#visions of temptation 2022

[randonauticrap]

I have no words I'm just FREAKIN' OUT.

To think, Mo, you didn't even want to write this fic but HERE YOU ARE MAKING WAVES 69 FEET HIGH!

"Everything Emma learned about Jin's sex life, she learned against her will." SNTNRSOSIWNDLSKS DEAD.

Also CHEV'S?! THE WAY HE PULLS YOU BACK ONTO HIS FACE?????? AJNRMRRLWAIRNSKSKSK???????????????? AHHHH?????????

And LUKE'S?! JEEZ FUCKIN! AHHHHHHH

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝟔𝟗

↬ 📜 The Belle Covenant, Clause 69: "A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover." Emma initiates 69 with each prince. You know, for political reasons.

Leon x Emma; Chevalier x Emma; Yves x Emma; Nokto x Emma; Licht x Emma; Jin x Emma; Clavis x Emma; Luke x Emma • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: 69 (Sex Position); Oral Sex; Rough Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Bathroom Sex; Gentle Sex; Rough Sex; Deepthroating; Blow Jobs; Face-Sitting; Multiple Orgasms; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex • wordcount: 2,241 • masterlist

a/n: Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that's right, last year's one. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 1: ORAL SEX | SIXTY-NINE

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The Belle Covenant, Clause 69:

"A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover."

"Now, Prince Leon, let's see if you're more of a taker or a giver…"

Propped up on his elbows on the bed, Leon had just told Emma he's hers to play with. He's so casual as ever, always there for her, ready to give a shoulder where she needs it. From how well they clicked it was bound to happen sooner or later, ending up in the same bed. Seeing Emma turn around and straddle his torso, Leon is pretty sure she's taking him for a ride.

Until she gets all comfortable with his cock in her mouth, retaining this position.

Now, Leon is not the one to idly sit and be pleased by someone without returning the gesture. It just doesn't sit right with him, when all it takes is a swift maneuver and Emma's leaking pussy would be right in front of his face and ready to be ravished.

The vigor with which Leon swirls his skilled tongue inside her depths can only be rivaled by the way hers wraps around the girth of his cock, tracing the delicious vein that protrudes on its side. She switches for teasing the slit of his tip, and Leon groans; the pleasure ricocheting right back to her core in the form of a sultry vibration.

"Suck it harder. Damn it, Emma, just like that… I'm going to cum, Emma. Cum with me."

They're locked in this loop of giving and taking all the way until their mutual peak hits. Hard.

Leon surely is a master of this trade, in addition to guiding her and praising her. She hums in bliss and takes a mental note of his skills, for future reference.

Chevalier is a tough nut to crack. First, he needs a good reason to cooperate regarding any of the clauses in the list. Why would he care? Second, he needs a good reason to comply specifically with the absurdish idea that Emma poses about 'testing his justness'. So she gets a little creative and a little mischievous, and gives him the necessary push.

In a little game of (big) cat and mouse, Emma jumps from the sofa to the bed before Chevalier can put his claws on her. Backed against the headboard of the bed, she has nowhere to escape, but the book that started it all remains in a secure hold against her chest.

"I'll give you your precious book back if you give me something in return. Or does the mighty future king of Rhodolite not see it fit to give in order to take?"

"The 'mighty future king of Rhodolite' doesn't fancy anyone touching his property with their dirty little hands," He looms in closer, caging Emma's body with his own, knowingly intimidating her, "And he has nothing to negotiate with thieves."

The book is snatched from her hands without much fight, and Emma sinks further down the headboard in defeat. The wise thing to do would be to retreat and rethink her strategy - and definitely not to try and seduce an angry Chevalier by letting out an accidental whine while she's still trapped sprawled beneath him in his lair.

Chevalier remains there, only raising an eyebrow - he shouldn't be too surprised by her open provocations at this point, but it's like he senses something genuine in her supposed act.

"You're hopeless, simpleton."

A sequence of Emma's half-spoken questions and puzzled sounds is merely background noise to the rapidly changing pace of events, as the big cat in front of her lies down and turns on his back. It's not exactly the equivalent of it trustingly showing its belly for rubs.

Emma's slightly trembling legs are gotten a secure hold of, as Chevalier drags her closer and on top of him - almost trying to be gentle but failing - until she's practically straddling his face.

Her pulse quickens rapidly as if she's been granted a throne she is unworthy of.

Just for tonight, she shuts her eyes and accepts the empowering pleasure it entails.

Sucking on her aroused nub until she sees stars, he almost makes her forget the idea behind this ordeal, until she has to remind herself about working for his pleasure too. Chevalier almost doesn't let her - at first, she thinks it's an additional dragging on of things for him, a bother. Once he lets her play with his intimidatingly big cock, though, it proves to be something different. The prideful second prince catches up with her heightened arousal shockingly quickly. His ministrations become sloppier. Such an exchange of pleasure, Emma concludes, is unfamiliar to him. He masks it very well - because by the time she reaches her own orgasm, it feels euphoric. He gave her a lot, and he took a lot, too.

Yves is almost too pretty right now. Emma laments not having him eat her out in a pose where she can watch his pretty face, his perfect features pressed into her cunt, his cute little nose squished against her clit.

His cupid's bow kissing her glistering, swollen pussy lips.

Yves maneuvers his frame swiftly over her body, just-bathed porcelain skin smelling of expensive oils and silky-to-the-touch caresses ghosting over Emma's equally cared-for body, as they shared intimacies in the bath beforehand. 

Their exchange of pleasure is harmonic; voices joining together in a melody as they moan, aromas entangling in the air and delicate sensations as they roll in the clean, luxurious bedsheets. Yves softly guides Emma's body sideways before laying down the opposite way, muscles relaxing all over, safe for the ones of their sexes which are maddeningly pulsing in a chase towards a mutual peak.

Yves' love would trick you with tasting rigid demand coated with egoism; then reminiscent of a dessert with soft-crème heart, upon a bolder bite you'll discover what having your senses spoiled really feels like.

From someone with a mouth as big as Nokto's, Emma expects nothing but a big performance to come. She's in for a little more than she bargained for, she finds out as soon as her world turns upside down.

Looking at Emma now, Nokto connects the dots rather quickly as to why she's suddenly feeling coquettish like that - lounging on his couch whenever he's around is one thing, but getting so comfy that she's basically dangling her legs over the backrest, her best bedroom eyes following Nokto upside-down… He wonders if his antics are rubbing off her, or if she's giving him a taste of his own medicine. Hands folded casually on her belly, she finally poses the question that's been hanging heavily in the air, while Nokto dresses himself for another night out. It's now or never.

Emma is suddenly the fox's appetizer when he leans down and buries his face between her legs, the hem of her dress conveniently ridden up on her waist as if to clear his way. 

She's never before given a blowjob upside-down but she likes a challenge. Nokto's crouch is right there in front of her face, so she makes quick work of his belt that he hasn't even fastened all the way earlier during his preparations for going out. It works out surprisingly well, a quick and explosively pleasurable deal sealed with a gush of fluid on their tongues.

Nokto works swiftly when there is gain for him, and surprisingly plays fair, too.

Like the carnivore he is deep inside, Licht loves taking his pray to his den. His room is mostly veiled in darkness and Emma's eyes are not well-adjusted to it by the time Licht begins ravishing her, but there is no fear in her heart. His tonguing on her heated core is calculated and it's nothing greater than what her body can take - and it comes naturally to her to want to give him something in return.

They're in no hurry, taking turns pleasuring each other, usually one being breathless and halting ministrations because of those of the other party. Emma feels shy being so vocal with a partner that only occasionally grunts every now and then. His giving is silent but evident and abundant, and she feels like putty in his strong hands. Licht takes long sweeps of his tongue on her sex, dragging her whole body back and forth with the impact, not caring that the bobbing of Emma's head turns sloppier. Once he releases his pent-up desire whole in her mouth, he tells her to spit if she wants - and feels his blood rushing forth hotly when she doesn't. In the much-appreciated post-sex cuddles session afterward, Emma catches a glimpse of a smile and dozes off contently.

Everything Emma learned about Jin's sex life, she learned against her will. Though it would be a lie if she said she wasn't once curious whether the rumors were true.

Her observations so far are that as many women the first prince has taken to bed, he is in the habit of behaving like he hasn't been with one in ages. Paying attention to every naked millimeter of her skin, Jin's hands never stop roaming, pleasuring, loving. He also eats her out as if he hasn't put food in his mouth for decades, she notices - a deep masculine grunt leaving his throat at the first taste of her hot juices on his tongue. He is a big boy who doesn't mind getting dirty, and that might be the best thing about him, as much as Emma refuses to admit. His technique is worked to perfection - the youthfully needy opening act serving just to trick her. It's funny how she attempted to blow him first and then turn it into a hot sixty-nine from there, when in reality he was the one to initiate that. Jin always struck her as the person who likes to sit back in his seat, one hand propping up his chin, one on her head, as he's been serviced. But he is a giver, a damn good giver.

Emma doesn't know why she had expectations of Clavis doing this straightforwardly and fairly, when he's already a well-known menace outside the bedroom. Being naked and open for his cruel teasings, for the touch of those wicked fingers that aim to irritate and to never satisfy, it drives her crazy. Clavis demands to be the one touching her and not the other way around - after all, there are so many ways to play with a bunny like Emma, why limit themselves to some boring position? Clavis has Emma climaxing twice on his fingers before he finally allows her to return some of the pleasure, guiding his flushed tip past her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. She then understands - for all Clavis is worth, he's prone to becoming an absolute mess once pleasured. The little delicious gasp falling from his beautiful curved lips soon turns into a hearty moan, laced with desperateness and lust as he pushes Emma's head to urge her to take more of his cock inside her tight, warm throat. His little plan of turning her into a pliant, overstimulated pile of limbs is unsuccessful when he possesses a voice so erotic it sees her hunger awaking once again, head full of thoughts about riding him until sunrise. In addition, Clavis seems to enjoy the rougher manner of Emma seating her dripping cunt directly on his face, leaving him almost no room to breathe. Maybe riling her up was all in favor of receiving her harsh command of "Shut up already and pleasure me properly!"

The chances of coming with the upper hand when bargaining with Clavis are low, but the headaches are always worth it in the end.

Luke should have been the gentle giant who lets Emma catch a breather even in moments of burning lust. That's how she always imagined him to be with a lover - barely-there touches exchanged between relaxed sighs, lying down in some secluded napping spot that would once again serve its true purpose once every last drop of pleasure is squeezed out of their bodies.

Well. While it does sound good enough to Emma, she wouldn't trade her current position for anything in the world.

Adrenaline rushing all through her body, Emma's heart is about to leap out of her chest with the sheer lasciviousness of how Luke has her right now.

Someone as tall and strong as him, she should've prepared herself to be putty in his hands. To be folded in positions she couldn't paint with her imagination… or, like right now, to be picked up with her ass up and held in the air as Luke shamelessly devours her cunt.

With pleasure rendering her silly, she can't possibly hold back from attempting to suck his cock while in this position, even if its massiveness in its full erect glory intimidated her at first. For the timid, vanilla experience she expected, fucking like animals is the last thing she saw coming from Luke - and she suddenly finds himself at his mercy as he has complete control over her body.

