives in and throws it to the side to run his hands over you.

With a light kisses to your parted lips, he apologizes, giving you softly muttered sorrys for ever upsetting you, for taking so long to come talk to you, and before you can return the sentiment, he sends you laughing again.

"And I'm sorry for breakin' into your house. Accidentally."

Your laughter makes him shift, and his face contorts as he gasps in discomfort.

"Fuckin' jeans. Pinchin'," is all he says, as he tries to adjust himself. You can see his zipper strain with the weight of his cock, stiff and unattended, behind the thick fabric.

"Take 'em off."

"Came here for you, not me."

"And if I want you to come for me?"

Joel blinks.

"Then I'm takin' my damn pants off," he says, taking his pants off. He sighs in relief when the pressure on his cock is released, groans when your hand palms him over the damp fabric, gasps into your mouth when you slip your fingers beneath his waistband, finding his cock slick and wet with precum, curses into your hair when you lick the salty taste of him from your fingers.

Tugging his boxers down a little more, his cock springs free, slapping his wet tip against his belly. In a blink you're on him, pulling off his shirt as you go to suck wet kisses into his neck, his chest, and letting your fingers toy with his nipples and the other feel down past his boxers, cupping his balls and rolling your thumb across the sensitive flesh before he pushes up into you.

He's solid. You're surprised he didn't come in his pants with how firm he feels slipping against your cunt. You meet his thrust, grinding down into his solid length, trying to hold your own shirt up so you can see the tip of his cock as he ruts against you.

"Does that feel good?"

"Fu - yeah. Y'always feel good."

"Y'know what would feel better," you whisper, scratching gently down his chest and watching goosebumps prickle his skin. With a shift of your hips, his next thrust pushes in, just slightly, before popping out and grinding into your clit again. His next thrust - slower, firmer - notches against your entrance and pushes in, Joel's hands on your ass dragging you down, until you're seated to the root of him.

It's a stretch. It always was. But over three months, and a decline in solo sessions, made it even more so.

Still, even through the stretch, you rock against him, looking into the eyes of Joel Miller, the normal, every day guy who lives down your street, and smile at it all, and the look on his face that says he couldn't be luckier.

"Said I wanted you to come, didn't I?"

And you meant it. You show him how much you mean it as you start to ride him, lifting higher and higher off of him before pushing back down. Your thighs clap against his, wet with sweat and slipping together with each movement, echoing around your living room.

It doesn't last long. It can't. It's too fucking hot, and you're woefully out of practice as the stretch in your pussy turns into a burn in your legs. You can see Joel's face start to pinch and contort, looking between your face, your bouncing tits, and the slip of his cock in and out of you, barely visible in the shadows.

But you can't keep going. You'll pass out if you do. Joel's hands register what you're doing before his face does, gripping tighter and holding you down on him, before his mouth opens in a gasp, his head falling back after losing something he was so close to getting.

You barely pull in a breath of warm air before Joel is dragging you down, flipping you unceremoniously onto your back on the floor.

It's cooler down here, even with Joel's body over yours. It's why you were on the floor to begin with, before he came back, before you let him back in. Joel fumbles against you, the sweat on your body acting more like a full body lube at this point, before he slides back in, knocking the air out of you as he fills you all over again.

Even though his knees will be bruised in the morning and your back will ache, he pounds into you, gripping your shirt and pulling you down with each thrust.

And it's just so fucking good you can't help but practically scream as he fucks you, moaning loudly into his ear as he groans and pants and swears into yours. Your fingers can't find purchase against his back, even as you desperately claw at him. There's too much sweat - it's too fucking hot in here - but you wouldn't change any of the desperate mess that you find yourselves in here on the floor.

He's growling, balls slapping against you, fucking you so hard you have to throw a hand out to hold onto the couch.

"I'm gonna - fuck - look at me. Look. Fuck. Fuck."

He presses in then, spurting deep in you, stealing the air from your mouth, and you from his, as you gasp and groan with each shallow thrust of his hips.

When he pulls out, hands going from bruising grip to gentle strokes, he rolls off of you, his back slapping wetly against the ground just as your pussy makes its own equally wet sound. And you laugh, because it's silly, just like it always has been, with or without a costume or a name that's not quite his own to go with it. Joel chuckles along with you, content and dozy from his orgasm, the evidence of it trickling out of you and making a mess of your floor as your stomach contracts with laughter.

The house cools down in the darkness - not much, but enough. Your hands find each other again too, and you each dance small patterns across each others skin until words come back to you.

You talk there on the floor, sweat drying on your skin, until the rumble of your stomach becomes too distracting to continue. You learn his favorite color, what he does for a living, his daughters name. You even learn the exact make and model of his truck, something you immediately forget.

And when he tries to excuse himself, too frightened of overstaying his welcome, you invite him to stay, and Joel Miller, the best Joel you've ever met, says yes.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups@wannab-urs@bean-is-reading@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@youandmeand5bucks-blog@bbyanarchist@vickywallace@kamcrazy123@valkyreally@ashhlsstuff@a-literal-goblin@ariundercovers@iluvurfather@stevie75@toxicanonymity@thesevi0lentdelights@sp00kymulderr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #big bawl jawl #never forget the balls #fic: dress up joel

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mirohlayo · 1 year ago

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F1 DRIVERS AND THEIR FIRST KISS

WITH YOU

including boys from mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

warning : none, some fluff

note : looks like i don't like max danny and pierre bc i didn't put any color for them but there's just no matching color on tumblr 😔

!! english not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

on a date. he's a simple, romantic kind of guy but still he puts a lot of efforts to make everything perfect and special. he would brings you to the restaurant, offering you an luxurious meal just for you. or maybe an amusement park. whatever you like, as long as you enjoy the date. and then he'll takes you home, making sure he sees you walk inside your apartment and close the door behind you so that he knows you're all safe. but just before that, he would smiles with loving eyes and cups your face gently. maybe a bit hesitant at first, but then he leans in and captures your warm lips, kissing you as if it was the last time he could do it. but fortunately, it is the first and for sure not the last time that he will do it. and then when you disappear behind the wooden door he giggles so hard and can't stop smiling, still feeling the pleasant sensation.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

after a podium during a race. he jumps out of his car after winning a podium well deserved. he runs towards the engineers and the race team who are congratulating him for his fantastic job. everyone hugs him and pats his shoulder, head. he smiles brightly as he hugs back every single one person. and then your turn. next was you. he literally stop himself right in front of you. of course you congratulate him, saying that you are proud of him and everything. his smile widens , his gaze softens, and the second later his lips are on yours. he would kiss you roughly because of how much he craved to kiss you but still softly, he wants to savor every second of it. then he pulls out, stroking your rosy cheeks as the cameras takes loads of photos of you two, smiling at each other.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

playing piano together and quick kiss. you guys would just randomly touch some keys of the piano, sharing the seat and so seating next to each other, shoulders pressed together. charles already loves your touch and closeness as he can also smells your sweet and fruity perfume which tickles his nose. then he starts playing a beautiful, romantic song that was actually meant for you. you just listen carefully to the melody, closing your eyes and feeling the emotion that seizes you. but the music stops suddenly, and you open your eyes confused. he places his thumb and forefinger on your chin to make you look at him, and when your eyes meet, he gets lost in them before suddenly placing a quick kiss on your lips. you blink, trying to process what just happened, and charles would just starts pecking all of your face, but mostly your lips.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

like oscar, on a date. but a cooking or baking date. you invite him to your apartment and suggest cooking together and then after watch something on the tv. first, you guys would follow the recipe because of course you wanted to eat a delicious dinner. but gradually it become a mess and a food battle takes place. carlos would just throws you flour, or even draws some lines and patterns on your skin such as your arms, shoulders and of course your face. he also traces hearts on your cheeks with some ketchup on his finger. literally, just painting you with cute stuff. but the moment is just too funny and sweet, that now he's focused on your lips which forms a smile. i think he would go with something like "you have a stain here" and right after leans in and kiss you tenderly. but soon the cooking date would become a kissing and pecking session, almost forgetting about the recipe and dinner.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44

waking up next to each other. you are already dating for some months now, but never you really kissed each other. in any case, never on the lips. you guys just going with pecks and kisses on the cheek, neck, forehead or hands. actually, every part of your faces except your lips. because maybe you were too shy but also it is something very important and special for both of you, especially hamilton. but now, you are both sleeping in your shared bed, you in lewis' arms. his grip is tight on your waist because he always wants to keep you close to him during the night. and the morning, he wakes up first. he looks down at you, eyes fluttering slowly as he admires your pretty sleepy face, a lazy smile glues on his lips. and then you wake up, crossing his lovely gaze. he would smiles wider and says "good morning love" before pressing for the first time his lips on yours. and his heart feels lighter, experiencing this new pleasant sensation.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

dancing in the rain. george takes you on a walk, because he just wanted to spend some time with you. just the two of you together. and you both like walking, maybe for some people it is boring but it's an another way to appreciate each other's presence and that was enough for you. he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers, gently stroking the top of your hand with his thumb. you walk for a while, sometimes stopping in front of store fronts until little water drops starts to fall from the sky. and then more and more water drops falls. now it is raining. a lot. so you decides to secure and stays underneath a bus stop. you waited and hoped the rain would calms down. but no, still raining a lot. and so george has this idea. he would grabs your hand and takes you with him under the rain. first you would be a bit angry, but when he starts dancing with you and laughing at te situation, you follow him and start to enjoy the moment. and the moment is so perfect, he has to kiss you. so he does it. your hot lips warms his person as he delights into the feeling. and no need to say it would be by now his favorite activity.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

truth or dare game, but it is just true. a sleepover between max and your common friends was organized. and now it's time to go. you greet your friends as you walk inside the house, and smile brightly to max who is waving to you. you go to the bathroom to change into your pajama and then the sleepover starts. you're sitting next to max, mostly talking with him because of course he is your secret crush. one of your friend then suggests to play a truth or dare game, because it is something you all had the habit to do during nights like that. so the game starts, your friends mostly answering truth questions. then the bottle turns, and obviously it stopped right in front of max. he chooses dare. and fuck. the dare is to kiss someone present here. you feel weird, a bit awkward because you didn't want to see him kiss another girl. but max takes your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. and without realizing it, he's already kissing you. you kiss him back, and you can feel he struggles to pull back. and after he would whisper in your ear "the kiss was not a game. just my true feelings"

