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#why are you centering your white self in even THIS? like
firelise · 8 months
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A lot of white people recommend reading books by non-white/marginalized authors exclusively as a way of "building empathy" for other cultures as if empathy is like a vitamin deficiency or a fad diet and I just want yall to know you can just read books because they are good and you enjoy them.
I, a caribbean-american person, read books from other cultures all the time and never once does "building empathy" or checking a marginalized group off a list cross my mind. Be normal. Enjoy stories because they are good.
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corbinite · 2 years
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Ecofascism is "environmentalism" through the lens of blood and soil. It's about the "purity" of what you put in your body, of the people who own a land, and of the land itself. It's about not wanting to be "tainted" by "savagery" (note this is not nonviolence even if it tries to look like nonviolence). It's about land Belonging to white people and white people being entitled to a version of stewardship through dominance and blood ties. And at its core it's about ownership over nature and over the people who are degraded to be seen as less human and therefore "ownable". That's why ecofascists treat marginalized people as if they were invasive species.
Veganism is about nonviolence. That's it. It takes many forms but it is inherently about nonviolence and a REJECTION of ideas about any hierarchical nature of humanity or the earth. Veganism is not eating plant based because it's more "pure" or "wholesome" or even because it's less environmentally impactful on average. It's just a commitment to nonviolence.
How many of you claiming that veganism is ecofascism can actually list off the traits of ecofascism? Was my first paragraph the first time you've actually seen the word defined instead of just being used as a vague "veganism is colonialism because of [insert whichever factoid you wanna play telephone with this time]"? Was it the first time you heard an explanation of what it was past "well the maga shaman guy didn't eat meat so you connect the dots"? (which wasn't even true, he eats *organic* and that includes meat). Do you think you can identify and fight ecofascism without a working definition of the ideology? Let me clarify, I'm not even saying your definition is wrong. I'm saying you don't have one. If you don't actually have a model of what ecofascists BELIEVE IN to reference, do you think you can pretend to be an authority on how to fight them? The end goal of ecofascism is genocide justified as "fighting overpopulation" and "keeping the land under its rightful protectors. It has to be actively and competently opposed at all costs. You cannot be an activist on vibes alone. You certainly can be a reactionary though.
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ronanceisintheair · 2 years
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You're such a teaaaaase - give us that good good Nancy/Eddie Bestie content
Now I just hyped myself up for yall to get the blandest hc:
Anyways st*ddie would not happen because nancy and eddie become besties. Which is more realistic, nancy isn't sat here calling him weird ecru m every second because she's actually an open minded understanding person.
So you ask how are these things connected? Here's how, at first maybd eddie does think he has a crush on st*ve, from hearing about him through Dustin, he thinks maybe he ain't so bad.
And so he talks to Nancy about what it was like dating the hair.
And you know, Nancy is too good to outright bad mouth this man's, I don't share that sentiment, but she'd definitely say something like "he's changed". Even though I wouldn't say he's changed more so just shifted a little
(has this guy once legitimate checked on her? I don't think so. Instead too busy talking about what he wants in life after complaining all day of being the babysitter-maybe his thoughts negate themselves🤡)
And eddie would just be like hell to the no. He would not come within a tenfoot pole of this man. You can just see, even through the small moments with chrissy, that eddie wouldn't be taking any of that shit.
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maengekyou · 5 days
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i know this is a naruto blog but i need the world to know how much i hate halsin (and gale)
#that's it#that's the post#whenever i see fanart of them i just go /urgh/#such talented artists but goddamn looking at them gives me the ick#like halsin is the type of guy who thinks you're flirting with him bc you ask how his day was#(which is kinda canon bc he falls in love with you no matter what you say to him. even if its purely platonic and you turn him down)#yknow like the one male friend who tells you he has feelings for you and you gently let him down bc he's your friend and you like him#and he says he understands and its ok but every time you dare to laugh at his jokes or show interest in his life#he jumps back to his delusion that you might fall in love with him in the future as long as he tries hard enough#and you tell him again and again and again#and you somehow make it work until you find someone you like and then he gets angry at YOU bc its not him why is it not him#in the end you two are no longer talking bc his ego is too big and you're the problem anyway its your fault your friendship is over#also in real life he'd be the guy who does mushrooms and stuff bc he's in close touch with nature and he has learned so much about himself#while being high (and he won't shut up about it)#he'd listen to electro and reggae (bob marley. yknow. he wrote a song about women and how awful they are! “no women no cry” hahah. RIGHT?)#just the typical white dude with helper syndrom who thinks he is going to /help/ children in africa out of poverty after school#who doesnt use sunscreen bc its carcinogenic but uses vegetable oil instead#and then his skin turns that leathery bronze color after repeatedly getting burned#who walks barefoot 99% of time but has one pair of shoes: the ugliest pair of barefoot running shoes the world has ever seen#oh and gale is just way too egoistical and self-centered. like the way he boasted about being in bed with a goddess?#thats just peak male behavior and no thaaaank you#omg just ignore me i dont know what happened xd
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tuesday in the park (a.d.)
pairing: divorced!art x reader
synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.
warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk
notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!
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City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.
Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.
Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…
And then suddenly… another pattern.
A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.
You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.
It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!
But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.
You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?” 
“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.
“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”
“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”
The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”
“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile.  And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”
“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.
“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.
The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”
“Come on, Daddy…” 
“No way.”
“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,
“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”
The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too. 
“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”
He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.
He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”
You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.
He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”
It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.
He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”
You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.
(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)
“Thanks, um…” he trails off. 
You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.
He nods. “I’m Art.”
He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,
“Nice to meet you, Art.”
He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved. 
“So what brings you out here?”
“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”
“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”
He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”
And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”
You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”
“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”
The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an interpreter.”
His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”
“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.
“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”
“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”
“But not today?”
You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”
“Fuck.”
“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.
Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”
You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”
He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”
“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”
Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.
You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”
But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.
Oh.
You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”
Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”
There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…
“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered. 
If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.
“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”
“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”
The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.
Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”
“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.
“Oh! Um…”
And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”
Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter,  “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.
“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”
“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.
The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”
You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”
He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.
Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.
“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.
“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.
His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.
“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”
“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”
She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.
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peppertoastuniverse · 3 months
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pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.2)
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Part 1 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚ ☆ The Theory of Relativity by LuckyGh0st [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 11/13 chapters ] #gojo just loves you so much in this one You've lived your life without purpose. It's always been simplicity - sugar, flour, butter, mix, sugar, flour, butter, mix, simplicity, stability.
Everything changes when you find a man, bloody and beaten half to death, laying discarded in the snow.
or, Gojo Satoru is transported into a world where he doesn't exist, where you stand to change the course of everything with nothing but a kind smile and a generous hand.
☆ beyond the unending night by @stellamancer [AO3/tumblr: long one shot] [status: completed ] #the intensity of this fic omg
it is october 31, 2018— halloween in shibuya.
and you are trapped.
(you are unfortunate enough to be trapped in shibuya on october 31, 2018 in more ways in one. after many trials and many errors, you come to the conclusion the only way out is seeking out the man named satoru gojo.)
☆ you are not a god (just the man i love) by haveuseenthis [AO3 ] [status: completed ◦ 2/2 chapters] [slowburn] [tw!ptsd] [friends to lovers] #SUPER SOFT SATORU
they said gojo satoru was a god. unreachable. faraway. meant to be alone. but you knew better.
☆symptoms and causes by @lostfracturess [AO3/tumblr] [status: on going ◦ collection of fics 13/?] [professor gojo x med student reader] [smut!] #pep is OBSESSED wit this AU he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.
☆out of the shadows by @extralively [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed ◦ 50/50 chapters + extras! ] [slow burn] [eventual smut!] [original female character] #pep's fav OC character #the CHEMISTRY?
No one had expected Gojo Satoru to form a friendship with the unknown girl that joined school in the same year he did. Not even Gojo Satoru, or Yura herself, especially considering he’d been an asshole to her the first time they met. A complicated friendship was born, one that would last years to come no matter how many headaches the white haired menace would give her – he was like gum in your hair, she mused, too much work to cut it out so why even bother trying?
☆ gods, monsters, monkeys by yuzudrops [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 23/23 chapters + extras!] [SUPER slowburn] [eventual smut!] [original female character] [student gojo!teacher reader (but they get together like 10 YEARS after)] [angst] #pep binged this so hard #complex/strong oc
“I thought it’d be you, if I’m being honest.” “It’d be me who what?” “Who’d go mad. Who’d go on a killing spree. Who’d just wake up one day and decide none of us are worth anything.” “Damn, sensei. Didn’t think you thought so little of yourself.” Didn’t think you thought so little of me simmers beneath. She wonders how Gojou, of all people, knows which lines can’t be crossed when his entire Cursed Technique is full of asymptotes.
A grossly under-qualified graduate of Jujutsu High is hired to teach a class of Special Grades. They learn there is more to power than strength. It doesn't end well.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
bonus! satosugu!
☆ to feel is to love by cj_ackerman [AO3: 10/10 chapters] [status: completed] [satoru x suguru] [tw!ptsd] [college!AU] #this was so so so cute #soft sugu x soft toru
In another universe, instead of his eyes being the most powerful asset, Satoru is blind. Because of this, he’s mostly alone, unable to be the star child his high-ranking parents wanted him to be.
It’s Suguru Geto that makes him believe he deserves to be loved, and that he is seen. Suguru learns that to feel, is to love.
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banj0possum · 1 year
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Infernal Infatuation
Demon x Gn Reader
I've had a little idea for a while but never managed to write it out. This is gonna be a 2-part fic so better strap in folks :)
CW: murder, gore, shit friend-group, brief mention of animal slaughtering, demonic themes
🔥 You cursed yourself as you sat uncomfortably squished between the car door and one of your friends who didn't even awknowledge your distress.
🔥 Why did you have to listen to your friends? Why did you agree to their text about joining them in trying to perform a "cool demonic looking ritual" they found online? Why is this car so sticky???
🔥 It was loud and generally overwhelming inside the car, blaring music was coming from the speaker, everyone was moving around and singing along to the songs at the top of their lungs, and it looked almost 2am from how dark it was.
🔥 Your friends figured that you all could get in trouble if you performed their little "game" where lots of people could see and decided to drive out somewhere along the highway that had little to no people passing through, especially during that time of day.
🔥 One of your friends, Justin, remembered an old abandoned warehouse that was near and unmonitored, the perfect place to mess around.
🔥 The car turns and drives off the road, rolling along a bumpy terrain as you can see the warehouse grow closer as the car's headlights illuminate its rusty exterior.
🔥 An uneasy feeling grows within your stomach as everyone gets out of the car laughing and checking out the building. You can't keep your eyes off it as its old walls held a sense of dread and doom.
🔥 Audrey, the one who asked you to join, wrapped an arm around you and laughed. "What are you doing you weirdo? C'mon! We got a monster to summon!" She jokes as she catches up to the others. You sigh and shake off the last bits of fear in you.
🔥 Audrey takes out her phone and reads the instructions for the ritual. Your other friends helped in lighting candles, drawing the pentagram and sigils while Justin recorded everything, laughing like it was some everyday prank. You just sat there, getting more and more concerned about the situation.
🔥 You ask Audrey if you could leave, the scene getting a bit much for you but she scoffs, calling you a pussy. Your brow furrows and you sit back down, very hurt by her comment.
🔥 Once everything was set, everyone stood around the pentagram. You join hands as Audrey reads out the chant, Justin still snickering to himself behind his phone.
🔥 "Oh yeah, it says everyone has to make a blood sacrifice of something but we got that covered." Audrey laughs and pulls out a jar of blood from the duffle bag she brought. Apparently they just took the blood from a pig and settled on it, but you feared about the consequences of cheating the ritual so you take a small knife you carry around all the time for self defense and cut a tiny slit in your finger, you drop it in the center while everyone carelessly pours the pig's blood in.
