#what colour is flannels hair-

[mythrite]

Hair Practices with SC OCs

i’m not that good at drawing hair. so that’s why i’m takin a look at other ocs

this is also to make up designs for when i wanna draw other ocs in my comics

(people who wear masks will likely keep their masks on when i draw them later down the line)

The people i drew:

Dawn (7-28) @tw1nkee28

Pixel (11-18) @mr-1-2-3-4

Flannel @ram-bams-blog

Cerberus (7-11) @pampanope

Valkyrie (18-01) @shadow18-1

Orion/Belantik (2-15) @zante-selachi

Selena (10-13) @toastthewolfie

[racingliners]

Tagged by @shovson and @brawngp2009 to create me as a cat, thanks besties!!!

Seanagh as a cat (Autumn version)

Pic crew link to make your own

Tagging: @roscoehamiltons @rosberggp @sacharowan @draikaesehoch @25pointss and anyone else who wants to do this!

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Seven)

CW: Jealous Simon, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, praise, bit of spanking

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

The morning air was gentle, a soft ray cast through an open window, blinds not shut. The tickle of hair brushed against your stomach, the scent of cotton and whiskey brushing past your ear as your eyes fluttered open.

Simon was warm, the pudge of his belly radiating against your back. You stirred, a soft groan leaving your head as your brain racked, throbbing with an arrogant hangover. Your body was compliant, sticking to the sheets as you wriggled, a quick hand grabbing at your waist.

“Stop wriggling like that,” Simon snapped, voice tense with slumber.

“It’s how I wake up,” you yawned, pressing at the static in your eyes as he laughed against the back of your neck.

“It’s waking me up too,” the evident hardness of his boner flushed against your ass. Your face stilled, movements stopping as you squeaked out an apology.

There was a gentle tick from cicadas outside as you walked into the garden, the bristle of hot air against your bare thighs as you nestled a cup of coffee into your palms. The flowers were bright, transcendent colours flickering across a simple green as you rested against a porch chair.

The English air was a windless ruin, the scent of the sun blazing against wood filling the air as you shielded your eyes, treading along grass as your hands tipped a metal can of water onto the flora.

“Gardens nice,” a voice said.

Simon’s hips hung low with a towel, distinct V-line disposing into the cotton as a delicate trail of hair followed. You swallowed, visibly.

“Thank you,” you gawked, eyes slightly wide as you breathed in the image of him, iris’ soaked in arousal.

“You want to grab breakfast?”

“And they call him Soap?” You giggle, mouth crinkling as your eyes closed, squinting as Simon explained his task force to you, or the men you indecently exposed.

“Gave it to ‘em because of how fast he cleans out a room.”

“And why do they call you Ghost?”

The name was strange leaving your mouth, the foreignness of someone so different to the military speaking it sending a chill through him as he maintained composure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The café was bustling, the bricks stacked with corny quotes and pictures of regulars, the mint counter littered with coffee grounds and spilt milk. Eyes wandered on the bulky man next to you, but he didn’t pay attention, simply watching you as you spilled workplace secrets.

The croissant you were scoffing down crumby as it collected on the side of your lips, the tickle of pastry paying you no mind as you rambled. Simon took in the way your eyes darted back and forth when you spoke too much and the way your hands displayed actions when you wanted to emphasise something.

He noticed how your nose twitched slightly as you sucked in deeper breaths than normal, and he noticed the light fluster of blush across your cheek when he gazed at you.

You scrunched your brows together as he looked at your lips, his own creasing up slightly with amusement.

“What?” You said, confused before a calloused thumb reached out and rubbed at the side of your lip, speckles of crumbs falling from your face as you groaned.

“I had food on my face the whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

“Didn’t wan’ interrupt your gossip session.”

The environment felt stagnant apart from the two of you, his thumb still pressed against your cheek with a light pressure, umber eyes seeping through his sockets as he memorised every crease of your skin. His ears hissed with a monotone ring, too focused on the speckles of shade that fell between your facial apertures.

“You’re-“

“Y/N?”

The voice was familiar, yet foggy, an immediate sense of dread running through you as you stared at Louis, his body clad with a flannel shirt and scuffed-up jeans. His face was bright with a smile, arms wide as you stood, awkwardly waving.

“You ran off too fast last night,” he prattled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You pulled away in an abhorrent manner, turning around to face Simon, a scowl crossing his face.

“Had to deal with something,” you muttered as Simon raised from his seat, towering over the pair of you as he cleared his throat.

“Ah- sorry mate, you must be?” Louis yakked, his chest puffing slightly as he faced the larger man.

Simon nearly scoffed into the air, “Simon.”

“It was nice seeing you, Louis,” you smiled, lips tight as you grabbed at your neighbour’s wrist gently.

“Before you go,” he jerked, grabbing onto your shoulder softly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out again, y’know, us two?”

“I don’-“

“She’s fine.” Simon’s voice was sharp, every syllable cutting through the thickening tension, barely visible cloud of discomfort clouding around your table as you excused the both of you, mingled bodies hustling out of the crowded corner store.

Your smile was amused, shoving at the muscle of his bicep, “She’s fine?”

The look from the Lieutenant was dirty but playful, almost tempting you to argue with him, luring more of his possessive words out, “Don’t need another man eating the pussy I ate, do I?”

The words rolled from his tongue in a motion of filth as you slapped his chest, a boyish laugh sounding from him as he opened the car door for you. The drive home was windy, the usual speckle of trees greeting you as his long fingers wrapped around the stick shift as he focused on the hardened tar before him.

Your thighs, covered by a gentle sundress, were wet, a combination of arousal and sweat leaking from your panties as an evident dark patch pressed against your heat as you shifted uncomfortably. Horny eyes glanced down to his jeans, an evident strain bulging close to his zipper as you swallowed.

Tantalising fingers stroked the flesh of his arm gently as he smiled at you before they fell onto his lap, groping lightly at the hardness of his thighs, a slow trail teasing his crotch as he coughed.

“What are you doing, sweet’art?” His voice tight.

“Returning the favour.” The jerk of his car was immediate, hazards flickering in the distance as he pulled down an emptier road, dirt skidding against the tyres as he halted.

Your fingers were quick as they unzipped his pants, his hands swatting yours away as he pulled them down, large curvature poking through his briefs, precum soaking across the tip as you kissed your teeth.

Your hand was quick to grab at his erection, letting the intimidating length rest in your palms as you watched him through hooded eyes. He was quick to rid his undergarments, healthy cock springing out as it slapped against gentle curls.

The head was flushed a light red, pearly silk collecting as you swiped a thumb across it, a gentle hiss leaving his lips. Your mouth was quick to lean down, a glob of spit landing on his shaft as your hands worked against his cock with a smooth pace, gentle groans eliciting from him.

Your mouth was warm, bathing him in instant pleasure as full lips suckled at the tip, tongue running along his member with ease as you welcomed him down your throat.

Simon’s fingers wrapped around your hair, working it into a messy ponytail as he bucked upwards, a choke sounding from your stuffed throat.

Your ass was flushed in the air as he leaned his chair back, dress pooling around your tummy as the fabric fell down the plushness of your thighs.

“Good fucking girl, so good at taking me, ain’t you? Bet this is nearly as nice as your pretty pussy.”

His words spurred you on, your mouth working faster along his dick as you held a tight grip on the remainder, another hand grabbing gently at heavy balls as he delivered a harsh spank to your exposed ass, panties wedged into the puffy lips of your pussy as you whined against him.

“Gonna fill this pretty mouth up, fuck- take you as mine. You gonna let me do that, baby?”

You nodded against him, cheeks hollowed around him as you traced a thick vein, earning a deep groan from him.

The windows fogged, dirty evidence surrounding the car as you gagged, slobbering down him as you hummed, feeding him down your mouth that would no doubt bruise later.

His hand was groping at your flesh, watching the way it melted into his palm with every slap, tender flesh jiggling against him. It was a sight for sore eyes as he guided you along his length.

His balls were taunt, desperate to release as you continued your pleasurable torment. “This mouth was made for me- Jesus Christ-“

With a final gag down his cock he was coming, your mouth rushed with the taste of tangy salt, a loud moan purring through his chest as you swallowed, pulling up with a pant as your tear-streaked eyes fluttered up at him.

“Fucking beautiful, ain’t you?”

[s-i-ll-y-w-i-ll-y]

Stalking

Hannigram x teen!reader

Summary: On their walk home, Y/N decides to help a cute couple with directions to a nearby hotel. However, this act of kindness is proof that what goes around does not come back around.

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

The bus screeched to a halt on an empty back road less than a mile away from your house. Your shift was finally done and you could relax until the cycle repeated tomorrow. A meek ‘thank you’ slipped from your mouth as you walked off the bus, a small smile on your lips as you turned your music up.

Gently bopping your head to the tune, you made your way across the road, lifting a hand to silently thank the car that had stopped to let you cross. The clouds slowly drifted across the navy sky, small specks of light tucked themselves behind the clouds then peeked back out as the obstructions moved along. The moon shone down and illuminated the wide road and dusty trail you stood on, the outlines of trees cast onto the ground below you.

God, it was beautiful.

Despite how eerie it was, it was beautiful.

The road seemed calm tonight, usually it was busy because it was a way to get to the city you just came from. Not tonight.

Thank god.

As you continued to walk down the path, cars whizzing past you at a million miles per hour, you couldn’t help but feel a small creeping sensation that something was wrong.

Something was going to be wrong.

But, for some strange reason, you ignored it. Why you ignored, you had no idea why you did, but you did.

You kicked up dirt as you walked, loving the way it looked on the ground, dancing in the gentle breeze. That gut feeling plagued you, growing more and more until-

“Hi, excuse me?”

A soft voice made you peel off your headphones, letting them fall to your neck, and look over to the road. You planted your feet and settled your eyes on the man who was still rolling down his car window.

You stepped slightly closer and put your hands in your pockets. “Can I help you, sir?”

The man was thin and pale, his features hardly in the poor light of the car. The man wore a flannel shirt and dark jeans, a brown belt holding them up. He had brown, curly hair that draped over his forehead, he had a button nose and slightly stubble. The man cleared his throat and gave a small smile, “Me and my husband were wondering if you could give us directions to hotel…hotel…Hannibal, what was the hotels name again?” The man turned to the man sat beside him.

“Cecilia. Hotel Cecilia.” The man’s husband, Hannibal, gave a thin lipped smile as he spoke to his partner. His husband looked older than him, not by a lot but enough to see the difference. He had mostly grey hair with spots of brown sprinkled about, his eyes were a hazel colour, his nose arched up in the middle but it suited him. He wore a clearly rich and tailored suit; red with a black pattern stitched into it, a black shirt and a red tie.

You listened as the man thanked his husband and turned back to you. Thinking as fast as you could, you tried to remember the way there. Then it clicked. A gentle grin slipped onto your lips as you spoke, watching the man in the drivers seat take a mental note of everything you had said. As you stopped, you looked back at the road, the headlights were the only thing stopping the inky blackness from enveloping the car and you. It was going to be such a trek and your parents wanted you home by ten.

“Thank you so so much.” The man said, “We would’ve used our phones but they’ve both gone and died, thanks to our luck.”

You chuckled along with the man’s slight attempt at a joke. “It’s no problem, I’m happy to help.”

A few thoughts ran through the man’s mind before he stopped thinking and said the first thing we could think of:

“Do you want a ride?”

That feeling crept up your spine, making you feel queasy. As nice as it was for him to ask it was still odd. You didn’t know them, they didn’t know you. “It’s fine, my house isn’t too far-“

“We insist. We would be lost without you.” The husband chimed in. “And, it is getting late, your parents would want you home, wouldn’t they?”

That feeling in your stomach reached the back of your throat, urging you to turn and run. For once, you decided to trust your gut feeling-

“Thank you but I’m alright.” Politely, you stepped away from the car and turned to keep walking. The men shared a look then looked back at you as you began to walk away.