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

photoshoot kiss. daniel loves taking photos. especially of you, because he always says your his muse and you're super photogenic. so you two were on a trip right now. and of course daniel had to take his camera. to take lot of photos and make good memories. the landscape is just amazing. it is winter and christmas decorations and lights are everywhere in the streets. you stop walking to sit on a bench, taking a little break before going to a random restaurant you would find on your way. as you sit down, daniel takes his camera in his hands. and of course he had to take plenty photos of both of you, together, in this amazing place. he clicks on the button, and just can't stop taking photos. from smiling faces to funny faces, easily a hundred pictures have been taken. but one photo is missing. and daniel don't like when he don't have the perfect photo. so without thinking more, he places the camera in front of you to take a selfie and says "look at me". he clicks on the button and then as the flash lights you his lips captures yours. now you are all shy and he's just giggling, looking by now at his favorite photo for the rest of forever.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

during your birthday party. it is your birthday day, and a party have been organized by pierre, your best friend and your family. so when you come to the place, all eyes are on you. everyone is saying happy birthday and wishing you the best, but pierre can't take take off his eyes of you. you are just too beautiful. and then the party starts. people are dancing and singing, just enjoying the moment. you're sitting to a table with your closest friends, including pierre. you didn't remark it but he was just stealing glances at you. soon it is the the end of the party and all are playfully asking you to do a speech. you laugh shyly, not really wanting to do it but pierre's smile reassure you, so you just start speaking. you thank everybody of course, and after your speech pierre joins you, standing next to you. he would go with something like "this is my gift for you" and then after quickly kiss you. and kiss you once again but this time more deeply and tenderly, showing all of his love for his favorite birthday person.

#f1 x you #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russel x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #pierre gasly x reader

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sanctus-ingenium · 2 years ago

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we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

#it's so god damn insulting u know. even redbubble threw its shitty payouts directly into my paypal asap #inprnt

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badgerbl00d · 1 year ago

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taking an aphrodisiac and seeing who gives in first

☆ characters: ace, law, kidd

☆ up next: running into your ex ft. zoro

☆ summary: you take an aphrodisiac together and decide to throw in a competitive edge ; smutty, minimal plot oops

☆ a/n: this is a reupload- the original was deleted for some reason :(; requests are opened and being worked on! enjoy <3

☆ 18+, mdni

ace

You waited until everyone was asleep to make your way over to Ace’s room. The two of you had decided it would probably be best to not say anything to anyone for a while, at least until you both had more time to get used to being together.

It still sent shivers down your spine to think about the fact that you were actually dating.

You knocked on his door, using the knocking pattern he’d taught you exactly the way he’d insisted you did.

“Ace, that’s dumb,” you’d insisted.

“No- I-I’m serious! What if I answer the door naked and Marco’s the one who knocked?”

“Why the hell would you be answering the door naked at all?”

“Well, you know ‘cause it’s, like, sexy.”

You stared at him and decided it would be best to just do a stupid secret knock.

“...Okay what’s the knock.”

“Haha! Yes! Ok, so knock once, and then twice really fast- like da-dum, OK?”

“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Good. Then you’re gonna drumroll on the door for like three whole seconds. After that alternate between left and right twice and then-”

“Ace I’m just gonna knock three times, ok?”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You waited for a few seconds before Ace opened the door for you.

He pulled you in for a kiss, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“My knock would’ve been better.”

You giggled and followed him to his bed, pulling out the chocolate.

The two of you had been sent shopping earlier and came across a stall selling ‘enhanced’ chocolate. After some inquiry, you discovered it was an aphrodisiac, supposed to increase libido.

You and Ace bought it, giggling like schoolgirls, and decided you’d try it tonight.

“So we just eat it and… bang?”

“Yes, Ace, we eat it and bang.”

“I meant like bang, boom, y’know?”

Well, I meant it like sex. “Here,” you broke the candy in half and handed it to him.

“Hold on, hold on,” he sat down next to you and pulled you onto his lap, placing a flurry of kisses on your cheek before continuing, “Wanna make it more interesting?”

“Depends what you have in mind.”

“Let’s make a bet- See who lasts longer without giving in.”

You perked up at this.

“What will I get when I win?”

He laughed, “ ‘When?’ I think you mean if. Don’t get overconfident, cutie. How about… I will take you shopping for anything you want.”

“Deal.”

Ace grabbed half of the chocolate and popped it into his mouth, and you followed suit.

He put on a kids' show you both liked in the background, it was a cute one about a boy and his stretchy dog. He said it reminded him of him and his brothers. The two of you got comfortable on the bed, you sat leaned up against a mountain of pillows, and Ace laid on you, head resting on your thighs.

You played with his hair while he rubbed your legs, as you slowly started to feel the effects of the drug.

You could tell Ace had started to feel it as soon as he started squirming.

When he turned over, his stomach against yours, and started to kiss your chest and tummy, you knew you’d won.

“About that bet…” he said.

“Already?! You didn’t even try! Go sit over there.”

“I’m sorry you’re just so beautiful and soft and I’m so hard it’s starting to hurt.”

You giggled and pulled down the straps of your shirt to tease him.

“You want this?”

He nodded eagerly. So cute.

He reached behind you and unhooked your bra, tossing it on the floor.

He watched as your boobs bounced out, and with his hands around your waist, took one into his mouth.

“A-ah, Ace,” you panted as his warm mouth enveloped your nipple.

The hot, sticky wetness of his tongue felt so, so good. Your resolve immediately crumbled and you caved to his touch.

He sucked slightly harder, his teeth gently closing around it.

“Ace,” you whined, your hands finding their way up his back and into his hair.

His hands were wrapped around his waist and he was laying on top of you, lined up so that his hardening dick was against your thigh.

You felt a sudden burst of warmth emanate from his hands, sending a violently pleasurable shiver up your spine. He knew you loved when he involved his devil fruit abilities into your sexual encounters.

You not-so-gently pulled on his hair as your back arched into his tongue that was persistently lapping at your sensitive nipple.

He pulled away with a pop.

“M-more, Ace,” you breathed, “I want more.”

He sat up on his knees and clumsily fumbled with his pants, failing to untie the knot at the front.

“Let me help,” you said, reaching up to untie it for him.

You made eye contact with him as you pulled down his sweats, slipping a finger into the band of his boxers.

He took in a shaky breath, his lips parted in awe.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You didn’t respond and instead pulled down his boxers.

He was very long and pleasantly thick.

You felt yourself getting even wetter at the memory of how he stretched you out last time.

Ace didn’t shave either, you figured he was far too impatient but it was something you absolutely loved.

You wrapped your lips around him, slowly working your way to the base, spit coating his dick.

He placed a gentle hand in your hair, guiding you along with him as he laid back down on the bed.

He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail and slowly bobbed your head up and down and up and down against his length- hissing as your tongue slid up his length and swirled around the tip with every movement.

“F-feels so good,” he said.

You moaned against him, earning an involuntary shudder from your boyfriend.

You wrapped a hand around him, lightly squeezing his spit-soaked cock.

“N-no, no, no, too much,” he whined, “Gonna cum!”

You started to move your head faster and were abruptly pulled off of him.

“Let me fuck you first, princess, ‘m gonna cum if you keep going.”

You sighed but relented.

“That’s the goal, baby,” you said, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest.

“Then let me cum in you,” he begged.

You lowered yourself down onto his length as he held himself in place for you, moaning as you felt that familiar stretch.

“F-fuck,” you breathed, “You feel so good- So big.”

“Yeah? You like this position?”

He started to move his hips, fucking up into you.

“Y-yes, Ace- Fuck! Oh, my god, d-don’t stop!”

Your breathless moans were more than enough to get him up to a delicious pace.

You pressed hot, wet kisses to his mouth, welcoming the abnormally warm sensation in your tummy.

You knew your boyfriend ran hot and it was the most unexpectedly wonderful thing about having sex with him.

You were sweating, covered with water droplets that were running down your body.

Ace’s hands dug into you, wet smacking sounds filling the room as you both got closer and closer.

You cried out with every thrust, and Ace’s head was completely fogged with euphoria.

Your stomach was twisting and tensing with pleasure, and you rapidly tapped Ace’s chest to let him know you were close.

He brought an arm up to your throat, gently closing his hand around it.

You grabbed onto his forearm and pulsed around him wildly as you finished all over him.

With a few more thrusts his hips started to twitch and you could tell by his erratic pace that he was close.

“G-gonna cum, baby- Gonna cum!”

You tightened around Ace’s cock, and felt the sudden hot spurts of cum filling you up.

When he was finished, he brushed your hair out of your face and gently tucked it behind your ears before lifting you up to pull out.

His cum leaked out of you and all over his thighs.

You laid down onto him, your sticky, sweaty bodies breathing in sync.

He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

You started giggling and he joined in.

You slowly sat up and pressed a kiss to Ace’s sweaty forehead before collapsing onto the bed next to him.

He sighed and grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours.

“Wanna know something?” he said.

“Hm.”

“I love you!”

“I love you more! Do you wanna know something?”

“Always,” he said.

“You lose.”

kidd

“Kidd! Hurry up,” you called him into your bedroom.

You were sitting in bed, the covers messily thrown around you.

He walked into the room, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist, just barely dried off.

He still had his lipstick on, not having bothered to take it off, it was smudged messily around his lips.