🔥 Everyone goes silent before a low rumbling is felt in the ground, like the earth itself was pulsing.
🔥 Suddenly, the candles are blown out, the smoke from the wicks swirling around the center of the circle as the ground shook violently. Everyone but you start exclaiming in astonishment like it was a magic trick in a circus.
🔥 You step back as the swirl of smoke forms into somewhat of a humanoid shape. The pentagram starts glowing red as the smoky figure opens its pitch eyes, the smoke dissipates to reveal what looks like a man, his grey skin was scattered in black tattoos that covered his arms and back as well as parts of his face. He had ghostly white hair that framed his sharp face perfectly. His tail swished behind him what went from his skin's grey to black the closer it got to the tip. He blinks and white pupils appear in his black eyes. He wore nothing but dark red pants that was held up by a rope or ribbon that was secured along his waste.
🔥 He looks at everyone as your friends all had mixed reactions, some were screaming their heads off while others were laughing and cheering over how their little trick worked.
🔥 Audrey in particular, was ecstatic, taking pictures of the demon as it stared at her.
🔥 "Oh my god, I didn't know he would be so hot!-" She was about to place he hand on his chest when he grabbed her wrist. She yelped and tried to let go but his grip was as strong as iron.
🔥 She starts screaming and trying to push him away while everyone else laughed at the scene. You could only step back and watch as Audrey continued yelling at the boy to let go of her, now scared out of her mind.
🔥 The dreaded ringing of laughter stopped all of a sudden after a loud, wet crack. Blood gushes out of Audrey's arm as he steps back from the grey man, you shake as you still see her now ripped off arm still in his grip.
🔥 Your friend's laughter is replaced with screams as the demon kills off your friends one by one, you run off and take cover behind an old truck in the warehouse while you hear the gruesome sounds of flesh ripping and your friends' screams diminishing with every life taken by the monster you summoned out of pure stupidity and recklessness.
🔥 The sounds stopped for a moment before you hear the sound of footsteps slowly coming towards you. You cry silently, praying to whatever was watching over you to help you, for a saving grace, a miracle, anything to get you out of there.
🔥 Your eyes blink open as you see the man kneeling down at you with wide eyes, the blood of your friends getting absorbed into his skin, giving his eyes a redder tint. You close your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks as you wait for your painful death.
🔥 But it never came.
🔥 A soft touch to your wet face makes you flinch as the demon coos at you and wipes away your tears, rubbing your cheek.
🔥 "Why are you so sad Master? Your sacrifice was much appreciated."
🔥 He spoke with a soft, sultry voice. You stutter out a "What?" as he cocks his head.
🔥 "Yes, those lowly creatures were very annoying, but their blood was the greatest gift I've ever received, such generosity deserves just service, right?" he smiles.
🔥 You were confused; Master? why would he be calling you that? Still frazzled by the events that happened to you, you stood up and started walking away, the moments you've witnessed still not sinking into your soul yet.
🔥 The demon stays where he was a bit longer before catching up to you, still smiling like he didn't just kill 5 people right in front of you.
🔥 "Are we going to your abode, Master? I'd be happy to carry you, you seem a bit exhausted." He said, going in front of you and offering his arms.
🔥 You laugh nervously at him, "N-no! No heheh.. uhm.. I'm fine walking to the car.." You walk by him, as his elvish ears perk up. "Car? I've never been in a car before!"
🔥 Now here you are, driving back to your house in blood-soaked clothes in your now dead friend's car with a demon who was busy sticking his tongue out of the cat window like a giant dog.
🔥 The silence was unbearable as the uneasiness of having such a dangerous creature next to you swallowed you whole, you didn't bother turning on music as he tried turning the dials and broke it.
🔥 "So..uh...why didn't you kill me? I know I'm your 'master' now and all but uh...Why not the others?"
🔥 "You really didn't know how it worked? Well, those idiots took a dumb shortcut and offered the blood of an animal. You, Master, generously gave your own blood for me, speaking of which.." He takes your hand that had the cut and licked it. You pull back your hand in disgust and try to carefully rub off the saliva but find that your finger no longer hurt. You look at it and see the cut fully healed, not a scar left.
🔥 You look at the demon who gave you a toothy smile and sighed.
🔥 "So..what do I call you?"
🔥 "My name is Dorik! May I know your's, Master?"
🔥 "Uh..I'm (Y/N).."
🔥 "What a fun name! (Y/N)..I like it!" He turns his head back to the window and giggles at the wind in his face. You couldn't help but giggle at his cute behavior. Looks like you have a new companion for a while...
🔥 Oh my god your friends are dead...
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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 7 months
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My dear lgbt+ kids,
Can you have a healthy relationship with a narcissist?
Well, if you trust many social media posts, then the answer would be a resounding "No". Narcissistic is - apparently - a synonym for abusive, and of course you can't have a healthy relationship with an abusive partner!
But, well, social media is not always right. A lot of topics get oversimplified, terms get misused and black-or-white thinking is rampant - and "narcissistic means abusive" falls into all three of those pits.
Let's look at it a bit closer: "Abusive" describes a set of behaviors - while narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) describes, well, a personality disorder. It's a mental health condition.
I am not a trained mental health professional, so I'll use a medical source here. According to mayoclinic.org (link to article), symptoms and their intensity may vary from one affected person to the next (just like the exact symptoms and severity of depression or anxiety may vary!). A person with NPD may
have an unreasonably high sense of their own importance
have an excessive need for attention and admiration
have low/no empathy (struggle to understand or care about the feelings of others)
have low self-worth
be easily upset by criticism
struggle with social interactions
have difficulty managing their emotions
experience major problems dealing with stress 
And, again just like with other mental health conditions, NPD can negatively affect the person in a lot of areas of life. For example, struggling to manage their emotions and stress levels may make it hard for them to hold down a job and cause financial worries, or they may avoid participating in social events, which may lead to them becoming isolated and depressed etc. And yes, of course some symptoms may also lead to problems in romantic relationships.
Therapy for NPD usually centers around talk therapy, with the goal of helping the person to better understand and manage their emotions, to learn how to cope with self-worth issues, and to create/maintain healthy fulfilling relationships and communication with the people around them.
Now, you can look at all this and go "See? The social media posts are right! They are self-centered, have no empathy and are easily upset! That's abusive!" - but that'd be jumping to conclusions. None of those things are behaviors.
An autistic person may also easily get upset and they may also feel low empathy. So could a person with major depression. Yet, we do not treat "autistic" or "depressed" as a synonym for abusive. We do not assume that their symptoms will definitely lead to abusive behavior. So, why would that be different for people with NPD?
Am I saying no person with NPD has ever been abusive? Of course not. That'd be black-or-white thinking, too. What I am saying is: People with NPD are people. And people can show abusive behavior or they can not.
If someone who easily feels upset hits you, that's abuse... but hitting would be abuse, even if they didn't feel easily upset. A partner with or without NPD shouldn't be hitting you. If someone with no empathy degrades and insults you, that's abusive... but that would be abuse regardless of their ability to feel empathy. A partner with or without NPD shouldn't be degrading and insulting you.
A person could have NPD and behave abusive - but "some people are X and Y, so all people who are X must be Y" is a flawed logic.
So, let's circle back to the beginning: can you have a healthy relationship with a narcissist? Yeah. It will be a relationship with someone who has a mental health condition and that's something to be aware of because mental health conditions do affect everyday life (duh?).
You should set boundaries and take warning signs of abuse seriously - like you should do when you date anyone, regardless of health status.
With all my love,
Your Tumblr Dad
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tropes-and-tales · 1 year
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Good Girl
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Day 2:  Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 
CW:  Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.
Word Count:  2996
AN:  This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)
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You and Bob continue your little dance for months.
You know the man likes you.  Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy.  He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.
Everyone else notices it.  Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer.  Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits.  Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.
Bob never makes a move.
Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single.  The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up.  The little touches you chance:  brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.
It’s Rooster who clues you in.  The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness.  In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.
“I know what you’re doing,” he says.  “But you’re going about it all wrong.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them.  “C’mon.  It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested.  You gotta be blatant with him.  He won’t get it otherwise.”
“Why not?”  Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation.  Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—
“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”
Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.  
“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless.  “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”
“That’s a terrible excuse.  I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”
Rooster chuckles again.  “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us.  I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”  
You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck:  you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you.  Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside.  You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.
You turn back to the pilot.  You square your shoulders.  “Okay, I hear you.  I’ll be the brave one.”  A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath.  “And you’re sure he likes me?  You aren’t misreading this somehow?  I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”
He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.  
“Ah, kid, he loves you.  You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.
-----
You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life.  Still, you decide to be brave.
You make the first move.
When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster.  You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.
You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.
“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear.  “I was going to take a walk on the beach.  Do you want to join me?”
The hope in his eyes turns blatant.  “Really?”
“Yeah.  You wanna go?  C’mon.”  You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance. 
You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave.  The former tips you a knowing wink.  The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.
You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks.  He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.
The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit.  It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice.  You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it.  He seems comfortable just to be himself:  quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.  
Case in point:  you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one.  Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy.  If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.
And he breaks the silence, after a while.
“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.  
“Same,” you reply.  “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”
“You like it?”
You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles.  “I do,” you admit.  “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”
He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”
The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them.  “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”
The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent.  He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.
“Bradley.”  It comes out curt, two quick syllables.  A statement, not a question.
You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement.  Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night.  You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there.  The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.
“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.  
“I saw you tonight—”
You shake your head again, cut him off.  “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob.  “About you.”
You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath.  If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.
And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward.  Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.
“I think you’re great, Bobby.  Honestly.  I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…”  You trail off, lose your words like an idiot.  You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely.  You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—
You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses:  gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant.  His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.
Your thoughts go fuzzy.  Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.
“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through.  “I know, honey.  Me too.”
Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you.  You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.
If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not.  Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.
It doesn’t take much urging, you find.  You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come.  You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you.  You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.
As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too.  He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh.  He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.
You break the kiss, slow the moment down.  You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.
“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.  
He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin.  “Didn’t think you were interested.”
You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose.  You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.  
“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease.  You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you.  He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.
“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.”  His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip.  “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”
“I’m nicest to you,” you point out.  You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space.  At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you.  His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.
It's too much:  the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts.  Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets.  It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—
“This good?” he asks.  His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw.  He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.
You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin.  You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair.  You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed.  You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?
“Don’t worry about me.”  He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat.  “Wanna make you come, honey.”
Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter.  You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”
There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid.  No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you.  A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank:  yes, you want to be his good girl.  Yes, you want to come for him.  Whatever he wants.  Anything he wants.  Everything he wants.
You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him.  “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can.  Yes, yes.  Yes to all of it.
Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you:  you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge.  You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over.  His quietly domineering orders.
“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it.  “My good, sweet girl.  Come for me.”
Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him.  Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.
“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair.  “Good girl.  So fucking good for me.”
And all you can respond with is yes, yes.  Only for you, Bobby.
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writingwithcolor · 9 months
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Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?
Anonymous asked:
I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?
Writing for yourself first, not an audience
I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?
That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.
As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.
At what point does the public need to be involved in that?
I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.
But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.
Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.
Deciding to publish the work
If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.
Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.
The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.
There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.
This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.
~ Leigh
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pascalswift · 1 year
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BURNING DESIRE
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STEPDAD!JOEL x F!READER
SUMMARY : after all Joel did marry your mother, but she was oblivious to the motive behind it. Not silly love, it’s was you. It was always you, His sweet little stepdaughter.
WARNINGS : age gap (reader is early 20’s Joel’s late 30’s), dark!joel, perv!joel, step-cest, oral (f receiving), boob play, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, manhandling, mutual pinning, established relationship, (This is Short, sorry my loves )
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JOEL MILLER WASN’T A EVIL PERSON, NO. HE WAS JUST CALCULATED. A very smart man, seemingly very stoic but once you break past the multi layered concrete you’d find someone that you’d never want to leave. Maybe that’s what enthralled your mother to jump into marriage so quickly, she truly believed he was deeply in love with her and she was he. She believed that she just happened to meet a professor at your college whom was single and yearning for the domestic things in life, but she was so utterly wrong.