You heard the engine stall before starting, then they took off down the road and that was the last you saw of them.

~~~

Around twenty minutes later, your trail lead you in front of a gas station. The neon lights from each sign shone onto the bleak road, painting it in hues of orange, green and white. The pale light reflected off of car windows and side view mirrors, hitting your eyes sharply.

You hadn’t drank anything in a while, plus you would have to wait an extra ten minutes to heat up your dinner when you got back home so what’s the big deal with a quick snack stop?Glancing away, you tried to check for oncoming cars and, luckily, there was nothing. Then you crossed the gravel, eventually reaching entrance to the gas station.

A satisfying ding announced your arrival to the pimply clerk behind the counter who gave you a less than enthusiastic look. Ignoring him, you browsed the aisles, trying to find anything that would be easy to eat and drink on the go. You swore to yourself; no sandwiches, no fiddly wrappers or bottle caps, just easy to open things.

Needing to keep yourself awake, you bought yourself an energy drink then you made your way over to the snack aisle which stood in front of the main entrance. As you scanned over your options, the bright, white headlights outside blinded you. Although it was a minor inconvenience, you scowled at the car, still unable to see who was driving, and internally swore at them for their accidental action.

After finally deciding on a snack, you walked over to the counter and placed your things down. You slipped your headphones down and around your neck, music paused, casting an odd silence which was subtly interrupted by the radio station which echoed from the broken speakers.

The cashier huffed and scanned the items slowly, as if even the thought of doing his job was strenuous. Your eyes wandered back out the window, tuning out the cashier slightly as your eyes scanned over the few cars that were refuelling, one was the car those two men had driven earlier.

That’s odd.

Didn’t they go flying up the road? How were they here at the same time as you if they did?

The clicking of the cashier’s fingers snapped you back to reality. “Sorry.” You mumbled halfheartedly, scrambling to grab the money from your pocket. In the midst of the scramble, you tried to pick up your drink, only for it to fall and burst on the floor. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, d’you want me to-“

The cashier sighed loudly, “No, it’s fine. I’ll get it.” Then he walked to the back, returning with a wet floor sign in hand. You listened subtly as an array of swears left his lips as he slammed the sign onto the floor and trudged over to the drink aisle, grabbing another of the same drink for you.

As this happened, and while your mind was distant from your body, the same satisfying ding rung out again. When your mind finally snapped back, you registered that someone had walked in and you glanced over your shoulder.

Then you saw them.

The two men were tall, taller than you thought and taller than you by a mile.

When you realised you were staring, your head whipped back around to the counter, fingers rhythmically tapped against the cool, grey countertop.

As the cashier you had walked back over, another from the back room walked out to help the two men. The moved to the counter beside you, only paying for a bottle of water and their gas. The cashier helping you handed the new drink to you, a forced smile plastered on their face. A small thank you left your lips as you turned and left, avoiding the men at the counter.

The cold night air enveloped you, an unwelcome sensation slivering up your spine. You glanced over your shoulder and watched as the two men walked out the gas station, their silhouettes ominously still, the light from the gas station surrounding them entirely, making them appear ethereal.

That sinking feeling slipped down your throat once again, making you start walking faster. The headlights from the car slowly trailed behind you before catching up and going just fast enough to keep you in the rear view mirror.

Maybe you were just paranoid? Who knows. At this point you were not willing to see if your gut feeling was true.

~

Your feet carried you for another fifteen minutes, leaving you with only fifteen more until you reached the safe warmth of your home and the welcoming embrace of your parents.

The turn for your road came eventually, just a small dirt path off the side of the road with pine trees boxing in each side of the road. Quickly, you made the turn, gazing over your shoulder to see if the car had kept driving.

It did.

Despite the relief you felt, that underlying tone of worry had settled in the pit of your stomach. This refused to let you calm, keeping you in a horrible fight or flight state.

As you walked down the road wearily. Your headphones stayed on, helping you tune out some fear you had. Although this worked for a while, the feeling of being watched slipped into the back of your mind. You pushed that thought down, reminding yourself you had ten minutes left until you were home, until you were safe. As hard as you tried, nothing could keep this feeling down.

Suddenly, as if out of your control, you whipped your head around. Your face dropped.

There, following you from behind, was that car, it’s headlights turned off. You hadn’t heard the engine over your music. Then the car stopped, your heart sank. Their doors opened and the men stepped out, slowly making their way over to you cautiously, as if trying to keep an animal calm. Every step the men took was calculated, deciding what would keep you from freaking out and doing something drastic.

Nothing could at this point.

You took off down the road, leaping over potholes and racing through puddles. Your clothes were ruined and you were freezing.

With trembling hands, you reached for your phone, your legs moving as fast as they could. The sound of the men’s footsteps grew louder amongst the sounds of the forest which, despite being a few feet away, sounded so distant over the sound of your heart. Your eyes moved down to your phone screen, hands racing to dial your parents or 911.

In a blur, your phone flew from your hand as your shoe caught on a rock in the road, sending you flying onto your front. You lay there for a minute, your head spinning as you thought about everything. In an instant, you snapped back, getting to your feet, ignoring the stinging pain from your knee.

From then on, you staggered down the road, your injured knee making it neatly impossible to run. That would be your demise.

The heavy weight of a blunt object, you assumed to be a crowbar, smacked against the side of your head, knocking you to the floor and leaving you partially unconscious. The immense feeling of dread spilled up and went out your eyes. Tears flowed down your flushed cheeks as the man got up and flung you into his arms, holding you against his chest, his firm hands cracking your head as if it were fine china.

“Will,” the man spoke, his voice smooth due to his prominent accent, “do you believe they will suffice?”

The other man, Will, paused and walked over, tracing a gentle hand over your face, his palm lingering on your chin as he began to brush away stray tears. “Certainly more flighty than the last one but we can deal with that later, wouldn’t want our child escaping us first thing.”

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

Finished Saturday October 5th 2024, 03:14.

5/10/24

[blogfromneptune]

MELODIC HEALING

PAIRING clarisse la rue x apollodaughter!reader

IN WHICH clarisse and her siblings got a bit carried away during their sparing matches. lucky for clarisse, her girlfriend has gentle hands and a way with magic.

w/c : 1275

a/n : dior. that’s it… enjoy :)

sweat dripped from her brow as clarisse walked through camp. her siblings had ropped her into yet another sparing tournament which she won with ease. she was rather annoyed, to be frank. she loved her siblings, yes. she also loved battles. but she had plans to wake up early to properly freshen up and take her girlfriend for a walk after breakfast.

instead, she was awoken by the sound of an argument between her siblings; two of the newer members of the cabin arguing about gods knows what. that put her on a bad foot to begin with. she spent the time she could have had getting ready dealing with them and barking at them to clean up their mess. breakfast was anything but what she wanted. she scraped her offerings into the fire silently praying to her father to show up and tell her siblings off, before she walked back to her table where her brothers were beginning to arm wrestle.

one of their arms landed in her food and instead of yelling and knocking them right then and there, she slid her now squashed food away from her, stood up, and walked away.

when one of her sisters asked if she wanted to spar, she was already fuming with her cabin, so she agreed. it didn’t take long for all her siblings to be groaning on the floor, battered and bruised. clarisse stood tall above them, her face neutral and sweaty. she tossed her spear at her newest little brother, who caught it with ease. “make sure they see one of the apollo kids, or something.” and with that, she was off to find her apollo kid.

she heard her before she saw her. the sweet humming of her girlfriend brought a small smile onto the face of the daughter of ares. the apollo cabin came into view, and there she was, sitting with her older brother, will, and one of her new younger sisters. she was doing her hair, a variation of braids and twists that she somehow made look gorgeous.

her girlfriend was humming a tune as will laid beside her, an old, beaten cowboy hat covering his face and his green flannel covering his body as a blanket.

“…she brought this on herself with her desires. Your family will be stained, gotta walk away… now.” clarisse stood off to the side for a bit, listening to whatever melody her girlfriend was singing now, until she caught her eye.

a smile grew on the daughter of apollos face as she was sticking flowers in her sister's hair, but her smile faltered.

clarisse was quick to raise her hands, grazing her face with her fingertips. she winced as they made contact with the large gash she had forgotten about. she knew she was going to get an earful…

will groaned and raised his hat a bit, peeking out when his sister stopped her tune. he made eye contact with clarisse and the ever-noticeable mark on her face. he hissed, sitting up and gripping his flannel.

“come on, skipper. let’s leave sis with her uh…” will trailed off, deciding to leave it at that. he took his new little sisters' upper arms and pulled her up, managing to get her on his back. they quickly retreated into their cabin.

clarisse was careful with her steps, biting the inside of her cheeks.

this big, scary woman, looked up to by many campers and also feared by many campers, felt scared of her sweet little sunshine girlfriend…

who could probably kill her with a single note if she wanted to.

she mounted the steps, her girlfriend looking away from her as she tidied up the elastics and ribbons. her cowboy hat rested on the armrest of the rocking chair she sat in. it was a gift from will for her 18th. it matched her perfectly; a nice beige colour with a baby pink ribbon wrapped around it and tiny string embroidery of daisies and sunflowers.

she grabbed it gingerly and placed it over her wind-messed hair. she wordlessly stood up and looked at clarisse.

clarisse clenched her teeth into an awkward smile, “hey baby -”

“clarisse la rue.”

shit.

“hun, i’m sorry -”

“let me have a look at you,” the daughter of apollo whispered, coming up on her tiptoes and taking her girlfriend's face in between her hands. she turned it side to side, up and down, examining every inch.

clarisse allowed it, bending down and looking up to the sky. she knew how much the ray of sunshine hated when she fought others. whether it be verbal or physical, it didn’t matter. clarisse tried to stop the habit once they became official, but sometimes it was hard to avoid.

and since she hadn’t gone on any quest, she didn’t have a good reason this time.

the daughter of apollo took one of her girlfriend's hands, bringing her over and sitting her in the rocking chair she had been in only minutes ago. clarisse groaned as she sat, the aching of her muscles from this morning finally catching up to her.

she watched her girlfriend go inside her cabin and then come out with a little box she had grown to recognize as the official first aid kit of the apollo cabin. she knelt in front of her and gestured for her to lean forward, which clarisse did.

with no warning, she placed a cotton pad with alcohol on it to her cheek. clarisse flinched and hissed, the liquid feeling as though it was sizzling on her flesh.

“don’t be a baby,” her girlfriend whispered, hiding the little smile on her face as she looked down to grab another cotton pad.

“‘m not being a baby.” clarisse sounded like she was pouting. she would never act this way around anyone. but the girl in front of her brought out a completely different side of her.

she adored it.

clarisse closed her eyes, letting her girlfriend hum a small tune and the gash beginning to glow. it was like the scene from rapunzel- the movie clarisse was forced to see at gunpoint (gunpoint = her girlfriend's smile and puppy dog eyes).

she felt the wound begin to close in on itself. it was still a weird feeling, despite having experienced it many times before.

“there.” clarisse opened her eyes. the first aid kit was packed up and placed next to the entrance to the cabin. her cheek didn’t hurt anymore and all that remained was a faint scar that would heal by morning.

“thank you,” clarisse grinned but it didn’t help her situation. her girlfriend raised a brow, expecting her to explain.

she sighed and reached for her arm, her own calloused and bruised hand feeling as though it was tainting the delicacy of the sun gods daughter. “just a little tournament. had to let out some anger.” clarisse’ voice was low.

the daughter of apollo took a small step, her western-style cowboy boots clacking against the ground. both she and will came from southern families, but she never showed it until she got comfortable in camp. now she didn’t hide the slight ting of an accent she had or her love for the southern style.

“i don’t like it when you fight,” she said lowly, standing in front of clarisse and both her hands wrapped in hers. clarisse brought them up and grazed her lips on her knuckles, the faint smell of flower hand sanitizer filling her nose.

“i know… i’m sorry, sunshine.” when clarisse glanced up, her girlfriend was smiling down at her. just like the sun looked down on the earth.

[lafleshlumpeater]

Could you please do a Luke x sunshine reader where Luke asks the reader on a date, and they agreed. Then, when he comes to pick them up at her cabin, their siblings interrogate him and threaten him a little if he hurts their sibling.

I hope you’re okay with child of aphrodite reader<3

Warnings: fem!reader, teasing, very slightly suggestive comment- lmk if there’s anything else<3

luke castellan masterlist