The aftercare is more reminiscent of her initial thoughts, and coming down from her high never felt better. Once you awaken the slumbering monster inside the youngest prince of Rhodolite, you're in for more than you bargained for.

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[beefromanoff]

Tempting Fate Ch. 1

summary: a flashback to 1940's Brooklyn, 2022 Boston, and an introduction to our leading lady, Evie Langston.

author's note: OKAY GUYS, you asked for this! the post with my little drabble and idea for a Stucky x Reader fic got so much love that here I am. fair warning if you haven't read my other works (which you should) I LOVE to set a scene and I love a slow burn. I'll definitely get to the good parts earlier in this story than in my other two, but this is going to be spicy AND plot driven.

masterlist

tag list: tag list: @yiiiikesmish @sunflower1290 @barnescamboy @thedisc0spider @bitchy-bi-trash @kulteule @kandis-mom @i-mushi @unknown-writings

Chapter 1

1940s, Brooklyn

The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and the scent of popcorn. Brightly colored banners flapped in the breeze as children ran around, and the mechanical whirring and dinging of carnival games echoed through the street. Among the bustling crowd, three friends stood out.

Ginny Langston was the center of attention, her auburn hair catching the light. She always was. Even at sixteen, her features were striking, catching stares from grown men passing by. Unbeknownst to Ginny, however, who only had eyes for her two best friends. Her stomach hurt from laughing so hard as she watched Steve Rogers attempt to win a prize at one of the booths. Their best friend, Bucky Barnes, stood beside her, a smirk on his face.

“Alright, Stevie, that was my last quarter.” He winked. “Try not to shit the bed again.”

“Bucky!” Ginny giggled, smacking his arm. “I believe in you, Stevie!”

Steve blushed, his determination clear. “I’ll get it right this time, just watch.” Eyes narrowed in concentration, he pinched the dart between his fingers and let it fly. With a loud pop the balloon on the other side of the booth burst, sending the trio into an eruption of cheers.

“Yay, Stevie!” She jumped down from her seat on the edge of the booth, bouncing over to Steve. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling his skin flush. “Can I pick? Oh, please let me pick!” 

“Be my guest,” He gestured to the rack of stuffed animals, cheeks still pink from her embrace. 

After selecting a floppy pink stuffed bunny, Ginny skipped over. Her eyes sparkled as she looked between the two boys. “How lucky am I,” she drawled playfully, “To have not one, but two handsome fellas to win me prizes?” To emphasize her point, she waggled the bunny and the stuffed bear Bucky had won by knocking down a tower of bottles with a baseball.

The boys shared a look as she linked one arm through each of theirs and led them further into the fair. The same understanding they’d had for the five years of their friendship passed between them. They both adored Ginny, but neither wanted to ruin the bond they had with her—or each other. 

So, despite the chemistry, despite the daydreams…they resisted temptation. It worked well, their trio. Friendship before anything. The laughter and memories they shared didn’t seem to be possible with anyone else. If this was all they ever were to each other –– best friends –– none of them would mind. But that didn’t stop the occasional late night thought from creeping into one of their heads…wondering what would happen if that invisible line in the sand were ever crossed.

Fall Semester, 2022

Boston

The ballroom was a vision of opulence, adorned with glittering chandeliers and rich, velvety drapes. MIT’s alumni gala was in full swing, a celebration of the brightest minds and most generous benefactors. The room buzzed with conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the beats of a live jazz band. Alumni, staff, and donors alike mingled with current students. It was an exclusive event for students to be invited to, needing a recommendation from a professor to be added to the guest list. At one of the most prestigious schools in the country, the competition never stopped. Evie Langston had been thrilled when her invite arrived, especially considering she was only a sophomore. This event was typically reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students, with only a handful of younger students having received an invite ever. 

She had been thrilled, but not surprised. 

Since her arrival in Boston, she’d been making waves. Big, tsunami-esque waves. 

For the child-prodigy community, she’d seemingly come out of nowhere. She graduated high school on time, not early. Her parents were insistent that she make the most of her high school experience, maintaining friendships, attending prom, walking with her classmates across the stage. They’d given her every opportunity to learn and grow, but not at the expense of her childhood. She’d gotten early acceptance to MIT as a freshman in high school after winning an engineering contest with such prestige that she was immediately contacted by a patent lawyer to protect her innovation. It was her first patent filed. She was 14 years old. 

At MIT, Evie had quickly distinguished herself as one of the brightest minds on campus. Her freshman year, she had been part of a team that developed a revolutionary nanotechnology application for medical devices, leading to a paper published in a leading scientific journal. Her contribution was so significant that she was invited to speak at several conferences, which she politely declined, allowing an older member of the team to represent them. It wasn’t that she was opposed to speaking, it’s just that she felt like there were better uses of her time than kissing ass and galavanting around a room full of the most pompous, self-important assholes of all time. Her name was listed first on the publication, and that was enough of an ego stroke for her. Especially since it drove the rest of the all-male team absolutely insane. 

Her sophomore year had only seen her rise higher. She had spearheaded a project that created a new type of lightweight, high-strength material, earning her a prestigious research grant and the attention of several major textile companies. Her professors often remarked on her uncanny ability to solve problems that stumped even the most seasoned researchers. She had an intuitive grasp of complex systems, a knack for seeing connections others missed, and a relentless drive that kept her working long after everyone else had called it a night. Plus, her ability to pivot between specialties like she was switching tabs on a browser was unheard of. She could go from artificial intelligence programming to biochemical engineering to robotics and not bat an eye.

Outside the classroom, she balanced her rigorous academic schedule with her job as a bartender. It was a role that seemed incongruous for someone of her intellect but was, in fact, a deliberate choice. It kept her grounded, connected to a world beyond equations, experiments, and giant fucking egos. It was there, in the bustling atmosphere of the bar, that she honed her people skills, learning how to read people, how to manage conflict, and how to charm even the most difficult customers. She loved being around her peers at MIT, the shared interest and the constant desire for progress, but she couldn’t stand their larger-than-life self image. Typically, she was opposed to sweeping generalities, but after a year and a half at this school, she felt it was a damn near foolproof hypothesis. 

So, to the judgment of her classmates, she became a bartender. In an environment where everyone was either funded by the deep pockets of their families or a hefty scholarship, she was one of the few students who worked a job. Let alone such an unimpressive job. Ironically, the scorn of her peers made her love the job even more. The fact that they were losing grant money to a girl alone was enough to make most of them need to up their dosage, but a girl who spent her evenings serving up gin and tonics in a low cut tank top? Berzerk. 

The best part? She didn’t even need the money. 

Her parents were upper middle class, back in the midwest. Her dad was a partner at an accounting company and her mom had stayed home with her and her siblings. They’d spent summers on vacation, not the Hamptons or yacht-style vacations that some of her classmates had been raised on, but nice vacations nonetheless. They were more than comfortable. So when she’d sold her first patent in high school, her parents had put her earnings into a trust. One she could access when she was officially out of college. They’d had every intention of funding her education, but it was clear they’d never have to break out their checkbooks. She’d been offered a full ride to just about any school in the country. 

There was only ever one option for her, though. The alma mater of the one and only Tony Stark. The Da Vinci of our time. The merchant of death. Iron Man. She’d wanted to be him since she was old enough to find his interviews on YouTube on the family computer. Much to her parents’ chagrin of course, who’d hoped their nine year old daughter would have found a more…palatable role model. It was he who inspired her love of engineering and innovation. It was he who taught her to be unapologetically confident. It was he who caused her to hang an MIT pennant on her wall and refuse to take it down. Even to this day, it hung above her espresso machine in her little apartment above the bar she worked at. 

It was he who delivered the most kick-ass, jaw-dropping, profane keynote address earlier that day. She’d been front row for the whole thing, hanging on his every word. It was her intention to speak to him after the address, but he’d been swarmed by overzealous ass-kissers that she didn’t feel like wading through. She’d seen him up close, and that was good enough for her. It was enough to make her want to get back in the lap and continue her work on nanotechnology right that second, but she knew she couldn’t pass up the gala. Not when her professors had personally advocated for her invitation. 

So, here she was. Evie stood near the edge of the room, her eyes scanning the crowd. She had dressed immaculately for the occasion, wearing a sleek, midnight blue cocktail dress that hugged her figure and highlighted her fiery red hair, which she’d styled into soft waves that cascaded down her back. Occasionally, a professor would usher some big-name investor over to her, making introductions and raving about her brilliance. So she would smile, put on her best impression of someone who gave a shit about their company and what their mission was, and charm her way through the rest of the conversation. At the end, she’d add their business card to the collection piling up in her purse, never to be looked at again. 

There was only one job she was interested in taking after college, and if that wasn’t on the table, she’d start her own damn tech company. 

She took a sip of her sparkling water, glancing around the room at the clusters of people deep in meaningless conversation. A commotion towards the middle of the room drew her attention. Her gaze landed on Tony Stark, who was making his way through the crowd with his usual effortless charm, evading those who wanted everything from a selfie to a donation to a job. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, a whiskey glass clutched in one hand and a cigar in the other, openly defying the no smoking rule. 

Looking around, Tony spotted her, his eyes locking onto her bright red hair and striking features once again. With a roguish grin, he made his way over to her, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease and a dismissive attitude. As he approached, Evie straightened her posture, her heart pounding in her chest. No fucking way. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Tony said, his voice dripping with charm and mischief as he looked her up and down. She could have sworn she felt his eyes on her body like they were hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier at the keynote. Front row, right?”

Evie nodded, a half-smile playing on her lips. “Good memory. It was an incredible speech, Mr. Stark. Truly inspiring.”

“Please, call me Tony,” he replied with a grin. “And might I say, you’re a breath of fresh air here with all these bad toupees and escapees from mom’s basement. The red hair, this dress—” He looked her over again. “Quite the combination. You certainly know how to make an impression.”

Evie smiled, meeting his flirtation with poise. “Why, thank you, Tony. I’ve always believed in standing out rather than blending in.”

“Well, you’re definitely standing out,” Tony said, his eyes lingering on her. “So! What’s a dazzling individual like yourself doing at a place like this? I’d imagine there are more lively places to spend your Friday night than this snoozefest.”

“They say this is the event to be at if you want to shake the right hands.” She offered a teasing smile. 

“How’s that been going for you?” 

“I’ve shaken a lot of hands tonight, but not the one I came here for.” A coy smile. 

He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, assessing her. “Would I be living up to the egomaniac allegations if I assume you’re talking about me?”

“Yes, but you’d also be correct.” 

He grinned, shifting his drink to his left hand and offering her his right. “Tony Stark, Owner of Stark Industries. Benefactor and celebrated alum of this fine institution. Patron of the arts. Not really, but it sounded like it fit.” 

“Evie Langston,” Another small smile. “I’m a sophomore, studying engineering, but having a hard time narrowing down a specialty.”

“Engineering, huh? A woman after my own heart,” Tony said, clearly impressed. “Wait, Langston, Langston…you were the one who filed a patent for that new material. What do you call it?”

“Nanoflex.” Evie took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his.