Water beads were running down his chest and arms, and he smelled like lavender and shampoo.

He loved watching you get ready for bed and had started timing his showers so that he could be in the bathroom at the same time as you.

Something about the routine was so domestic- it made him feel warm inside. He’d never admit it out loud but by the third time he had made it a point to have all his work done so he could shower with you, you’d put two and two together.

He was completely entranced watching you take off your makeup, brush your hair, put on lotion like you always did, and, of course, watching you change. He’d offer to ‘help’ though, in reality, he just wanted an excuse to have his hands on you.

He sat next to you on the bed, reaching over to grab a pair of gray sweatpants you’d set out for him.

You sat on your knees, wearing an old torn-up t-shirt of his.

In your hands were two small pieces of chocolate, that you and Kidd had been eagerly waiting to eat.

“I'm here, darlin’,” he said, getting up to put on his pants.

“Won’t be needing those,” you giggled.

He turned to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“Ready?”

You kissed him, gently biting his bottom lip.

“That eager, hm?”

Kidd reached for one of the chocolates in your hand, which you moved out of his reach.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, hold on,” you were greeted with an eye roll, “I wanna make a bet.”

Impatience had been starting to show itself on his face until the word ‘bet’ fell from your lips.

His competitiveness outweighed his short attention span.

“What kind of bet, love?”

A devilish smile spread on your face, easily Kidd’s favorite of your many expressions, “I think you’re going to be so pathetically desperate that you’ll give in before I even feel it.”

He laughed, and your stomach twisted in anticipation at the way he looked at you after.

“Deal, baby, but what am I gonna get when I win?”

“Whatever you want.”

You blinked up at him, and he felt his dick twitch in his pants.

His confidence momentarily faltered, before he snatched a chocolate out of your hand and ate it as he made his way out of the room toward his office.

“I’ll be in there, baby. Working.”

You lay down on your side of the bed and waved him off, grabbing your book from your nightstand.

You knew five minutes in that you were destined for failure. You tried to focus on the book but the lines were blurring into one another and all you could think of was how Kidd’s hands felt when they were around your throat, or smacking your ass, or pulling you closer into him by your waist.

After an excruciating twenty minutes of resisting the pooling wetness in between your thighs, you swallowed your pride and made your way to Kidd’s office.

You lightly knocked before walking in, blushing from embarrassment.

Kidd sat in his office chair, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, beckoning you toward him with a few pats to his lap.

If you weren’t so achingly desperate to feel that hand grabbing and squeezing you, you would’ve given him a piece of your mind for calling you to him like a dog.

Yet, like a dog, you obeyed and made your way toward him tail tucked between your legs.

You were dressed in nothing but the t-shirts and a pair of black and white polka dot panties.

He pulled you onto his lap once you were close enough and you straddled him, sinking your lips eagerly into his, his lipstick smudging across both of your faces.

He loved seeing you like that- he took a guilty pleasure in seeing you marked up, be it by his lipstick or hickeys he wanted to see you completely covered.

Pulling away from the kiss to look at your lover, you suddenly became very aware of his hardening erection that was pushed snugly against your pussy.

It dawned on you now that had you stuck it out even just a few more minutes you probably would’ve won the bet. But that was the last thing on your mind and all you could think of now was the feeling of familiar hardness against your lower half.

A breath caught in your throat and your own arousal started to soak through your panties.

You could feel your heartbeat pulsing in your clit, the throbbing sensation starting to overwhelm you.

You pawed at his chest, desperate for some kind of give, and slowly started circling your hips against him.

“You like feeling my dick against ya? Hm?”

He patted your cheek lightly when you didn’t answer and you nodded.

“You want more?”

You nodded again, more enthusiastically this time.

He slapped your face- a little harder this time.

“I want to hear you say it,” he reminded you, holding your face in one hand, your cheeks squished together.

“Y-yesh, captain, want more,” you moaned, picking up the pace of your grinding against his lap.

“Sit up for me baby,” he said.

You did, raising your ass from his thighs.

He pushed your panties to the side and ran a cold, metal finger up your slit, gathering your slick arousal onto it.

“Ah! Please, Kidd, please. I’ve already lost, so don’t tease!”

He laughed at your desperation, “Quit whinin’ sweetheart, gimme a sec.”

He pulled the waistline of his sweatpants down and his cock sprang up, lying flat against his abdomen.

The tip was flushed pink and dribbling pre-cum.

Tentatively, you wrapped your small hand around the base and lightly pumped up and down.

Kidd made no complaints so you moved your hand with more vigor.

Your thumb swiped at the leaking slit on his head and used the arousal to pump him faster, earning heavenly moans to fall on your ears.

“Just like that, Y/n.”

You bit your bottom lip and bent down slightly to start pressing wet kisses to his throat as you pleased him.

You worked your way up to his jaw, and pulled away to look up at him.

He was in complete euphoria, his head leaning back against the chair, neck completely exposed to you.

You watched as his chest rose and fell, in sync with every up and down motion of your hand.

You slowly started to get yourself down from his lap- and his head shot up.

“Oi, oi, where’re ya goin’?”

“Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good.”

You could tell he didn’t like this at all, he was always in control.

He told you when to cum, where to lick, what to do, and this was driving him insane.

But the pleasure coursing through his body left his brain feeling too good to question anything.

You knelt down on the floor in front of him and guided his hand to your hair, which he gladly held up.

“I see,” he mused, a smile spreading on his face, “In that case, go ahead, darlin’.”

You wrapped both hands around the base of his extraordinarily thick cock, bringing the tip towards your already extended tongue.

Your hands worked in unison with your mouth, pumping him while you licked up and down his head.

When he was sufficiently worked up you enclosed your mouth over the smallest amount possible, gathering spit in your mouth.

It dribbled down the underside of his cock, providing you with the necessary lubrication to take him down your throat.

You started slow- Kidd was big and you knew you had to warm up before taking all of him.

His grip on your hair tightened as your tongue licked the underside of his shaft, and your lips wrapped around the rest of him.

His breathing was getting faster and curses were spilling out of his throat.

You finally took him to the base, your nose getting buried in his pubes.

You gagged and your eyes started to water, but Kidd held your head in place.

“F-fuck, shh, shh, breathe baby, breathe,” Kidd shuddered out, “Just like that, oh, good girl.”

Tears started falling from your eyes as your Captain sat back up, and started to slowly pump himself in and out of your mouth.

You could tell by the twitching and tensing of his dick that he was getting close, and your own arousal was starting to drip down your legs.

You sharply inhaled with every thrust he gave, holding onto his thighs to try and support yourself.

“So good f’me,” he panted, “Gonna cum soon.”

You moaned against him as he fucked your mouth, gently cupping his balls in one hand.

“Fuck!”

With no warning you found yourself swallowing hot spurts of cum.

“MM! Mmf mm mmm-” KIDD! Don’t do that-

He interrupted you with a loud laugh, “Sorry darlin’ I couldn’t help it.”

You swallowed and Kidd lifted you back up onto his lap, wrapping strong arms back around your waist.

You pulled aside your panties, letting your flooding arousal pour onto him.

You sat up on your knees, letting him rub his length up and down your slit, before slipping the head in.

You winced as you lowered your hips down, taking him fully.

He pushed up into you once he had bottomed out, earning a generous moan from you- music to his ears.

His hands tightened around your waist as he started to bounce you up and down, you were so wet that every slight movement was audible and filled the room with the sticky, wet sounds of you sucking him in.

He slid in and out of you so easily, and you were so tender that it wasn’t long until you were close.

With every kiss of his tip against your g-spot the coil in your stomach tightened, a strong, delicious tension pressed against the spot right beneath your tummy.

The steady smack, smack, smack that had started to fill the room clouded your thinking and you were completely rag-dolled by Kidd who was bouncing you at a relentless pace.

In a flash of white, hot pleasure you came- hard. Your fingernails dug into your boyfriend’s back, a few even breaking skin. Your thighs pressed against each other and you fell forward, leaning your full body weight against him.

The both of you sat in silence for a moment, the sound of your breathing filling the room.

Slowly, you sat up pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I win.”

Kidd’s brows furrowed, “No, ya fuckin’ don’t. You came in here begging for-”

“So? I walked in and you were already hard, so I won.”

“That’s definitely not how this works, love. You walked in wetter than water-”

“HA! I did not,” you lied, “I wasn’t even wet until I sat on your lap. You’re such a sore loser-”

Kidd laughed, and pressed kisses all over your face, “You’re a terrible liar, love.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. What do you want as a prize?”

Kidd pulled you closer to him, your breath getting gently pushed out as your chest pressed against his.

“I want more.”

law

You flipped through the pages of a special Valentine’s Day magazine, dog-earing the pages of clothing shops and restaurants you wanted to visit with your boyfriend when he had time.

He was sitting at his desk, just a few feet away from you organizing medical files and equipment into his drawers.

His music was playing in the background, out of a small speaker you got him for his twenty-fifth birthday.

A smooth saxophone melody danced over a relaxing, steady drum beat.

He loved jazz.

Helps me concentrate, he’d said.

It had grown on you after a year of listening to it every night and there were few things you found yourself enjoying more than these late nights with your boyfriend, each of you doing your own thing while still enjoying the other’s company.

You were the cutest, sweetest thing in the world to Law, and on nights like these, he liked watching you when you thought he was completely absorbed in his work.

He watched as you’d read, play a video game, or map out your next course.

Laying on your stomach, you swished your feet in the air behind you, gently rocking them to and fro- a sign Law knew far too well.

“Bored, baby?”

You stilled your feet, feeling guilty that he noticed.

“A little,” you admitted, “And this magazine is making me sad.”

He quirked an eyebrow, asking for elaboration.

“It’s full of cute romantic stuff to do, but who knows if we’ll even get a chance. What with being outlaws and all.”

He smiled and put away the rest of the mess in front of him before sitting on the bed next to you.

You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, and laid your head down against his shoulder.