To Joel miller, well he had found an in. One that allowed him full access to you, free to stare, free to do whatever he imagined without having to worry about a college or a student noticing the way he seemed to linger on you. After all, it was no accident that day when he and your mom “crashed” into each other.
So here he was now, arms crossed over his chest, Dress shirt screaming at the push from his large arms. The older man staring sternly at you as you sat on your bed promptly ignoring him. “I told your mother we’d meet her there.” Joel persisted and you huffed rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.
Your mother wasn’t your favorite person, she was money hungry, and self absorbed. She tried to claim she loved you, even more attempting to smother you after your father desperates this life a few years ago but time after time her true colors would peer through the blinds. So sitting at a dinner with her and her husband wasn’t something you’d like, especially if your step fathers brother/business partner was gonna be there. Your mother seemed to love his company…
Joel wasn’t dull he knew his wife likes his brother. But he also knew his brother wasn’t like that.
“Why can’t I just stay here? Tommy’s gonna be there and he’s good company.” You shrugged and Joel’s jaw clenched as he dropped his arms. “But I want ya’ there sweetheart.” Your heart raced as he walked closer to you, doe eyes looking up at him as his rough hand gripped your jaw angling your face upwards. “You just want attention huh?” Joel cooed before he bent down pressing his lips against your plush ones.
“I don’t know what you mean.” You mumbled as Joel pulled away, his brows raising as he crouched in front of you. He tossed the sheet off your legs angling your legs to the side of the bed, Your knees level with his neck. He tilted his head placing his hands on your knees as you were only in a pair of white cotton shorts with a tiny pink flower in the front center right under your belly button, and a plain pink tank top. He eyed the way your nipples imprinted the fabric of your thin tank top.
“Y’know what I mean baby.” Joel stated, his voice a bit lower. “If ya didn’t you wouldn’t be reactin’ like you are.” His hand slid up grazing your clothes nipple and you sucked in a breath. “If I give you somethin’ you promise you’ll get dressed after?” He was smirking, because he knew how to make you comply. You demeanor had changed from refusing to go to nodding with vigor whilst looking at your step-father.
His large rough hands slid up your thighs leaving goosebumps in its wake as his hands reached your shorts. He stood up hands grasping your waist as you tossed you further up the bed, a light giggle escaping your lips that made him smile as he climbed between your legs. Your heart rate was through the rough as he pulled your shorts and panties down in one go tossing them somewhere around the room.
He watched as your chest heaved and he yanked your tank top down letting your breast spring free and he groaned as he ground his hips into the bed to relieve some pressure. He leaned up taking a nipple into his mouth and your head lulled back with a whimper that turned into a light moan when his teeth grazed it. He pulled away pinching your other nipple before he lowered himself between your legs. Groaning at the mess of slick in your folds.
“Baby’s already wet f’me.” You nodded as he kissed your inner thighs, so close to wear you want him. “Word’s.” Joel muttered biting your inner thigh before soothing it with his tongue. “Just f’you daddy.” It escaped your lips and Joel nearly moaned at the way you said it, his hips moved on the mattress getting some relief as he finally flattened his tongue and licked a thick harsh stripe up to your clit.
You hands pulled at his hair as you moaned. Joel had quickly lost himself between your legs, it was supposed to be a little treat but it quickly just became a frenzy. His tongue dipping into your tight hole as You writhed. His arms were locked under your thigh pushing your stomach down not giving you much room to move. “s’good- mmgh”
Joel sucked your bundle of nerves harshly before, letting his tongue trace it before his hang slipped lower and his thumb pressed on your clit pulling up lightly, watching as you held onto your breast absentmindedly pinching and pulling at your nipples, before he returning to sucking and you felt tears brim your eyes as your abdomen felt hot. “D-daddy.” You whined as his other hang slid up between your boobs and both of your hands grabbed onto his larger one.
“I know baby, your bein’ so good f’daddy.” He mumbled as he used the pad of his tongue to lick down towards your weeping hole. His free hand that you were holding coming down as he poked at it with his index finger. Your hips jerked and you whimpered. “Gotta get you ready for later princess, ya’ want that hm?” You nodded eagerly but moaned loudly when you felt his thick finger enter inside you. Joel himself moaning at how warm and tight your walls were, barley just accepting his one finger he could only image what his cock would feel like inside of you.
He was so tempted to just fuck you after this but he didn’t wanna raise any flags. His finger pumped in and out of you and he already felt the way you clenched down on his one finger, your cries only spurring him on. Without warning he pushed his middle finger inside of your hole that was pouring arousal. The stretch was a sweet burn but quickly became just sweet as Joel’s mouth went back on your clit and his fingers pumped deeply inside of you.
He curled his fingers upward and you let out a particularly loud moan as the coil tightened in your stomach and heat slowly started to build up. “P-please- mgh. Daddy I’m g-“ Joel only sped up watching as your face contorted into pleasure. Mouth open with harsh breaths and brows furrowed. He curled his fingers up and sucked on your bundle of nerves watching as your orgasm hit you.
As he fucked you through your orgasm you were sure you blacked out for a minute. The pleasure washed over your body making your head push further into your pillow as you babbled incoherently. When you finally came down from jumping multiple feet in the air you felt Joel’s mouth still on your clit, his fingers still inside of you and your thighs attempted to close. Only to be cut short by his strength. “Daddy s’to much- m-“ you were unable to form a coherent sentence as Joel kept going, seemingly In a trance.
Tears started to fall down your cheeks as you yanked on his hair attempting to push him back but not outwardly telling him to stop, the pleasure being to enjoyable. “Gimmie one more baby.” His voice was raspy as he lifted his head only for a second before returning back to his place between your thighs pulling his fingers from your slick full hole. His fingers covered in your arousal as he smeared it over your clit, hearing your whimper of emptiness.
His hand slid up your neck and his finger tapped your bottom lip letting you taste yourself while he used his tongue to make you cum again.
Before you reached dinner you had already came three times, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle later.
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thanks for reading <333
if you wanna be tagged just lmk and message me with requests I’m happy to write mostly everything <33
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kiame-sama · 10 days
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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU- pt 3
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Warnings; yandere themes/behavior/actions, mix of platonic and romantic yanderes, monster AU, reader is the only human, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, Monster AU Grim has arrived and my heart already hurts for him, poor decision making, Selkie, Crow Fae, Minotaur, Drider, slight gore, an actual monster of this AU make a guest appearance,
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"(Y/n) (L/n)... The last Human in Twisted Wonderland."
Those words echoed in your mind as you followed the Crow. Supposedly there was a dorm on the campus that didn't have anyone in it and he intended that to be your home. You didn't trust any of these creatures because they all seemed to think you were some kind of exotic pet and not actually an equal. There was no way you would stay with any of these creatures and you found yourself looking for a chance to escape.
What you hadn't expected was how hard the Dragon man took your refusal to stay in his nest permanently. When he was guarding you, he had been full of energy and crackling with some kind of unknown power. When you said you wanted to be left alone and wanted to go home, the man practically looked like a kicked puppy who couldn't understand why his new play-mate didn't want to stay with him. In some ways, you felt guilty for saying no to the Dragon, but you also were afraid of how you would be treated by the man who had already claimed you as his own.
The Crow actually decided your request to go home was a reasonable one and brought you before the mirror that had been so prominent in the center of the coffin room. Despite your pleading and the Crow's requests, the mirror said there was nowhere in their world you could have come from so there was nowhere in their world you could return to. You tried arguing that your home was real and you needed to go back to it, but the mirror refused to speak to you again and simply stopped responding to you.
This lead to where you were now, feeling like a prisoner marching down death-row flanked by the two men who came with the Crow to retrieve you from the Dragon. Everyone you passed stopped and stared as you went by, their curiosity clear as they all tried to get a good look at you. Some even tried to reach out to you, but the two men flanking you shut it down quickly and chased the curious onlookers off. Despite how the Crow said he was taking you somewhere safe, you didn't trust him in the slightest.
When your opportunity to flee presented itself, you took it with both hands.
There was a forest that seemed to line the far side of the campus with many dark trees and shadowed trunks. Surely you could hide in there and find your own way home despite the fearful feeling in your gut that insisted you were stuck in the unusual world of fantasy you now found yourself in. As you drew nearer to what looked like an abandoned and ramshackled manor, you slowed your pace just enough to make a bit of distance from you and your guards before you darted into the forest.
Even as the branches whipped and slashed at you, you kept running blindly into the woods. Surely you could get some distance from the monsters that tried to keep you like a pet, and maybe then you could work on finding a way home. To your real home, wherever that was in comparison to where you were now.
~•§•~
"Damn it, Crowley!"
The black and white Selkie snapped, immediately trying to follow the frightened little Human into the forest. He knew what kind of creatures stalked those woods and a soft little Human like you was not going to survive long. The moment the branches began pulling at his pelt, he had to retreat back from the woods. His own self preservation was far too strong to allow his pelt to be damaged or removed from his shoulders, even to save a protected species like the little Human.
"What did I do? I have been nothing but kind and that Human keeps running away!"
"They're running because they are terrified, confused, and not even from our world! You should have just let us use the dark mirror to get to the dorm, not making us walk! Not to mention how unsafe and rundown the dorm you want them to stay in is..."
The Selkie gave another annoyed noise as he watched his minotaur companion barely even make it past the first tree before his horns caught on the foliage around him. They couldn't enter the forest after you because they would get just as lost as you currently were. The forest was not a warm and safe place to be for anyone given the rampant number of Direbeasts and other creatures in the untamed areas of the isle.
"We can't follow them like this- damn it! Rook, front and center, pup!"
There was a slight skittering sound before the lovely blond Drider easily cleared the wrought iron fencing nearby and came to a halt before the Selkie professor. Naturally, the Drider was curious about the Human and followed the entourage with a keen eye and even keener instincts. He knew the Human would run before the professors did, and despite how he wanted to give chase he remembered the horrified look the Human had given him when they saw him for the first time. Rook wanted to befriend and study the unusual prey that was his new little Human muse, not terrify them into fleeing from him.
"Yes, Roi du Selkie?"
"I know you were watching where the Human (Y/n) ran and you are better at navigating the forest than we are. Find them and bring them back unharmed."
"You wound me, Roi du Selkie! I would never harm the little Trickster Human! Now, I certainly wouldn't mind hunting them down for a bit of sport, but I wouldn't harm a hair upon their fragile little head."
"Yes, yes, I know your proclivity to The Hunt, but this is a fragile creature that we can't risk losing, especially when they are the last of their kind. Make sure you get to them before the beats of the forest do."
"As you command, Roi du Selkie."
~•§•~
No matter how far you ran, the forest only seemed to get darker. It had already been late in the evening when you fled, but the forest was a near abyssal dark. Not even the light of the moon could reach beneath the canopy of leaves. Every little sound made you jump and you could only imagine the creatures that lurked in these shadowed woods.
Perhaps fleeing into the woods away from a warm bed and meal was not the best idea you've had. Granted, the last time you fled resulted rather positively given the fact you fell asleep under a stone statue and woke up safe in a comfortable bed. The same bed you chose to give up because you didn't want to be someone's pet. Well, hindsight was always 20/20, after all.
You were so preoccupied with the forest around you that the second a gnarled root caught you foot, you went tumbling to the ground with an undignified yelp. The root you had fallen over was pitch black and seemed to actually be the opening of what looked like a den for whatever creatures called this land home. When you breathed a sigh of relief at not seeing any feral creature within the den, a sharp voice snapped you back to attention.
"Hey! Watch it!"