“Nanoflex, right, that’s it. I tell you what, you’ve been giving a lot of my engineers hell these past few months.” 

“Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Unfortunately yes, it is so. I’ve had my whole team working on an alternative material for us to use in the manufacturing of combat suits and after months of research and resource allocation, and way more money than I should have funneled into it –– they’re still lightyears behind you.” He gave her a mock-irritated look. “And you, Evie Langston, hold the patent for the thing I’ve had the brightest minds in the industry working tirelessly on. To no avail or benefit to me.” 

“Would you like me to apologize?” 

“I’d like you to come work for me.” His voice was decisive. “Say the word, I’ll fire the whole lot of them and you can take the whole lab. Seriously, paint it pink, hang up a boy band poster, I don’t give a shit. I’ve gotta have you.” 

She ignored the way her stomach flipped at his words. “Tempting…as that may be, I’d like to finish my education first.” 

He leaned in closer. “Don’t tell me you’re really learning from these yahoos. When I was here I felt like I should take advantage of the office hours just to teach my professors a thing or two about their subject matter.”

Evie laughed. “It’s not so bad. I’ve always had a difficult time finding things that challenge me. This isn’t much different.” She waved a hand. “At least they can throw a party.” 

“Oh, sweet Evie,” He scoffed. “Let me court you. Professionally, of course. Unless you’re open to other possibilities––kidding, I’m not kidding.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at his candor and casual demeanor. He was funnier in person than in the interviews she’d all but committed to memory. “Come to New York, I’ll send the jet for you, let me show you what we’re all about. I’ll show you a real laboratory, show you what could be yours. While we’re at it, I’ll show you a real party, too. Unless things have changed here, the parties could be confused for a lively wake.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, this is pretty much exactly the scenario I’ve been manifesting for the past decade, but what’s in this for you? Something tells me you don’t come here to recruit talent.” 

“No, I come here because my delightful CEO, Ms. Pepper Potts, threatens to donate my vintage car collection to a museum if I don’t show up every year.” He shrugged, sipping his drink. “As for what’s in it for me, that’s easy. Either you find me delightfully charming and decide to remind me why smart girls are the freakiest in the sack, or you fall in love with the endless resources and free reign over innovation and decide to come work for me. Seems like a win-win situation.”

Evie grinned, sipping her drink to hide the flush in her cheeks. She wasn’t a stranger to being prepositioned, but by Tony Stark? The temptation knotted in her stomach and she was grateful she’d opted for sparkling water, rather than something that might impair her judgment further. 

“Deal.” 

“Deal?” 

“Deal,” She laughed. “I’ll hear you out. After all, it’s a win-win, right?” 

“Every bit as smart as you’re cracked up to be.” He gestured to her almost empty drink. “What are you drinking? Next round is on me.”

“I’m not drinking, actually.” She held the glass up. “Club soda.” 

“Straight edge?”

“Wanted to keep a clear mind, you know, in case I met someone…important.” Evie smirked. 

“What a shame.” He downed the rest of his drink. “Well, the drinks here blow anyways. You’d think with all the donor money, they’d be able to afford top shelf, but I guess not. You happen to know if that old bar on McClaren is still open?” 

“It is very much open, at least it was when I finished my shift last night.” She grinned at his double take. 

“Woah, woah. Wait. You’re telling me you hold a patent that many interested parties, myself included, would pay well into the seven-figure range for, and you’re moonlighting as a bartender?”

“Something like that.” 

“You are full of surprises, Ms. Langston.” 

“You don’t know the half of it, Mr. Stark.” 

“Well, forgive me for being so forward, but if I stay at this party one more minute then I’m at severe risk of becoming clinically depressed and doing something destructive.” He held his arm out. “Care to join me for an after party, hopefully with fewer sticks-in-asses?” 

“Lead the way.” She took his arm and followed him towards the side door, fully aware of what people would say when they saw the pretty redhead leaving on the arm of the womanizing billionaire. 

Let them talk. 

Leaving with Tony Stark turned into one of the best decisions of her college career. His driver, a man aptly named Happy, was waiting for them outside. They’d made the short drive across town to The Bostonian, or The Bos, as the locals so affectionately called it. The champagne they’d drank on the way over probably cost more than the whole stock of liquor at the bar. When they arrived at the curb, Happy had rushed around to open the door for them. Downing the rest of the glass, Evie savored the feeling of warmth bubbling up in her stomach as she strode through the oh-so-familiar doors, Tony right behind her. 

When she walked in, she saw her best friend, Jade, right in the thick of the Friday evening rush. Flirting with a customer as she popped the lids off of two beers for another, she was a natural. The kind of bartender that every regular had a crush on. Her attention flicked to the door, where she clocked Evie and Tony right behind her. Recognition, confusion, then excitement all flashed across her face. 

“What’s up, E!” She yelled over the clamor. A handful of regulars turned their attention to her, whistling at her evening attire. It was a far cry from the jeans and tank top she usually wore, but judging from the tips she made, no one was complaining about her standard uniform. 

As they strode further into the bar, all attention turned from Evie to Tony. A slow chant of “Iron Man! Iron Man!” broke out around the crowded room, with Tony not even trying to look modest. After a few moments, he raised his hands in the air to quiet everyone down. 

“Alright, alright, I know you all probably think that if you flatter me, I’ll whip out my card and buy a round of shots for everyone,” He gave a disapproving look around the room, then reached in his lapel pocket. “...and I will.”

The room erupted into thunderous cheering, with the Iron Man chant coming back in full swing. Tony put his hand on Evie’s lower back, guiding her through the chaos to the bar. Two regulars immediately vacated their seats, clapping Tony on the back. 

Jade put two shot glasses down in front of them, leaning over the bar to give a generous view down her shirt. She was the one who’d taught Evie that if she wanted to make double the tips, leave the bra at home. It seemed that tonight was a night she wanted to make double the tips. 

“Now, Mr. Stark, with all bar-wide orders, there is a mandatory fifty percent tip included for the bartender.” She winked, sliding his glass across the table. 

“Only fifty?” He made a face, downed the shot with zero reaction, and met her gaze again. “You can have whatever tip you want, and that’s not limited to just cash.” 

She smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Evie rolled her eyes, grinning at Jade’s shameless flirting before downing her own shot. She sucked the lime to take the edge off, but her eyes still watered. 

“Alright kiddo, this is what happens when you roll with me.” Tony squeezed her shoulder before signaling for another round. “Consider this the beginning of your official Stark industries recruitment period.” 

______

The next morning, Evie met Jade for their usual Saturday morning walk to their favorite coffee shop. When Evie took the job at The Bos, Jade had been a welcome bonus. She wasn’t a student at MIT, despite being pretty smart. She’d grown up incredibly wealthy, definitely the Hamptons and yacht type. Her family had pushed her toward Ivy League education, toward the path of marrying whichever eligible bachelor was best suited to take over her father’s hedge fund one day. She told her family she was attending Harvard, faked a transcript whenever she needed to, and blamed her lack of contact on how inundated with her studies she was. Evie had asked her once what she planned to do in two years when her family expected to attend her graduation, and she’d simply shrugged and said she’d figure it out. 

She was a breath of fresh air in comparison to everyone who took themselves way too fucking seriously. Having Harvard and MIT in the same city often felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the atmosphere, being stored up in the massive heads of all those that studied there. 

The walk was later than usual, with the sun already high in the sky. Last night’s escapades had stretched well into the night, with Evie ultimately thankful they’d been at the bar she lived above, as she stumbled up the steps at an unholy hour. When she’d woken up this morning, her head was pounding and she was still in her cocktail dress. Even now, in her crewneck and sweatshorts, she could feel the ghost of the corset’s boning pressing into her. 

Evie yawned, stretching her arms above her head as they walked. "I can't believe how late we stayed out. My head is still spinning."

Jade grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Yeah, but it was worth it. I haven't had that much fun in ages. Tony Stark sure knows how to liven up a place."

Evie laughed, shaking her head. "He's definitely a character. Ordering shots for the entire bar? He definitely lived up to his reputation."

“Oh, he absolutely did.” Jade winked and looped her arm through Evie’s as they walked. 

Evie raised an eyebrow. "Did I miss something when I went up to bed?"

Her grin widened. "Let's just say, Tony Stark is very generous in more ways than one."

"Jade, you did not!" She burst out laughing, shaking her head.

Jade shrugged, looking pleased with herself. "Hey, a girl’s gotta eat."

“I saw the tip jar before we even sat down, you’re not in danger of starving anytime soon.” 

“Hey, he said I could have whatever tip I wanted.” She bumped Evie’s hip with her own. “I just happened to want a big one.” 

“Jesus Christ, Jade,” She pretended to cover her ears. “At least wait until I’m not fucking hungover and nauseous.” 

“Fine, get your little foo-foo croissant, but then I’m sparing no details.” 

They reached the coffee shop and ordered their usuals, then found a quiet spot outside to sit and enjoy their drinks. 

Evie took a sip of her coffee, feeling life slowly coming back to her, even as Jade told a story so salacious she felt slightly guilty for listening to it in the daylight. "Well, I’m glad you had a good time. It sounds like he exceeded expectations."

“You could say that,” Jade took a bite of Evie’s croissant. “It doesn’t hurt that my father absolutely despises him. Not that he’ll ever know, of course, but it made my night that much more enjoyable.” 

Shaking her head, Evie took the pastry back. “Daddy’s little law student, hard at work.” 

“Something like that. Anywho, why don’t you tell me why the hell you showed up at the bar with Tony Stark in the first place?” 

“Well, we met at the gala, we chatted, long story short –– he offered me a job.”

Jade nearly choked on her coffee. "What? Are you serious?"

Evie grinned. "Yeah, he was familiar with my work on Nanoflex and offered me a job on the spot. I said I preferred to finish school first, but he told me to consider my Stark Industries recruitment to have officially begun."

Jade's jaw dropped. "Evie, that’s amazing! But wait, why the hell wouldn’t you go now? Don’t tell me that piece of paper really means that much to you. You’re basically already a bazillionaire, you don’t need to pander for funding like the rest of those assholes do.” 

Evie chuckled. "I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want to rush things. No, I don’t really need the degree, I suppose. I know my parents will be so excited to come up for a graduation, to tell their friends their daughter graduated from MIT, blah blah blah. They’ve always been so pro-living life. If I drop out of college to go to work, even at my dream job, my mom will lose so much sleep thinking I’m chained to a desk slaving away for the rest of time. Plus, everything I made before I was eighteen is in a trust I can only access if I actually graduate. So, here I am.” She elbowed Jade. “Plus, is it really so bad to keep slinging drinks with you for another two years?” 

“No, no it is not.” Jade raised her coffee cup. “To Evie Langston, genius, future Stark Industries standout, mediocre bartender, and the best wingwoman a girl could ask for.” 

Evie raised her coffee cup, laughing. 

“I swear, Eves, no one is better at getting what they want than you. I don’t know what kind of witchcraft you’re practicing, but I want in.” 

“I’ll bring my spellbook to the bar tonight.” She winked. 