“If you want to go to any of these places, you just let me know and we’ll go. Any marines or bounty hunters that try to intervene will be sorry.”

You giggled, “Should we plan out our Valentine’s Day then?”

He nodded.

“But first, I have something for you.”

You sat up at this, looking up at him with your big doe eyes.

He pulled out a small piece of chocolate from his pocket.

“Oh! Thank you! Is it dark chocolate ‘cause I don’t like the other kinds-”

You reached for it, but Law pulled back before you could grab it.

“Tsk, tsk- Hold on, my love.

We’re going to split it.”

You found it somewhat odd that you’d split such a small piece of chocolate and furrowed your brows, earning a laugh from your boyfriend who was unwrapping the candy.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.”

Oh! Your eyes widened, and eagerness pooled into them.

He froze for a second, “Shit- wait! Should I have waited until Valentine’s Day? This would’ve been a good surprise, dammit.”

You laughed out loud at his sudden change in demeanor and quickly reassured him that it was perfectly fine.

“Good to have a test round anyway, no?”

He kissed your forehead and handed you a piece.

As you ate he continued, “To make it a little more interesting, you’re gonna go to the library and I’ll go to the operation room. Whoever gives in first loses.”

“What constitutes giving in?”

“Asking for sex.”

You stood up, stretching your body out, fingertips extending toward the roof.

Walking out you stood at the doorway, turning to look back at your lover.

“You’re gonna lose.”

“I am? Oh, but what if I do this,” he said before he suddenly stood up and walked toward you, “Please, Y/n.”

Your panties flooded upon hearing these words, so sickly sweet and needy, and you pressed your thighs together.

Law slowly knelt on the floor in front of you, placing a large hand on the outside of each of your thighs.

He sank lower before you and pressed soft kisses up your legs, stopping at your knees.

Your heartbeat quickened and you could hear your breathing, now made up entirely of fast inhales and exhales like your lungs were trying to catch up with the frenzied, eager mess between your thighs.

A hand made its way between your knees and Law looked up to you, as though asking for permission to part them.

Your lips were parted and glossy, you looked so sweet and cute that he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the denim tightening around it.

This kind of eagerness, this lust that filled him had been completely unknown to him before meeting you.

He pushed your legs apart and his tongue attached to your left thigh, licking a long, wet stripe up it, stopping right before your pussy.

It took immense willpower to not give in right then and there, to not sink his tongue and lips into your wet, dripping heat. To stop himself from indulging in that feeling of the fat of your pussy smothering his face.

But he instead turned to your right thigh, licking and biting his way up it, marking your legs with love marks. Littered hues of dark browns and purples mixed with vibrant reds and pinks covered your thighs.

Your bottom lip trembled as you ignored every sensation traveling in and on your body. Your nerves were aching, screaming for you to ask Law to touch you. Beg him, if you had to.

But you resisted- blinking back the tears that pooled on your lower lash line in an attempt to refocus.

The surgeon took note of your resolve and decided to make it crumble.

He lifted your shirt up and over your head and unhooked your bra.

He watched, with an unnerving intensity as your tits jiggled around and softly pinched at your nipples.

Your cheeks were hot to the touch and goosebumps flooded your skin.

“A-ah-,” you moaned as he started to lick and suck your nipples, getting rougher and rougher. He held your breasts in his hands and pushed them against each other, sloppily licking over any and everything he could reach with his tongue.

You openly moaned now, completely overcome by the euphoric sensation you were feeling.

His tongue was soft and warm and wet and sticky and felt so, so good over your aching breasts that had been eager for his touch.

“L-law, please- Oh, my god, yes! Yes,” you whined and writhed under his touch.

He pulled away with a pop, “You like it that much, bunny?”

You fervently nodded and your hands found their way onto his head, tangling themselves in his dark black hair.

“C’mere, baby,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

You snaked your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, savoring how he tasted.

Pressing a hand against your chest, he laid you down on the couch and grabbed your legs placing them over his shoulders.

Your stomach tensed up, and you could feel your desperate pussy start to twitch.

He lowered himself so he was level with your soaked panties and placed a kiss right on top of your clothed clit, earning a series of pathetic whines from you.

You reintroduced your hands to his hair, gently pulling and tugging him toward your needy heat.

“This is what you want?”

He ran a long finger up and down your slit.

“Yes! Please, please Law. E-eat me out, ‘m so so wet for you,” you begged.

He pushed your panties to the side, and with a pointed tongue, licked up and down your slit- never quite touching your clit. He gathered the slick pouring out of your hole on his tongue and spit it back onto your pussy.

The teasing continued as he sucked and softly bit your lips, licking everywhere but the aching bundle of nerves that you could feel throbbing.

“Don’t tease!” you cried, desperate for him to give you what you wanted.

He laughed and with torturous slowness, started to lick your pulsing bud.

It was euphoric- waves of hot, warm pleasure flooded your body as you sunk your nails into the couch cushions, moans spilling from your lips.

He knew exactly what he was doing, where you liked him to apply more pressure, and where to ease off.

He had an iron grip on your thighs, dimpling the flesh where his fingers held onto you.

Your moans got less consistent and more strained as you got closer.

“Just like that, baby,” you panted, “Gonna cum!”

As he heard this, he pulled you even closer toward his mouth and your back slid down the wall.

His grip tightened on your thighs and would have been painful if not for how sweetly he was eating you out.

The obscene wet sounds of licking and slurping and sucking echoed off the walls of his room and you felt your core tightening as you got closer, your hips bucking up into Law’s face out of desperation.

In a split second, the winding cord snapped and you gasped, digging your hands into the tangled mess that was Law’s hair.

He slowly pulled his face away from your pussy completely soaked.

He had a drunk look in his eyes and you could already feel yourself wanting more.

Law picked you up, palming your ass, and carried you back to his bed.

The clock read 6:34 a.m. when the two of you finally went to shower.

Law did most of the work for you, as you were about ready to pass out.

He pressed soft kisses on your soapy shoulders and dried you off when you were done.

He went and grabbed your favorite pajamas for you and tucked you into bed with a soft kiss.

“And by the way, my love.”

You turned to look at him, lips still puffy from his assault on them.

Law took a moment to appreciate the way your nipples poked through the thin silk of your nightgown, and how gently your chest rose and fell as you started to fall asleep.

He sat next to where you lay on the bed, running a hand through your hair and rubbing circles on your back.

You turned up to look at him, beckoning for him to kiss you.

He bent down, your lips practically touching.

As a sly smile spread over your face you told him,

“Technically speaking, I win.”

2K notes · View notes

xlovingcupcakex · 1 year ago

Text

M!Kylar x F!Reader - Puppy Love (SMUT)

Basically you go to a party looking for a hookup and Kylar catches your attention. Being the first person who doesn't treat him like shit, he instantly falls in love and agrees, especially with your earlier flirting.

2.350 words.

“Isn't he kind of cute...?” you mused to yourself, eyeing up your prey. Around your height, dark hair, green eyes. Nervous. He looks at the floor and holds his cup, shoulders tense, back leaning against the wall. You moved towards him with a glint in your eye. Everyone seemed to avoid him. You weren’t really sure why, but you won’t complain. It just meant less competition for you.

With confident steps, you neared the young man. He still didn’t notice you. But that’s fine. You would get him soon enough and all his attention would be on you. Soon, you were only a few steps away from him. You leaned against the wall next to him, before putting your head on his shoulder and giving him the cutest, innocent smile, you could muster. He seemed like the type to enjoy it.

A shy blush rose to his cheeks as he gripped the cup tighter, the plastic in his hand denting slightly from how hard he was gripping it. He made no attempts to move away, which you took as a quiet yes. Pretty, vibrant green eyes stared back into yours. He gulped as you took in his expression, his adam’s apple moving. Your gaze followed subtly lower, noticing his exposed collarbone, before flicking back up again. His face reddened as you leaned closer to him, your warm breath brushing against his neck.

“How about we leave this party... And get to know each other better, hmm? Would you like that?” keeping up the innocent facade, your hand trailed up his arm, before locking your arms together. As soon as he gave the smallest of nods at you, you started to lead him away from the bustling gathering, opting to move away from the bar at the beach and going to the park instead.

Sitting down on the fountain, you immediately closed the distance between the two of you, your thigh touching his. A squeak escaped him as you kissed him. His lips were slightly chapped, but soft and pleasant anyways.

His palms gripped at his jeans, clutching the material tightly as he was breathing loudly, unsure of what to do. You continued to kiss him, leading him slowly as you put your hand on his cheek and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Your other hand traveled to one of his hands, hoping to calm him down as you trailed soft patterns consisting of stars and hearts on his hand.

You could hear his heartbeat. His breathing got heavier.

Opening your eyes, you saw a gaze so intense that it made you feel hot in your lower stomach. Was he observing you all this time? It made you a little self-conscious. You pulled back from the kiss, both of your cheeks flushed a pale shade as he continued to stare at you, anxious as ever. Smiling at him, you gave him another kiss, this time on his hot cheek, before whispering. “Is this what love at first sight feels like? I think I like it. It would be nice to know the name of my love, though.”

Pulling back again, you have him an innocent expression yet again. He was wrapped all around your finger, now. You could tell by his gaze. Lovestruck, shy, but most importantly, so, so eager. Poor boy couldn’t hold in his excitement so much that he pulled you into another kiss, this time sloppy and wet. All hesitation seemed to escape his reasoning as he tried to recreate what you did earlier, trying his best to deepen the kiss. His hands, compared to how they were before, impatiently twitched as he placed them on your hips and brought you closer. Towering over you as you were forced to lean back because of the close proximity

Like a switch, he turned into a whimpering, pathetic mess as you refused to grant him access as he probed at your lips with his tongue. “Noona... P-please, m-more...”

With a shaking breath, he was basically begging you while you smiled at him teasingly. “I don’t know, Puppy... Maybe if you tell me your name? I’ll give you mine as well, hmm?”