Luke didn’t know whether to be nervous or slightly flattered that he was receiving looks from the window which were impossible to ignore.

Dressed in an unbuttoned blue flannel which he’d borrowed from one of his siblings and a plain white t- shirt underneath, he wonders whether he should have opted for something more formal instead when he sees slightly mocking smirks and giggles from your fashion expert siblings.

Or maybe it was too formal.

He was unsure as to which way round he had it wrong.

And then there were the flowers. What would be more romantic, fancy, cellophane- wrapped roses or something simpler with just a satin bow? After consulting Katie Gardner, his brother’s girlfriend, about his dilemma she had snipped off some lush, crimson roses for him so the stems were short and wrapped around with a thin piece of white ribbon. Only now he realised how stupid he probably looked, a small gift so classy and somewhat luxurious and in an attire so casual.

It wasn’t an everyday occurrence for Luke Castellan to feel hot all over and want the ground to swallow him whole, but there were few and rare occurrences. Like the first time he had been at camp he had been wandering aimlessly to find where everyone was getting their food from (why had no- one thought to tell him that all he had to do was think about the food he wanted?), or when he had somehow managed to singe some of his hair off that one time he was in the Hephaestus cabin since they were in the same team as him for capture the flag (he had told them the flamethrowers were too much for their chariot) and, well, like now.

Just as he was weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of knocking on the cabin and asking for you (he’d be able to escape the taunting laughter sooner, but the overpowering smell of all the cosmetics and perfumes gave him a headache) the door finally swung open and oh if his heart wasn’t beating a thousand miles an hour before it definitely was now.

You were dressed in a sundress of pure white, that was snatched in places and hung loose in others perfectly. Your skin was smooth and glassy, reflecting the glow of the white fabric. Lips curled upwards into an easygoing smile, painted a pretty bubblegum pink colour Luke often associated with your personality. Two tendrils of hair carelessly free from the confines of the simple yet elegant style of your hair framing your face perfectly- the very embodiment of Aphrodite’s kin.

It was only when you giggle a small “Hi,” that Luke realises his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. He clears his throat, standing up straighter and hand running through his hair.

“Hey,” he stammers. “You look…”

“Oi, loverboy!” His flustered compliment is cut- off with a shout from the open cabin window. His head whips towards the sound, slightly miffed that the moment was interrupted.

Mitchell. One of your brothers.

“Treat her well, alright?”, the smug boy yells, self- satisfaction written all over his face. “And no touchy- touchy business.”

Luke’s half- tempted to grab your hand and run away from the teasing. “Uh, you-”

“Yeah, what he said! Treat her well!” Lacy’s head pops out next to her brother’s, nails half- painted where they grip the window frame. “And be back before eight, okay? We have a girls’ night planned! No forgetting, or I swear I will interrupt whatever frisky business-”

“Okay, okay!” You interrupt, vivacious laughter escaping your throat. “That’s enough, I think we get the message.” You slip your delicate hand into his, looking up at him through long eyelashes. “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke mutters with an abashed smile, relieved to be saved from the incessant torture and just wanting to get to the destination of your date as soon as possible. Just as shyly, he holds the flowers out to you, awaiting your approval.

You take them. “For me? They’re so lovely.” You inhale them, eyes fluttering closed at the fragrance. “Thanks, so much!” You reach up on tiptoes, even on white heels, and quickly kiss his cheek.

As the two of you walk away, hand in hand, Luke curses at the way his cheeks flush at the titters and hollers of your siblings under his breath.

Not proofread- pls lmk if there's any mistake/it doesn’t make sense

taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

[aly4khq]

- 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐃'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 -

- xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus -

word count: 736

you and xavier just had a little newborn baby a few months ago; a beautiful healthy baby girl. both of you agreed on the name luna, since she was born in the evening. she was born with xavier's lovely platinum hair and your eyes colour, the resemblance of both of you on her own gorgeous face. but the only downside to her is that she managed to inherit her father's stamina and your lack of sleep, which is the quite opposite of xavier. she had a lot of energy throughout the day and the night if you didn't make her work her little legs out during the sun's hours on the clock.

lately, since you are maternity leave, xavier's been working hard at the Headquarters, serving his purpose around Linkon City. every time he'd come back, it was a process of trying to get him to actually relax instead of showering, getting dressed — into his boxers and that's it — and going to bed. meanwhile, you've been with your baby; trying to help her walk, talk, not bang her head on every possible surface and keep her from attacking your hair. it was everyday that you were calling out for her name, holding her hand, prying her from things a 10 month old should be holding.

today she had a hospital appointment which required her to have 3 shots; two in one leg and one in the other. and the morning was already...hectic. "luna! look at me please." you called out, trying to wash her face in the bath, lightly holding her nape before using your hand to wash her face then lightly applying some soap. in those 5 seconds, she managed to pull away and push in one of your bath bomb. as you turned around, the sight of pink aggressive bubbles came to your mind. a long gasp erupting from your lungs as you threw the softer flannel in the bath before grabbing her out of the bath, "shit shit! lunaaa!!" you huffed.

now at the actual appointment, getting her checked in was another problem. "yes, her name is luna- LUNA! get back here!!- I'm so sorry." you apologised before running over to your baby, who was biting on some other babies toy, already fighting against them to get claim ownership. just like her daddy. your hands came under her armpits as you lifted her up onto your hips despite her protests, going back to the receptionist before finally getting into the waiting room. xavier agreed to meet with you at the actual waiting room so it was fine for you to wait. and you couldn't even explain the amount of stress that dropped from your shoulder once you saw the door open and your man come through. his voice soft and quiet as he came to sit next to you to, greeting you and d/n with a kiss on the forehead. "hi love!" "hi xav!" "gaga!"

screams and yells filled the room as the first two needles went into your daughter's skin, her hands grasping your hair with a deadly force as your tried to comfort the poor girl. "ow- okay luna baby i understand- OW! what the fuc?-" another ear piercing scream filled your ears as you closed your eyes and relaxed, xavier's hands slowly came around d/n holding her before the doctors came around to do the last one. your eyes met his as his hand went to her back, rubbing softly before using his soothing voice to calm her before bracing for the screams.

for once, she had managed to sleep in your arms after tiring herself out with her own yelling, so it was easy to put her into the backseat in her car seat. after you put her there, you went to stand when xavier grabbed your waist. he pulled you into his chest before kissing your hair. you were on the verge of just bursting out in tears, "xavier?" he softly scratched your scalp before ruffling your hair, "let it out. i know you're stressed." it's been ages since you've been about to put your guard down and rest for yourself without feeling weak. so you did just that.

he wishes to be with you all the time and help you enjoy your day without being so tense and busy. no fault to your child, she was still growing and exploring her environment but every mother and father and guardian knows how stressful a child who is in between a newborn and toddler is. "you're so strong, the strongest mother around. it's alright to cry around me, after all you're my first baby." you had just finished crying, wiping your tears but that speech made you sob again, hugging him tighter, "i love you so much..", "i love you even more."

word count: 1050

"baby please just listen- oh my gosh why do i bother-" the sounds of your son screaming and yelling interrupted your desperate attempts of trying to get him to get ready for sleep; his small figure running around the room as he continued to disobey and ignore your efforts. your duvet was half open, kindly waiting for both of you to finally lay your heads down and fall asleep on the soft material. but at this rate you might as well just prepared your bed for the morning and give up. "nix? can you come here please?"

for the last few weeks, zayne had been occupied with piles or work at the hospital and due to that amount of work he had been scheduled to night shifts and day shifts that were scattered throughout the following weeks. he'd go at night around 6pm, do whatever he needs while you deal with your child, then around 8am he arrives back. but for his sake of health, he sleeps until it's time to wake up again and head off to work — of course eating and working out whenever he has the time or he'll stuff it in sometime. to your despair, he didn't get to witness the dreadful experience of trying to get this reckless son of yours to shower, brush his teeth, get dressed and actually get inside the bed and sleep without talking for 2 hours.

luckily, tonight wasn't only you to suffer with these tantrums. zayne was finally given a day shift which meant that he'd be coming home at night and sleeping with you two. and when i mean coming home soon, i mean in 30 minutes. at this time, both of you should've been deep asleep but it was a case of '5 more minutes!', 'i'm not tired!', 'where's daddy?' your hands held your cheeks in a clear sign of exhaustion. dealing with such an active child was too much. he's only 4 years old...he's only 4— you were just like this when you were 4 __ remember.."

you sat down on the bed, his t-shirt and pyjama pants were held in a deadly grip as your heart pounded again your chest in a desperate manner for him to go to bed. just as you watched him run around in circles and yell about non existent things that you could have swore you've told him aren't even real. "nixxxiee, come on-" another ear piercing scream came from his lungs as he faced you in a mocking way. as a mother, you'd always try and deescalate the situation but your breaking point was only so durable.

"NIX!! come over here and stop screaming for God's sake!" his clothes laid beside you as your figure stood from the bed, glaring at him from across the bedroom; your mind was throbbing so hard that you could barely even hear the sounds of the front door open. the footsteps way too quiet to help your body relax or realise who had finally come home. your rage was too loud in your mind to the point where you had burst, your son stared at your wide-eyed, a confused look on your face. your tongue poked your cheek as your hands came to your hips, a foot tapping against the floor. "just wait until your father comes home. i'll tell him everything you've done in the past 15 minutes. trust me!" you scoffed, annoyed.

it was silent for a little, the only sound being your heavy pants. your finger pointed at him but his words just infuriated you further. "i don't want to tell him 15 minutes." your eyes narrowed, turing to understand whatever he was trying to say before he erupted into laughter. he was literally pulling on your last nerve, toying with it like it was a little car he was given from zayne or you. "nixie, my dear son, please just put your pyjamas on." your whines were clear enough, but he was too busy being silly to understand your stress. "oh my fucking gosh...NIX!-" the bedroom door opened and your saviour walked in, suddenly hearing the yelling. "woah, what's going on? it's 8:30."

you sat down, holding your face as your son ran around the room which a grin on his face. your body shivering at every shaky breath you took from your amount of anger. zayne's quick eyes instantly picked up on your body language: slumped shoudlers, trembling hands and legs, breaths that seemed a little bit too out of order. he placed his bag down before sitting beside you, "what's wrong? why are you upset?" your eyes met his glossy eyes, trying to speak to him with you face instead of speaking. a frown on your face instead of your usual cheerful smile, "i can't do this anymore. it's too much just to get him to bed and then once he actually listens and goes to bed, he doesn't sleep. and then i'm tired, and he's tired in the morning. then the school calls and- ugh.." your hands grasped at the locks of your hair; tugging slightly before sighing at the sensation. but before you could even understand what you were doing, another pair of gentle hands came on top of yours, taking them off of your scalp with ease. "alright—hey, let's not do that. how about i get him ready and you just rest?"

as much as that idea soothes every single knot in your muscles and headache, there was a slight pang of guilt in your chest. he'd just been working for a good shift, wanting to come home to sleep but had to deal with his son alone? "but..it's unfair zayne." as your sentence continued, the pitch lowered to a melancholy tone. but instead of both of you wondering what to do with your son, zayne laid you nicely into the bed; basically tucking you in before chuckling. his hands caressing and softly holding your head as he kissed your temple, "i'll be alright baby, believe me i've dealt with way worse children before." as soon as your head relaxed against the pillow, you were out like a light; leaving zayne to take over and deal with his son's behaviour.

word count: 746

your little 3 year old daughter was a carbon copy of rafayel; your genes didn't even fight back at all. even though you did all the work, he managed to give her his looks which made then twins. she had beautiful purple hair which grew pretty long along with his soft eyes. now, one thing about this man is that he spoils like daughter like crazy. everytime he had gone shopping or anything, he'd buy something for you and her as well. no matter how expensive or difficult to get it was. she looked up to him and you so much that whenever she did anything bad she would cry because she hated being yelling at. that's the only thing she got from you.