Crawling on their belly out of the den, you caught sight of shaggy gray fur and burning blue eyes. You got a good look at the little creature when it stood up, dusting the dirt off of itself and pouting in your direction. The little beast was fairly stout and almost fooled you into thinking it was some kind of cat before you noticed the extra limbs adorning the rounder body.
"What... Are you?"
"I'm the greatest mage to ever live, Grim! That's what I am! What are you? You don't look like the usual fancy-pants students that wander around the woods."
"I'm not... I'm just lost-"
You cut yourself off with a gasp as the little creature hopped up on your knees, staring at you closely with those bright blue eyes. They gave you a quick once-over and even a few sniffs for good measure before they nodded.
"Yup. I see. I can say with absolute certainty that I have no idea what you are!"
The odd words of the critter drew a short laugh from you. Your laugh was a mix of confusion and incredulousness, but in it held the hint of genuine humor. It seemed those in the supposed school knew exactly what you were, but this little creature didn't have the faintest idea. Something about this Grim helped put you at ease as they seemed much more rounded- quite literally given their chubby belly- and less aggressive than the others had been.
Where the others had made you feel like an exotic pet, this little creature made you feel like someone who could stand up for themselves and talk for themselves. As you took a good look at the creature, you noticed what seemed to be small blue flames along their ears and various scars riddling the soft fur. Though the creature was small, they had clearly been through a rough life as even the little wings on their back had been shredded to complete uselessness.
"I'm a Human."
"Yeah, I have no idea what that is, but it smells like you don't have even a bit of magic on ya! Don't worry, Hooman thing. I- the Great and Powerful Grim- will protect you as you make your way through the forest! There's all sorts of bad things in the woods that would hurt someone soft like you. In return, you can be my henchman! Every good mage needs a henchman. Nyehehe!"
Before you could respond to the odd creature Grim, the rustling of the bushes near you filled you with dread. You had no way to defend yourself or fight back against whatever threat came for you, let alone protect Grim. That dread only compounded when you saw the creature that emerged from the foliage.
Standing on all fours, it almost looked like some kind of bear that was missing half of it's face. Where fur and flesh should have been, a large gaping wound covered in flies and rotting from the bone of the skull was on clear display. The eyes of the beast were no more than glowing light blue pits that glowered hatefully in your direction. Even the black fur of the beast seemed to be dripping with some kind of rot as the foul stench of the creature assaulted your nostrils.
Nothing about this beast was natural and the twisted fangs that glinted in the maw of the beast only made icy fear grip you. Each fang had been broken by the neighboring tooth, all overgrown and twisted in the maw of the creature. Some teeth grew up and back into the gums, some teeth grew out jaggedly though the mouth of the creature, and some were empty sockets where a tooth once was.
The beast lowed and huffed, sounding like it was struggling for air as it breathed out a toe-curling reek in heavy pants. One paw fell after the other as you felt rooted to the ground, trapped in terror upon gazing such a disheveled and vile creature walking around. Beyond just the face of the creature, you could see exposed bone and further signs of decay clinging to the sides of the beast. Open wounds were covered in pustules filled with some kind of inky black blight on ragged and bloodless flesh.
"Th-that's way bigger than I thought it'd be..."
Grim's voice squeaked out and his torn ears dropped in obvious fear. The bravado he had moments prior was gone the exact same way your own had faded away. This was not some natural creature and you realized just how woefully prepared you were to face the creatures of the night.
The beast turned the one remaining eye it had towards the two of you and Grim tried to hide behind your legs, huddled down on your stomach. You were in more than just a dangerous position seeing as you were sitting on the dark earth beneath you after tripping over Grim's hiding-spot. Both you and your new companion were caught completely unawares by this wretched beast.
As it looked like the thing was about to lunge, a sudden rush of fire slammed into the beast, piercing into the side was an arrow that burned brightly with flames. The sudden attack was enough to disorient the beast as it howled a screeching wail of pain and lumbered back into the woods, deciding to find easier prey elsewhere. You wanted to cry in joy at seeing the creature retreat, finding yourself hugging the odd cat-thing Grim who joyously returned the affection as you both got to live another day.
"I see you are unharmed, my little Trickster, c'est magnifique!"
You looked over at the sound of the voice, only to realize that the voice came from above you instead. Hanging suspended on a thin strand of silk was the lovely giant Spider man. Two of his legs held the silk and the others hung down as if reaching down to you.
"Myeh! A giant spider! Run for your life, Hooman!"
Grim screamed as he hopped off of your stomach, trying to flee from the descending spider that had save you both from the monster bear. He didn't get far before a sudden strand of silk wrapped around him, pulling him back with ease.
"Non, there has been enough fleeing for one night. As beautiful as the forest is when it is dark like this, many dangers far worse than the Undying Ursus Minor live in these woods. It is time to return mon Trickster to the safety of their new home."
"Myeh? A safe home..? Hey, spider guy, that's my henchman! Where they go, I go too! They wouldn't leave me out here," Grim turned to look at you with surprisingly soulful eyes, as if willing you to agree, "right?"
You felt more than a little put on the spot, but you didn't see any harm in bringing this strange creature with you. They were more than a little proud but seemed so out of place among the dark forest you two found ourselves at the mercy of. That and the fact that you couldn't get the image of the many scars on their soft little body out of your mind. The world was unkind to Grim and maybe you could do something to change that for the better.
"Right."
The blond spider nodded with a patient smile, his body safely touching down on the ground next to you.
"Trés bien, I will bring your new friend with us. First, I worry I haven't been very polite with you, Trickster. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rook Hunt, hunting enthusiast and passionate admirer of all things beautiful. Honored to be in the presence of one so rare~"
After his short introduction, Rook was quick to free Grim from the webbing and picked the little creature up, setting the fluffy beast onto his spider half's back. As the spider man approached you next, you still felt wary of him but knew that at least he wasn't looking to harm you like the beasts of the forest.
Before you could accept the help of the smiling spider, he suddenly picked you up, pausing with a look of surprise. His hands were beneath your arms and held you from the ground with what seemed to be little effort, but he was a spider and so likely had more strength than a Human would.
"Oh? It seems my little Trickster is a Mademoiselle Trickster. Odd I didn't notice before. I am usually quite good at discerning the sex of my prey, as some species are only free to hunt if they are one sex and not the other, but this is still a welcome surprise. Roi du Règles will be most pleased to know this, him being a Unicorn and all."
"Wh-what the hell are you talking about? Were you hunting me?"
"Calm yourself, Trickster. I admit, you interest me in many ways, but non, I tracked you down at the behest of Roi du Selkie. The forests are no place for a soft Human such as yourself. I certainly would not mind a game of chase with you, but this is neither the place nor time."
He set you next to Grim on his back, grinning over his shoulder at you.
"Hold on, Mademoiselle Trickster, I do not intend to have you fall on our way back to campus."
You were quick to grab Grim, holding the soft critter with one arm and the other wrapping around Rook's warm torso. Once he was sure you were holding onto him securely, his many long legs began to move with a surprising speed, carrying you towards what you assumed to be the school you fled. Grim was content to snuggle into your body for warmth, seeming to actually relax in your hold now that he didn't have to constantly be looking over his shoulder for danger.
You weren't thrilled to be going back, but you also now knew what kind of dangers lurked around the campus and in the woods. Perhaps you would be better off in the protection- for whatever it was worth- of the monster men and their school. Even if it was temporary, it beat being the lunch to something bigger and meaner in the forest. At least you knew you weren't going to try running again.
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gold-dustwomxn · 10 months
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mystified
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summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor
fair warning, future chapters will include discussions of abuse and other heavy topics. each part will contain its own warnings please read them! eventual smut
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
cw: small interaction with a scary man, smoking weed
fluff fluff and more fluff, a little angst. protective ellie makes an appearance
inhale, exhale. grunts and bodies slamming against gym mats could be heard outside the big double doors of ‘miller’s defense studio.’ news of women being attacked at night had been circulating quite loudly in your sleepy town. dad says you should attend the free session, be able to defend yourself if anything happens. only problem was half the town was in here and you fucking hated being around large groups of people. you had your pepper spray keychain on you at all times, did you really need to learn how to fight? yeah, probably.
one of the many annoying things about being in such a small town is knowing everyone. at least your best friend dina and her boyfriend jesse were here to soften the blow of all of this chaos.
sat on the sidelines, you observe everyone attempting to show off sloppy, embarrassing ‘defense’ moves. jesse spots you and obnoxiously yells your name across the gym. rolling your eyes, you make your way over to him and dina.
“hey, ___ you’re late and you’re not gonna like what I have to tell you,” he smiles nervously. darting your eyes from him to dina, you eye them warily, regretting coming here even more now. “well? spit it out jesse.”
“jesus ok. well since you’re so late, there’s no one else for you to pair up with-“ you cut him off, “oh? that��s fine I’ll just watch then.” him and dina look at each other before she looks at you cautiously. “well, the only other person who doesn’t have a partner is the instructor for today.” you squint your eyes towards the front of the room trying to make out who it is, and oh fuck no, it’s ellie. the girl you’ve had a crush on for quite some time.
“ha, no fucking way. you guys can just teach me later. I am not making a fool of myself in front of her and the whole fucking town. you know I hate being the center of attention and she’s gonna demonstrate on me to teach everyone!” you turn your body attempting to walk away.
dina grabs your forearms softly trying to chill you out with her witchy, calming demeanor. because seriously how is she able to do that with just her touch? “you’re gonna be fine, ___. just breathe. no one else knows what they’re doing either, that’s why we’re here. you’re not gonna look like a fool,” she nods at you slowly, “plus, jesse already told her you’d be her partner.” she gives you an apologetic smile.
“ugh. why can’t you be her partner jesse? she’s your best friend.” dina grabs jesse’s arm and nuzzles into his side with a gross, love drunk smile. “because, I wanna be with my man. sorry, babe but you can do this. you can shamelessly use this as an excuse to be close to her anyway” she wiggles her eyebrows.
“oh my god,” you scoff and roll your eyes, “you guys seriously suck.”
an ear piercing whistle startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin, and the room goes quiet. “good morning everyone, I’m ellie. welcome to miller’s defense studio. today, I’m going to be teaching you guys basic self defense techniques. learning self defense is more than how to prevent an attacker from overpowering you, but also about keeping a clear and calm head in the face of danger and how to gain the upper hand..”
her introduction speech fades from your ears as you observe her confident demeanor. dressed only in a simple white wife-beater tank and sweatpants, she still stands tall with a commanding presence. her hair sits in a low bun at the back of her neck, tattoo on full display while her toned arms move animatedly as she speaks.
you blink a few times snapping out of it as dina taps your shoulder and looks at you. “what?” she nods her head at ellie who is looking at you, waiting for you to join her at the front. your eyes widen briefly, “oh fuck.” you mutter under your breath.
you quickly walk up to her in embarrassment and she smirks at you as if she knows something that you don’t. she puts her hand on your hip and leans to turn on the bluetooth speaker behind you. “hey ___” she whispers in your ear. goosebumps travel down your body. fuck, this is gonna be a long day.
after some basic blocking and hitting techniques, ellie decides to teach everyone how to throw an attacker over your shoulder. many cry of “what if they’re taller or heavier?” blah blah, doesn’t matter. next thing you know, ellie turns and steps away from you, grabs your arm, squatting and lifts your hips against her ass before pulling your arm forward, rolling you off her hips onto the floor, wind knocked out of you, hand now around your throat. you lay there stunned, out of breath as ellie’s face hovers close to yours. you take a small glance at her lips before looking up into her eyes and she smirks, also out of breath. fuck, you were caught.
with everyone now practicing the technique, she grabs your hand and pulls you up. “you okay? didn’t go too rough on you?” she places her hands on her hips and looks you up and down so quickly that you could’ve easily missed it if you weren’t paying close attention.
you laugh “no, no, I’m fine. that was pretty crazy. when did you learn how to do all of this shit? I mean, I knew joel had this place obviously but I didn’t know you were involved in it.”