It was all it took for him to tell you about his name with a stutter, before latching onto your neck and placing wet kisses all over it. His eagerness was really endearing. It almost made you reconsider sleeping with him. Such a cute and innocent dude, so flustered and eager for you. “Good boy...” you moaned out, before roughly tugging at the back of his head, exposing his neck as was forced to pull away. A whiny moan left him as he looked at you, eyes full of desperation. It soon changed to surprise as you pulled him in towards you, lips meeting, giving him what he begged for earlier.

The moan he let out was shameless as he wrapped his arm around your waist, letting you take back full control of the situation once more. Kylar wanted nothing more than to make you happy in this moment. “I... I want to be with you... P-Please, Noona!” a rush of excitement filled him as he took in your appearance, completely mesmerized as he admired your beauty. You didn’t even notice when he took his hands into yours, tumbling and playing with them in a similar way you did earlier.

He didn’t need to say more as you dragged him back to your house after he begged you so nicely. As soon as you stepped inside your room Kylar didn’t hesitate to drag you to the bed, him falling first and you following shortly after, falling on top of him and straddling his hips. The sheer size of his manhood surprised you at how big it was, even under your body and under the layer of his clothes.

“Noona...” his hips buckled upwards, meeting yours and dry humping you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he tries to encourage you to move with him as well, desperate for your touch.

Seeing him under you was almost magical. Big, bright blush, reaching past his ears and his neck. His shirt rose up slightly upwards from all the moving and dry humping, exposing his stomach. Eyes soaking up your every curve on your body, slightly teary from how sensitive he was being, his expression erotic.

It made you want to tease him more, but you were already pretty eager to get it going. You made sure to give him a nice view as you look off your shirt, exposing your lace bra. You bended your body forward, almost pushing up your breasts up his face, before you got rid of the bra as well, throwing it somewhere on the ground.

Kylar’s hands twitched as he licked his lips, eyeing up your body hungrily. He could feel his self-preservation slip the more he looked at you and your body, his heart beating so fast he was sure you could hear it. Your expression was cute as well. He loved seeing the way you got all worked up for him. He hoped only he saw that naughty part of you.

“Come on, Kylar~” you gave a teasing roll of your hips. “Let’s get you naked as well, huh?”

You didn’t need to tell him twice as you got off of him, giving him the chance to take off his shirt and the rest of his clothes as well. Giving him a show, you made sure to arch your back as you took off your pants and panties at once, exposing your sex. Although you couldn’t see his expression, you did hear a gasp and a belt unbuckling, before being dragged back into the bed and being thrown on your back.

Kylar didn’t waste any time as he eagerly positioned himself between your legs, running the tip up and down between your folds. He moaned at the way his tip glistened with your arousal. One of his arms was above your head, pinning you. Poor Kylar was begging for you to let him enter you, a soft whine escaping him as he continued to move his cock up and down impatiently.

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at his eagerness. This time you were the one leaning on your elbows as you looked down, curious on what his cock looked like. It was easily described as large, with a pretty, swollen tip. He was already leaking lots of precum.

The thought of having something so big inside you made you shudder. You couldn’t help but notice how it’s his first time, and suddenly, you felt much more self-conscious than before. You were confident, but you didn’t really want to disappoint him. Everything felt so intimate, now. It wouldn’t hurt to make it a bit more special for him, right...?

“Come here, Puppy.”

You reached out your arm and wrapped it around his neck, before bringing him closer and kissing him, using as much passion as you could. You opened your mouth and gently probed at him with your tongue, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. He followed your lead eagerly, leaning into you some more, almost laying on top of you.

Your chests were touching, and Kylar couldn’t help but let go of his cock to grab one of your tits instead, giving it a curious squeeze as he panted into the kiss, enjoying the close proximity and the feel of your body. You muttered a soft “Good job.” under your breath at how he tried his best to please you. As a reward you flipped him on his back and positioned his cock at your entrance, but not before spitting on your hand and giving his cock some extra lubrication.

Watching his reaction, you lowered yourself gently on his length. His eyes widened in surprise as your velvety walls enveloped and welcomed his cock. A loud whine followed by a high-pitched wheeze as he grabbed at the sheets, his hips moving upwards automatically, trying to reach as deep as possible. When you gave your hips an experimental roll, he swore he could see heaven. A moan of your own leaves you at the feeling, it’s been a while since you’ve had a cock this good.

“Oh, Puppy...” you said in a scolding tone as his chest heaved up and down, struggling to catch his breath. You think you saw him almost biting his tongue, trying his best to hold in the noises as he already spilled inside you from the stimulation. As much as you wanted to find it annoying, it was... Endearing in a way.

“Look at the mess you made, so eager...” you moved your hips, with Kylar still being sensitive in his post-orgasmic bliss, not minding the cum that leaked out of your hole and dripped down onto your sheets. It’s obvious cumming once won’t do it for him and you were more than happy to accommodate that.

His expression looked almost like he was in pain from the over-stimulation. His hand moved from the sheets and to your thighs, to your stomach and your waist, anywhere he could reach in the state he was in. He was basically shaking, drool leaking as he looked at you through teary eyes, his voice trembling as he apologized to you, “S-Sorry, I-I'll be good, I p-promise...”

You took the initiative and brought his hand to your cheek as you rode him and moaned his name, leaning into his touch. Poor baby was in heaven, drinking up the sight of you riding him, his cum oozing out of your cunt. It’s okay, he calmed himself, gulping down the air. He’ll just make sure to fill you up some more. Everything for his love.

You muttered another “Good Boy...” against his ear, putting your back into riding him to another orgasm, this time eager to reach your own as well. Kylar wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you as close as possible, his own hips moving, chasing his sweet release. He choked on air when you started to kiss and bite down on his neck, moaning more praises all the while, encouraging him to move as well and to touch you.

He knew you didn’t cum yet, which prevented him from cumming to early again.

He guessed you were close by the way you were clenching down, milking and squeezing him each time your hips moved, and the way your breathing was uneven, hitching each time he hit your cervix. His own pace was relentless, not giving you any time to stop even when you were gasping for air. He continued to rut into you even after you came, refusing to leave you unsatisfied and empty.

“Noona... N-gah! Noona... I l-love you!”

His hips stuttered as he reached his second peak, a content sight and grunt leaving him as he spilled inside of you, coating your walls once more. You were all spent, not bothering to remove yourself from him, instead still straddling his hips, his cock deep inside you as you tried to catch your breath, your sweat glistening in the dimly lit room. Kylar didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it very much, going as far as to bring you closer to him, encouraging you to lay your head down in the crook of his neck.

He didn’t hesitate to inhale the scent of your shampoo as you guys cuddled. His arms were wrapped around you protectively, refusing to let you go. His vibrant eyes were filled with so much love it made you feel a certain type of way, your own heartbeat quickening. You were sure he could hear it as well.

Eventually, with some light giggles, you finally could lay beside Kylar normally. You were no longer straddling his hips, and he took the chance to cuddle into you instead, his head on your chest as he pressed soft kisses wherever he could reach, one of his hands on your hips as he traced patterns with his thumb. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep like this. You’ll talk things with him tomorrow instead.

#dol #dol kylar #dol x reader #kylar dol #kylar x reader #kylar the loner #dol kylar x reader #loving's writing #kylar degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity kylar #male kylar #degrees of lewdity x reader #degrees of lewdity

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anthonsgi · 1 year ago

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★’･ﾟ:｡･:*:First kiss with HSR characters PT.1:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

【Note: Hello! I haven't written anything in a while, but I recently got a surge of motivation, so why not take advantage of that? :) There will be a few parts because I want to write for many characters and the process of writing each one is really long for me so I prefer to spread them out a bit, so if the character you would like to read about isn't here, keep an eye out for future parts, perhaps I will include them there! As per usual, English isn't my first language and I'm learning as I go, please be patient with me. Requests are open! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧】

【Pairings: Kafka, Argenti, Blade x GN!Reader】

【CW: I may have added some angst here and there, but I couldn't resist (I tried to end it with a good, slightly bittersweet conclusion each time though)! I wanted to make the characters' traits as similar to the game's as possible, but a few things may still be out of character, sorry in advance!】

a lil note: this is literally just all of these characters being absolutely SMITTEN for you and them fawning over you, but every day is a good day to get praised left and right, no?

☆〜KAFKA〜☆

It shouldn't be much of a surprise that you fell in love with this young and exceptionally charming woman. As a Stellaron Hunter, she ensures that Elio's predicted plans are carried out. That being said, you were a completely unpredicted element in a series of missions; there was never a mention of you ever being included in situations that you always found yourself stuck in. Kafka always saw it as "the usual result of the unforeseen nature of destiny," as she liked to explain to you.

After a while of simple acquaintance, she has grown more fond of you than she has of anyone. Not only were you beautiful in her eyes, which was a big thing for a connoisseur of beauty such as herself, but she felt at ease with you. She may be a sly, unbothered criminal whose prize for capturing her is enough to provide many good-lived lives for a bunch of Vidyadharas, but she actually really appreciates the times when she doesn't feel like she's being chased by people or by time itself.

Being with you was as enjoyable as studying the waves—a peaceful activity, a thought-provoking process. She desired to look at the horizon and discover more than meets the eye, however, it was quite impossible. The job of a Stellaron Hunter is challenging not only because of the relentless pursuit of destiny and the never-ending dangers but also because it entails never staying in one place for too long, never forming more meaningful connections, and never attaching yourself to finite, frail matters. Even though she knew she was more unlikely to run into the same individual twice as a Devil Hunter than she was now, her options were usually limited.

Kafka isn't one to fully hide her true feelings; she spoke very highly of you, your way of being and thinking, your appearance, and your tendency to be the miracle of one's destiny (*cough* talking about herself there). She has developed a habit of complimenting you just to see you squirm away from her gaze and bite your lower lip to try and stop a smile from forming. These occurrences weren't rare; they always followed the same pattern: she said something = you discreetly reacted = she noticed and couldn't stop noticing.