lately, you've been dealing with more bad days than good which someone rafayel had picked up on. after retaining this information, as your husband and father of your child decided to help you get a week off at work and gave tou as many spas, massages and take out you needed. he even took d/n to school every day and to her clubs, which you of course loved to attend. she loved sport and giving you attitude — which wasn't that bad since she knew when enough was enough. even though these past few weeks it's been mostly stress, you felt slightly weird finally not having to wake up at the same time of the sun and start working.

being married to a filthy rich man is crazy nice with his card as well. rafayel has been with her all day, as you went out to give yourself a day to yourself where you can think without anyone in your ear and breathe. it was lovely, enjoyable and you had come back after dealing with other people. you loved today...until you came home. once you entered the door, rafayel was preparing dinner while mira was in the sitting room..but she wasn't doing anything that was acceptable. after greeting rafayel with a kiss, you turned around to greet your daughter. you gasped, seeing the amount of paint on her hair and her face. "mira! what are you doing?!"

now, her hair was slightly thick and curly which obviously was absolutely beautiful but getting things out of her hair was a different type of pain. she looked at you like you grew two heads, her eyebrows risen with her arms crossed, "nothing! go away!" rafayel had also turned around seeing your instantly changed expression go from happy and excited to angry and confused. with an annoyance huff and scream, your hands covered your face as your went down and balancing on your ankles, "oh my fucking gosh.." you murmured, two hands engulfing you in a hug where you could feel the familiar chest of your husband.

"hey hey- i'll get it out don't worry." he tried to comfort you, hearing your stress filled mumbles in his chest. your body tensing was enough to give him all the melancholy that you were feeling as well. his gaze suddenly went to your daughter, his eyes held slight anger but also sadness because he didn't want to hurt your daughter as well and have both of his girls crying. "mira go to the bathroom please i'll be there in a second-" you interrupted him, standing up with the intentions of wanting to help instead, "no no it's alright. i'll do it. i've gone through this before as a child and i know what to do." as much as he knew absolutely nothing about paint in your type of hair and how to properly wash his daughters hair without any reminder, you still had rage in your body. "okay wait, let me stop the cooker and i'll be there to...supervise!"

meanwhile in the bathroom with you and mira, the amounts of yelps and screaming matches you both have exchanged was too high to count. "mira! stay.still!" you huffed, and she did the same before yelling back, "you! gentle!" all of them being resolved by rafayel in the end, "okay!— okay guys. let's just calm down!" he begged for the umpteenth time, his hands hovering over her nearly finished hairdo. your own expression upset and angry, both of you replying with the same words. "i am calm!" after a few minutes longer, rafayel decided to just take over, kissing your forehead and laying you down in bed with a face mask on. "this is your week to relax, stop stressing out." he reprimanded, brushing your hair out of your face before going back to attend to his dreadful sight of his daughter's hair. the only sound after that was now rafayel taking to her and the soft droplets of water from the shower.

word count: 925

sylus and you both had beautiful baby twins; a girl and a boy who were just as similar to you too as the others were. the girl, syia— which came from sylus's name — looked just like him coincidentally. her beautiful misty white hair and her deep red eyes complimented her well yet her complexion was more of a darker tone. meanwhile, your son, samien, — which was a name that you've been wanting to call your future son for ages — looked like you. he matched with your darker coils of hair, and his beautifully coloured eyes. they were the best children you could as for.

TIME SKIP DOWN THE LINE — it's their 10th birthday the second biggest milestone of their birthday lifetime after their 1st. both of them had grown to dislike the others hobbies and be completely opposites if they could be. if syia wanted to have a blue theme birthday, samien would want an orange themed one instead. so this is what you dreaded on every plan. one thing that they've inherited is sylus's need to get what he wanted which had added onto the stubbornness that they got from you making it extremely hard to solve any argument in between the troublesome twins. which is where we are in the present day!

"no! it's better to have a red birthday because read is prettier than a pink themed birthday!" samien argued back at his sister, not only being insulting but using his hands to push her away from his face. syia retaliated, pulling his hair with aggression. "it's basically the same thing idiot! you had your amazing blue themed birthday last year where i had to agree to!" hearing them both attack the other one, you went out to scold her for that language before stopping and gasping at what samien replied with. "you're such a bitch!" your head peaked out from the bedroom upstairs with an angry expression. "hey! both of you, cut it out. and i don't want to hear that language either." scoldingly, your finger pointed at the two of the rascals.

syia finally scoffed before sighing and slouching her head, "okayy mum...i'm sorry-" just as you went to sigh and web then for a second time, samien interrupted you harshly. "shut up! you're a bitch too!" the tension in the atmosphere grew intensely as the two girls stood still in disbelief where as the boy stood there in rage and smugness. his hands on his hips as he went to mock you. rage growing in your body as you grunt your teeth. "yeah, exactly—" he paused. all of you did. the scenery sudden went dark and mysterious as an uneasy feeling filled the air. a presence that you knew a little too well due to the fact that it was—

"sylus!" you exclaimed, happily smiling at your husbands arrival. the look on his face wasn't definitely not pleased at all, matter of fact even you knew that look and how badly it scared you when he had it on his face. his footsteps were heavy against the marble floor as he strolled over to his son with his hands in his pockets and a rough gaze on him. "...sylus..?" you called out for a second before your smile turned to a frown as you stared at syia. "what did you say?" sylus spoke, his voice heavy with disgust and his finger tapping against his trousers. "um..i- ow!" he grasped samien's hair before tugging slightly. your mom senses kicked in, you quickly skipped over to sylus holding his arm that was holding s/n's hair tightly. your eyes widening. "okay! that's enough!"

"what did you say samien." he repeated again, his voice filled with displeasure and frustration as samien groaned out in anger and pain. syia just chuckled to herself as you stressed out with the two boys, your own hand going up to grab sylus' hair before pulling as well. after he hissed at the pull, he caught your wrist, letting the poor boy go. "i'm not going to repeat myself." your own spine shivered at his tone as you stared at s/n begging that he'd respond. "...i called her a bitch—hey!" sylus lightly hit the side of his head; not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to keep his attitude in line. "you'll treat your mother with respect and that's all you'll treat her with. i don't want to hear that language again. do you understand me?" in a hurry, he responded, "yes dad..!"

after the tension died down a little and sylus finally pulled his gaze away from him, he turned to you. meanwhile, you were attending to your son's scalp— it was completely fine but you were against it — "sylus! you didn't have to pull him so hard! he's red!" you complained, hitting his shoulder. "no he isn't." once you turned around, sylus grabbing your waist before pulling you up and threw you over his shoulder. your legs kicked as you yelled out loud. samien and syia laughing horribly at your terrified situation. "sy-LUS! oh my gosh! let me down!" he chuckled, deep from his lungs before walking upstairs in his basement, still speaking to the two children downstairs. "both of you will have a red and pink birthday, it's gonna be mixed around so deal with it. and no complaints or i'll cancel the whole thing off." he narrowed his eyes at the two behind him before shutting your bedroom doors behind you two.

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 19-21/08/24

i do not give permission to repost or share/copy elsewhere!

[arrowfleur]

Redacted Head canons ੈ✩‧₊˚

✧.* Freelancer is such a loser but they’re so unaware of how loser-y they are that they’ve gone full circle and are cool as shit

✧.* Sam is tatted as shit but none of them show since he’s always in a long sleeve flannel. Whenever people see the tattoos it comes as quite a shock but he suits them so well.

✧.* Morgan barely ever reads the news but he always picks up a paper because he loves the puzzles and crosswords

✧.* Angel has so so many accessories for their outfits and after they moved in with David he built them a personalised hidden cupboard to store them in for an anniversary present

✧.* Gavin has a pierced tail and horns with little heart jewellery in them. He just walked past a piercing shop one day and was intrigued since they don’t do that in Aria

✧.* Sweetheart is so good at style. They love going thrifting and finding pieces for all of their friends, especially waistcoats and jewellery.

✧.* Baby hates wearing chunky bracelets/necklaces now, they don’t like the feeling of the weight but can’t pin-point why

✧.* Asher went to a class to learn how to braid babes hair for them. Babe dyes his for him, no lessons just winging it but it turns out 10/10.

✧.* Lovely wears contact lenses a lot as part of their style, they have contacts of their original eye colour but haven’t been able to bring themselves to put them in.

✧.* Morgan has a ‘Sam’s flannel’ sized collection of plaid pj pants. He was wearing them when his listener turned up to his house.

✧.* William has never moved on from the partner he had before he was turned. He’s forgotten what they sound like.

[lizzy06]

Kirishima Eijirou x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

Kirishima Eijirou Fic Rec Masterlist

Real Enough; Pro Hero Kirishima x Reader ✨by rjbaxter (angst, fluff, smut)Your quirk allows you to show people a part of their future. Once seen, you can help guide them through important life decisions to an extent. Pro Hero Red Riot saves your life one day and gets hit with your quirk. He sees his future and hopes he can make it real. This will be a slow burn with angst, fluff and smut.[COMPLETED]

baby are you playing tricks? (cause you look like a treat)✨✨ by @andypantsx3/ andypantsx3 (oneshot, fluff , humor and skippable smut at end for sfw readers!) Dressing up as sexy Red Riot for Halloween had been embarrassing enough on its own. Then you actually run into Red Riot.[COMPLETED]

Good things come to those who wait ✨by @dira333 / Fogfire (oneshot, fluff)Falling in love at first sight, but never getting a chance to act on it. Until…[COMPLETED]

Care for me✨ by @dira333/Fogfire(oneshot, fluff)You're there to care for your boyfriend after his wisdom teeth get removed. That's it, that's the fic.[COMPLETED]

sweet like you ✨by @ererokii (oneshot, fluff)Class 1-A decides to help a local animal shelter by doing a bake sale, and you and Kirishima are in charge of the baking.[COMPLETED]

Soulmate AU Series: Eijiro Kirishima✨ by @confusedblakex (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)The day you get your soulmark, except you didn’t find your soulmate the way you expected. [COMPLETED]

A life with you… ✨by @lelawrites (oneshot, soulmate au, mentions of past bullying, slight angst, fluff) In a world filled soulmates that couldn’t see colour without making eye contact, your quirk made people able to do so and it made your life hell. That is, until you meet your own soulmate.

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 7: Running from Pain✨ by @writing-freak (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) in a world where you feel every ounce of pain your soulmate has, you spend your entire childhood trying to keep your soulmate safe, and it seems like they have the same idea. that is, of course, until you’re off to the support course at UA, and find yourself in all sorts of trouble. you don’t feel so bad, though, cause whatever your soulmate is up to seems to be creating the same amount of pain for you as you’re creating for them.

Pretty/tumblr link ✨by @alkhale/alkhale(oneshot, fluff) Two times Kirishima Eijirou tries to shout to the world how beautiful you are. And the one time he says it.[COMPLETED]

Paws for Panic ✨by Hero234(oneshot, fluff)When chaos strikes and quirks collide, one innocent collision turns pro hero Red Riot into an adorable red puppy! Little does (Y/n) know, that the newly turned pup is none other than her favorite hero, and he understands more than he lets on. Unaware of the puppy's true identity, (Y/n) spends the day pampering her fluffy victim.[COMPLETED]

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐌𝐀! ⏤EIJIRO KIRISHIMA ✨by DollReMi (single parent! reader, fluff, angst) As a single parent, you struggle to play the role of mother and father for your son, Ren. However, you don't have to stress for too long when the same pro hero your son adores comes to your rescue in the most unexpected way.[COMPLETED]

A Helping Hand✨ by WitchofWriting(oneshot, fluff) Kirishima basically lives at the gym. His kindness - which to him is just common decency - catches someone's attention.[COMPLETED]

Red✨ by coffeerepublic(oneshot, fluff)You help your friend with dyeing his hair. (The complementary feelings come free of charge.)[COMPLETED]

 Last Minute by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, fluff) Where you tell your feelings to Eijirou kinda last minute.[COMPLETED]

Find What You're Seeking ✨by coffeerepublic(oneshot, fluff)For now, all you were able to register was Eijirou, and yourself, and the negligibly small amount of space between you that seemed wider than the distance between stars.[COMPLETED]

Mistakes Were Made by itbeajen(oneshot, coffee shop au, fluff) Making drinks for a group of people was hard. Especially since orders were confusing and it was highly likely that a mistake could be made. But maybe this mistake in particular was a godsend for the future.[COMPLETED]

The Pizza Delivery Guy by iluveggs(oneshot, college au, fluff) Your roommate orders a pizza with the special instructions, “send your cutest delivery boy ;)” and you’re left in complete awe when it actually works.[COMPLETED]

Perfect ✨by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, hurt/comfort) You weren’t trying to be problematic– really you weren’t. Most of your complaints arose in regards to a single volatile topic.[COMPLETED]

Third Wheel ✨by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, fluff) You squint and try to find him, but there’s only a dim outline of his form in the darkness. “Where’s Eiji with the sn–” You don’t get the chance to finish your question.[COMPLETED]