Present Day

Evie stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the collar of her blazer. Her vibrant red hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, the kind that gave you a splitting headache by lunchtime. Knowing she’d regret it later, she doubled down on her chosen hairstyle, knowing it accentuated her cheekbones. Yet another gift bestowed upon her through the gene pool, along with her green eyes, now sparkling with anticipation. Today was the day she’d start her new job at Stark Industries. Today was the day that years –– decades of her hard work would come to fruition. 

All the years being ahead in school, seeking a challenge and never quite finding it. Years of boredom and near stifling education, causing her to get into some trouble. MIT had pushed her just enough to keep her mind occupied, and once she’d officially received her offer from Stark Industries during her sophomore year, the rest of her education had been a formality leading up to this moment.

Now –– just as he’d promised two years ago, there was a job waiting for her after graduation. She’d walked in her ceremony just a week prior, insisting on starting her job right away. The only reason she’d allowed a week in between was to fly home and humor her mother with an over the top graduation party, and then settle into this new apartment just two blocks away from Stark Tower. It was still somewhat sparse, not quite lived-in. The problem with luxury apartments is that they always felt too clinical, too impersonal. A little part of her felt nostalgic for the little apartment she’d lived in above the bar back in Boston, the owner of The Bos giving her a break in rent since she bartended part time. It was small, cramped, and always had a lingering liquor smell wafting up through the floor, but it was the first place she’d lived in on her own. This new apartment was about ten times the size of that little shoebox, but lacked the charm. She was somewhat new to the level of income she’d found herself bringing in, between the numerous patents she’d sold and the consulting gigs she’d taken throughout college, and finally having access to her trust now that her degree was finalized. Plus, with the Stark Industries salary, she was bringing in more money than she knew what to do with. She made a mental note to hire an interior designer and pick up an extra large coffee on her way to the office.

Meandering around the room, she put gold hoops in her ears, pulled her purse onto her shoulder, and slid her laptop into her bag. Behind her, the phone buzzed on her nightstand. She picked it up, a smirk forming as she read the message from Tony Stark.

Ready to knock their socks off, Red? Just remember, no blowing up the lab on your first day.

Evie typed back quickly, grinning. No promises, Stark. Hope your insurance is comprehensive.

She took a deep breath, giving herself a final once-over. With a confident smile, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. As she locked up, she tried her best not to smile like an idiot.

[acre-of-wheat]

Everyone ready for an unhinged theory about The Gales from Willow 2022?

So obviously they’re a dark mirror for our protagonists, and they function like a lot of teams of baddies in media-- they tie up each character in combat scenes by either having skills that subvert what the heroes are good at, or are simply just better at the same skills the heroes have.

Have a fast and dexterous fighter like Kit? Throw the Scourge at her and it overpowers anything she throws at it. Have a knight commander in full armor? Toss the Lich at him and have it bamf out of existence every time he swings his sword at it.

But I think there’s more to them than being battle foils for the characters. When Elora and Kit are hemmed in by the Gales and Airk, he tells them that the Gales are, “not what you think they are.”

So much of Willow has to do with the past, and choices, visions and alternate futures, recursions and cursed blood. I think that the Gales actually are our heroes, from a time when they gave into the Crone’s temptations.

Spoilers under the cut.

The Lich / Graydon Hastur

There’s a lot going on with Graydon.

First, his scar. I think it’s pretty obvious that there’s something magic going on here, and my guess is that it is a seal meant to prevent whatever possessed Graydon in the first place from popping out again.

I’m going to hazard a guess that whatever is still inside him is where his magic comes from. Magic apparently comes in several colors, but it does seem to at least partially relate to who is casting it, and what the spell is.

Willow and Elora’s natural colors are green, which you can see in the training montages and in Elora’s battle with the crone. Red appears to be pretty obviously bad.

Something happens to Elora’s magic color when she casts a Nekotic spell the Crone taught her though. The color turns darker, and goes blue.

Graydon’s “natural” spell color seems to be purple, and it doesn’t change based on what he casts, even when he fights the Crone and uses a spell that sounds very Nekotic.

I think it’s only a matter of time before the influence of the Wyrm makes Graydon’s spell work go fully red.

I also think his scar/seal is spreading. During the trek across the shattered sea, Graydon begins to learn magic. We know from Willow that magic takes a toll on the body, and we see that a bit with Graydon during a conversation with Elora.

She tells him not to scratch at something, and Graydon pulls his shirt aside to look, very carefully not revealing what it is. It’s worth noting that this is not on the side that he was injured on, so it’s not that “acting up.” Instead, I think it’s the seal spreading as he uses more and more magic, thinning the line between him and whatever possessed him.

If the scar continues to spread, perhaps Graydon might come to look like the Lich that we know-- covered completely in scar tissue.

The Doom / Jade Claymore

This is the one that initially got the gears turning, and all because of the weapons involved.

Throwing stars are only used by two characters in the show, and it seems like such an odd choice. Not daggers, axes, or javelins, but throwing stars. The Bone Reavers and the Tir Asleen knights don’t seem to use them, so they’re not a cultural practice that Jade might be familiar with. They aren’t used in the original movie either. Jade uses them once in battle, and then once during a training scene which doesn’t seem to have any story significance other than to remind us that she has them.

The only other character to use such a distinctive weapon is the Doom, when attacking the silt sleigh.

Because we’re talking about weapons, it’s worth noting that the Doom dual wields metal whips. Until the last episode, the only one of our heroes to dual wield her weapons is Jade, when she uncouples her sword from its staff/sheath

Speaking of distinctive, the Doom’s dark metal face plate is pretty unique, but we do know another character who wears a face mask into battle-- a battle that took some of Jade’s innocence with it.

I also really like the symbolism of the Doom’s first fight being with Kit and Sorsha, the very people Jade is most adamant about protecting.

The Dag / Kit Tanthalos

This one feels like a fairy-tale curse. What does Kit’s dream mother offer her? Freedom, a chance to go wherever she wants. In the usual wicked twist of irony, why not make that freedom both symbolic and literal by transforming her into a bird creature? Rootless, homeless, chasing after who she used to be and the girl she used to love.

The Scourge / Thraxus Boorman

This one doesn’t have much to go on--  they’re both tall, beefy dudes? The only thing that might be symbolic is that we know Boorman would rather jump off the edge of the world than have an intimate conversation-- what better way to avoid intimacy than to have a spiked cage around your head?

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

Could it be?!

xxsycamore finally, finally beginning with the fics from kinktober 2022?

This first fic has been in the works ever since I got the idea 13 months ago. I usually stop thinking about a fic as soon as I can write it down and post it, in a few hours. This I had to reconstruct whole twice which I absolutely hate, I realized I didn't like the idea even afterwards, and it was genuinely a pain to complete. AND I'm still wondering if I should divide it into two separate posts which also bothers me.

And I love it so much nonetheless.

Also in this excerpt from September 2022 why does it seem like I used a style I don't use anymore?! It's so elegant somehow...

Yves' love would trick you with tasting rigid demand coated with egoism; then reminiscent of a dessert with a soft-crème heart, upon a bolder bite you'll discover what having your senses spoiled really feels like.

I'm really out of touch with my writing these days 😭 I'll do my best not to apologize for the long wait in the author's note on each individual request as I'm sure some of you would love to scold me for apologizing but.... okay, then let's say im extremely happy and proud that im finally doing this.

Visions of Temptation 2022, day 1: sixty nine position, coming soon...

[randonauticrap]

Listen @ana-thedaydreamer , I think about this piece of art way more than is realistically acceptable for the state this economy is in. I just want you to know how brilliant it is, and not only am I ...... affected by it in lots of ways, I am truly amazed by your incredible talent!!!

(And I greatly resonate with your taste in princes)

Just wanted you to know how awesome I think it is and you are!

Here is my entry for #Visions of Temptation 2022

Here I am, joining the event again 🥺🫶

Warning: 17+

Character: Jin Grandet from Ikemen Prince (I’ve always wanted to lewd this man 🥹🥹🥹🥹)

Tagging @xxsycamore @kissmetwicekissmedeadly for creating such an event for us ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[killdozer-chimp]

time

Time is a great beast.

With trodding hooves and scratching claws

With a wild mane and matted fur.

Upon its skin, too small to see, we lay.

Our weight does not go unnoticed.

Time drags us forward, one step at a time,

Shuddering and creaking.

Bone grinds against bone, claws dig into the hard earth

If Time had a face perhaps more pity could be spared.

But alas, our world affords no such whimsy.

It remains faceless.

Void.

Blank.

Time takes a step forward

On September 21 2022 I tried to take my own life

Time stops for no one. Even as your vision starts to dim, as the leather cuts into your

neck, time plods forward.

And as long as you know it’s still trudging on, you’re still here.

Time takes a step forward

The next morning I wouldn’t get out of bed

I was admitted to the hospital

Then the inpatient

And soon I found myself in the desert.

Time takes a step forward

In the Bible, Jesus lives in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights,

Tempted and plagued by the devil the whole time.

I believe in no such gods.

Time takes a step forward

Every day I woke up on my foam mattress

Ate dirty oatmeal

And plodded on.

One foot after another

Shuddering, creaking

My own Sisyphean task

My own Temptation

Time takes a step forward

In many ways I paralleled time

Its toil became too familiar.

Every night,

When I would pass beyond

I would dream that my parents came to take me home.

To save me, to relieve me of my burden.

Every morning when I woke, when the illusion ended,

I would feel the smallest pang of hurt.

Time takes a step forward

My temptation was ever present.

In the sharp rocks that lay on the ground

In the rusty ranching wire left discarded in bushes

In the seemingly infinite desert

Full of places to hide

Time takes a step forward

Every day I wished time would end

That some endless wormhole would swallow me whole

That my consciousness could end without me ever being aware of it

That I could cease to be and never have to question what it means to be in the first place

Time takes a step forward 

The human experience is more shared than we think

Change is promised, we hit our lows, we don’t change.

We break down, cry, compose ourself in the morning for work.

Because that’s the only option we have

The only thing we know

Time takes a step forward 

Yet as much as we say things can’t go on like this they do. 

Time drags on, even as its skin falls off bone, as tendon breaks down and tender muscles ripples with anguish beneath skin stretched thin

The beast sputters, chugging on like a broken locomotive. 

Sometimes it stumbles under its own weight, but never falls.

Time takes a step forward 

As it shuffles forward it tows behind a plough.

This plough turns over the earth, shuffling into the ground what has been.

Places where once life was lived. 

Where people laughed, cried, loved, lost, forgave, forgot, remembered, cared, mourned, lived, died.

A bed that was shared

A table that was eaten at

A photo of a loved one

A birthday card

Tilled into the primordial sands 

Time takes a step forward

People live in time. 

It’s a prerequisite.

We know it exists because we live in it, but time aware of our presence?

Does it exist only because we perceive it too?

When we are all gone, will the beast carry on?

Is the time experienced by us, by me, right here and now the same time that my grandparents experienced? 

What about those before them? 

Time takes a step forward 

Will the beast ever tire?

It matters not.

For now I exist, my highs and lows, 

My breaths in, and breaths out.

My loves and losses.

Time takes a step forward

And the beast has no destination.

Its toil is uphill.

And still it shudders forward. 

Matted hair clings to grey skin.