“hm.. well, when joel adopted me I had some.. anger issues, getting into fights all the time. he eventually gave up on trying to ‘change my ways’ and decided to train me how to fight properly so I wouldn’t hurt myself.. tricked me into taking out my aggression elsewhere, so I guess he ended up changing me anyway..” she chuckles “but, yeah I don’t teach or join in on the classes, I do it on my own time. joel’s been booked up so he convinced me to do this for him.” she scratches the back of her neck sheepishly and blushes. you wonder if it’s because she told you something personal or it’s because it’s her first time teaching.
“well.. I wouldn’t have guessed this was your first time. you really know how to command a room. you’re a natural,” you smile at her shyly. “dunno know if I really feel prepared to come up against an attacker though, maybe you could teach me some more.” you mentally pat yourself on the back for your brave attempt at flirting.
she laughs, “oh yeah?” moving closer to you. you look at her briefly before looking away. “mhm!” is what you come up with. jesus christ. she laughs again and nods. “alright, I guess I can make an exception for you and give you some free lessons. I’m gonna go do the closing speech or whatever the fuck joel wanted me to do..” she looks somewhere behind you and her eyes widen. you follow her line of sight and see dina and jesse look away abruptly. okay, suspicious.
as everyone is packing up their belongings, you make your way over to jesse and dina. dina smirks at you, “so?”
“so what..?” you furrow your brows. “how’d it go up there?” before you can respond, ellie comes over and greets you guys. “ellie! ___ and jesse are coming over tonight, you wanna come smoke and chill?” she looks at you as she answers “yeah, sure” she shrugs and then looks over at dina and jesse, “just text me and let me know.”
as you walk to dina’s house, the cold bitter air of winter sends a chill down your spine. all of a sudden you hear a car pulling up next to you and a window rolling down. the sound of a man’s voice has your adrenaline pumping. walking away quickly, you put your phone to your ear and pretend that you’re talking to someone “hey! you think you can help me with some directions? my phone is dead and I’m lost.” your heart is racing and you click off the safety on your pepper spray. another car comes to a screeching halt behind you. a slam of a car door and quick footsteps has you looking back in fear.
ellie comes into your line of sight and puts you behind her, looking at the man with a challenging gaze “is there a fucking problem here?” you hear a flicking sound and look down, eyes widening when you see a switchblade in her hand. he skids off and she manages to take a picture of his plates, putting the switchblade in her back pocket before turning to you. she gently grabs your shoulders and looks at you in concern. “you okay? what happened?” she looks down at your hands and you hadn’t realized until now that you’re shaking. “c’mon.” she grabs your hand and leads you to her car, opening the passenger door for you.
“why are you walking around by yourself? jesus, ___ you could’ve been..” she looks away from you, cutting herself off and shakes her head, clenching her jaw. “I would’ve picked you up.” she starts the car, and pulls away from the curb.
“I know! fuck. dina lives so close I thought- yeah it wasn’t smart knowing what’s been happening.” she turns her head to look at you briefly, her gaze softening. “just text me or something next time okay? I don’t want you walking around by yourself, I’ll pick you up.” you nod and take a deep breath. “thanks for the save,” you laugh, trying to soften the mood. she, however does not laugh which makes you even more nervous. great, you think, I pissed her off. she glances at you, noticing your nervous fidgeting. she briefly squeezes your hand “it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re safe” she gives you a small smile. you feel butterflies in your stomach. the rollercoaster of emotions from fear to anxiety and now to the feelings ellie is giving you are a lot.
“I’m gonna stop back home to show joel the pics of the plates and tell him what happened so he can take it to the authorities or whatever. I don’t really wanna be the one talking to the cops. you want me to drop you off at dina’s first?” she glances at you. “no, it’s cool I’ll come with you.”
ellie’s house can be described as old and rustic. outdated wood paneling lining the walls, decor and photos that give it a country feel, the cozy smell and crackling sound of the lit fireplace flooding your senses.
joel greets you warmly. small town means he’s seen you grow up, being friendly with your parents. his demeanor is rough around the edges with a don’t fuck with me attitude, but also very polite and caring. you now realize how similar ellie is to him.
as ellie explains the fucked up situation which occurred minutes ago, your phone vibrates in your pocket.
dina🤍: dont kill me pls but I have to cancel tonight. my mom found out im failing stats and she’s on the fuckin warpath. ill make it up to u promise xx
me: fuccck i’m at ellies rn she saved me from some shit i’ll tell u ab it later but now i’m nervous help🥲 sorry ab ur mom i’ll pray for ur soul
you lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. the internal panic of now having to be alone with ellie settles deep in your gut.
ellie walks over to you “alright, joel said he’s gonna deal with it. you all set to go?”
“did dina text you? check your phone.”
you watch ellie’s eyes glide across her screen and it gives you a moment to ogle over how fucking attractive she is. her long lashes, sharp jawline and freckles more pronounced due to the soft glow from her phone emitting against the low lighting of the room. she looks up at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “uhh fuck, well, do you want me to take you home?.. or we can hang out here if you want.” she looks away from you.
“yeah, I’m down to hang” you smile at her. she gives a small smile back and blushes. alright, maybe she feels the same way I do. “okay cool, you wanna smoke and watch a movie?”
smoke hazes around ellie’s dim lit room and the movie in the background is long forgotten. you’re laughing so fucking hard with tears in your eyes, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re so high or if ellie is really that funny. “you really decked your foster sibling in the face because he borrowed your savage starlight comic ellie?” she scoffs and throws a pillow at you. “he did not borrow it.. he stole that shit and thought he could get away with it. can’t let people fuck around with you like that in the system. makes you an easy target” she takes another drag of the joint.
“uh-huh,” you grab the joint and take a hit “well, clearly these kids learned not to fuck with the big, bad aggressive ellie huh?” she laughs and rolls her eyes “oh my god, shut up, ___.”
ellie thinks about how she likes that you’re not taking pity on her for her fucked up childhood, and how it’s so easy to talk to you. it feels natural opening up to you, not being able to do that with other people, not even jesse. it makes her like you even more.
you groan as you try to peel your heavy, post high eyes open feeling warmth around you, inhaling a scent filled with clean laundry and a hint of woodsy cologne. you open your eyes and see a sleeping ellie, mouth slightly parted, breathing slowly. your eyes widen, realizing your head is on her chest and her arm is wrapped around you. you glance over at her clock that reads 3:54am. fuck, you don’t even remember falling asleep. you move slightly trying not to wake ellie to text your mom saying that you fell asleep at dina’s. ellie stirs and groans, pulling you closer to her. fuck it. you don’t know if this will ever happen again. you close your eyes and drift back to sleep.
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luciferlightbringer · 7 months
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Love In a Hopeless Place
Chapter 2
Here we are with chapter 2! Lucifer and reader meet, enjoy! xoxo, Dany :)
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Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Updated through Chapter 12 Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader
Word Count:5.2k (I'm so sorry, lol) CW: Trauma, panic, flashbacks, Smut(ish/mostly lead up), angst, comfort, sub/dom dynamics, prostitution, anxiety, depression
Lucifer was in his study working on another one of his many rubber duck creations when his phone started to buzz on the desk with a text message. He jumped a little with a small 'Ah!' at the vibration, and the duck flew out of his hands and into one of the many piles of ducks that filled the room.
"Shit, welp... not finding that one anytime soon", he said running his fingers through his hair while looking out at the sea of ducks, before turning his attention to his phone.
The preview of the text from his driver on the front screen read, "On our way back with our guest." Lucifer stared at the text, and his stomach immediately tightened with... excitement? Anxiety? Was he going to throw up- no he was fine... Right? Yes. No? Fuck. Why did this feel so scary?
Lucifer did not know what he we feeling, he just knew he only had a few minutes before his guest for the evening would arrive... and he had no idea what he was doing. Lucifer started pacing and pulling a little at his own hair, starting to stress and talk to himself.
"Should I have been preparing something? Maybe I should clean! No... wait I have people for that... M-maybe I should pick up some of the ducks? Why would I need to pick up the ducks? Maybe she would want to see the ducks? Lucifer, why would a prostitute want to see your stupid rubber ducks?!" Lucifer said as he paced back and forth on want little open floor space their was in the room, before he stopped, took a breath, and smoothed back his hair and tried to breathe.
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm cool. I'm fine." he said as he rolled his shoulders and straightened his bowtie as he walks out of his study and back down the hall to his room. "I'm the King of Hell, and I'm the customer. Who cares? I'm sure girls all over Hell would be dying for the chance to take care of and service me. She is the lucky one here that I even get to grace her presence!" He stopped in front of the mirror in his room, popping on his hat and grabbing his cane before posing in the mirror and flashing a toothy grin at himself.
Lucifer looks over his own reflection in the mirror, and the longer he stared, the more his smile faded and his shoulders slumped. He wrapped his arms around himself in a half self-hug, "So then... why do I feel like... such a loser?"
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The car soon pulls up to a big beautiful manor and parks, the driver gets out and comes to open your door, offering you a hand to help you out.
"Thank you," you say with a sweet and flirty smile as you grab the man's hand and step out of the car. You try hard to hold your confident expression and stifle your surprise as you get out and see your new surroundings, looking around admiring the beauty. Your normal cantor you use with most clients suddenly feels like it might be inappropriate here, so you hold your tongue.
Internally, though, your thought process runs wild, 'Whoa, wait, what the fuck? I've worked for some high rollers before, but this... this feels like its on an entirely different level.... Who the fuck is this guy?'
The driver breaks your slight panic as he gestures for you to follow him. You are escorted up the front steps and into the front entry way past the giant ornate front doors. In the front room off to one side were a few red chairs and a couch with gold trim, all centered around a white marble coffee table. The driver gestures towards the seating, "Please, have a seat while I inform your host that you have arrived."
You curtsy in respond because you were starting to feel like that was the right response for this type of place, and watch as the man turned and started to walk down the hallway. You go to sit on one end of the red couch, damn it was a nice couch, and you start to look at the room around you. You're inner voice continuing with the general track of 'What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? How is this place even bigger and nicer on the inside?!' playing in your head.
Who could this be? This guy is crazy well off, seems to like red, white, and gold, it was everywhere in the decorations. Also he... had good taste in decorations. It looked way nicer here than anywhere else you had ever seen in hell. Not just because of the amount of money in the place, but also because of how the design felt. It almost felt like a slightly edgier version of what you would expect buildings to look like in heaven. Lots of little details and motifs in the crowning on the walls and art around the manor. Lots of stuff like apples, snakes, little things that looked like angel wings-
Your thought process freezes as the puzzles start to fall together into an answer.
Wait.
Apples?
Snakes?!
ANGEL WINGS?!
You start to shake a little and fidget with your dress a little. You may have not been in hell long, but there were some things you pick up on quickly, even in new places. 'There is noooo way. That's impossible. Right? Where were other people who are known for that symbology... right... Who else in hell...? Maybe it's someone you just don't know? Uhhhh.... Oh! Wasn't he married? Well... that doesn't mean anything half of the time, you've fucked married guys. More importantly, if this is who I think it is... what would the LITERAL KING OF HELL, need a call girl for? No, there is no way it could be him, that would be stupid...'
Then, you hear a cane start to tap down the hallway, and time feels like it slows down. You turn to look in the direction of the sound, and down the long manor hallway, you can make out the unmistakable features of Lucifer, the fallen angel, the King of Hell himself, followed by his driver. You feel your skin grow hot and your heart rate pick up as you swallow hard, watching him approach.
He was... much softer looking than you expected. Many of the angelic features were still present, pale near-white skin, golden blonde hair, soft facial features, and they mixed in well with his more demonic features, red and gold eyes, sharp grin, and dark ashy claws that held his signature apple cane. You'd seen his face on magazines and maybe once on tv, but now upon seeing him in the flesh, you realize that pure imagines didn't seen do him any justice.