A kiss from her would be more of an indication of her love than a reveal, showing rather than declaring it. It may have happened during one of your late-night chats where you slowly opened up to one another, or it could have happened in the early morning after she invited herself into your home after you had just woken up and weren't sure if you were still asleep. In any case, without having said much, she leaned in, rested her hand on your cheek, and left a tender and delicate kiss on your lips. It didn't last long, but it meant more than a decade of stolen glances and conversations with hidden meanings.

It didn't feel like a goodbye kiss, it never did, but it was clear it was some form of leaving you wanting more, leaving you yearning for her to come back and see you again, and leaving you wondering how long it would be before she does it once more.

☆〜ARGETNTI〜☆

Knight of Beauty, a follower of the fallen Aeon Idrila. He's constantly on the journey to honor the principles of beauty itself, spreading the grace of his Goddess all over the universe. Discovering numerous forms of beauty in the ordinary and in the extraordinary. When he first laid his eyes on you, it was as if time began to bend around you, a black hole in which the concept of time didn't seem to exist, trapping anyone and everyone residing in its proximity.

Recognizing refinement in people was second nature to him, admiring their souls that mirrored their personalities and beliefs. He wished nothing more than to convey compassion to those who possessed honorable qualities, pure hearts, and desirable traits. Your beauty shone with such radiance that it put the stars to shame; your existence was an excellent reminder of Idrila's presence in the universe.

To Argenti, love is a miraculous feeling that is a joy to experience; it reflects a person's deepest desires and is an act of care so poetic that it almost brings a tear to the eye. In a way, having never experienced it before and having no opportunity to try due to his commitment to traversing in solitude, he decided it wasn't he who was supposed to feel it and that he was merely destined to admire the beauty of it from afar.

Meeting you meant the world to him; you made him feel love for another person for the first time—the all-consuming love from every classical novel he had read. The purest form of it is tragic love, one that breaks down the foundations that hold one's life in perfect balance. He spent several days and nights with you, staying in one location longer than he ever did since becoming a knight—the place where he started to ponder his destiny and his vocation.

He made every effort to push these thoughts away, thinking such things felt like a violation of the universal code of chivalry he upholds, yet when he gazed at your gentle smile as he held your hand, it was a tougher battle than that of a wax candle facing the sun. He was melting into a pitiful puddle as your very being formed him again, never to be the same as before.

One beautiful night, when the birds had gone to sleep, no expectations were laid forth, and no secrets were to be unveiled, Argenti took you by both hands, kissing each knuckle as if they would break if he put pressure on them. He spoke of you as if you were the one he had devoted his life to worshiping, his lips singing silent praises; perhaps it was a prayer, perhaps an apology. His eyes met yours, a nonverbal plea, and you leaned in, connecting your mouths in a passionate kiss, electricity coursing between each soft teeth clashing.

What an outstanding farewell kiss that was. The thought alone made you gulp down the lump growing in your throat. Argenti has to leave, or rather, ought to leave; otherwise, he's afraid he may decide to stay. He's certain your paths will cross one day; it's just the way of the world. Either way, he always finds himself drifting towards beauty. Behind him, he will leave a timeless tale of a wounded and repaired heart, as well as a dose of fate that makes no mistakes.

☆〜BLADE〜☆

The undying man who became a blade, a shell of a person, a mara-stricken monster with no hope for craved demise. His story is one of endless agony and misery. In this everlasting life, Blade's abilities are used in matters including bloodshed, spreading the pain he felt himself, and only then would he feel himself disappear, even for a moment. As bitter as that was, it was reality, his burden to bear. Blade didn't have "companionships" and never needed attachments. The closest he had to an acquaintance was Kafka, whose voice managed to calm the monsters who grew inside him relentlessly, and possibly Silver Wolf. However, he didn't understand her, nor did he wish to.

How you were able to capture his wounded heart remains a forever-unsolved mystery. He, of course, didn't decide one day that the way you laughed made him feel emotions so intense that he wondered if what he was feeling was some form of suffering he'd never experienced previously or that his intensified urge to protect you wasn't just due to the fact he was always nearby when danger struck, but because he genuinely cared. It was a lengthy process imbued with a myriad of understatements and denial. An "I love you" leaving his lips was as bizarre as the prospect of hell freezing over... yet when it did happen, you only wished to hear it again.

He frequently wonders why he finds himself faintly grinning primarily in your presence alone (and obviously during combat). When you resided in his vicinity, everyone could feel a shift in the atmosphere surrounding him, as well as a change in his usual behavior. It was almost comical to observe, especially to his fellow Stellaron Hunters, who never missed an opportunity to tease him. Nonetheless, love expressed by a presumably loveless man is as fascinating as it is arduous. Your existence was curative, helping him to rediscover parts of humanity he thought he had lost, yet healing is a part of him he has come to loathe with every fiber of his being. At one point, he distanced himself, as if limiting your healing influence on him was the sole thing that he could control about his 'condition'.

That didn't last long, and he scurried back to you like a moth to a flame. Blade didn't grasp the concept of physical touch as a kind of comfort; it never failed to remind him of how many times he had been hurt. You, once again, were the exception. Gentle arm touches, random lacing of fingers, your scent, and that insufferable (not really) look in your eyes whenever you stared at him drew him in. As much as he despised life, he did not detest the idea of living simply to be with you; that paradise that always seemed to be out of his reach, a mere push away, appeared to be standing right in front of him.

A minor brush of your body against his made you excited, but a kiss? It's overwhelming to even imagine. You'd have to initiate it, subtly steering the conversation to a topic where it wouldn't be too odd to inquire about moving to the next step in your relationship, acting as lovers. If Blade didn't wear a stoic expression on his face more than half the time, you could tell by his nervous swallowing that he would be at least blushing a little. He wasn't an adolescent, and he didn't think of a kiss as the grandest gesture of intimacy; nevertheless, that didn't free him of hesitations. Being vulnerable and helpless in the hands of another, all of his shortcomings could be easily revealed.

Kissing Blade had to come naturally when you were alone and indulging in small talk; there was no need for a perfectly timed gust of wind or a captivating blanket of stars above, just two imperfect people pouring all of their desires, yearning, and passion into a single imperfect kiss. Your lips met, linking your souls and creating a sensible spark deep within. There was no distance between you, and you were both entirely defenseless against the other's will. After you moved away, it was as if a thousand sentences were pulled from your mouths, yet no one spoke a word. With swollen lips, you were unable to resist a grin while Blade leaned in for another kiss.

lil ending note: hope you enjoyed! also, I have to mention that I know that both Kafka and Blade are Stellaron Hunters so the main problem portrayed in Kafka's part (the never being in one place too long) could potentially be brought up In Blade's part as well, but I decided that would be pretty repetitive so I wrote about Blade's history instead :D

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aureum-cordis · 1 year ago

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Lost & Found, Part 5

A/N: Midterms rolled around and took me out of the fringe for a bit, but I’m back! It’s amazing how much attention Lost & Found has received, thank you all so much! I really do appreciate the follows, likes, and reblogs! I do have a CatNap story and a story with Kissy Missy and Poppy in the works too! If you’re interested in being added to my taglist for Lost & Found or any other potential stories I plan on writing, feel free to let me know! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

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It wasn’t very long until the other Smiling Critters had followed your lead and fell asleep, the leader being the only one to remain awake. He was relaxed, feeling the warmth from the others as they leaned against him and listened to the soft snores that left you as you slept. He couldn’t remember a time when he had seen the bear or the unicorn as tranquil as they were in this moment.

Despite the positivity in the room they sought refuge in, there was danger lurking within the building. DogDay had studied the routes that CatNap patrolled, his rounds being mostly consistent to the point that he was able to notice a pattern and decide where they would shelter accordingly. His sense of time may have been poor, but his sense of smell was what he relied on in moments like this. They had time, not forever, but enough for the others to get some rest.

His gaze fell down to your small body, still resting in his lap and clinging to his arm like a lifeline. He was careful to not move suddenly to keep from disturbing any of those that laid against him, but a small sigh left him as he looked down at your malnourished form. Food was a scarcity as is in this place, something they had witnessed firsthand.

PickyPiggy had been one of the first to be driven mad by hunger, lashing out at the others in a frenzied state. As horrible as it was, DogDay couldn’t have faulted her for it. It was out of her control, the hunger was something vile and demented that warped any rational thoughts, instincts of neither that of a human nor an animal took over in those moments.

He closed his eyes in an instant, trying to rid himself of those memories and the bloodied outcome that followed. When he opened them, he looked down at you, forcing his mind to return to what he had originally been thinking of before his thoughts took a dark path of their own. It was a miracle you hadn’t starved or expired from a lack of water, something that DogDay was greatly concerned by.

You shouldn’t be alive, not for as long as you must’ve been in the building. But you were, something that he couldn't understand but he refused to question it, he knew better than that. He would accept what was given to him without hesitation, when it meant that what he was being given was you.

This decrepit orphanage was never a home, not for you or any of the children. Those that ran it treated the youth as nothing more than lab rats, willing to run more than a few tests on something other than themselves. The thought alone was enough to cause his hackles to raise of their own accord, a growl threatening to leave his perpetually smiling mouth with enough hostility to make anything with sense cower.

Yet, he stopped himself before a sound even escaped him, noticing the way CraftyCorn shifted slightly as they rested against him in her unconscious state. It was grounding, even if unintentional, and assisted in causing his anger to lessen.

Instead, he turned his gaze to you as he listened to your ragged breathing. His softening gaze traced your small form, finally noticing the bruises that you had upon your arms and legs. Some were near the point of fading as shown by their green and brown coloration, while others were a glaring hue of purple.