Cartilage whines under the load of infinity.

Joints crack and squeak and bones scrape.

Like an engine running on fumes, it jolts and lilts, barely moving on.

Yet it does. 

And always will.

For me and for you.

For ever and for always.

[celibibratty]

Músicas de 2022

❤turma da mônica - samba do fruto proibido

❤SALES - pope is a rockstar

❤avril lavigne - innocence

❤creamy - do you think i'm pretty

❤man overboard - how to hide your feelings

❤denzel curry, gizzle, bren joy (arcane) - dynasties & dystopia

❤miyavi & PVRIS(arcane) - snake

❤hoobastank - crawling in the dark

❤zion and lennox ft daddy yankee - yo voy

❤PVRIS - monster

❤the kid laroi ft justin bieber - stay

❤4*town - U know what's up

❤ALEXANDROS - mosquito bites

❤bleach live action movie OST by yutaka yamada - main theme

❤willow smith - transparent soul

❤fito blanko - pegadito suavecito

❤eddy lover - rueda, rueda

❤daddy yankee - ¿qué tengo que hacer?

❤daddy yankee - la despedida

❤hoobastank - inside of you + (acoustic version)

❤AFI - girl's not grey

❤story of the year - and the hero will drown

❤story of the year - the antidote

❤patrick & jay chou - try

❤Big Bang feat 2ne1 (spanish cover by piyo, lena, Ktimer & seba dupont - lollipop

❤one ok rock - smiling down

❤miss papaya - hero

❤miss papaya - cinderella

❤our last night (cover) - maps

❤bentley jones - so much more

❤supershigi - zombies on your lawn

❤zebrahead - down without a fight

❤zebrahead - if you're looking for your knife...i think my back found it

❤siouxxie - ketamine

❤ali tabatabaee & matty lewis - his world (solaris phase 2 mashup)

❤trindad cardona - love me back (sped up)

❤dj gollum ft scarlet - poison

❤PUBLIC - one that i want

❤alexis Jordan - lovemist

❤perlla - totalmente demais

❤bubbles - my boyfriend

❤rita ora - poison

❤eyedress - something about you

❤macaco - toc toc

❤bray me - grace

❤bray me - kakurenbo

❤bloc party - i still remember + (instrumental version)

❤bloc party - song for clay (dissapear here) + (instrumental version)

❤bloc party - waiting for the 7.18

❤bloc party - vision of heaven

❤bloc party - the once and future king

❤vintage - kogda ryadom ty

❤my darkest days - move your body

❤my darkest days - set it on fire

❤WRLD (feat savo) - hang up

❤dragon hunters OST - opening

❤anitta - envolver

❤barbie diaries(skye sweetnam) - this is me

❤barbie - barbie 12 dancing princesses theme

❤big time rush - elevate

❤archers(cover) - levitating

❤03 greedo - substance (nightcore)

❤beach boys - california dreamin'

❤HIGH and MIGHTY - pride

❤HIGH and MIGHTY - hibana

❤pony pony run run - 1997 (she said it's alright)

❤kelly clarkson - you found me

❤statechampsNY(cover) - stitches

❤issues(cover) - boyfriend

❤remi wolf - michael

❤bloc party - little thoughts

❤bloc party - storm and stress

❤cécile corbel - our house below

❤cécile corbel - the wild waltz

❤bloc party - we are not good people

❤bloc party - V.A.L.I.S

❤jax jones - you don't know me

❤Ckay - love nwantiti

❤CHICO - raspeberry monster

❤tom speight - heartshaker

❤betta lemme - bambola

❤stromae - papaoutei

❤boa - garden in the air

❤paramore - for a pessimist i'm pretty optimistic

❤bratz - blah blah blah

❤bray me - jokyosetsumei

❤bem da hora - um norte

❤bloc party - callum is a snake

❤of monsters and men - little talks

❤tsukiko amano ft hana tan - clockwork

❤in the heights - blackout

❤tsukiko amano ft okuda miwako - shizuku

❤melim - peça felicidade

❤jonas brothers ft karol g - X

❤jaco caraco - you make me go crazy

❤mitchell marlow - we will always win

❤bad suns ft PVRIS - maybe you saved me

❤barbie (holly lindin) - summer sunshine

❤bloc party - cavaliers and roundheads

❤sean kingston ft nicki minaj - letting it go (dutty love)

❤marshmallow - you and me

❤kola kid - timer

❤shiro sagisu - cometh the hour (chorus A guitar)

❤nicki minaj - super freaky girl (slowed)

❤the maine - into your arms

❤rihanna - only girl (slowed)

❤within temptation - grenade

❤cpm22 - desconfio

❤ericdoa - fantasize

❤bloc party - demos song

❤lene marlin - faces

❤natasha thomas - young hearts

❤Bratz - i don't care

❤ben folds - red is blue

❤BYUL - i think i

❤crispy - the game

❤heidi - hyururi (instrumental)

❤bubbles - happy girl

❤playboi carti - on that time (tik tok remix)

❤tsukiko amano - ningyou

❤hidden citizens(cover) - paint it black

❤annaliese (cover) - until the day i die

❤tsukiko amano - kakan

❤simgretina - smile

❤tsukiko amano - bodaiju

❤nicki minaj - whip it

❤dawin - go off

❤the maine - the way we talk

❤philip lawrence ft UAKTI - it's a jungle out here (brazilian)

❤wavegroup (cover) - infected

❤bloc party - we were lovers

❤videoclub - roi

❤a change of pace - war in your bedroom

❤bear McCreary - ragnarök

❤officieldionysos - flamme à lunettes

❤mohumbi - say jambo

❤merca bae - blue kush Bday (bk beats tool)

❤stxlkin - so bitter

❤barbie - be a friend

❤cécile corbel - haru's chase

❤m-flo ft boa - the love bug

❤merk & kremont - she's wild

❤horsegiirl - starsiigns

❤neffex - rumors

❤vampyx - kiss me

❤fall out boys - bob dylan

❤superbus - lola

❤austin mahone - secret (slowed)

❤roy bee - Kiss me again (radio edit)

❤6arelyhuman - death city + syris & 03osc

❤1stress ft xofilo - victim

❤HIGH and MIGHTY COLOR - here i am

[weeblyteblog]

Pop's Diner: A Cozy Haven for Food Enthusiasts

Pop's Diner Chronicles: Tasting the Flavorful Journey

Nestled amidst the vibrant tapestry of St. John's, Pop's Diner stands as a beacon of culinary artistry and heartwarming hospitality, a testament to the unwavering spirit of its proprietor, Peter Smith. More than just a purveyor of delectable dishes, Pop's Diner is an embodiment of a lifelong dream, a testament to Peter's unwavering passion for creating a haven where the flavors of tradition intertwine with the warmth of community.

From his early days as an aspiring chef, Peter's heart resonated with the allure of classic Canadian comfort food, the kind that evokes memories of cherished gatherings and the simple joys of life. Over the years, he meticulously honed his culinary skills, traversing the culinary landscape and absorbing the essence of various cuisines, all while preserving the soul of his beloved hometown fare.

He envisioned a space where guests could escape the hustle and bustle of daily life, immersing themselves in a realm of culinary delight and convivial atmosphere.

In 2022, Peter's vision materialized into Pop's Diner, a haven where the aromas of freshly brewed coffee mingle with the sizzle of griddles, creating an irresistible symphony of culinary temptations. The diner's décor pays homage to St. John's rich heritage, with vintage photographs adorning the walls and classic diner seating inviting lingering conversations and laughter-filled moments.

Peter's culinary philosophy is deeply rooted in the belief that food is more than just nourishment; it's an expression of love, a celebration of tradition, and a bridge that connects people across generations. His menu showcases an array of classic Canadian dishes, each prepared with meticulous attention to detail and a sprinkle of Peter's own culinary magic.

From the fluffy pancakes that melt in your mouth to the savory poutine that warms your soul, each dish at Pop's Diner is a testament to Peter's passion and dedication. His commitment to using locally sourced ingredients ensures that every bite is infused with the freshness and flavor of St. John's bounty.

But beyond the delectable cuisine, it's Peter's infectious warmth and genuine hospitality that truly sets Pop's Diner apart. He greets each guest with a smile that radiates from within, making them feel like they've stepped into his own home. His genuine interest in his customers' lives and his ability to connect with people from all walks of life have made him a beloved figure in the St. John's community.

Farm-to-Table Delights: Unleashing Fresh Flavors

In the midst of the bustling cityscape, Pop's Diner stands as a beacon of culinary excellence, a haven for those seeking a taste of true comfort food. Stepping through its doors, one is instantly transported to a realm of nostalgia, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon fills the air, evoking memories of heartwarming family dinners and the simple joys of life.

At Pop's Diner, freshness is not merely an ingredient; it's a philosophy, a guiding principle that permeates every aspect of the dining experience. From the moment you lay eyes on the menu, you are met with a symphony of classic Canadian fare, each dish meticulously crafted using only the finest and freshest ingredients available.

The crispy, hand-cut french fries, a testament to culinary artistry, stand as a testament to the diner's commitment to quality. Each slender fry emerges from the fryer with a golden-brown coat, crisp on the outside yet yielding to a soft, fluffy interior. Their uniform shape and tantalizing aroma are a prelude to the explosion of flavor that ensues with the first bite.

For those seeking a taste of pure, unadulterated beef, Pop's Diner's classic burgers are a must-try. The juicy patties, sourced from local farms, are grilled to perfection, their succulent flavors enhanced by a symphony of toppings, from the crisp lettuce and tangy tomato to the creamy mayonnaise and tangy pickles. Each bite is a harmonious blend of textures and tastes, a testament to the diner's mastery of the burger craft. 

And then there's the Fish and Chips, a culinary masterpiece that elevates this simple dish to an art form. The plump, succulent fish, encased in a light and crispy batter, is a symphony of textures and flavors. The flaky white flesh, cooked to perfection, melts in your mouth, leaving behind a lingering taste of the sea. The accompanying fries, crispy and golden, provide a perfect counterpoint to the rich flavors of the fish.

Contact Information

Address: 31 Rowan St, St. John's, Newfoundland and Labrador A1B 2X2 Canada

Phone number: +1 709 753 7677

Website: https://pops-diner.club/

[one-britt-to-rule-them-all]

Hi Britt!! I saw your call for kinktober prompts and wanted to recommend the visions of temptation prompts by @/xxsycamore!

https://www.tumblr.com/xxsycamore/727485434443268096/

These are the new ones for 2023, I started the 2022 ones last year and it’s my goal to finish them 😅

Oooh that’s a good one. 👀

Thank you so much, and I wish you the best for this year! Here’s hoping we can finish them lmao.