Manly Things✨ by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff, hurt/comfort)“It’s not your fault.” You whisper it like a prayer. Then you repeat it, punctuating each reiteration with a kiss to his cheek, his nose, his chin. Still, you can tell he doesn’t believe you.[COMPLETED]

Dibs by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff) No. You shoot him a cautionary glare, just daring him to try and do what you suspect he wants to. His lips twist upward, and soon he has a toothy grin spanning the entirety of his face. No.[COMPLETED]

Better Late Than Never by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, musical au, friends to lovers, fluff)Not that you need more with Kirishima. Friendship is fine. Friendship is awesome. Sure, that intense look he gets whenever he practices makes something curl up on itself deep in your belly. Sure, whenever he gives you one of those playful pats on the back, you wish he would linger for just a little bit longer.[COMPLETED]

Sick Days by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, hurt/comfort, fluff)You were a mess–a sniffling, wheezing mess. Not that Kirishima didn’t think you were drop-dead gorgeous, snot and all. But really, you looked sick. Very sick.[COMPLETED]

Waiting by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, hurt/comfort) You hold your breath, half-expecting another call. It never comes. Those three little dancing dots–the ones that tell you a person is typing–stay there for at least five minutes. The message you finally get back, however, is short. b there in 10. [COMPLETED]

Walls by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, mentions of past abuse, hurt/comfort) When had you begun to trust him enough to let him past that wall of yours?[COMPLETED]

“i’d do anything for you” by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which kirishima helps you throughout the day and you finally ask him why he’s always so nice to you, gaining a response you’d never had expected. [COMPLETED]

“if you win, i’ll take you out tonight” by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff) in which you’re performing at the ua pageant and get a surprised visit from kirishima with a proposal in mind. [COMPLETED]

Love Handles ✨by terminally_Volatile(oneshot, chubby! insecure reader, fluff, humor) Kirishima Eijirou is known throughout U.A. for his unwavering enthusiasm, amazing use of his quirk, and (mostly amongst the ladies) his incredible physique. He captures the hearts of many young girls who swoon for his attention, but what will they say when they see the human piece of rock dating someone his complete opposite? A girl made of soft skin and big thighs? [COMPLETED]

sunlight ✨by @bluebellhairpin (oneshot, fluff, fantasy au)As a dark fae, Kirishima has a kind soul but a wary heart so as to not make others afraid. You, a light pixie, bring him out of his shell like a moth to flame. [COMPLETED]

Soulmate by @pink-imagines (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) A red string, tied around your pinky finger. Everyone had one. They led to the person that you were going to spend the rest of your lif with. You other half. Your soulmate.[COMPLETED]

infinity by @k-atsukidayo (oneshot, angst, soulmate au)summary: kirishima struggles to tell his soulmate that they only have a month left to live. based off of this song.[COMPLETED]

words by @confusedblakex (oneshot, soulmate au, angst with happy ending) Kirishima always wondered why he had no words on his wrist, but when he meets you it all makes sense.[COMPLETED]

“I can’t keep kissing people and pretend that they’re you!” by @your-local-bnha-writer (oneshot, angst with happy ending) [COMPLETED]

Unexpected Surprise  by @sparkexplosive (oneshot, unplanned pregnancy, angst, fluff) Dear Eijirou, I’m so sorry, but we can’t be together anymore. [COMPLETED]

When Kirishima Snaps by @explosivenebula (oneshot, protective! kiri) Mineta approaches you once again with his crude language and unnecessary proposals. Kirishima gives a firm impression that he’s not happy, but finally snaps when Mineta refuses to cease his advances, and takes things too far.[COMPLETED]

Kirishima Period Comfort by Frozen_Princess_Shay(oneshot, fluff) our period cramps are trying to kill you. Ejiro noticing something is wrong starts to worry.[COMPLETED]

oranges by wagiyuubeef (ABO verse, fluff, angst, jealousy)You've been by his side for as long as you can remember — from way before either of you even presented — but now it felt like you were slowing losing him to another Alpha who went by the name of Bakugou Katsuki. Or were you?[COMPLETED]

legacy by moegan(oneshot, arrange marriage, fluff, angst, smut)After an arranged marriage to the Prince of Dragons, Kirishima Eijirou, you decide you do not want to live your life in a loveless relationship, so you attempt to get to know him. After some time, you realize that he was keeping something very important from you. How are you supposed to help him if he won’t come clean?[COMPLETED]

[sparxwrites]

It’s two in the morning when Gem wakes up to screaming in her castle.

The noise is coming from the entrance hall, and it sounds like neither a wither nor a warden, so she figures she’s good to head down in just her pyjamas and her little silk house-robe. Her sword is a comforting not-weight in her inventory, visible a half-dimension away when she lets her attention slip to the peripheral of her vision. Whatever it is, she’ll be fine. It’s probably some bugged zombie or something – if it’s not just some new god-awful prank from Grian, or Scar, or both. 

(She’s heard that thing under Scar’s base. It’s horrible. If they’ve put one of those in her castle, she’s going to kill both of them. Even if it was just one of them that put it there, she’s going to kill both of them. On principle.)

It’s not a bugged zombie, or a prank. It’s Pearl – also in her pyjamas, red flannel and a button-up shirt – hunched over, pulling at her own hair, howling. Her eyes are huge, wet, the pupils blown so large they’re almost black. There’s dark bags under her eyes, no colour in her skin other than high spots of red in her cheeks, the red of her nose where it’s running.

She’s barefoot – and that shouldn’t be what makes Gem’s heart break in two, but it is.

“Hey, Pearl,” she says, gently, raising her voice to carry over the wounded wailing. “Pearl! Hey. Can you look at me?”

She feels like she should have expected this, really. She’d heard from Mumbo what Grian had been like, after that first game, the one he’d won. She’d not been close enough to experience it first-hand, but she knew it’d been bad. She knows that winning those games is really more of a loss, than anything.

Pearl’s head snaps up. The howling stops, or rather transitions, turns into a choked gurgling, a gasping, this awful and wrenching sobbing like she’s gagging on her own saliva and desperately trying to swallow her screams. Her eyes are hollow, empty, nothing behind them but fear, pain. There’s something else there, too, some kind of deep and welling existential terror that makes Gem want to take a step back. 

She doesn’t, but it’s a close thing. The back of her neck prickles, the hairs on the back of her arms standing on end. She swallows, instead, and forces herself to take a step forward, towards the fear.

“That’s good,” she praises, “that’s great, Pearl, good job. Well done. Now. Can you tell me what’s going on? Seems like you’re having a bit of a rough time, huh?”

When Pearl rushes at her – hunched, animal, too-fast and skittering and staggering – she still doesn’t back up. 

She does, however, flinch. Her gaze slides to the peripheral, again, to the sword there. Just for a moment.

Pearl doesn’t seem to notice. “Tilly,” she gasps, grabs at Gem’s wrists. Her nails dig in, overlong, and draw blood. “Where’s– Tilly, what did they–” Her gaze sharpens, but only for a moment, and there’s still no sense in it. “What did you do to Tilly–”

Like this, this close, skin-on-skin contact between them, Gem can feel how hard she’s shaking.

“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” says Gem, as calmly as she can. “Can you tell me where you think you are, Pearl?”

Pearl gurgles, an awful noise. and tips forward. She’s still clutching hard enough to draw blood and, when she falls into Gem’s chest, she’s as cold as the night air outside. Her shaking rattles Gem’s ribs.

“He left,” she says, wet, like a child. “He left, he– he killed, he died, he killed himself, rather than– than be with me. He hates me. He wanted to get away from me so bad that he, he, he–”

She howls again, then, a noise of raw and ragged pain that seems to tear its way out of her like a living thing. 

There are tears soaking through Gem’s pyjamas, and her heart breaks a little with it as she carefully, carefully, shifts a hand to cradle the back of Pearl’s head. Her wrists are bloody with nail marks, and some of it catches, smears in Pearl’s wild hair. She tries not to worry about it. They can wash it out later.

“Shh, shh,” she murmurs, pets at the tangled mess beneath her hand, holds Pearl close while she works through another bout of screaming. “Shh, shh, shh.” She takes them both to the floor, slowly, legs going out from under them as Gem lowers them down. “I’m here, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

“He hated me,” moans Pearl, between sobs, when the wailing has passed. The shaking is slowing, easing a little, the agony giving way to a slower, bone-deep hurt, the madness passing into grief. “He wanted to die rather than stay.”

That’s not true, Gem thinks, and she thinks Pearl knows that too. But she doesn’t say that. Now is not the time for saying that.

What she says, instead, is just, “I’m here. And I don’t hate you.” She hesitates, for a moment, and then leans forward, curls over Pearl where they’re sat tangled together on the floor. Presses her lips to the top of Pearl’s head. “I’m here,” she says, and means it, “and I’ll stay. For as long as you want me to.”

[supernotnatural2005]

That’s my girl (Drabble)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Daddy!Dean, fluff

AN: Not gonna lie, i saw this gif and this is what came to me 😅

My Masterlist

“Oh wow. Aren’t you quite the artist.” You praised your 5 year old as you moved to sit beside her at the kitchen table.

She beamed at you before concentrating back on her work, her tongue peaking out from her lips in the most adorable way.

Dean brought you over a cup of coffee and you mouthed a thank you, not wanting to disturb your daughter.

For a moment you admired her beauty. Her vibrant green eyes and freckled dusted nose, resembling that of her father’s. But she had your hair and shaped nose.

Sometimes you couldn’t quite believe she was real. She truly was a miracle.

“Finished!” She suddenly exclaimed and dropped her crayon to the table. “Do you want to see mommy?” She asked you sweetly and you all but melted.

“Of course i do.” You told her honestly and she gave you one of her toothless smiles. She slid the paper over to you and you made sure she could see as well.

“Wow. This is beautiful sweetie. Is that Mommy?” You pointed to the stick figure with your hair and eye colour.

“Yes.” She told you, joyful you’d gotten it right.

“And this is Daddy.” She pointed to another stick figure beside you. She’d got the flannel down to a T. “And this is uncky Sammy.” She mispronounce adorably and pointed to a much taller figure. She was probably the only person alive on earth, Sam allowed to give that nickname.

“And this is uncky Cas.” She pointed to another stick figure, with his trench coat and all. However you frowned at the black blob beside you all.

“And what’s this?” You asked carefully, not wanting to insult her work.

“That’s Baby silly.” She told you as if that were obvious and giggled. “Daddy said she is just as much as family as we are.”

You raised a brow at Dean as he walked over with a plate of pancakes and set them down on the table.

“That’s my girl.” He ruffled her hair before forking two pancakes onto her plate. She clapped excitedly, Dean’s pancakes being her favourite.

“Daddy also said Baby is special, because it’s where i was made.” She told you around a mouth full of pancake and you looked at Dean in horror, whose eyes were just as wide as yours.

So much for the bribe of pancakes to keep that quiet.

AN: Gah it’s a short one, but it’s what popped into my head! I hope you liked that little twist at the end, i can imagine Dean having a daughter and her picking up his hustling ways. Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  MY YOU

SUMMARY : part v of gimme half. the first valentine’s day with dean winchester and he is just absolutely adorable… for like the first half of this fic, the other half is filthy.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v

WORD COUNT : 1.9k

A/N : jung kook song title. my you is why I have the #my dean ✨ tag ☺️ I don’t know if I named the cat before, but the cat's name is Mona-Lisa now and he’s a boy! oh and happy birthday @girls-alias💓

When you got home from work you didn’t expect to open the door to your cat, Mona-Lisa, frolicking in a path of colourful rose petals leading up to your bedroom. You smiled at the sight of him as you stepped out of your heels and shoved them into the corner with your foot—next to Dean’s boots—to put away later. 

Mona-Lisa had a few red and pink petals stuck to his sharp teeth and some stuck to his soft, furry body, but he gladly accepted his fate when you picked him up in your arms. Dean was the culprit behind the romantic scene of your darkened home and it made you smile, your stomach jittery despite never really giving a damn about some stupid love holiday. 

Mona-Lisa’s cute paws rested on your shoulders and his nose nuzzled into your hair before he decided to take a bite out of your shoulder when you continued to carry him up the steps. It was a soft and playful bite for the most part, and it made you laugh.

When you got to your bedroom, where you suspected Dean was waiting for you, Mona-Lisa sprung from your arms to get through the barely-opened door. Dean had his back to the door and a lighter in his hand that he used to light one of the many candles he’d placed in your bedroom. 

“Wow, if there’s a fire, I’m suing you,” you teased with a grin, watching Dean turn around carefully to avoid stepping on Mona-Lisa—who was walking in circles around Dean’s feet with his tail up. 

Dean smiled shyly, clearly caught off guard. “Hey,” he greeted you, placing the lighter next to the candle he just lit. You walked towards him and let him wrap his arms around you while his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day?” He shrugged, sounding a little unsure of whether or not he was supposed to say that. “Should I have asked you to be my Valentine? I- uh, I’ve never done this before,” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

You cupped his flushed cheeks and brought him down for a kiss that made his shoulders drop. Dean breathed softly against your lips and melted into you. His hands moved down to your hips and they flexed over the softness of your dress before he pulled you closer to him. 

“I… I don’t think you need to ask,” you smiled, kissing him softly when he dove back in for more. 