You realize you have less than a few seconds to calm yourself and get ready to make a first impression. You take a deep breath, let it out, straighten yourself in your seat and think, 'He's just another client, that's all I need to focus on. My goal is to fulfill his wishes'.
As he gets a few feet closer you stand, and curtsy with a confident smile on your face. "Your majesty, what an unexpected surprise this is. Oh, I apologize, I mean... Lance."
Lucifer responds with a hearty chuckle before putting up a hand, "No need for formalities or code names here. Just Lucifer is fine. You must be (y/n)?" he says as he starts to examine the woman in front of him up and down.
You straighten up from your curtsy and place a hand on a slightly popped hip as you look at Lucifer, "I am, and I am honored to be serving you tonight."
The driver comes up and asks for your coat. You slip it off as elegantly as you can, fully aware that your show for Lucifer had already begun, and handed it to the driver. He tells you where he will be when you and the master have concluded your visit for the evening, puts up your coat in a nearby closet, and walks into another room close to the main door, and closes the door behind him.
Lucifer watched the sultry way you slipped off your jacket, and the alluring dress that was revealed from beneath it. Simple, black, sleeveless, a v shaped neck line that showed the perfect amount of cleavage, hugged your body in all the right places, and also allowed for a long slit that showed off plenty of the soft skin of your leg. The woman before him was beautiful, but in a way he didn't expect. Not in a "porn star, big boobs, stereotypical bimbo" kind of way, but in a soft... normal kind of way. It made him feel a little calmer in a way. A couple new emotions started to join the mixture that swirled in his stomach, curiosity, amusement... lust... Nothing had even happened yet, and Lucifer could already start to feel heat start to rise around his collar.
You and Lucifer where now completely alone in the main area of the manor.
You turn back to see Lucifer eyeing you. You smile.
"You like what you see, Lucifer?" you purr as you take a few steps towards him.
Lucifer shifts a little as he stands as his cheeks tint pink, feeling almost guilty for being caught staring, before remembering he was allowed to, "Oh uh... y-yes. Yes, I do." He says, returning to his curated confident grin.
You giggle, stepping closer and offering your right hand to him, which he takes with his right hand, "I am yours for the night to use as you see fit" you say with a sly flirty smile.
'Fuck, I hope this is coming off ok', you think to yourself.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' Lucifer thinks, trying to will his cheeks into not turning a darker shade of pink, 'Oh she is VERY good, and I am very out of practice.'
Lucifer returns the sly smile, "Oh I intend to." he says looking you up and down again as he kisses your hand.
'Fuck, he is good', you think at the same time.
Lucifer continues to hold your hand as he turns in closer to your right side, looping your hand under his left arm so that you and now holding it, and he looks at you with a "Shall we then?" before he starts to escort you further into the manor.
As you start to walk through the manor with Lucifer, this is when you really notice how he was a bit shorter than you expected, especially with the heels you were wearing. Nothing wrong with that, just not something you expected. He was a cutie, and you were excited that you were going to be able to help make him feel good that night. Honored even.
Lucifer felt transfixed by every inch of sensory that came from being in contact with you, the way your hand held onto the sleeve of his jacket, the way you would shift against him as you walked, the smell of your perfume, it was borderline intoxicating. His brain was running a million miles a minute between your touch, smell, what he would say next, what would happen when you both got to his room, how he wanted to keep himself from turning into the room and immediately pouncing on you. He felt like he might lose his mind.
All you could see of Lucifer was a sly grin and a confident walk towards his room.
The two of you entered Lucifer's large bedroom and you let go of his arm so that he could go to close the door behind you. He put down his cane, and started to undo the clasps of his suit jacket. You walked up behind Lucifer as he finished the clasps, slid your hands over his shoulders, hooking your fingers under the collar.
"May I?" you cooed softly in his ear.
He gulped and nodded as you glided it off his shoulders and down his arms, trying as best you can you make sure your fingers made contact with his arms as much as possible.
Lucifer had to fight a soft moan from escaping his throat at your touch. You deviously smiled to yourself behind Lucifer at the sound of his stifled moan as you took the jacket and carefully hung the jacket off the side of his mirror. You turned back around to see Lucifer taking off his hat and setting it down on a nearby surface, trying hard tame the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, a visible bulge starting to form in his pants.
Seeing the King of Hell's eyes hunger for you gave you a devious idea to try. 'I wonder what role he likes to play?' you think to yourself.
You chuckle, and start to walk a circle around Lucifer, eyeing him back as if he was your prey, which makes Lucifer swallow hard again and make him lose a little of his edge, less of a dominant energy and leaning more submissive as he watched you circle him.
'Interesting', you think.
"Tell me. Do you prefer to lead, or follow?" you ask with a coy smile.
Lucifer thought for a moment, what did he usually do with Lili- errr... in the past? He liked not having to think. Not having to lead would be really fucking nice actually.
"Follow", Lucifer said in a soft tone. This didn't surprise you, most powerful men wanted a break from it in the bedroom, from your experience. Getting to order Lucifer around was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it got you excited just thinking about it.
You gave Lucifer a wicked smile before slinking up to him, softly grabbing his chin, getting your face very close to his before whispering, "Boots off. On the bed. Now."
Lucifer's heart beat started to pound in his ears as he took a moment as he processed the words, a shiver of pleasure jolting through his body, before quickly moving to throw off his boots and crawl onto his bed. He knew nothing in the moment beyond following your command. Lucifer got into place and then looked over at you, waiting for your next order for him.
'Fuck that was hot' he thought as he felt the heat spread across his chest.
You look towards Lucifer, turning you body to face him in his new position on the bed. You smirk and start to slowly slink towards him, making sure to roll your hips with every step to emphasize your curves, staring at him with your own hunger eyes.
Lucifer sat, transfixed by the way your hips swayed from side to side, the way your eyes felt like they were burning into his soul, his cheeks burning read. No thoughts existed in his head at that moment besides the thought of your curves coming towards him and the way that his cock throbbed for you in his pants.
You sat yourself on the end of his bed and kicked up your right leg over the other to unbuckle the clasp on one of your heels, making sure to position yourself so that Lucifer could see more of your leg through the slit in your dress and so that you cleavage showed more prominently from the V-neckline. You look up at him through your eyelashes to see him tremble a little, his breathing starting to labor. Oh lord, you could see just how much he needed this, and that excited you even more.
You finished unclipping your heel and you let it drop to the floor with a light clatter. You straightened up and looked over your shoulder at Lucifer, "Does my good boy want to help me with my other shoe?"
Lucifer gave a little whimper and bit his lip a little as he gave you an enthusiastic nod. He was so cute and desperate, if his tail was out it would probably be wagging.
You move a little closer and kicked your left leg up onto his lap and propped yourself up to watch his work, giving him a quick cheeky look of 'Well? Get to it!'
Lucifer took a few moments to look at the red heel that was connected to the gorgeous leg that now sat in his lap. Lucifer took a breath, and then with trembling hands worked to try undoing the clasp of the shoe. It took a little longer than it took you, but he eventually got the clasp undone and let the shoe slide off the bed to the ground. Lucifer took the opportunity to slowly slide one of his hands up your leg, up to the hem of your dress, and back down in admiration. Holy hell, her skin was so soft and beautiful.
You closed your eyes and hummed softly as you soaked in the sensation of his touch on your skin, "What a good boy you are, Lucifer." You cooed, removing your leg away from his reach. He looked sad for a moment, but it would not be for long. You hooked a leg over his body and got up onto the bed, now straddling his thighs.
A surprised breathy moan escaped Lucifer's lips as you moved onto his lap and he started to dig his claws into his sheets on either side of his body.
You chuckle again before you look down at him from your new position. You had never felt more power than you did right at that moment, and it was beautiful. Seeing the King of Hell under you, desperate for your next command or touch... now that was dangerous.
As Lucifer laid under you, defenseless and breathing heavily, he released his claws from the sheets and lightly picked up the edge of the skirt of your dress on either side of you and held them softly in his hands.
"M-may I?" he asked with pleading eyes, lifting the skirt up a little to show his intensions to remove your dress.
You cross your arms and put a finger up to your cheek in an action pretending to think about, making Lucifer wait.
"P-please?" he said after several seconds, sense of urgency in his voice.
You dropped the act and smirked down at him with a pleased smile and nodded. Lucifer excitedly, but carefully worked to pull the dress off of you and tossed it onto the ground to join your shoes. Lucifer now looked at you and you saw his eyes turn from soft desperation back into a deep animalistic hunger as they raked lustfully down the new view of your body.
You sat proud of yourself as you sat straddled across Lucifer's thighs wearing a deep sapphire blue lacy bra and a matching blue thong that, frankly, served no purpose other than to be something to be ripped off of you.
Lucifer softly ran his claws up your thighs, up your hips, across your abdomen, over your breasts, up your collar bone, other your shoulders, down your arms, and down you your hands, taking in every inch of your body that he could see in that moment. You tip your head back and allow long moan to escape you as his hands glide across your body, soft but electric and hot.
You tip your head back down to look at Lucifer, his hands in yours. You release his hands and start to slide you hands up his chest to his bowtie.
"Alright, baby, your turn," you coo, starting to undo his bowtie. Lucifer began to shake and breath heavily under your touch. You toss the bowtie to the ground, slowly undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, exposing his soft pale neck. You nuzzle your face into his neck and plant your first soft kiss on his neck.
Lucifer responds to the contact with a deep and long moan, he almost couldn't take any more of this torturous, slow teasing. And yet he also felt like he couldn't get enough of it. He felt energetic and alive for the first time in what felt like forever, it was pure bliss. He never wanted it to stop.
You giggle again at his response, and continue to unbutton the remaining buttons down his shirt. You lean down to look into Lucifer's eyes and say "Now Lucifer, I want you to tell me something."
He looks up at you with shiny, lust filled eyes, "Yes?"
"Tell me... what is it that you truly desire?" you say with a smirk, as you continue work on his buttons.
Lucifer thinks for a few seconds, thinking about all of the sexy, blissful ideas he wants to tell you and then... for some reason... he turns his head to the side of his bed... her side of the bed... all of the sound goes quiet, the room starts to go blurry, everything starts to shake, and then...
It all goes dark.
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He no longer feels like he is in his bedroom, its just him... and Lilith... looking at him with her bright smile, before the smile fades, and she turns to walk away into the darkness. Then it's Charlie... happily giggling on his lap, small, clapping at his stories, before Lilith picks her up off his lap and walks out of the room with her. It's his old workshop in heaven full of his wonderful dreams and creations, now a dark red room full of endless piles of ducks. It's giving the apple to Eve, then standing in an arena of the Heavenly Council, and then the deep long fall into hell, watching his hands pale hands turn to claws, watching the white feathers of his transform to turn a deep crimson, his halo shatter into space and long red horns grow in its place on his head before he crashes to the surface of a newly created Hell.
What does he desire? What does he TRULY DESIRE?! He wants back everything he has ever lost! He wants to know why everyone has cast him away and abandon him. He wants to know why everyone had to think his dreams were so fucking dangerous. He wants to remember what it was like to not hate himself so much!
Lucifer pulled at his hair and screamed into the void of his mind as he fell to his knees and cried.
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From your perspective, you ask your question, Lucifer's eyes go from full of life and lust to empty, his head tips to the side, and they start to fill with panic as he start to hyperventilate.
You drop your current persona and start to assess the situation. You quickly move off of Lucifer and go to his side instead.
"Lucifer?" No response. "Lucifer? Talk to me, what do you need?"
Something in your voice makes Lucifer snap back from his dissociative nightmare land, but he continues to hyperventilate.
'Fuck! Think! Didn't you learn something about this on earth? '
You think for a minute, shaking your hands as you look around the room, at him, trying to think. You softly take his hand and start gently rubbing the back of it with your thumb. Lucifer snaps to look at you, so quickly, it almost startles you.