[thewahookid]

Our Lady's Message to Father Oliveira and the Great Tribulation of 2023

In this video we share Our Lady's Message to Father Oliveira and the Great Tribulation of 2023. Father “Oliveira” of Rio Grande do Sul in Southern Brazil has allegedly been receiving messages and visions from God for several years.   Father Oliveira is not his real name; he chooses to remain anonymous.   His fame seemed to spread into the English world after a March 12, 2020 vision of the death of Benedict XIV,  to take place in 2022, came to pass.  Benedict died on December 31, 2022. Newer alleged messages of Father Oliveira are very detailed and likewise propose timelines,  and so we urge readers to continue to exercise caution and proper discernment,  given the sometimes conditional nature of prophecy and,  of course,  the question of validity that remains open. His official spokesperson responsible for diffusing his messages is the Brazilian Lucas Gelasio,  who has said that Father Oliveira’s locutions will very soon come to an end and that he will be assigned to a new mission. Since Father Oliveira remains anonymous,  we are unable to offer any further information on whether there is accompanying mystical phenomena,  such as the stigmata,  ecstasies,  etcetera which although not definitive in proving the authenticity of alleged messages,  can aid in their overall discernment. The Message of Our Lady to Padre “Oliveira” on June 17, 2023 follows here: Beloved son,  listen carefully: In October of this year,  a period of great tribulation will begin,  which I predicted when I was in France,  Portugal and Spain.   On these three occasions,  I spoke about the cause of these tribulations. Be prepared,  above all spiritually,  because this period will not come with a bang,  but will be gradual and will spread slowly throughout the world.   The war that has started will increase,  as you have already seen. There will be droughts,  great storms and earthquakes in many places of the world.   But as my Divine Son said,  when you hear these rumors,  do not be afraid!   Always use the Miraculous Medal from today on,  and distribute the medal to your flock as well.   Sickness will not be the only evil that will spread; spiritual evil will be worse.   Sickness will however be a great scourge.  Put the medal of Saint Benedict on the door,  and do not forget to use the scapular.   Bless candles,  oil,  and water.   Have no more doubts about the Oil of the Good Samaritan: bless it and use it.   Seek to remain in a state of grace,  because the demons have set upon humanity with strong temptations,  especially against priests.   Pray for them and pray for yourself too,  as you are a priest.   Always remember who you are!   Pray also for your bishop and for all bishops.   Pray much for the Holy Father: make fasts and sacrifices for him.   I,  your Mother and Queen,  will be with all those who entrust themselves to my care,  and I will not leave any of my children helpless.   As I have promised many times,  this time is part of what I said in my Third Secret in Portugal. On October 13, I will give you a sign as you asked me to do; that is why I have shown you this date.   I have received from God the mission to guard,  together with the holy angels that the Lord has placed at my service,  all those who have entrusted their lives to me.   There will be great devastation from Russia,  instigated by the infernal Dragon.   This will harm the whole world.   But do not fear.   This is the opportune time for holiness.   Remember that the great saints rose up in times of great darkness. Times of tribulation,  especially this one,  should not be faced with fear and cowardice,  but with love and courage.   You see,  my son,  this is why I have called you in this hour,  so that you would remember and proclaim that the opportune time for holiness is now,  today — not tomorrow,  but now. Eucharistic adoration should be your anchor, and the Holy Rosary the chain of that anchor.   Eucharistic adoration, acts of reparation and sacrifices, united with the Holy Rosary, can change all prophecies!   Do not forget this: Adoration and the Holy Rosary.   Do penance, offer sacrifices for the salvation of souls, for the conversion of sinners and the sanctification of the clergy.   Remember that the Lord knows everything and is in command of everything.   Soon there will come the Triumph of my Immaculate Heart!   Remain faithful in this time of purification; trust in the help of your Guardian Angel.   The time for the saints is now.   Pray,  dear son,  pray and watch,  as I have called you today — pray and watch. Our Lady gave us the passage from Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) 18:7-14 on which to meditate: When mortals finish,  they are only beginning,  and when they stop they are still bewildered.

[xxsycamore]

Can you do Mozart & wet dreams?

Träumerei

╰┈➤ Mozart has never allowed himself as much as to think of her romantically. Strangely, his most recent dreams are all but lascivious, and twice as confusing. träumerei [noun, german] - dreaming

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart x MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Wet Dream; Mutual Pining; Feelings Realization; Denial of Feelings; Love Confessions; Miscommunication; Fainting; Hand & Finger Kink; Vanilla; Dream Sex; Ambiguous/Open Ending • wordcount: 1,104 • masterlist

• Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that’s right, 2022. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 3: WET DREAM

"Mozart… Mozart, touch me more with your hands, please…!"

It would be too easy, the composer muses in his thoughts, but he can't find it in himself to deny and tease her anymore. It warms him from the inside when she craves him so, his hands, his touch, so much that she's writhing underneath him. But when she lets out these beautiful moans, the spark of warmth blooms into a consuming fire.

"You love it so much when I touch you. You don't need to beg me. If you want me to touch you, then undress and show me where you need to be touched."

***

"No, that's all wrong. Did you not pay attention when I showed you? Here. Look."

Deft fingers dancing on the piano keys, Mozart repeats the chords with ease in yet another demonstration. His gaze moves on her even before the last notes can fill the air, making sure she's paying attention this time.

Even if it does things to his head, being this close to her.

Given that she was in his dreams just last night. Dreams that were not so innocent...

"I did, it's just… it seems like I was watching you play the piano, and not the notes you play. Tehee…"

His hands. He's not the type to seek eye contact, but more often than he catches her looking back, he catches her looking at his hands.

***

"I want more…I need more, please…please, Wolf!"

It catches him by surprise, how naturally it came out of her mouth. In contrast, her face is burning, gaze not as bold as her tongue, making him want to rain kisses on her hot cheeks. She needs to understand how happy she just made him.

He keeps moving inside her, gently removing the hands she tries to hide her face with. He needs to make love to her more, to give her more until she's pliant and spent and satisfied in his arms.

"You finally said my name." Betraying his own wishes, Mozart finds more appealing spots to press his lips against other than her face. Her neck, where her blood pumps in a rhythmic pulse; the metronome telling him to play her like a melody; to eat her one fang-filled bite at a time. "Keep saying it. I want to hear you say it more."

***

"Where do you want me to put those, Wolf?--Oh! I m-mean, Mozart! I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful! It just slipped out and-"

Something he didn't expect to hear outside those dreams that haunt him. Just an accident. Merely a slip of the tongue.

"That's fine, don't apologize. Are you okay? You're shaking."

She puts down the folded sheets where Mozart points her to, hurrying to find anything else to keep her hands busy with and mask some of that trembling. While nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she unknowingly barrens her nape for Mozart's gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just…couldn't sleep well last night."

"Me too. Be careful not to overwork yourself."

***

"Wolf… I actually… have feelings for you-…No that's awful! Too straight to the point. Ugh. Wolf, I…."

Listening in disbelief, Mozart is overtaken by all sorts of emotions. Her confession came out of nowhere. But she's so finicky about getting it right, she just keeps saying it again and again.

"The truth is, ever since I came to the mansion, I found myself attracted to you and before I knew it… I was truly in love. I grew up with your music, and hearing it has always soothed me in times of- Nonono, what am I thinking? I grew up with it? I'm definitely not saying that part!"

And from finding himself embarrassed, Mozart now finds himself letting out chuckles he can't control, so much unlike him. His heart feels so light, glowing with the newly discovered reciprocation of his feelings.

"I knew that already… you were being pretty obvious, you know. To think that I doubted it still… Hurry up and settle on your confession so I could make mine, would you?"

***

Today she's nowhere to be seen, and for good. Downing another cup of coffee, Mozart hopes he could drown those pestering, illogical feelings in the bitter liquid along with what remains of his sleepiness. Concentrating on his work has never been this hard and he hates it; the sound of ruckus coming from downstairs joining in the cacophony of distractions until he gets up from his desk and goes to check it for himself.

He sees her then, unconscious in the arms of another man who luckily broke her fall. Somebody answers Mozart's horrified gaze with a brief reassurance that she'd most likely overworked herself and it's nothing any more serious than that. The residents are shocked when it's none other than the composer himself who insists he'll take care of her and carry her to her room.

It's maybe on the way there when he realizes, or maybe it's when he finds himself tucking her in under the covers.

Her room, that is adjacent to his.

Her bed, which is positioned in a way that is mirrored to his own, with only a thin wall separating the headboards.

His keen ear as a composer. One thin wall…

"M-Mozart…"

Her glossy eyes stare at him under heavy lids, gradually widening as if in disbelief.

"Idiot, you're going to work yourself to death. How long has it been since you last had an adequate amount of sleep?"

He's no good scolding for this with those most likely noticeable dark circles under his eyes, alas.

"Alright, alright, I'll rest! I'm closing my eyes the second you go through that door! Jeez…Hey Mozart?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for— Are you okay? Your face is red…"

It's funny how fast the tables turn when her hand touches his forehead in an utmost caring manner, and Mozart has to remind that she might be too warm herself to accurately check for him. And judging by the way she has the energy to frown and bark at him, it must be okay now for him to take his leave.

"I'm right nextdoor if you need anything."

"I know where your room is, Mozart…!"

"And one more thing." He keeps his hand on the doorknob, turning his head to look her in the eye one more time. "Next time you have trouble sleeping because there's something on your mind, just come see me."

The only answer he gets is a shy nod that comes after a rather long pause. And it's satisfying enough of an answer.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @ndoandou Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[ana-thedaydreamer]

When he suddenly wants to make love to you when you were sleeping next to him 🥰❤️

He was so gentle touching and kissing every inch of your body, and when you could not take it anymore and moan to his ear, he became a beast craving for your warmth.

//I haven’t drawn Shingen for a while gyahh//

[yanderepuck]

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Day 1 Oral sex: Shakespeare

Day 2 Sexy lingerie: Jean

Day 3 Wet dreams: Isaac

Day 4 Sex in a vehicle: Mozart

Day 5 Mirror sex: Theo

Day 6 Praise kink: Theo

Day 7 Desk sex: Comte

Day 8 Getting Caught: Leonardo

Day 9 Clothed Sex: Dazai

Day 10 Waking up at night for sex: Jean

Day 11 Aftercare: Jean

Day 12 Spitroasting: Faust and Charles

Day 13 Multiple orgasms: Vlad

Day 14 Biting/Marking: Comte

Day 15 Cockwarming: Theo

Day 16 Object insertion/Sex toys: Charles

Day 17 Discipline and punishment: Faust

Day 18 Somnophilia: Leonardo

Day 19 Aphrodisiacs: Theo

Day 20 First Time: Vlad

Day 21 Pegging: Isaac

Day 22 Foot fetish: Napoleon

Day 23 Face sitting: Vincent

Day 24 Weaponplay: Leonardo

Day 25 Size Difference: Theo

Day 26 FWB: Napoleon

Day 27 Suspension: Dazai

Day 28 Food play: Theo

Day 29 Cumming in pants: Arthur

Day 30 Maid/Butler kink: Sebastian

Day 31 Sexual roleplay: Shakespeare

[klutzyroses]

Seductive Sunrise

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Dazai x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Day 10 | Morning sex | "Come back to bed."