“Then… what do you think?” He chuckled, slowly sliding his hands down to your ass. He squeezed gently and you bit your lip, hesitantly looking away from his adorably flustered face to admire his work. “I’m not being cheap,” he began to explain himself, “I was just, uh- well, I didn’t know if you were the type to want to celebrate Valentine’s Day— not that there’s anything wrong with that— and I really just did this last minute for you. You know, in case you were into this t-”

“Dean,” you interrupted his rambling with a small giggle. He exhaled and forced a laugh to convince you that he was being cool. “I love it, and.. you look so cute standing right here like this, so stop overthinking it,” you reassured him, gripping his flannel to pull him down for a longer, deeper kiss to express your gratitude. 

Dean’s hands moved lower to your thighs and you felt him bend his knees just as he titled his head, parting from your lips for a quick breath. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you in his arms, and your legs squeezed his hips. 

You buried your fingers into his hair, moaning against his mouth. His hands moved along your back, over your legs, squeezing and kneading. He moved towards the bed, stopping momentarily when his knees hit the mattress. 

He held you tight and lowered you onto the bed carefully, his lips hovering above yours. His green eyes travelled over your face and you averted your gaze as if it would stop him. Your hands slipped away from his hair, your legs fell open, and you turned your head to the side, relaxing despite the nervous thud of your heart. 

Dean’s lips latched on to your neck, his stubble scraped over your soft skin. Your eyes fell shut and you shivered. Arousal began to warm up your body and dampen your underwear. Dean nipped at your skin, pressed hot, open-mouth kisses over the skin not covered by your dress, flicked his tongue over your skin. 

“Where’d you get all this stuff?” You whispered, grabbing a handful of flower petals and candy from the bed before letting it fall back down. Dean slowly turned away from your chest with a playful laugh getting muffled against your skin. 

“I stole those roses from Poppy, or whatever her name is, two houses down. And… those are the leftover chocolates from the Halloween bucket… and… well, I always have candles just in case,” he told you, nuzzling the side of his face into your breasts. You smirked at him, but then your eyes softened when he looked up at you, his thick lashes fluttering against his freckled cheeks. 

“Hunting stuff?” You asked, sneaking your hands under his warm flannel to push it off his shoulders. Dean pushed himself off you to shrug the thick shirt off his body and you bit your lip. His t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest and his jeans did the same over his taught thighs. “Are you wearing cute Valentine’s Day lingerie underneath?” You teased, hooking your fingers on his belt loops to tug him closer between your legs.

“N-no? Should I?” He teased back, teasingly letting his fingers glide along the inside of your thighs. 

“Next time,” you murmured, pulling his belt with a pout.

“Next time,” he breathed out a laugh, undoing his belt with one hand and lifting your dress up your thighs with the other. “Are you? Wearing pink lingerie underneath?” Dean hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and waited for you to respond before tugging them down.

“No,” you grinned.

“Good, I would’ve ripped it off you anyway.” And he did just that, in one swift move, your underwear tore audibly, and he threw it over to the floor carelessly. 

“Poppy’s going to kill you for damaging her roses,” you mumbled against his lips—which were stretched into a mischievous smile. Dean slowly pulled away with a few final pecks to your lips  and started going down your body, his breath puffing over your glistening cunt.

“Only if she finds out it was me,” he hummed, his warm tongue licking up from your entrance to your clit. You gasped and pressed your head deeper into the mattress, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands gripping his hair. 

Dean made you come twice, once with his thumb on your swollen clit and his tongue inside your pulsing walls, and a second time with his tongue on your clit and three of his fingers inside your used cunt. 

You whined and whimpered his name as your body convulsed and your legs shook beside his head after each orgasm. Your body couldn’t handle much more, but Dean was persistent, encouraging and comforting you. 

He paused momentarily as you caught your breath. Your head buzzed and your vision was blurry, your heart pounded in your ears, and your skin was flushed. Dean bunched your dress at your waist, your nipples were hard and sensitive from his mouth and his fingers, but goddamn, you wanted more. 

You could feel Dean’s gentle fingers on your sloppy cunt, soothingly brushing his thumb around your overstimulated clit. His tongue lapped at yours and you could taste yourself in his mouth, his lips were glossed with your release, but you didn’t care.

You weakly held his taut biceps, your nails clawed at the hard muscles as they moved with every dip of his body into you. The cotton of his t-shirt brushed against your pebbled nipples causing you to shudder and moan into his skillful mouth. 

“One more,” he murmured, sucking on your bottom lip before pushing three of his fingers back into your slick pussy. You inhaled sharply and scratched his arms when he knowingly curled his fingers into that same spot inside you over and over.

“Dammit… Dean,” you sobbed, your body tensing, head turning to the side. Your stomach fluttered with excitement despite the shake of your legs on either side of Dean’s hips and the quivering of your cunt. Dean breathed heavily above you, his chin tucked into his chest as he stared shamelessly between your legs. 

He continued to thrust his fingers into you, shallowly and precise, driven by the pornographic sound of his fingers plunging into your wet heat and the breathy sounds of pleasure you made. Your hands twisting in his shirt and you cried from how sensitive you were, only partially amused because it felt so good all at once.

Your body was overflowed with so much happiness and pleasure that you completely let go as your third orgasmed seized your body. A moan of Dean’s name caught in your throat and all that left your kiss swollen lips was a strangled sound of bliss. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispered against your jaw, his eyes fixed between your legs, “that’s right, sweetheart.” His teeth sank into your jawline and you felt him slide down between your legs. He used his tongue to lap up your release from your dripping pussy and kissed your thighs adoringly.

“I…” you exhaled, eyes opening slowly to look down at Dean between the wet mess between your legs. “Fuck, d-did I..?” You couldn’t finish the sentence as embarrassment burned at your cheeks, but Dean looked more than pleased with himself as he licked his fingers clean of your fluids. 

“Yup, and it was hot,” he smirked, which magically made you feel slightly better about squirting. Dean pulled the dress from your waist, nearly yanking it down your weak legs to join your ruined underwear on the floor. 

You sat up carefully, frowning at the wetness on the bed that Dean didn’t really care about. He pulled his shirt over his head and you imagined that you literally drooled at the sight of him and his flushed skin. It was covered in freckles and scars, and it always managed to look pretty and hot. You snapped out of your trance when he unbuttoned his jeans and started unzipping them. 

“You said one more,” you complained with a laugh, watching him slip out of bed to remove his jeans and boxers properly. You changed your mind when you saw Dean’s cock, the way it throbbed and bounced as he climbed back into bed between your legs. The wet tip was glistening with smeared precum that continued to dribble out of the slit. “…But I’m glad you lied,” you grinned, pushing Dean onto his back when you kissed him. 

“I didn’t lie…” he pouted, his dimples deepening above his lips. You tilted your head and gazed down at him with an expression of amusement on your face, your eyes glittering with internal laughter. “…I… just lost count ‘cause you’re so hot.” 

Dean smoothly slipped out from underneath you and draped himself over your back. He kissed your shoulders and lifted your hips to position his cock at your soppy entrance. You moaned instantly when he pushed himself inside you, silky skin sinking easily into your wet cunt. 

“Waffles for dinner?” He panted into your ear, the grin on his face seeping into his voice. 

“Yup,” you moaned, reaching between your legs where Dean’s fingers were toying with your sensitive clit. 

➥

taglist

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[chopinski-official]

Chopin’s Wardrobe — What I Wore

Today I would like to share with you all the manner in which I dressed. It is interesting to see how fashions have changed over the course of 200 years. Some might say style has slipped… Anyway! Here are some details on my wardrobe:

My Suit

I liked to wear sober colours: black, mauve, blue… and especially grey. For instance, I once asked Julian Fontana to have made for me a pair of dark grey winter trousers, without a belt, which were smooth and stretchy.

Grey trousers, 1840.

At a concert in Glasgow, a pupil recalled that I had worn a pale grey suit. Which included a frock-coat of identical tint and texture.

(Left) Frock coat, 1840. (Right) Frock coat and trousers, 1852.

Under my suit, I would wear a modest waistcoat in a fabric such as a black velvet with a tiny inconspicuous pattern, something very quiet and elegant.

(Left) Provençal waistcoat with mauve silk seedlings, 1860. (Centre) Waistcoat with floral pattern, 1838. (Right) Striped waistcoat, 1850-70.

My preferred shirts were ones made of cambric or batiste fabric. They had small mother-of-pearl buttons, two breast-pockets, and could be bought for 14 francs.

For my cravat, I would wear muted colours during the day. Usually, I would tie it in a bow. However, when performing in a formal setting, I would wear a broad, white silk cravat.

Winter Clothes

To keep warm in the winter months, I wore a thick redingote or over-frock coat, as can be seen in this daguerreotype of myself from 1849.

(Left) Wool coat, 1840. (Centre) Winter costume. Paul Gavarni, 1846. (Right) Frock coat. Wool, trimmed with silk velvet. 1820-1830.

At one point, my sickness rendered me so sensitive to the cold that I wore three flannels under my trousers.

Underpants, mid-nineteenth century.

Accessories

Because I had small feet, I often found shoes uncomfortable. I mourned the day, Moos, my shoemaker died. No one made my shoes like him.

1840s men’s shoes.

On my head, I would always have my hair curled, and, when outdoors, I would wear a top hat. I bought my hats from Dupont’s because he made them lightweight. They were originally made of beaver felt but, by my later life, they were made of silk plush.

(Left) Top hat made of beaver felt, 1830s. (Right) Top hat made of silk plush, 1850.

My outfit was only complete with white gloves. Without them one would not be in good taste. Kid gloves were common, but I also liked wearing Swedish (suede) gloves. Always in white.

Evening gloves. 1848.

A pocket handkerchief was also a necessity.

Finally, I had a miniature pocket watch. According to one concert-goer, it was “In shape no bigger than an agate stone, on the forefinger of an alderman.”

Where did I shop?

I bought my top hats from Dupont’s at No 8, rue de Montblanc (the previous name for rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin). I lived on this street myself, both at No 5 (1833-36) and No 38 (1836-38).

(Left) 9, rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin, the fabric shop across the street from the milliners, 1840s. (Right) Rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin, 1858-1878.

My shirts came from No 37 in the Palais Royal galleries, on the theatre side.

(Left) View of the Galerie d'Orléans in the Palais-Royal, 1838. (Right) Jardin du Palais Royal, 1840s.

The white suede gloves could be acquired from À la Corbeille de Fleurs, Houbigant’s shop at No 19, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré.

(Left) The corner of rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, 1820-1840. (Right) Faubourg Saint-Honoré, 1814-1885.

There were also many shops along the Grands Boulevards. This is where I got my trousers made by my tailor, Dautremont.

(Left) Boulevard de la Madeleine, 1799. (Right) Boulevard des Capucines, 1830.

Boulevard des Italiens, 1840s (left), 1835 (right).

So…

As you can see, in spite my reputation for being picky and perhaps… prissy, with regard to fashion and furniture, I was far from what was called a dandy. My dress was never over-the-top and nor did I put on the airs that were so pertinent to dandyism. My desire, if anything, was to be refined and respectable. Although, perhaps my efforts to do so were occasionally cause for frenzy or distraction.

[crimsonred-hi]

Masterlist

Hozier x Reader

Style, or lack there of

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: Where did Hozier suddenly get all his style from? He comes out of his 4 year hiding for ‘Unreal Unearth’, all the flannel have been replaced with shirts and all his jeans have been replaced with nice trousers. Why? Because he got a girlfriend, who doesn’t let him walk out the house looking like a butch lesbian

Cats or Dogs

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: reader is a cat person, her boyfriend, Andrew, is very much a dog person. And at this point in their lives, they want another living thing to take care of in their shared home. The age old question of cats or dogs stumps them, because they can’t agree

Freckles

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: the summers in Ireland are slowly getting hotter, and that makes the garden seem more inviting.

Are you cold?

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: Your from a warmer climate, and despite friends and family telling you that you wouldn’t cope the cold, you decided to spend Christmas and the time after it with your lover in Ireland… and it’s fuckin cold

Da, it’s Da

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: in Ireland and the northern parts of England (where I’m from), a child would never call their father ‘daddy’, for the mere thought of ‘Daddy is for gals with issues and gay men with bigger issues’ (which is true). So, I believe Andrew would want to be called ‘Da’ like most other fathers… so yeah, Andrew arguing with his and Reader’s child about what the child should call him.

Everything, Everywhere

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: his lover is laying there, laying under 6 feet under the grass. Gone to the world. The love of his life: gone. Yet, he stills comes every week, to smile at her, and tell her that one day he’ll join her, but he promised her to live to the fullest… so he will.

What do you mean grey?!

Pairing: dad!Andrew Hozier-Byrne x wife!Reader.