"Hey," you say with the calmest and warmest smile you can muster, "I'm here, you are ok. You are safe here with me." Lucifer continues to look at you with panic in his eyes, but with recognition there too.
"I'm a friend, you are at your house, in your bed... in... hell. Uhh... you are in the Pride ring... Nothing is going to hurt you here, you are safe," you continue to say as you continue to rub the back of his had. If you had said half of that sentence back on Earth, it would have probably made things worse, but here... hopefully it would be more grounding.
Slowly, Lucifer breathing slows its pace and he looks around the room more. You look around the room and see a cup on a nearby table.
After waiting a few more minute, you ask, "Do you want any water?" Lucifer thinks for a briefly about your question, and nods his head.
You squeeze his hand and say "I will be right back." You set down his hand, go to grab the cup, and run to the bathroom to fill it with water. You come back to Lucifer's side and give him the cup, Lucifer slowly starts to drink some water as his breathing continues to slow down to a normal rate.
After a few more minutes, he shakes his head.
"Hey," he says in a defeated tone.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" you say in a gentle voice, giving him your full and concerned attention.
He sighs, "Not great..." He was so scared, sad, angry, disappointed, full of guilt, shame.
You tip your head down in shame, "I... I'm so sorry." Lucifer looks over at you with a confused look. "I was reckless and I hurt you. Can you ever forgive me, your Highness?" Now it was you that was starting to shake a little.
Lucifer sighs, the guilt coming to the front the most out of all his current emotions. How could he explain to you just how wrong you were? But he could understand why you would think that. In his current state, he could only partly process how differently you now tended to him, how you looked at him. Almost like, you cared? That you were worried about him?
He gently put a hand on your head "Please, Lucifer is still fine, and this was not your fault, it.... it's complicated. I... thought I was ready for something like this, I was hoping I was. A small baby-step to moving forward, but no..." Lucifer tightened his left hand. "I'm not"
You looked up and his tightened hand, and for to first time noticed the gold band on his ring finger. This was not the anger and sadness of a happily married man, or even an unhappily married man, this was something... much more complicated.
You sat with Lucifer in mournful silence for what felt little forever, but it was probably not more than a few minutes.
Eventually, Lucifer sighed and broke the silence, "You should go..."
You looked up at Lucifer, whose head still hung in shame, his hand gripped tightly.
"Are you sure?" you ask softly.
Lucifer shrugged, "I'm not going to be much fun now, I don't think I'm cut out for this. Not yet anyway. Its me not you, trust me. You were amazing... it was fun while it lasted" He looked up at you with a weak smile, "You should try to enjoy the rest of your night while you can. No use letting and old sod like ruin your night."
You look down at your dress and shoes still on the floor, you sigh, pick up your dress and put it back on. You pick up your shoes and start to head to the door. You put your hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it, wish the King goodbye, and walk away... but you don't. You stand there for a second.. thinking.
Lucifer noticed you pause, and looks up at you. You turn back to meet his gaze, his face decorated in a look of half confusion, half sadness.
"May I offer one last thought?" you ask with calm confidence.
Lucifer tips his head in curiosity, "What is it?"
You take a couple step back towards him, "I wonder... I think... you had the right idea with searching for intimacy, connection, but maybe we started in the wrong direction."
Lucifer cocks an eyebrow, giving you a puzzled look, "I'm... not sure I follow."
You search again for the right words, "I mean like... uhhh... well... ok, when was the last time you just got a hug, not like a quick one, like one that made you feel cared about?"
Lucifer's body stiffened, then looked down and curled his legs close to his body, "It... its been... a long time."
You smile, and take another step towards Lucifer, and you open up your arms to him with a soft smile.
Lucifer looked up at you and perked up for a minute. Was she serious? Why did she continue to try? Why didn't she leave him to his own misery? She didn't need to care about his feelings right now... and yet... she did.
Lucifer slowly started to slide out of his bed, shirt still most of the way unbuttoned, hair all a mess, and started to walk over to you. When there was only a few feet left between the two of you, Lucifer paused, and then practically ran the rest of the way into your arms and wrapped himself around your waist, as you return the embrace.
You stand there, hugging him for a minute, 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 10 minutes, and after the first few minutes, you feel Lucifer start to shake in your arms as he started to cry. Lucifer tightened his embrace around you the harder he cried, burying his face in your shoulder. At one point he tries to wail out an apology, but you just shush him and let him continue to cry as you rubbed his back.
After about a half hour of him crying in your embrace, you ask him if he wants to continue standing there or if he wants to sit down. In response, Lucifer releases his arms from you waist and reaches up to wrap his arms around you neck instead. You adjust and decide to just go for it and pick him up, carrying him over to his bed. You sit in his bed with him hugging you around your neck as you hold him in your lap.
Lucifer could not stop the tears that flowed from his face, he didn't remember the last time he had cried this much, cried this hard. And for some reason, in your arms, he didn't care. The tears felt good. Liberating.
You don't know how much time passes, but slowly his crying starts to get quieter and quieter, turning to sniffles, until you realize that the King of Hell had just fallen asleep in your arms.
You carefully move to get up at set him down in his bed without waking him up, and you tuck him into his bed. Before you leave the room, you quickly find a piece of paper and pen, and write out a quick note. You leave the note on his side table before grabbing your shoes, turning off the light, and giving him one last look before closing the door.
You make your way back down the long manor hallway, back to where the driver said he would be, and you let him know your visit was over. You grab your coat, put on your shoes, took one last look at the beautiful inside of the manor, and walked out to the car with the driver.
Who knows if you would be back here again, but it sure was interesting while it lasted.
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Chapter 3 is in the works! Let me know if you want added to a tag list <3
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ak4e7a · 7 months
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i hate valentine’s day — boyfriend!hoon x reader
It's pretty self-explanatory. But one person is determined to change your mind.
wc: 2.1k (this was supposed to be short and then i blinked and now i’m here)
cw: fluff, slight angst if you read it sideways i guess, smut, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, lots of pet names bc hoon is a loverboy end of story
author's note: WHEEWWW my first full drabble on here! i hope y'all enjoy and please please please let me know if you do <3 likes and comments and reblogs are super appreciated ♡ happy Valentine's Day!
It’s just a capitalist holiday designed to sell flowers and chocolates and give people a reason to start a fight in their already unhappy relationship. Your friends had heard you say that time and time again, year after year, and they were almost wholeheartedly convinced that you really did not enjoy a holiday centered around love.
The truth, however, was the opposite. You loved it—the pink hearts, the stuffed animals, the candy, the red roses, the romantic gestures. You were just… bitter that you’d been spending all of the past Valentine’s days with a card and a bar of your favorite chocolate that your mom would either give to you in person or mail to your apartment once you’d moved out for college. 
You didn’t want to be one of those people that liked Valentine’s Day with a nonchalance about themselves and droned on and on about how it could also be interpreted as a day of “self-love”. You could do a lot of self-love with a rose toy and an hour of uninterrupted time locked in your room. But a rose toy wouldn’t be able to laugh at a rom-com with you, and you’d probably get looked at funny if you walked around the mall holding it in your hand for everyone to gawk at.
Did you hate seeing happy couples? Maybe.
Did that hate go away once you found yourself somehow in a relationship with the quiet boy from your statistics class? The boy who you, at first, thought seemed cold and uninterested in anything but the assignments? Just a little bit.
You told Sunghoon last week that he didn’t have to do anything, that he shouldn’t waste his paycheck from his part-time campus job on gifts when it wasn’t even Christmas or your birthday, and he’d already gotten you something for your 100 day anniversary a month ago, anyways. You hammered it home with the same speech that you’d given your friends since you learned what capitalism was.
And all he did was nod his head with a thoughtful, “Hmm,” and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose before you turned as red as the roses you’d hope he’d still get you anyways and went back to typing away at your laptop, allowing the white noise of the library to drown out your racing thoughts.
Now it’s the morning of the 14th, and you wake up in your bed, alone. You sigh, maybe Sunghoon had gone home already even though neither of you have a class today. Trudging to the bathroom, you brush your teeth and wash your face before returning to bed to sulk and stare at the wall. 
You mentally kicked yourself, this was your fault, why did you tell your first and only boyfriend you didn’t give a shit about Valentine’s Day—a holiday primarily meant for couples? Now, if you were lucky and your relationship happens to last until next year, would the next Valentine’s Day also go uncelebrated? What about your one-year anniversary? What about—
And then your door creaks open. And you scream.
Sunghoon screams, too, almost dropping the mountain of bags he’s holding.
“Why are you screaming?” Sunghoon yells, stumbling to regain his balance as he walks towards the bed. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Because I was under the assumption that I was alone in the house!” you exclaim, although now your fear is mixed with excitement as you scan his muscled arms wrapped around all the stuff he’s carrying.
“Oh,” he says, more quiet now. “You thought I left and wouldn’t come back?”
“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “I thought… I thought…”
“That I wouldn’t do anything for Valentine’s Day just because you went on that long-ass tirade in the library last week?”
You frown, eyebrows knitted together. But you’re not upset at him, no, the entire reason you let yourself fall for him was because he was always so understanding. You could feel yourself falling even more because he didn’t fall for your pathetic attempt at being a “chill, low-maintenance” girlfriend. “I don’t deserve you,” you say.
Sunghoon sets the bags on the rug beside your bed and sits beside you, immediately pulling you into his embrace. “That’s not true. You put up with a loser like me.”
“Hey,” you sniffle. “You’re my loser. Which makes you not-a-loser.”
“Alright,” he chuckles. “Whatever you say.”
You like him. You like him so much. You like the way he dresses (including his glasses), you like every single different cologne he uses, you like the way his hair falls in his face, you like the way he scrunches his nose when you offer him a bite of your mint choco ice cream, you like the way he accepts the chocolate toothpaste taste because it makes you happy to share snacks with him. You like the way he switches to his wired earphones instead of his big headphones when he studies with you so you can listen to music with him when you study. You like him. You like him a lot. In fact, you—
“I love you,” you blurt out, and the wide-eyed look he gives you makes you slap your hand over your mouth in some sort of vain attempt to get the words back in where they came from.
But just like toothpaste, once it’s squeezed out of the tube, you can’t put it back in.
Unless, of course, you had a syringe or a pipette or something but that’s neither here nor there, because you just told Park Sunghoon, your former statistics partner, Park Sunghoon, the best part-time barista on campus, Park Sunghoon, your (somewhat) new boyfriend, that you love him for the first time.
And to make it extra corny, you’ve told him on Valentine’s Day, the day you’ve adamantly lied about hating.
Sunghoon finally grins, his pearly white teeth (that you also like so much) on full display. “I knew it.”
“What?”
“I knew you liked Valentine’s Day, you little liar,” he teases, playfully flicking your forehead.
“Ugh,” you groan, falling back on your pillows. “Go home for real this time if you’re going to gloat.”
Sunghoon crawls over you, his face inches away from yours. “For the record, though, I love you, too. Lies and all.”
“Sunghoon,” you whine, trying to push at his chest. “Stop embarrassing me!”
“Sorry, sorry.” As he presses apologetic kisses to your cheek, you feel something else press against your leg.
“Hoon,” you repeat. “Are you seriously hard right now?”
“Yeah, ‘cause my girlfriend just told me she loves me.”
You smile. “Really? You’re easier than I—”
He shuts you up with a kiss. Then two. Then three. Then four. Then finally it evolves into a full-on makeout session, with your hands tangled in his hair and his hips nestled between your thighs. His glasses are on your nightstand; he’d taken them off after they were getting in his way of kissing you.
“Want it,” you murmur, as if you didn’t just tease your boyfriend for being easy to turn on. “Wanna do it...”
You figure since you’ve already confessed your feelings, losing your virginity to your boyfriend who you’re definitely madly in love with is a good idea. (Spoiler: it is.)