Tags: NSFW, female reader, cunninlingus, edging, penetration

Word Count: 1403

My entry for Kinktober! Tagging @kissmetwicekissmedeadly , @xxsycamore for this super spicy event!💖

The sound of sheets shuffling was the only sound in the room when bright luminous eyes, veiled by thick eyelashes as the beautiful woman awakened from her pleasant slumber. She dazedly surveyed her surroundings, finding herself in a familiar room in a familiar warm embrace, her soft lips curling into a little smile upon seeing the source of her warmth. Her beloved was mostly coiled around her, having her cocooned in his arms safe and sound, his even breathing a soothing melody to her ears. It was quite rare for her to awaken before he did, even if it was early sunrise. But it was a welcome event, after all, she hardly saw the novelist look so sweet, she could hardly resist reaching over and gently brushing plum colored strands out of his face, careful not to disrupt his slumber. Admiring him for just a bit longer than intended, she shifted slowly out of his arms, ever so slowly so as to not break his sleep and shuffled to the edge of the bed until she was at the wooden edge in a seated position, unconsciously protecting him from the soft orange of the early morning sun beaming through the curtains. She remained stationary for a moment before moving to lift herself to her feet, having every intention of returning to him with his favourite breakfast, until a hand closes over her wrist.

"Eeek!" Jolting from surprise she whipped around, ignoring the hair smacking into her face as her large sparkling eyes met the golden autumn gazing back at her with adoration, causing her tension to melt away as she placed her hand on her heart.

"Goodness, you scared me...I didn't realise you were awake." He smiles softly, a little forlorn as he peers over his love's braced form.

"Are you leaving me so soon?" She felt a slight pang at the look in his eyes. While it wasn't an endeavour to feel guilty about, she didn't feel so certain now.

"No, not for long, I just figured you might be a little hungry..."

The writer's gentle grip didn't relent as it began to tug her back towards him.

"That can wait until later. Come back to bed." His languid, seductive request left her unable to refuse as the beauty succumbed to his pull until she lay pressed against him once again.

How could she refuse him when he spoke in such alluring tones? When his fingers drew circles on her hips like he was? She couldn't help the soft sighs that left her as his lips began to leave kisses like droplets of rain on the side of her neck. Her fingers gently gripped at his clothed arm in a feeble attempt to dissuade him. It was far too early in the morning to arouse her like this, and she didn't quite fancy going about her chores a flustered mess. But this did not deter Dazai in the slightest as his kisses got progressively lower as his fingers expertly moved her thin nightgown, inching it off her gorgeous figure little by little, his kisses reaching her now bare shoulders.

"Shuji! What are you doing?" Her embarrassed inquiry is met with the playful golden gaze of the charlatan before her lips are claimed by him, pulling her closer to him whilst remaining laying on his side. She didn't resist his lips pressing against hers, nor did she resist when his tongue slid into her mouth, caressing her own and tangling around it like a sensual embrace. Her hands find their way into plum hair and weave her fingers through them as pleasured sighs left her into Dazai's mouth, which he gladly took in, eager to further seduce his love.

It isn't until he pulls back that she tries to regain some semblance of control over her situation before she gets too aroused to do anything. After all, her love is a tease and there was always that possibility that he would actively rile her up and then pull away, leaving her in this state. She knew the mischievous man holding her in his arms was more than capable of doing so, especially since she was now, for the most part, nude while he was in his yukata. She didn't have time to feel too flustered about that when the tease started sliding down the futon, a sultry smile on his lips as he never once broke eye contact with her.

"Shuji...? What...?"

"Just bidding you a good morning, my love..." Was his only answer before he disappeared ominously under the covers, as though diving under waves while she remained at the surface. When she felt her panties being slid down her legs, her eyes widened as realisation lights on her face.

"W..wait a second, Shuji hang-Ahh...on..." She could go no further as her protest trails off into a moan when she feels him lick against her entrance. It was completely unfair. He always knew exactly what to do and how to do it to turn her into putty in his hands no matter how much she tried to resist him. She mewled as she felt him lap at her again, unable to stop the heat brewing inside her, burning more with every little lick, teasing her, playing with her. All she wanted at that moment was...

"S...Shuji..p...please..." What was she asking for? For him to stop? For him to go further? She couldn't be sure, but her lover seemed to read her mind, or rather her body as he clears her mind of any doubts. Her back arches when he entered her with his tongue in one slick movement. She writhed and moaned, her senses fogging and her inhibitions fading away as her legs are pried further apart so the writer could taste her more. Her hands once again find his hair under the blanket and grip it, the lewd slick sounds of him devouring her merging with her cries of pleasure and the shuffling her body makes on the futon.

"Ah, ahhh, Shuji, mmmm!" The sensation of his tongue sliding against her inner walls made her forget what she was supposed to be doing. It would be interesting to explain to Sebastian why she was late but she was more than a little distracted to care a great deal. She could feel him pull her closer, not just to him, but to the edge, slowly guiding her along the path to ecstasy. Her body tenses as she feels herself barreling towards her peak, slightly rolling her eyes back in anticipation...

Only for him to stop and pull back from her. The maiden could've cried. Why was he such a tease?! She saw him move through the sheets until he emerged, like a hungry predator, his feline eyes almost glowing as they stare her down, a teasing simper on his lips as she took in his slightly dishevelled state. He looked utterly irresistible, his yukata falling off one side of his shoulder, displaying his sculpted physique, his hair in a state because of her tugging and gripping. The girl whined, lamenting her lost climax.

"S...Shuji, p...please don't leave me like this...I...I need you!" Her pleas brought a larger smirk to his face as he grips her thighs and slides his hands upwards to caress her hips. She was a vision, her deliciously bare body trembling and her pretty, pretty face flushed.

"How could I when you look at me like that?" He climbs aboard her shaking form, discarding his yukata on the way and presses kisses to her eyelids before thrusting into her, reveling in her melting in his arms.

"S...Shuji..." Her soft voice makes him pause to look at her face, pleasure and need written into her gorgeous features before a little smile adds on to her already stunning picture as a few stray rays of morning sunshine bathes her in soft orange, gold and white hues. He is temporarily immobilised by the beauty under him before the angel speaks once more.

"Good morning..." Unsteady, wanton but oh, so loving, melting his heart as the tenderness he felt in his heart reflected in his eyes, an equally tender smile appearing on his visage before he kisses her forehead, nuzzling her as his hips rock into her once more, eliciting a moan from her before whispering.

"Good morning, my little blossom.''

🌸

[flightlesslawnclippings]

Sirens Song

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Comte x reader

Prompt: Day 7 - Against the wall /Table sex, "Can you feel what you've done to me?"

Word count: 1813

Notes: This is my contribution to @xxsycamore #kinktober2022 challenge! (I am posting a little early - sorry!) It is also the first fic I've ever posted online, so please let me know if you like it! I usually write for myself so it feels a little scary to share, but this is basically my love letter to Comte.

(The song that I primarily had in mind for this was The Love You Want - Sleep Token)

WARNINGS/SPOILERS: NSFW, smut, 18+ minors DNI, Comte's first name, angst, fingering, biting (light, no turning), sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The way the golden sun streamed in the windows it was easy to understand why everyone went out today. It was probably the last warm day before the bitter cold of winter. Sebastian stood in the front doorway and turned to look back at you "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? It's too nice outside to stay cooped up all day."

"Thanks but I'll be alright. I'm looking forward to a little time alone actually."

"Well, if you're sure.." he said giving you a sheepish smile "Since you're staying in can you put the clean dishes away before dinner?"

You gave him a gentle push out the door "No problem, now go! Have fun!" He turned and walked off with a wave as you closed the door behind him. The mansion was so quiet now. Quieter than you had ever heard it before. You stand there with your back to the door and take a deep breath absorbing the stillness that was so very rare. You let out a sigh "I suppose I should get that done before I forget." you say to yourself as you walk toward the kitchen.

You look at the mountain of dishes to put away from the banquet the previous night with a new determination. Still in a good mood despite the work, you start singing aloud some songs from the 21st century. It's been some time since you heard them as your phone died many moons ago, but you still remember the lyrics of your favorites almost as if you could still hear the music clearly playing in your head.

You return all the assorted pots and pans to their proper places first. Next the plates and glasses. You managed to get everything put away fairly quickly thanks to you being so familiar with the kitchen. As you were sorting the last of the flatware into the drawer -

"You have a beautiful singing voice, you know."

Your stomach hits the floor and your head snaps up to the sound of the voice, you see him standing, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Looking more casual then you had ever seen him before, without his overcoat, tie, or even shoes, le Comte has appeared as if from thin air. He tilts his head slightly staring directly into your eyes. Your whole face floods with heat "When- How- I- I thought everyone went out today?" you finally manage to stammer out.

"Oh they did. However, I chose to stay in and catch up on some of my letters and enjoy a little peace and quiet. Seems you and I had similar thoughts." he chucked to himself.

"I'm so sorry, if I had known- I wouldn't have been singing so loud! I-I'm sorry if I bothered you, I can-"

Before you could finish your flustered apology, he cuts you off "Tis not a bother, ma cherie. In truth, your song called to me reminiscent of the way sirens call to sailors. I was entranced, but I must confess I do not recognize the melody."

Just when you thought your face couldn't get any redder, a whole new wave of heat spreads across your cheeks. "Oh." you said shocked, but still embarrassed, "It's just some of the music I used to listen to in my time.. Um, would you like some tea?" You asked trying to change the subject. You turned to the cupboards, happy to have a reason to break the intense eye contact. There is something different in his eyes today. Something almost wild. You had noticed in the past that his eyes tend to follow you, but you tried not to read too much into it. After all, you are certainly not anyone influential or of great historical importance.

"I'd love some" You didn't hear him move but you suddenly felt his closeness. You put the kettle on the stove and turned around to push yourself up and sit on the counter. If Sebastian knew you were sitting on his counter he would surely flick you. You felt like being at eye level might help you relieve the awkwardness you felt, but it ended up giving him a chance to get even closer. You weren't exactly sure how it happened, but he was now very comfortably positioned standing between your knees, his liquid gold eyes searching yours. Saying nothing, he reached up an gently placed a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, fingers just barely ghosting across your skin.

Heat. Everything felt hot. His eyes seemed to melt every part of you. Feeling the heat start gathering in your belly under his honey gaze gives you a shred of confidence. Why else would he be this close? He wouldn't be standing like this if he wasn't interested, right? You slowly leaned forward, and when he didn't move away, you leaned in further delicately placing a kiss on his lips. He presses into you returning the kiss, and you feel one of his hands run up the side of your thigh. Just as you started slipping your tongue into his mouth, he pulls away.

Oh no. Feeling instant regret and shame, you knit your eyebrows together and look down at your hands in your lap.

"Cherie.. are you sure.. is this what you want?" you hear him say in a low breathy voice. "Are you sure you want.. me?"

Your eyes dart back up to meet his, surprised at his sudden confession. You can see something akin to  loneliness in his eyes that leaves you heartbroken for a moment. How could he not know your true feelings? How could he not see that you've only ever had eyes for him? "Comte," you say softly "How could I not? You are the sweetest, kindest man I've ever-" Before you could say anything more his lips were crushed against yours again, full of desire. Pushing his tongue past your lips, you grab handfuls of his shirt. His hand continues its journey up your thigh to your hip and his other hand wraps around your back, pulling you tight against his chest. You pull your legs up and lock them around his waist. Your fingers start frantically unbuttoning his shirt when you feel him lift you. Still kissing you hungrily, he carries you out to the dining room and sets you on the table.