Summary: Andrew with his beautiful hair and beard, he’s very proud of them both: of the length, the colour, the health of it. And one day, one very long day, where he’s spent his whole day being stern dad to his daughter, and at the end he gets in bed with his wife and the mother of his child just for her to notice something in his hair.

Mine : Ours

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader.

Summary: Andrew meets his son for the first time, and he’s a bit angry about it. Because after 10 years, reader kept his son from him.

Work Song

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: Andrew and his lover have a little cuddling after their time together.

Grip

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: At a dinner party, he’s jealous over your coworker.

Wash Day

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: Wash day is Sunday, so Andrew and his girlfriend get in the shower together (not sexually).

Vinyl

Pairings: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Summary: He’s got new vinyls coming out, but his girl needs to approve first. Because her opinion is most important.

Headcannons

Hozier

Age Gap

Controversial Age Gap

Pregnancy

[kometqh]

Comfort Touch

╰┈➤ Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

╰┈➤ Warnings: fluff turned to light spice

╰┈➤ Summary: What happens when amidst a fight you forget your date with Ethan?

╰┈➤ Word Count: 1.7k

Jazz music and various voices filled the crowded restaurant, the aroma of different Italian dishes mixed together and wafted through the space, and the clang of utensils on plates seemed to be too loud for his thoughts.

Ethan sat at a small, wooden rounded table in a faraway corner of the restaurant, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram and furiously tapping his foot on the floor, listening to the mild chatter. The long, taper candle in front of him gently swayed its flame and crackled from time to time.

He agreed to meet at 7PM sharp, and yet he arrived about ten minutes early, nervously nodding his head as the waitress assigned to his table attempted small talk.

'Yeah, I've got a date! I'm very nervous haha', is all he said, her words falling on deaf ears as he continued wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans before being led to the table he had reserved.

And now, it was just a minute before seven, and his heart was beating rapidly, thoughts running wild and eyes looking around the room, his phone long forgotten as his hands fidgeted with the table cloth.

The sound of heels clacking against the hardwood floor caught his attention.

Time seemed to slow down, voices turned into white noise as the sound of his own heartbeat turned him into a deaf man.

Her long, burgundy red dress hung on by two thin straps, revealing her shoulders and collarbone, and the soft fabric embraced her curves before coming to a loose end at her ankles.

Her hands clutched tightly onto the strap of a small handbag, and her eyes looked around the place nervously, skipping from head to head, in search for one particular man, as she came to a stop at the admissions desk.

He stood up from his seat, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him as he realised how underdressed he was for the occasion, cladded in a simple white t-shirt, black denim jeans and a black denim jacket.

For his very first, and certainly not last, date with his crush. The most beautiful, smart and funny woman he has ever laid his eyes upon.

Her bright, wide open eyes met his, and the corners of her mouth tugged upwards as the waitress led her to their table. Her cheeks had a red tint to them, one that seemed to match the colour of her dress in intensity.

Ethan's body stiffened, his mouth went dry, his palms suddenly felt clammy and sweaty, as if he hadn't been wiping them every 15 seconds on his trousers since his arrival. He moved away from his seat, and closer to her only to stop by her chair, moving it out before she could do so herself.

The waitress placed two sets of menus in front of them, saying she'll be back in a couple of minutes to take their orders.

You slowly took in a deep breath, fidgeting with the edge of the white tablecloth, waiting for him to speak, or to at least stop staring.

A long minute passed before he cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his neck, snapping back to reality.

"You look beautiful, Y/n." He said quietly, looking down at his lap, making a poor attempt at hiding his blushing face.

You chuckled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"You don't look too bad yourself," you retorted, reaching for the drinks menu, "though I must say, you really made an effort." You continued, restraining a chuckle as the blush on his face intensified in colour.

"What can I say? My wardrobe mostly consists of sweatpants and flannels," he responded, smiling lightly, "Chad had to drag me out to at least buy something."

You smiled, making eye contact as Ethan looked over the menu too, his hand finding it's way up onto the table and to your own hand, the other flipped the page as he read.

The two of you ordered your foods and continued chatting throughout the entire night, and as he walked you back home, he had asked to go on another date soon. That led to multiple dates over the span of a few weeks, which led up to now.

Ethan nervously stood at your door, pacing back and forth as he waited for you to come out. He could hear your voice shouting, which caused anxiety to creep into him.

He knocked on the door again, and this time your voice went silent. He could hear you approaching the door as you stomped towards it.

The door swung open, and he was met with your tear-struck face and frown. He had never seen you like this, and it felt as though his heart was being squeezed in an imaginary palm. The bouquet of your favourite flowers that he held were lowered down to his thigh, and his eyebrows scrunched up closer as he stepped inside.

"Ethan? Why are you here?" You asked, stepping back, your breath shallow and voice strained. Had you forgotten?

"I came to pick you up? For our date?" He asked uncertainly, closing the door behind him. He placed the flowers on the floor, and moved his hands to your face, thumbs gently wiping away the tears, he continued, "Is everything okay? I heard shouting."

You shook your head, grasping his hand with your own, looking away.

"Yeah. Everything's okay. But I don't think I'm in the state to go out." You said, attempting to lighten the mood as you sniffled.

Your eyes moved to look into his, and your gut twisted as you saw the worry in those chocolatey-brown eyes.

His lips were parted as though he wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat.

He shook his head and pulled you into a hug. You sniffled and stifled a sob, stuffing your face into his shoulder, letting silent cries out.

"We can watch a movie? You can choose. We don't have to talk about it if you don't feel like it love." He said quietly, his large hand gently stroking your hair, twirling random strands around his finger as he comforted you.

After a minute or two. you lifted your head, nodding at his earlier suggestion. The fabric of his sweater was now stained wet with your tears, but that didn't seem to bother him.

"I'll grab you a shirt, come." You said, tugging at his hand as you led him to your room. Your roommate, Anika, was on a night out with her girlfriend, so the two of you had the entire apartment to yourselves.

Ethan shook his head, and pulled you to face him.

"Go sit on the couch baby, I'll grab your duvet and I'll make some food okay?" He asked, cradling your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours for an answer. When he received none, he continued to walk with you to the living room, gently pushing you to sit on the couch.

In just a couple of minutes, he had brought over your duvet and two pillows, and now you were looking for a movie on Netflix as he stood in the kitchen, shoving some popcorn into the microwave.

His footsteps resonated within the room, and before you knew it, the two of you were in each others arms, sat up and watching Twilight.

Upon Ethan's suggestion of course.

It was one of those movies that could awaken your inner Mindy, the over-analyser and critic, all in one.

Your eyes were solely focused on the TV, Bella's dialogue filling the otherwise quiet room.

Ethan stared at you instead, brushing his fingers along the side of your arm, occasionally placing soft kisses on your neck and cheek, brushing the tip of his nose against your skin, muttering sweet nothings and whispers of comfort, as well as a couple of 'I love you's'.

Your breathing had steadied, and your tears eventually came to an end. The beeping of the microwave cut through the silence, but it was ignored by you both.

Only 10 minutes in, and you were already laying down, facing Ethan as you two mindlessly stared into each others eyes.

"Do you...wanna talk about it?" Ethan asked, a soft tone accompanying his voice, his eyes searching yours.

Exhaling loudly, you closed your eyes and nodded.

"It was my older sister. She was mad over something and projected it onto me." You said quietly, lips quivering at the thought of her harsh voice, spewing insults at you over something her fiancée had done.

"I'm sorry, I completely forgot about the date. I'll make it up to you okay?" You asked before placing a light kiss on his lips. Ethan nodded, smiling, and laced his fingers into your hair, pulling your face back to his as he deepened the kiss.

A gasp left your lips, and you shifted a bit, with Ethan moving to lean over you slightly, the movie long forgotten.

Your hands glided over his chest, feeling his abs through the soft fabric of his sweater. They were the remedy to your sadness. Satisfying to the touch and to the eyes.

Ethan supported himself above you, propping himself up on his elbow above your head, whilst his other hand stroked your cheek, then slowly slid down to gently grip at your neck, just how you liked it, rubbing at the soft skin with his thumb.

After a long moment, it continued its way down, down your chest and to the hem of your shirt, where his fingers lifted the material and traced circles into the skin of your stomach.

Your own hands flew up to his curls, scrunching them in your grasp, grazing your nails lightly against his scalp before tugging at the roots lightly, earning a gasp from the male.

Ethan smirked into the kiss, his hand caressing your waist. Your skin felt hot under his touch, and the argument from earlier evaporated from your head under the heat of the kiss.

The two of you continued for what seemed like forever, but were soon interrupted by the beeping of the microwave.

You pulled away, and Ethan half groaned, half moaned, licking his lips. You giggled and stared into his eyes as his hand tucked away strands of your hair. Smiling, you whispered,

"I think you should get the popcorn."

[lonewolfwriting89]

PRIMAL

Alpha!Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: His skin was scarred, mapping his dangerous past, displaying his masculine strength. A true Alpha. His hair, dirty blonde, was wild, stray strands dipping into his molten gaze.

Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Alpha theme. Hints at Werewolf!Simon

A/N: A very late kinktober fic, hope you all enjoy 👻😈🐺 apologies for missing in action lately xoxo

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Maybe it was the sunset.

Maybe it was the impending rain.

You didn’t know what it was, but there was something different. Something electric. The dying light bled down through the trees across the face of a man that you thought you knew. There was something in that filtered light of early evening that made him even more desirable. A way that urged you to act on those fantasies that you had kept hidden in your secret heart.

You could smell the coming rain on the wind as it drifted lazily through the maze of trees and brush, the smell of summer. Maybe spring was known as the time for lovers, but the summer had always done it for you. Hot and moist, at times; pungent. Like the light scent of his sweat that teased your nose.

Simon exerted a kind of benevolent control over you. He had since the day you had met him, standing against a tree and watching you walk along the worn path beside the creek that led through the deep, dark woods. You’d asked his name many times, but he would never tell you, and he never asked for yours. How many weeks had you been walking with your new friend? Three? Four? And yet you still didn’t know what to call him.

This day had been different from the start. For one thing, the way he was dressed. He was leaning against his tree, as always, but gone was the rugged flannel shirt and heavy boots. He stood there nonchalantly in nothing but his faded black jeans. His feet were bare against the floor of the forest and his broad, triangular shaped torso disappeared into the narrow band of his pants. For the first time you were being given the opportunity to take in the sight of the muscles that had teased your waking dreams for the last few weeks. You were tortured with wonder at the thoughts of what was under his tight shirts, the muscle apparent, but modestly covered.

You liked what you saw. He was well built, rippling muscle tense and solid. His skin was scarred, mapping his dangerous past, displaying his masculine strength. A true Alpha. His hair, dirty blonde, was wild, stray strands dipping into his molten gaze.

“Can I walk with you?”, he asked. He always asked the same question, never presuming. You smiled when you said yes. Could this handsome man really be so naïve as not to realise that the only reason you walked in the woods everyday was to see him?

Your hair was tucked deftly away from your face, underneath the hood of your red sweatshirt. The red of the shirt was the only splash of colour to stand out amid the lush greens and earthy browns of the woods. You wore cut off denim shorts and trainers below the red sweatshirt, enjoying the silk of air as it brushed your bare skin. The flapping tails of your white cotton blouse fluttered in the breeze where they hung from under the sweatshirt.

You both walked along the edge of the creek together for some time, watching as the sun began its descent in the western sky and the rain clouds began to gather darkly in a line to the east. The scent of copper came on the wind as the smell of the distant rain blew through the forest. The leaves turned their white undersides skyward with the updraft of the wind.

And that was when you came to the full realisation that you wanted this man. Right now. This quiet, unassuming man who walked and spoke with you for hours, never needing anything from you in return. That he didn’t seem to need you, made you want him more. Simon wasn’t aloof; he was just comfortable, confident. The smoothness of his walk and the grace with which he moved belied a sense of pure unselfconsciousness. The Man in the Woods was truly at home in his skin. At home in the forest.

Simon looked you in the eye and knew what was on your mind immediately. You looked away nervously, wondering how much truth he had seen in your face. You had nearly been lost in his frosted steel gaze. Lupine eyes.

“I want you—I’ve always wanted you”, he said matter-of-factly, “Will you have me?”.