There was no telling what you had been forced to endure at the hands of men and women that viewed you as nothing more than a test subject. Some part of him was grateful that you weren’t like them, an abomination or organic and inorganic matter strewn together like a poorly made automaton. He hated what they had all become, but not who they were. That was a thought that never crossed his mind.

As surprising as it was, he didn’t even hate CatNap. Not really, not when he knew that he was just a child following the guidance of what he deemed as a friend. He was misguided and demanded others to follow The Prototype as if his word was law, dispatching those that dared to oppose his deity. DogDay wished that this had never happened to any of them, but sorrow and hypothetical situations were pointless now.

The orange dog was optimistic but he also knew that he needed to be realistic. This wasn’t some cartoon that would have a happy ending, where friendship prevailed. This was a dark and demented tale that would end poorly for one, if not all of those involved in it.

A small sigh left him at the negative swarm of thoughts that plagued him like pests as he remained awake, feeling Bobby BearHug nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck as she slept. He was still for several moments afterward, not wanting to risk waking her. Her breathing settled back down into a slow and steady rhythm, which he was relieved to hear.

In moments like this, he was grateful for the company he had. Even though only three, four in reality, of the Smiling Critters remained and you had joined the bunch, he was still thankful. There hadn’t been time to properly mourn any of those that they had lost, not when they constantly needed to remain on the move and the threat of running into CatNap was high.

There was no true soil to bury any bodies, everything in the Playcare was synthetic to some extent. Aside from the buildings, those were made of true materials. The lights were artificial, even the span of day and night was a projection or perhaps a rotating dome. He didn’t know, he hadn’t ever asked to find out and he doubted that he would get a true answer if he had.

There were plenty of workers that were once in the same situation that they now found themselves in. Trapped, unable to break free from this hellish place of bright colors that hid the horror of what happened underground. Truthfully, he understood CatNap’s desire to latch onto a savior and obey their every word, hoping to be led out from this bleak wasteland of shattered dreams and broken souls. It was a childlike hope, but it was one he understood.

They had nearly lost that hope themselves. As their numbers dwindled, Smiling Critters picked off as if they were nothing more than prey animals, he saw the change in those that remained. Especially because he was unable to do anything about it. He couldn’t bring those back that they’d lost nor could he shake the sound of their screams.

DogDay felt powerless in this situation, even if he tried his best to keep from showing that to the others. He was meant to be the leader, but he felt as if he were restrained. As if the only thing he could do was peer out through the metaphorical bars that stood for his guilt and shame. It felt as though something was tearing him apart from the inside every time he dared to think of the others.

But then, he found you. And that had changed everything. You brought back a side of him that he had all but thought he’d lost. Even with as small as you were, you managed to instill hope in CraftyCorn and Bobby BearHug. He could see it in the way they came alive as soon as you entered the room.

It was obvious even now, as you rested in the center of the trio of remaining Smiling Critters. Even as you slept alongside the other two, it was a clear sign that you would be protected. DogDay would make sure of that and he was more than sure that the unicorn and bear at his side would as well.

You were more than just a child that they had taken in. You stood for far more than that, something you would never be able to comprehend at such a young age. The dog knew that you had never had a true family before, it was obvious. Normal children didn’t have scars along their arms from injections nor were they as pale as you were from living under artificial lights for the short amount of time you’d been alive.

They were certainly no replacement for true parents, as unorthodox as they were. But you would be loved, they would provide that along with as much stability as they could. The leader of the Smiling Critters already felt as much and he was almost certain that the feeling was shared amongst those that remained.

He knew that they needed to be wary of how long they stayed in one place. But it wasn’t a dire need to move at this moment in time, CatNap’s patrols were like clockwork and they all knew that it would be a short while before he made his rounds to this wing of the building. DogDay looked down at you one final time as your grip tightened on his arm, before he rested his head against the red bear’s and allowed his eyes to close if for only a few moments.

_________________________________________________

Taglist: @star-the-rabid-dog @urminebutidontwantyou

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torturedtypewritersdept · 5 months ago

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the sun + the sand - pt. six - the proposition

↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.

↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

The aluminum of the boat you sat in swayed back and forth, the ebb and flow of the current beneath it creating a rocking pattern against your skin. It had always made you nauseous – being on the water. There was something about the unsteady, uncoordinated movement of the waves that reminded you how much you were like them, floating through life with no destination. You had always followed what everyone else was doing and when you were drowning, Rafe clung to you; he had always been the life vest protecting you amidst the water trying to permeate your lungs. The nausea was overwhelming as you listened to Pope spew facts he had learned at the science camp he had spent the first few weeks of his summer at; his obsession with becoming a coroner shining through as he led the conversation. You couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what was being said the same way John B’s arm draped around your shoulders, you should’ve been enjoying affection from a boy, especially one so sought after. But, you couldn’t because really, it all felt wrong. It always did when you spent time with this crowd. Though the blue and pink hues of the decorated cotton candy sky was a nice addition to your sunset boat ride, you still felt out of place. You knew you would no matter what. Even after John had practically begged you like a puppy to join the gang for this rendezvous, promising JJ would be nowhere in sight – it still felt odd and wrong to be there, to be amidst his friends, when all you could think about was Rafe. You were torn away from the thoughts that your brain was creating at the speed of light as your phone chimed.

Unknown: you look so beautiful today.

The screen read a sweet message and you wondered who it was from, it couldn’t be Rafe. If he was going to say something sweet, he wouldn’t text you from a private number. You quickly closed and locked your phone thinking it must be nothing more than a wrong number, even though the compliment gave you the resemblance of butterflies in your gut.

Unknown: don’t ignore me.

This time as your phone chimed, the message changed in tone and you decided to reply – a snarky, sarcastic comment for the person who remained anonymous was what you dished out.

To unknown: It’s hard to reply when I don't know who I’m speaking to.

As quickly as you had hit send, another message appeared in the queue.

Unknown: watch your mouth or I'll gut you like a fish.

You swallowed thickly at the words that littered your screen, unsure of who was behind them. You couldn’t think of anyone who would talk to you like that unless it was one of your boys playing a joke. But quickly pushed away the thought. Surely, they’d never speak to you that way even if they were kidding, or so you hoped.

“Are you alright, y/n?”

John B’s voice echoed against your ears as tears pricked your eyes and panic rose through your chest, the walls of your heart contracting simultaneously, you subconsciously recognized the tells of an anxiety attack creeping its way up your throat. John B’s lack of awareness, lack of knowing you the way Rafe did was just one more reason why you needed to be away from him.

“R-rafe, take me to Rafe. Please.”

You begged and he nodded though reluctant, wanting you to trust him and confide in him the same way that you did Rafe. He wanted you to be his peach, to regard him in your heart the same way you regarded the Cameron boy, though part of him knew it would never happen. Girls like you weren’t meant to end up with guys like him and even if you loved him in the same way he loved you, he knew Rafe Cameron would die before he ever let it happen.

John B barely had time to get the hms pogue adjacent to the Cameron’s dock before you jumped off the ledge, clearing the width between the aluminum and the wood of the pier. You needed Rafe and you needed him now, it left no time for pleasantries and frankly, you didn’t care about the routledge boy enough to provide him with a false sense of comfort, a false sense that you were his when you weren’t. So, you did what you knew how to – you ran. Your feet padded against the wood of the dock as fast as they could, your breath uneven as you made it to the end and scoured the property for your person. He stood by Kelce and Topper at the pool, his tan skin stretched across broad shoulders, muscles contracting as he laughed and sipped from the red solo cup in his hand. You made your way toward him, almost knocking him over as you latched on to him like a child after losing their parents in the grocery store.

“I know those arms, anywhere.”

He chuckled against you, leaning into you as you hugged him from behind. You stilled against him, muscles retracting in relief as just his aura brought you an immeasurable amount of peace. His laughter stopped as he felt tiny drops hit the skin at the middle of his spine and before you could protest he turned around, taking you in. His blue orbs searched you for injury, it wasn’t like you to look so panicked, especially in public settings. This behavior was not like you in any sense and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what was going on. So, he did what he did best. He picked you up, guiding your arms and legs around his neck and torso in a koala like hold and carried you to his bedroom, knowing that whatever was plaguing you couldn’t be shared in front of the other two stooges. As he entered the threshold of his bedroom, he placed you onto the blue satin sheets that you loved so much, the coolness against your skin was already soothing you as Rafe parted your knees and wedged his body between them, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your eyes remained focused on the tan skin of his chest, his pectoral muscles built to such a degree that it made him look like a c-cup. You smiled briefly at the thought.

“Peach, baby, what’s going on?”

He asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing his thumb across the skin of your cheek.

“I-, were you and the boys sending me weird texts earlier?”

You stuttered as you asked, afraid of his answer being yes, but also afraid of it being no. You wanted so badly for it to be a practical joke and for you not to have a reason to be scared.

“No, baby. Why would you ask that?”

You didn’t respond, simply handing over the phone, placing it in his hands and watching as he took in the conversation. His eyes darted back and forth as read the contents of the screen, stopping only when he was finished.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

He questioned, remaining in his spot between your legs.

“I’m fine – that’s the last thing I need to hear right now, Rafe.”

He swallowed thickly before retorting.

“Well, what do you need to hear? What am I supposed to say about this? About you showing up on my doorstep every time you’re in trouble?”

His words stung – he knew they had, shit, they had felt like vomit expelling from him, the twist of his insides after he lurched over the toilet ever present. That’s what he felt as he watched your face contort in sadness.

“I don’t know, tell me this is fake, that it’s a joke, that I don’t have a reason to be scared. I mean, this paired with all the other weird shit, it just, I don’t know, okay? Sorry – I’ll go. I just didn’t know what to do. But, hey – I’ll figure it out.”