You pull back and look at him perplexed for a moment, and as if reading your thoughts he answers in a low growl "My bedroom is across the house and I simply cannot wait that long." After that his mouth is on your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse point, his skilled fingers working to open your blouse. Your whole body feels like it's being consumed by fire and you bite your lip, struggling to stifle a moan. His mouth travels lower, across your collarbone, and lower sucking on your breast and cupping the other in his hand. You hear him muttering something in French as his other hand wanders ups your skirt on your bare thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. His fingers find the top of your panties and he practically rips them off you. Suddenly the ceiling is in view and the weight of his body on top of your own, you can feel his length pressing against the inside of your thigh being constrained by his pants. Kissing you again, his fingers find your already wet center, and he works two of his fingers inside, his thumb teasing your bud. You couldn't help but whimper at the sudden sensation. Your hands move on their own to his pants trying free him, wanting more. He removes his fingers from you and you feel the loss of them. He pushes himself up, blond hair falling in his face and you get a full look at his bare chest. His skin pale, muscles lean and yet somehow toned but absolutely gorgeous. You open his pants and his cock springs out, larger than you were expecting, but you are ready.

"Be sure to tell me if there is pain, ma cherie." You nod, then grip the edge of the table as he lines himself up. He leans back in to kiss you as he slowly pushes himself inside you, carefully, feeling how your walls stretch to accommodate him. His breathy groan against your lips as he goes deeper and deeper is heaven to your ears. Once you are full to the hilt, his hands start exploring your every inch of your body, one coming to rest on your ass.  You put your arms around his back as he starts moving his hips rhythmically, you feel yourself start winding up already. Now you really can't help but moan as he starts licking and nipping your neck again breathing heavily, while he slams into you again and again. His fangs scrape the delicate skin but he is careful not to break it. Your fingernails start digging into his skin and you know you won't last much longer at this rate.

"I'm.. so close" you barely manage to whisper out.

"Sing. Sing for me."

As if the words themselves were what pushed you over the edge, you arched your back up into his chest, head thrown back and you cry out. Your mind goes hazy as your walls clamp down and you feel his bucking hips start stuttering as he rides out his climax as well. Taking ragged breaths, his whole body now laying on you, his head on your already heaving chest. Your fingers find their way into his soft hair.  You both lie there for a moment comfortable, catching your breath.

"Can you feel what you've done to me?" he asks in a quiet voice. He lifts his head to meet your eyes, looking into them like you are the most precious and rare treasure in the world.

"Comte.."  you say somewhat timidly.

"Abel."

"Abel?"

"That is my name. I want you to know it."

"Abel." You say softly, in a voice barely above a whisper, and a smile more beautiful than the day itself blooms across his face.

Sometime later - You've changed the tablecloth and start setting the places for dinner, as most of the residents have already arrived home. Sebastian hurries through the dining room, rushing past you "I'm sorry I'm late, the shops were running low on some of the ingredients I needed, so I had to go way out of my way" he states trailing off into the kitchen. You smile to yourself and continue setting plates, lost in your own thoughts. Not a moment later, you hear him loudly yell from the kitchen "WHO WASTED MY GOOD TEA!?" You weren't sure, but you could have sworn you heard Abel chuckle from the other room.

~~Thank you for taking the time to read this! i hope you enjoyed it! :)

[ohtomatotome]

Watch

—----------

Title: “Watch”

Characters: Comte de Saint-Germain, Sebastian x Female Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

Word Count: 1,598

Rating: E

Tags: Jealousy, Unrequited love, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex

Trigger Warnings: Broken Trust?

Author’s Note: Part of #VisionsOfTemptation2022 for Kinktober (prompt credit to @xxsycamore ). This one is angsty. Why do I hurt Comte? I certainly don’t hate him. In fact, he’s my favorite character in the game.  It seems like everything I write for him has him either panicking, pining, pouting, or putting an end to a fight. Perhaps because in the game he appears serene and capable on the outside, so I enjoy seeing him struggle with something that really challenges his composure. 

Prompt Used: Voyeurism

—----------

It had started out so innocent, so seldom, so unattached.

When you arrived at the Parisian mansion in the 1890s, le Comte was the perfect host. He had assumed the father-figure role for most of the vampires there, and that same paternal regard was extended to you. You felt safe within his careful gaze. How could you know heat lurked beneath the gentle smile?

The truth was far more expansive than you ever realized. He was always watching.

When you were receiving idle flirtations from Arthur and Dazai, he had seen your flustered blush.

When Napoleon surprised you with his innocent morning kiss, he had been outside the door.

When you were relaxing in the thermae, he had hid himself in the corner obscured by steam and plants. Later that night would be the first in a countless string of nights he had jerked himself off while picturing you.

When you were trying so hard to impress Sebastian, he saw the determination on your face. 

When you had reached a boiling point of frustration with trying to understand your feelings for Sebastian, he watched you run to Leonardo for consolation. 

When a special spark of electricity passed between your gaze with Sebastian one evening at dinner, he didn’t miss it.

When you and Sebastian were working side by side in the kitchen and exchanging lingering glances and quick little kisses, he had been watching from the hallway.

He had been a silent witness to all your important moments in the mansion. He had held his tongue for too long and let the chance slip away. He could have easily made a romantic impression on you from the very beginning, sweeping you off your feet and making sure you looked at no one but him. 

But he hadn’t. 

That would have been selfish.

Besides, you would be leaving in one month, so what would have been the point to secure your affections?

How was he to know that the Door would malfunction for so long and trap you here in the past?

In the interim, you fell in love with Sebastian, and he with you. Everyone was happy for the both of you. It seemed only natural for the two humans to pair up. 

It would have been unnatural if you had chosen a vampire, to say nothing of a pureblood. 

Unnatural, indeed.

Never had jealousy felt so personal to le Comte.

When your relationship was becoming more intimate, you began fretting over the plain and matronly state of your underthings. They had been a bulk delivery of identical pieces that Comte bought as soon as you arrived. You hadn’t had a say in it. You were grateful at the time, but now you wish you had something a little more exciting to wear, since there was someone in your life who was going to see you naked. Eventually. 

Le Comte watched you grumbling as you pawed through her dresser. Of course he was there, out in the hall, watching. “Would you like something new? Any particular item in mind? Let me buy it for you. Come, ma cherie, let’s go shopping.” 

He watched you run your hand over the silk drawers and camisoles in the shop. His vivid imagination pictured your shapely form being hugged by that champagne fabric, visualized your hand gliding down his own bare stomach and reaching lower, the new light of dawn dappling your skin. 

“Monsieur?” Your perky voice brought him out of his reverie.

Of course he had to have you try them on to make sure they fit. He insisted on standing guard right outside the dressing room. He smirked as he heard the rustle of fabric and your delighted cooing. There was immense pleasure to be taken in the knowledge of you wearing the lingerie at his request first, before Sebastian ever got to see them. And even greater pleasure knowing that he was the one purchasing the items that would be closest to your nakedness.

—------

He also happened to watch as you boldly led a red-faced Sebastian into your room one night. 

Le Comte decided to indulge his own selfish fantasies for once. As soon as you closed your door, he silently locked himself in the room next to yours. This unused room held a secret known only to him: a peep hole through the back of the closet that was hidden behind the tapestry hung in your room, threads strategically thinned out in that exact spot. The surveillance was originally needed for a suspicious house guest Comte did not trust. He hadn’t used it in decades. 

His watchful eyes were on your every move as you began to loosen your layers of constrictive clothing, shimmying out of them until you were only clad in the very same lingerie he had bought you. Le Comte observed this fact with pride and satisfaction. And envy. Always envy, that ever-present thorn in his heart.

You encouraged Sebastian to undress next, kissing him as he undid his many buttons and snaps. Now the two of you are just in your underwear, the candlelight and moonlight cooperating to give your curves the most delectable shadows and highlights. You made a slow show of removing the silk slip until the only thing touching your skin was the pale light.

Le Comte longingly contemplated your bare beauty and silently cursed the butler for not grabbing your hips to see how the plump flesh gave under the pressure of a squeeze. He heard you say something in a low, sultry voice, but even with vampiric hearing could not make out all the words. The hungry tone, however, was unmistakable. It waltzed down his spine deep into his belly. That tone was the last inducement he needed before unbuttoning his pants and taking out his member, already stiffening and begging to be stroked.

Sebastian didn't need any further coaxing either. After you laid on the bed he began working between your legs with his mouth and fingers, making up for with enthusiasm what he lacked in experience. Le Comte watched your lips with rapt attention, how they opened and closed around silent gasps. Each inhale of yours was matched with a stroke of his hand down his cock. Sebastian continued until you were mewling and your thighs started to twitch involuntarily with pleasurable spams. 

You pleaded in a husky voice for your lover to fill you, clutching at his hair and tugging him up towards your body. Le Comte had to be careful now, his heavy breaths were difficult to keep silent. He strained to see your face as Sebastian entered you. Exquisite. Sublime. Perfect.  The low moan you let out was enough to shake Comte so badly he had to hold onto the wall for support before he erupted. He was close, but he wanted to hold out as long as possible and cum at the same time as you.

Sebastian staggered the pace of his thrusting, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes slow and deep. Comte tried to time his fist strokes along with your sounds, imagining it is him that was making her sound so wanton and needy. In his fantasy, you had always come to his room when you needed consoling. It was his shoulder that you had cried onto. It was his arms that you found solace. It was his eyes that you desperately wanted to capture. It was his heart that you fought to uncover. It was his soul that you had desired. It was him that you loved. Him. Not Leo, not Sebastian, not anyone else. He was the only one who gave you everything you needed.

Right at that moment, he closed his eyes as his mind was painting a picture of the two of you making love in the garden gazebo at midnight. He could almost smell the night-blooming phlox and hear the crickets. You’re lying beneath him, gazing up at him with eyes full of love and lust. Oh! If only you had ever looked at him like that, just once. Just once. Just…

Your sighs and gasps turned breathier and higher-pitched. Le Comte knew you must be close to a climax. He resumed a rapid motion on his shaft, eagerly awaiting that triumphant sound. He peered through the hole once more to see your back arching off the mattress, legs wrapped around Sebastian, mouth open in a silent pull of air, and then – your little shriek that almost made his dick jump out of his hand. Your following moan was all he needed to chase his own finish. He had a handkerchief ready and caught every drop as his chest shuddered with shaky breaths. 

The guilt was immediate. He felt dirty and despicable to his core. A sudden gloom overtook him as he splayed a palm out against the wall for support. The elegant mouth turned down in utter disgust at himself.

What was he doing?

You had trusted him. You looked up to him as a benefactor, as the respected master of the manor. As a friend. 

And this was how he repaid your trust?

Deplorable. Sickening. Unforgivable. Reprehensible. 

Self-hatred and self-pity overwhelmed him. He buttoned up his fly and stuffed the soiled handkerchief into a pocket.

He could hear the couple renewing their love-making as he silently moved out of the closet and into the dark room. Anguish pierced his chest. Shame soured his mind. He didn’t know how long he sat in that room, letting the sounds of bed springs and pleasurable grunts float over him, wishing for something that would never be.