“What?”, you asked, incredulously. You knew you heard him, but his words had stunned you momentarily.

“What did you say?”.

He stepped closer to you and you involuntarily backed away from him. When your back came into contact with the trunk of a large oak tree you abandoned your thoughts of flight. Where would you run anyway? Did you even want to run? The unexpected nature of his advance caught you off guard. It wasn’t how you were used to being approached by men. It wasn’t a corny line in a city bar. It was an honest, up front statement and a serious question, spoken with a purity of mind and an innocence that was out of place in such a lustful proposition.

“I said, I want you. Was that clearer for you?”.

You didn’t move, the stability of the huge tree at your back helped to hold you up on wobbling knees. You didn’t speak, your lips merely trembled.

He leaned against the tree, an arm on either side of your head, as he leaned slowly down, putting his face level with yours. His scent surrounded you, drowning you in an overwhelming lust. Simon whispered again, “Will you have me?”.

You lowered your glimmering eyes and reached your hands out, taking his hips and guiding him against your body.

You felt Simon’s muscled chest pressing against yours, forcing your shoulders back against the curve of the tree trunk, making your breasts stand out, high and proud. He took the zipper to your red sweatshirt and brought it down slowly, in one fluid motion, sweeping it from your shoulders. He stripped you of the sweatshirt and discarded it at your feet. Your nipples pebbled under your flimsy blouse, poking out under the white cotton.

His hand snaked up your body from thigh to breast, his fingers capturing your nipple, rolling it, pinching it. You mewled softly, turning your head and closing your eyes, taking in every sensation.

He leaned in and you tilted your head to receive his kiss, your mouth slightly open, lower lip still trembling. You felt the familiar hot, wet sensation in the juncture of your thighs, but rarely this heated or this soaked. Your pussy pulsed along with your pounding heart and you began to subtly thrust your hips forward, grinding your mound into the hard bulge in his pants.

Just short of completing the kiss, he stopped, extending his tongue slowly and softly, tracing it delicately along the edge of your lips. Feather soft and deliberate, his tongue stretched out and licked your full lips. Your tongue waited impatiently, desperately wanting to reach out and welcome Simon into your mouth, but you held back. The longing was exquisite torture and you were about to burst when he finally crushed your lips to his.

Too soon he broke the passionate kiss, pulling away from you with a quick, soft bite to your lower lip, tugging it gently with his sharp teeth. Had they always been that sharp? Your mind was hazy with pleasure. With one hand he pulled your hair, maybe a bit too roughly, but you had no complaint. With the other hand he began working the button and zipper of your denim shorts, expertly opening the front of your pants to his exploring fingers. Your soft cotton panties were pink and offered no resistance as his hand dove beneath the thin elastic waistband, to your boiling centre.

Simon’s thick fingers nudged and teased your engorged clit, stroking it softly. He nibbled at your neck, drawing your skin into his mouth and brushing it lightly with his tongue. The pressure of his teeth and the softness of his tongue combined to drive you over the edge.

Buttons be damned, you thought, ripping open your blouse, exposing your firm, peaked breasts. Your own hands found their way to his head, entwining fingers in his silken hair and urging his head down to your breasts. Simon happily complied, moving down and sucking one pert nipple into his mouth. As you moaned from the new sensation at your breast, he slipped a finger tentatively inside of you, eliciting an even stronger moan.

As with your lip, he bit softly on your nipple and tugged, slowly rolling his tongue over the puckered skin surrounding it. He pulled you away from the tree, just far enough to slip the white cotton blouse completely from your body, and then he pushed the bare skin of your back against the rough bark, as he moved to your other nipple. You squeezed and released handfuls of his hair, pressing his face to your chest, as he dropped the white blouse on top of the red sweatshirt. Fabric becoming damp from the dew on the floor.

A small cry escaped your lips when the long, thick finger in your pussy found just the spot. Taking that cue, he concentrated his ministrations in that area, and soon you were cumming, walls spasming around his digit. Your body went rigid against the tree, eyes squeezed tightly shut, as the small spasms coursed through you in slow, undulating waves. You pressed yourself greedily against his hand, wanting the waves to go on and on. The sensations at your breast and core were overpowering, your body shuddering, breath ragged.

The distant rain finally caught up to you both, coming down through the heavy forest canopy, making the woods around you sizzle with every little drop. The cold rain on your hot skin sent up little plumes of steam, and Simon let out a moan of pure ecstasy, low and drawn out, luxuriating in the feel of the water on his flesh. He turned his face up, letting the rain drip lazily onto his face, into his mouth. You cast your eyes down and watched the tiny rivulets making their way down his muscular chest and abdomen, through the little line of hair coming up from the waistband of his jeans and disappearing into them.

Brazenly, you allowed your tongue to follow their trails, dragging your tongue hungrily down Simon’s neck, biting and kissing as you went. Down over his chest, stopping to lick and suck his nipple. Biting and kissing down over his stomach, you soon found yourself on your knees in front of him, eyes fastened on the tautly stretched fabric of the denim over his crotch, the shape and size of his cock obvious as it pressed against his hip. You nibbled along his shaft through the jeans, up to the head and back down, pressing soft kisses against the bulge.

Simon felt he was going to explode when you dragged your teeth firmly along the same path that you had just nibbled, your hands coming up and massaging his heavy balls. He groaned gruffly, fists clenched at his sides, fighting for control.

The button was hard to open, due to the tightness of his pants, but you managed and your fingers took the clasp of his zipper, pulling down slowly, one agonising tooth at a time. When you finally had lowered the zipper enough to allow, his cock sprung out, achingly hard and visibly pulsing. With every beat of his heart it leapt slightly. The head was a dark purple and the shaft had one large vein running across the top. It disappeared into the patch of wiry hair at the base of his abdomen.

A glistening drop of clear liquid formed in the slit at its crown and you darted your tongue out, touching it briefly to the tip of his cockhead. The little drop held to your tongue in a long, thick string before breaking and dropping onto your bottom lip and chin.

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you gripped it firmly, giving a little squeeze and watching with delight as more of the clear liquid oozed out. Simon groaned again, reaching out and placing his hands gently against the sides of your head, urging you forward, pleading wordlessly. You looked up and met his gaze, staring down at you with pure black eyes, hungry and needful, almost violent in their gleam. His lips were parted and he breathed slowly and heavily through his mouth, his chest heaving.

One long shiver coursed through his entire body when you finally bent your head and took him into your mouth. Your eyes had been just as hungry as his and you devoured him ravenously, sliding your lips up and down his hard length, feeling every ridge and sinewy knot beneath the skin. You let your saliva pool on your tongue and spread it liberally over his shaft, slipping your mouth down until your nose was pressed into his hair, and then pulling back slowly with a long sucking motion, before diving right back down. You took him into your throat and coaxed him with the muscular contractions you could produce, summoning the load from him. You pulled back once more and heard him grunt and then groan again, feeling his cock swell further in your mouth.

“Not yet”, he breathed, desperately pulling his throbbing hardness from your mouth. He was going to explode if you didn’t stop and he had very precise intentions for his seed. It was not to be wasted.

A few more loving licks along his cock was all you had time for before he grabbed your shoulders and brought your to your feet. Once again, he pressed your back against the oak tree harshly.

Simon slid down your body onto his knees, his tongue delving quickly into your naval, and then dipping down to the edge of your pink panties. As he nuzzled your sex through your shorts, he slipped off your shoes and socks, his big, calloused hands slipped leisurely up your legs. From your ankles to your knees he teased your skin with his fingertips, a slight tickling across the backs of your knees. His hands reached up behind you, grabbing your ass and pressing your body to his face. Simon grabbed the loosened waistband of your denim shorts, brought them down smoothly and you stepped out of them, arching your back against the tree for stability. Just as quickly he brought his hands back up and grabbed the elastic band of your panties and brought them down, baring your completely to his eyes.

Ravenous.

Leaning his head forward, he placed a firm lip kiss above your cleft, inhaling your scent deeply as he pulled away. Driven by your smell, he lunged at you, biting into your hip, the last vestiges of his self-control being all that stood between pleasure and pain. A surprised gasp, followed by a soft moan, answered his bite.

The rain began to come down heavier, the canopy of the forest barely slowing the drops. A cool wind picked up, twisting through the trees like a sentient being, seeking and finding the two lovers. You both shivered, but only partly from the chill.

Simon picked up your right leg and placed it over his shoulder, spreading your for his kiss. His tongue moved out slowly, finding your clit, engorged and reddened. Pulsing with animalistic desire. You raised your head and cried out, one arm bent back along the trunk of the tree, the other holding his head. You involuntarily ground your pussy onto his face, hard against his mouth. Your left leg nearly buckled when he curled his tongue around your clit and gently sucked it into his mouth, coaxing your orgasm in much the same way you had attempted to bring his. He sucked at you softly, yet voraciously. He was a man starving for you, trying to engulf you entirely into himself. A deep, resounding growl rose from his throat, the air vibrating from his lips and sending you once again over that edge.

You let out a small scream just as a distant clap of thunder began to rumble over the forest. You rode the waves of the thunder as it faded away. You cried again, another orgasm ripping through you, pulling your entire being to your centre. To his mouth.

The tree bark was rough on your back, possibly cutting your flesh, but you were beyond caring. You leaned forward, pressing harder to his lips, and then slamming yourself back against the tree in pure wantonness, over and over. There was no pain. Only blinding pleasure.

You didn’t realise it when he brought your leg from his shoulder and back to the ground, so lost in ecstasy. Your body trembled still, the remnants of the climax still rippling outward from your core, as you sagged against the oak, eyes closed. Every nerve in your body refocused its intention to carrying on the devastating feelings coursing through it.

The ripples were coming slower as the thunderstorm grew ever closer. You tried to sink into the tree, to feel everything at once. You felt the cool rain dripping on your skin, a trailing drop running to, and then going around your nipple. You curled your toes into the wet, mossy ground. The soft murmur of the rain on the leaves sang to you.

A loud, obnoxious clap of thunder brought you out of your reverie and your eyes snapped open. You gasped, startled, as you realised that you were face to face with Simon again. He was gazing at you with a predatory gleam in his icy eyes.

In one move he was against your body and inside you, sliding up into you as you stood against the tree. With his hands on your hips Simon raised your body and lowered you onto his cock, thrusting himself madly into you, too insistent to care about anything else.

You turned your cheek against the tree, exposing your neck, and he could no longer hold back. A bestial groan escaped his lips, followed by a snarl through clenched teeth. Every muscle in his body was wire taut, the force of his thrusts lifting you from your feet, suspended between the tree and Simon. You planted your feet firmly on top of his thighs and rode him, taking each pounding stroke as deep as gravity and flesh would allow.

His eyes remained focused on the smooth curve of your neck, the delicate slope to your shoulder. The need began to slip from the corners of his mouth as he saw and heard your pulse. Simon couldn’t take it. He lunged forward and bit you, hard. Too hard. You cried out, but you never broke your stride. He tasted a small bit of your blood on his tongue and it drove him to the point of rage.

Lightning split the sky just above, with an instantaneous crack of thunder. Not far away from you both, a tree fell, burnt and smouldering. The rain was pounding down on you. The wind drove it down and into the forest, hard against your rutting bodies.

You screamed with another orgasm and he howled with rage, pain and lust as he emptied himself inside of you. Thunder and lightning crashed above you, pale in comparison to the rapacious nature of the beast coursing through both of you. Simon looked into your eyes and saw the lightning flash. You looked into his and saw the truth of what he was. Half man, half beast.

You rode out the storm and the passion, moving slowly, kissing and touching. Caressing. You brought your feet back to the ground, pumping your hips slowly, letting him go soft inside of you as the storm blew away, almost as quickly as it came.

At last, he slipped from your core and he stepped away from you. You said nothing. The rain dripping from the forest canopy, the receding thunder, and your breathing were the only sounds. With his hand he softly stroked your cheek, gazing intently into your eyes. Then he turned and walked away, naked, into the heart of the forest.

You watched him go, wondering if you would ever see him again. Touching your hand to the bleeding bite at the bend of your neck, you winced absently. The pain was negligible, but it would surely leave a scar. A scar that would undoubtedly tie you to him.

The thunder rolled on and a wolf howled in the distance, answered by the howls of many others. Through the canopy of trees you could see the moon trying to peek out from behind the lingering storm clouds.

Only now, it seemed to call to you.

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