You said, swaying on your feet as you stood, preparing to walk away from the room of the boy you loved. Your brain didn’t process any of what he said in normal emotion, it only registered that he was sick of you and you were adding stress to him and that was the last thing you ever wanted to do. He pulled you in by your wrist, making your face collide with the muscles of his chest as he rubbed your hair away from your face and craned his neck to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I want to help you, okay? You are not going to navigate this by yourself, peach. I’d die if something happened to you. Now, I think I may have an idea.”

You pulled your head away from his chest, meeting his eyes with question laced in yours.

“What did you have in mind?”

You asked, moving to sit on the bed again and Rafe followed your lead, plopping down parallel to you before turning to face you.

“Well – it seems like all this stuff is related, that weirdo at your house and these texts. I’m worried someone is stalking you, sweetheart.”

He said, blue eyes boring into yours and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him.

“Stalking? Come on, Rafe – as if. I’m not special enough for someone to stalk me.”

You muttered.

“Peach – yes you are. Just because you can’t see that, doesn’t mean it’s not possible, baby.”

He replied, grabbing your hands in his.

“Okay, so what’s your big idea? I mean what are we supposed to do? We don’t even know who it could be.”

You stated matter-of-factly.

“I think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He replied and you were shell-shocked, the question and confusion written on your face.

“Huh? Like for real?”

You asked.

“I mean – I need to protect you and come on, it’s not so far off for us, is it? The idea of being your fake boyfriend for a while, I mean. No one will come near you if you’re with me, sweetheart and it just means more time with my Georgia peach.”

He said, smiling from ear-to-ear.

“How long are we supposed to keep this up?”

You questioned. ‘Forever, I hope’ he thought as he stared into your sweet face.

“As long as it takes.”

He replied, pushing his thoughts down.

“Okay, but we have to make it look real, Rafe. People will figure it out otherwise, we can’t just act like we usually do.”

You said and he curled his eyebrow upward.

“What do you propose, Peach?”

He asked.

“I mean – we could kiss?”

You said, almost in the form of a question and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. You were shocked, mostly because it felt the way it was supposed to, the way you had always daydreamed about, electricity running from your mouth to the tips of your toes. You pulled away after a moment and looked at him.

“Just practicing.”

He said, a smirk lifting on one side of his mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and wished so badly that one day, this would all be real.

as always, if you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know <3

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melancholymetropolis · 2 years ago

Text

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots.

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on.

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal.

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket.

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame.

I was simply stuck.

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting.

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.”

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace.

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob.

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs.

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out.

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin.

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me.

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him.

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded.

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet.

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning.

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me.

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't.

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance. The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions.

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met.

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy.

I cried when I saw them.

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him.

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality.

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me.

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths.

His thoughts were loud in my mind.

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine.

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth.

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him.

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts.

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.”

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me.

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together.

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month.

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me.

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever.

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.”

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me.

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed.

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia.

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment.

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance.

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock.

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips.

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me.

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck.

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body.

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch.

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face.

Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that.

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended.

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck.

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again.

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan. Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on.

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.”

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly.

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously.

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched.

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine.

I adore you.

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

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Hi! Sorry to disturb. I'm a quite inexperienced writer, I'm trying to write my first long work and I don't want to just get it out and be done with it, I want to put care in it, so your blog has been super helpful for both small tips and for big deals. So I have a doubt and I thought I'd ask you, if you can't or don't want to answer that's fine!

One of my main characters is a singer but most importantly a song writer so the songs she writes really have a meaning with the story and are meant to get a reaction from her counterpart. I tried a few ways but I can't seem to incorporate her singing very well in my pages, how would you go about it? Do you have any tips?

Thank you and have a good days and holidays if you celebrate xx

Hi! Here are some references and tips from various sources I found for you. Use which ones would work best with your specific story, and alter as needed:

Writing Template: Singing Scene

Part 1

What perspective will this be from? The singer or the audience? Maybe both.

There is more to singing than using the voice.

Will the audiences’ emotions be front and center for this scene or will it be the character’s? It doesn’t matter if you are writing first person or second person. The character can show the reader what the audience is thinking based on body language.

If the character is singing alone, the audience can be more than just themselves. It could be a deity they believe in, or a loved one that passed away and is present either in physical spirit or thought. Could be a pet or even nature itself (trees, grass, etc) as the character’s audience. They all would respond in their own ways. Maybe the trees dance in the wind while the character sings a melody. Or the birds and bees join in on the tune.

Part 2

Connect a deep feeling and understanding back to the reader.

Remember, overall experience is more important than mechanics.

What is the song about? What genre? How does it sound? Is it slow or fast? Lighthearted or formal? Does the singer have a high voice or a low one, or a mix?

How does the song make people who hear it feel? Is the singer doing anything else while they sing?

Let’s say the main character has a song stuck in their head. One way to show the reader (if it’s important to the overall plot) is when every time the song gets stuck in the character’s head, the paragraph would stop and a new one would start with the lyrics.

Part 3

Create an emotion profile for why the character is singing

Is there a message you want to convey? This can be shown by how the character sings.

Tone/breathy, maybe the sound of an exasperated sigh would be heard in parts of the singing.

How the character holds tension in the body can really influence the emotion. Are they rigid, loose? Perhaps seemingly overthinking it.

Diction can be shown through how you write the lyrics the character is singing. For example, hard/soft on the consonants using bold letters or capitalization. The character can have pauses and slurring in the singing, shown through the way you write the lyrics.

Breath. Every emotional state has a breathing pattern associated with it. Ways to write breathing for singing would be through body language and onomatopoeia. For example if the character is scared and is hyperventilating: He placed a hand over his heart, barely able to stare into the crowd of onlookers. Wheeze, gasp! Was all the lyrics we heard from him that night”.

Think about the type of song and the genre. For example, if you’re writing about rock music, the instruments will be guitar, drums, piano. So ‘Her voice rose higher, while trying to follow the raspy, intense notes of the musician’s bass.

Is this a new song?

If you’re using well-known songs, include action, internal monologue, and scenery description to avoid a reader skipping over to the actual story.

If a song is new or a unique take, you can paraphrase the lyrics in a way that tells you something relevant to the character or moment.

Example: The goofy man staggered down the street in his drunken stupor singing: “You ma-a . . . blue-eyed girl!” He took another swig from the bottle in his hand. “Do you remember when . . . we used to sing: Oh la la, la la, la la, la la, la te da! Just like that!” He took another swig. “All alone on my own. I thought I saw you the other day. But it was my dreams—” He was silenced by sirens coming from behind him down the alley. He bolted!

Part 4

Create emotion profiles for the song.

Purpose of the song. Is the message in the content of the song or the characters reaction to them?

Songs in fiction have multiple purposes such as giving background details, foreshadow, used as a metaphor, portray emotion or conflict, reflect or mirror events of the story, used for character development, etc. The message you are trying to convey will determine how you write them.

One method is good for when the content of the song is unimportant or secondary to the characters reaction. Simply include a description of the song. Using broad terms, describe the topic and style of the song but keep focus on how it affects the characters.

Part 5

How does it end? Good note or bad? Audience wanting more? Character feeling happier?

Don’t be afraid to end the scene or chapter here.

When it ends, is there thunderous applause?

How are they feeling? What are they thinking? Their posture. Are there any subtle movements in their hands, eyes, and breathing patterns?

After singing the character could simply move on to later that night or the next day. You don’t necessarily have to show what happens right after. It may even make the reader curious. You can show the results of singing throughout the story, for example, if other characters start treating the singing character nicer, or they get a contract deal, or if their depression has subsided. Example:

Intense, was the crescendo as it built to a slow roll that crashed like a great wave into the souls of those that listened. A calming silence fell over the eager audience; they were captivated by the intoxicating tune coming from this slender throat. From the depths of his soul, the lyrics rose and swelled around everyone in that room as if all could feel his misery. In this moment, his pain was their pain and the audience and singer were as one.

Some Personality Traits of Singers

3,088 singers were surveyed to learn what personality traits and interests make them unique.

Singers are artistic and enterprising. They tend to be predominantly artistic individuals, meaning that singers are creative and original and work well in a setting that allows for self-expression. They also tend to be enterprising, which means that they are usually quite natural leaders who thrive at influencing and persuading others. [Using the Holland codes]

The top personality traits of singers are openness and social responsibility. Singers score highly on openness, which means they are usually curious, imaginative, and value variety. They also tend to be high on the measure of social responsibility, indicating that they desire fair outcomes and have a general concern for others. [Using the Big Five]

Character Development through Music

One device that is highly effective in understanding character is music. Music is nearly universal in its influence.

It’s a bit too easy to just answer the question, “What kind of music does my character like?”

More difficult might be, “What kind of music would my character turn off?”

You might think of an entire type of music or, more likely, a specific song. Maybe a song that would break your character’s heart in two at just the first beat.

Think about instances of revealing character traits using music as a way to show your reader more about how your character interacts with the world.

Music can be explored in literature showing us just how responsive this device can be to character.

Our knowledge of character may be deepened by their interaction with music.

How might this work in your own writing?

Try this exercise, using the first few words from Prince’s iconic “Kiss”:

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE BEAUTIFUL…”

Copy this line, including the quotation marks. Unless your character is Prince, write says, or sings, or said, and your character’s name.

Imagine your character speaking these 6 words.

To whom did they say them? Where are they talking? Are they singing at a bar? Or is your scene NOT connected to the reality of this song at all?

You can imagine that your character is the first person to ever say these words to another. Take time to free-write this scene, and see what happens next.

More references:

On Sensory Language ⚜ Word Alternatives: Auditory

Words to Describe Someone's Voice ⚜ Key Musical Terms

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hope this helps. No need to apologise, this was such an interesting request for me to look into. So thanks so much for that & happy holidays to you! <3

#singer #music #writeblr #literature #writing tips #writers on tumblr #writing reference #dark academia #spilled ink #writing advice #writing inspiration #character development #writing prompt #creative writing #on writing #writing ideas #writing resources

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