Now he hovers over you, looking at you with hearts in his eyes. "Relax for me, okay, baby? It's gonna hurt a little bit. Just say the word and I'll stop."
"O-okay, Hoonie."
He plants a soft kiss on your forehead before taking his shaft in his hand, pumping it twice before lining it up with your entrance. "Gonna put my cock in you now, baby... oh... ah, fuck... 's better than I imagined... So tight, even after I've prepped you... You're squeezing around my tip, you okay, sweetheart?"
You nod, biting your lip as he stretches you with his thick girth. "'M okay, Hoonie, 's just big, so big..."
"You're being such a good girl for me, baby. 'M gonna push it all the way inside you now, okay? Just breathe." One of his hands skims down your body, reaching in between you two to stroke at your clit. The pleasurable friction against your nerves dulls out the pain of him breaking your hymen, but you cry out nonetheless.
"Ah! Hoonie, it hurts," you whimper, your chest heaving and nails digging into his back. 
"'M sorry, baby, we can stop now if you want. I don't mind—"
"No!! No, please, just... don't move yet, please? Need t'get used to—fuck—you inside..."
"Alright, baby. I'll keep still." He kisses your cheek, petting your hair gently. Then he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. He's so beautiful, it's mesmerizing. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? So pretty and perfect for me... you're getting my cock so wet, baby. Want me to make you cum like this? Make you feel better?"
"Y-yes please!"
He leans back until his head is just above where you’re connected, and you watch his abs flex in that position. He spits on your clit, rubbing it in slow, languid circles. Softly, he asks, "you're such a sweet little girl, anything else you want, love?"
You clench around him at the pet name, your entire body flushing with warmth. "Um... can you... um..."
"Oh, I know," he smirks, his free hand moving up to toy with your nipples. "Does it feel good with my cock inside you, baby? Gonna cum while you're stuffed full of me?"
"Yes, so good, Hoonie, thank you!" You squirm a little, unintentionally grinding yourself against his dick, and the movement makes him groan. 
"Fuck," he says under his breath. "You're so cute... and you're so hot, you don't even know it... that's it, pretty girl, cum whenever you want. you earned it."
"Hoonie," you keen, back arching off the bed as you orgasm around him. "can you m-move, please?"
"Yeah, baby, you like being stretched by me? Gonna let me fuck you open, sweetheart?"
"Y-yeah... y'can move now, Hoonie."
"God," he chokes out, thrusting shallowly. "You're sucking me in so good, baby." He puts a hand over your lower abdomen, pressing down. "Can you feel me right there?"
You squeal as the tip of his dick rubs firmly against your g-spot. "Y-yes! 'S big, so big, hoonie!"
“You're so tight, princess, gonna make me cum so soon already, fuck, pussy feels like heaven..."
"So... big," you gasp, staring up at him in adoration. He's so handsome. 
He reaches down and tenderly cups your cheek before leaning in and kissing you softly. "Taking me like a good girl, baby... 'm I making you feel good?"
“Yes, yes,” you manage to stutter out, legs wrapping around his slender waist.
"Gonna cum... need to pull out, baby, can I cum—fuck! Can I cum on you, baby, please?"
"Yes! Yesyesyes! Cum on me, Hoonie, wanna feel it!"
"Where... where do you want my cum, princess?" he pants, sliding his cock out of you and stroking himself.
"Cum on my pussy, Hoonie!"
He groans, and the two of you look down and watch as he cums right over your core, the milky essence dripping down onto the bed. Despite the mess, he immediately lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms like you’re about to go back to sleep.
You feel good. Maybe better than good. Definitely better than good. You can hear his heartbeat when you rest your head on his chest.
“Aw, fuck,” Sunghoon mutters into the crown of your head. “I think the ice in your drink melted.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I went out to get your gifts from my apartment, and I got you an iced matcha from that one place you like on the way back.”
“I’ll drink it anyways… but you didn’t have to get me any gifts,” you mumble, still trying to stay true to your lie, even though Sunghoon has already seen right through it. But you definitely mean the next sentence. “Just spending the day with you is enough for me.”
“I know, I know. But I wanted to. I never want you to feel like I only do things for you because you ask me to. I want you to know that I do them because I love you.”
Okay. Maybe you really did hate Valentine’s Day before.
But not anymore. You feel good. You feel great. You’re loved, and you’re in love.
You look up at him and he kisses you on the forehead before you repeat, “I love you, too.”
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asunflowerana · 23 days
Text
lotus love
summary: who knew a festival miles away from home would help Miya confess his feelings.
with: Osamu Miya
warnings: friends to lovers, oblivious reader, tatoos, dear osamu is so patient i can't 😅 fluff fluff fluff
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Another road sign appears in your field of vision, a red ‘60’ stamped on the painted wood making Osamu slow down while driving, a gentle wind now coming through the open window and running your skin. It’s been almost three hours since you guys started the road trip to Kanagawa, and even though you enjoy watching the beautiful landscape sideways, your stomach is making a riot inside for food.
Being the copilot, you check out your current location on your phone’s map, letting out a relieved sigh as you notice a small festival going on a few miles away.
This is it.
You hear him chuckling, having no idea that he actually heard that sigh along with your now pleased expression. “Did ya find our next stop?”
“Lotus Festival, five kilometers away.” You answer him, scrolling through the event’s pictures. “Oooh, I found a yakitori stall there! Okay, we need to stop in this place.” Just imagining the seasoned grilled chicken skewered in a kushi makes your mouth drool faster than the car’s wheels.
“You got it.” Osamu smiles, also liking the idea of filling his tummy to the brim with food. “But, why Lotus?”
You search for the meaning on the web. “It says that this festival happens in the blooming season, which represents the 'rejuvenation of love’, in a few cultures. It’s most visited for old couples to rekindle their relationship, and singles searching for love. It’s really sweet…” You add, looking at some old married folks hugging each other. “But it’s kinda weird? Like, imagine someone traveling there just to find love? What if they find nothing and return home with a broken heart and less than twenty bucks?” You ponder out loud.
“Yeah, that sucks,” He mumbles, suddenly getting more interested in this festival. He turns to look at you, still paying attention to the empty road. “But it’s not the end of the world. The love of your life might be right beside ya, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” You’re too worried about the hypothetical heartbroken person to notice Osamu’s eyes lingering on you a tad longer before his shoulders slumped in defeat and his brown eyes return ahead.
Ten minutes later, and the “Welcome to Lotus Festival ” banner appears, its spring colors matching the flowery environment. It’s so beautiful, the greenish square full of lotus with different colors, bringing such a delicious aroma that it attracted several little birds on the way, drinking their nectar like they’re in a feast.
Osamu parks his blue jeep alongside a truck, and together you both walk to the festival, leaving your bags behind and carrying only the essentials inside your purse — wallet, phones, some painkillers, and your small polaroid camera.
There’re a lot of stalls selling bouquets, natural lotions, hair accessories and floral jewelry, clothes, as well as food and beverage stalls. In the middle of the square, a white bandstand decorated with fairy lights and leaves, with mistletoe hanging in the center.
There’s so much to see, that you might be staying there for more than an hour's break.
But first things first, you carry the grey-haired man by hand through the festival, ignoring his confused questions until you finally found your target.
The smell of yakitori invades your nostrils and takes all of your self-control to not steal a bit from a kid who just got their steaming portion. You both look at each other for a second, hungry gaze in your eyes before you two run to the booth, money in hands and mouth begging for food.
“Four yakitoris for the couple.” The seller says evenly, handing you the warm skewers. Osamu forgets his food desire and gazes surprised at you, but you’re already devouring your grilled chicken like a starved lion.
“…Thanks.” Hesitant, he doesn’t correct the seller, handing him the money and moving away in your direction.
Did you really not hear what that guy said?
“Mmmmm… this is heaven.” You hum in delight, savoring the good taste as you finish your first skewer in record time. You look at him more pleased than before. “Thanks for the treat, ‘Samu. Choose whatever you want next, I’m buying.”
He nods in agreement and decides to forget the matter, taking a bite of his yakitori.
He doesn’t stop until it’s all gone.
You guys keep strolling, you buy some sweets for him while he treats you with a warm drink for the chilling weather, walking on the grass until a different booth catches your eye. On the sign, it shows that it’s a henna tattoo booth, choose one of the holiday models and you get a discount.
You get excited, having a new tattoo sounds super fun and it adds to the memories of this trip. And by the way Osamu is grinning down at you, he agrees with the idea as well.
Approaching the booth, you both look through the catalog, each model more beautiful than the other, making you undecided about the best.
“We could do matching tattoos.” Osamu proposes, pointing at the matching models on the second catalog page.
You nod, looking through the sketches. “They’re all so beautiful… I’ll let you decide.” You don’t usually trust him with those stylish things, but if you were to choose, you’d stay 30 minutes just gazing at them.
He hums for a moment, before pointing out at a beautiful Lotus sketch. “How about this one?”
“Rejuvenation of love. It’s a great choice, lots of couples order this one.” The woman owner of the booth says, a small smirk plastered on her face; Your brows raise, and Osamu is nervous, expecting a possible rejection, but you surprise him with your reaction. 
“That’s so genius ‘Samu! That way, we won’t even forget about this festival!”
Both of them deadpan.
“Good luck buddy.” The artist mumbles close to him, patting his shoulder before guiding you both to your seats. Another missed shot.
As it was on the sign, about thirty minutes passed before the tattoos were finally done, a lotus flower now decorating the inside of your forearms. The woman even did a thin stalk in both, which when the two forearms joined, would connect the flowers into a single branch.
This is so meaningful, but Osamu isn’t sure if it has the same meaning for you as it has for him. He thought his feelings would be clear as the sun's rays by now, but you’re still oblivious to them, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. The hints aren’t landing, and the wonder of whether you like him back or not is eating his brain alive, for a long time.
He can keep this trip friendly as planned, visiting Kanagawa for the day before returning to Shibuya as best friends. But there’s a growing chance that someone else might get the shot that he wants so badly with you, and if he doesn’t take this moment now, he might not have another one.
So after paying for the tattoos, he leads you to the white bandstand, wanting to “take some pictures” there. He waits for the right moment when no one is there, and takes you by the hand to the middle.
He doesn’t let go of you.
“Is everything okay?” You notice the way he’s nibbling his lower lip with his canine, something he usually does to calm down. He takes a deep breath, gazing at your eyes with determination.
“I like you.”
Osamu never liked to stall, so it’s best to just rip off the bandage. He keeps a firm grip on your hand as your brows finally raise in realization. “I like you. I don’t know when it started, and I don’t really care, I just know that it will never stop. I can’t stop wanting you. And I don’t know if I didn’t hit it right, or your pretty head is too oblivious to notice — Okay, sorry but you know it’s probably the second.” He chuckles, letting out the adrenaline from his pounding heart. “…I’m in love with you, _____.”
He recites as if they are the most important words to him, moving closer to you as he stares with passion at your shining, surprised orbs. He takes your face in his free hand, and his heart skips as you accept the caress, interlacing his fingers with yours while still speechless.
He doesn’t need an answer to see that you feel the same.
He looks above to the ceiling for a moment, your eyes following and noticing that you both are right under the mistletoe. He grins down at you, one of his cheeky smiles that makes your heart throb in adoration.
“Not that I need one of those to kiss you, but since this is our first—” He nuzzles his nose with yours, his skin gently grazing and soothing you. He whispers close, not taking his eyes off yours.
“Can I kiss you?”
Enchanted by his spell, you give him a small nod, granting him the freedom to lock his sultry lips with yours, making you forget everything else and focus only on the magical feeling of his passionate kiss, legs weakening and body resting inside his warm embrace.
You can’t hear some people applauding you from afar, nor feel the present flower scent around the place. But the lingering thought of your tattoos brushing against each other doesn’t leave your head anymore.
Rejuvenation of love. Lotus Festival is true to its word.
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a/n: i confess, i love when boys are the one pining around.
© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.
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