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sunkendreams · 4 months

Note

Idk exactly what to ask for, but I have an ✨idea✨

Dwayne who seemingly has a penchant for choking his SO. He just loves the little whimpers and moans they make, and the way they squirm.

Really basic, ik 💀. You can take this and run, or simply enjoy this thought with me, but I wanted to share 🥰

moving in stereo.

( dwayne x fem!reader. )

➾ pairing ; dwayne x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.9K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, breeding kink, scent kink, p in v sex, missionary position, rough sex, begging, unprotected sex, mating press (a little bit), choking, bruising/marking, dwayne is hot

author’s note: i am so obsessed with him, it’s not even funny ngl :’) also, I have a couple of other fics/drabbles that I’ll probably post tonight too, I’m definitely feeling very inspired! If you haven’t voted on my poll, please do so! thank you guys sm for your continued love & support !! ❤️

Beads of blood filled your mouth as you absentmindedly chewed at the skin of your cheek, flesh taut between your back molars — you hadn’t intended to bite down as hard as you did. A singular glance at Dwayne’s hands had contorted into shameless ogling, smitten hues discreetly flickering over the veins and smudges of grayish grease coating his fingers.

He had a way with machinery that transcended you — he often claimed that it was simply natural instinct, but your running theory was something buried in his past life. Dwayne was known for his stoicism and quiet demeanor, neglecting to educate you on his background.

It must’ve been a life of hard work — otherwise, his hands wouldn’t have appeared so rough and calloused. They weren’t smooth and spindly like Marko’s, or pretty like Paul’s. They were taut and thick, dexterous and built for destruction, if he let it.

Hands that had held you many times before, touched you in ways that you longed to feel again. A shudder rolled down your spine as you daydreamed, mind floating into a fantastical haze of lascivious thoughts. If it weren’t for the presence of the other boys, a tendril of drool might’ve leaked from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?”

Paul’s agitated groan reverberated throughout the cavern as he crouched beside his boombox, slapping a palm against the top of the speaker, as if that would cure all ailments. His brows furrowed together, lip curled in annoyance as he knocked his hand against the machine a second time — for good measure.

“You’ll ruin it if you keep it up.” Dwayne’s monotonous remark echoed from the opposite side of the lobby. He was entrenched in repairing his motorcycle after it had gotten vandalized by a Surf-Nazi who didn’t live to tell the tale. Paul’s beloved stereo was the least of his concerns.

“How are we gonna listen to Alice?” A begrudging sigh escaped Paul, whose theatrics weren’t out of the ordinary. He huffed, falling in a dramatic heap along the edge of the dilapidated fountain. “Can’t you fix it, Dwayne?” He asked, peering toward his brother, who seemed entirely uninterested.

Silence filled the chasm between them, prompting you to stifle a smile. Dwayne didn’t enjoy being bothered whenever he was working on a project — he was always one to see it through until the very end.

David and Marko emerged from their abysmal resting place. Once the sun disappeared behind the ocean and dusk consumed dawn, the boys became wildly active. “Paul,” David’s voice carried, always domineering without even trying. “Let’s go.”

Disappointed in the lack of closure for his treasured boombox, Paul relented, rolling off of the stone bannister with an exaggerated sigh. He ruffled your hair in passing, and smacked Dwayne on the way out, who didn’t flinch or move a muscle. He simply exhaled — you could sense the twinge of irritation in his sigh alone.

Paul snickered, hopping up the ledge alongside David and Marko. “See you later, bud.” He sneered, waving at you as he departed with his brothers. Once the trio slunk away into the moonlight, it left you and Dwayne by yourselves in the cave.

You could’ve watched Dwayne work for hours, captivated by the way he dismantled the machinery, handling the finer pieces with nimble digits. He was wrist-deep in the grease-laden guts of his motorcycle, surrounded by a myriad of scrap and parts. His dark brows were furrowed together in stark concentration.

Intrigued, you abandoned your perch — a rickety, velvet-cushioned chair that had come with the hotel’s ancient wreckage. Paul’s stereo was sitting along the ledge, awaiting a tune-up that you knew Dwayne would inevitably provide. You sat down, inspecting it for any damage — it looked unharmed, on the outside.

“Do you think it was a user error sort of thing?” A burst of laughter escaped you as you opened up the hatch for the cassette tapes, noticing a rather banged-up copy of Alice Cooper’s Constrictor from ‘86. It was a good choice — you had to commend Paul’s taste in music.

Dwayne’s soft, bemused huff was all you needed to hear, prompting you to smile. You never mistook his tranquil, halcyon demeanor as indifference — he was a man of very few words. Even his temper wasn’t violent or tempestuous, like that of Marko or David. His placidity in most things was what drew you to him in the first place.

Being a human amongst a den of rancorous vampires wasn’t your intention, but you were happy — happiest with Dwayne, above all. He was the best boyfriend you’d ever had, not that it was a lengthy list. You idly fiddled with some of the switches on the boombox, removing and reinserting the cassette before closing it up.

Much to your chagrin, the stereo didn’t work — maybe it wasn’t Paul’s imagination after all. You gently nudged it back along the ledge, abandoning it for now. “How come you didn’t go with the others?” You inquired, folding one leg over the other, tapping the heel of your boot against the dusty stone.

There was a slight shift in his body language — a mere shrug of his broad shoulders, accompanied by the noises of metal clanging, gears twisting, and then he grunted. “I’m not looking for dinner.” Dwayne replied, matter-of-factly. He was in the midst of replacing the engine on his bike, placing the damaged part aside, hands stained in dark ichor.

With a soft hum, you pushed yourself off of the ledge, wandering over toward Dwayne’s scrapyard — a rather cluttered corner of the cave that acted as a makeshift garage. You sat along one of the flat outcroppings of rock, opting to watch him fix up his motorcycle. It would intrigue you more than messing with the boombox ever would.

His pearlescent teeth clenched around a wrench, clutched between his maw as he focused on putting the new engine back in. There was a quiet appreciation that he held for you — you were always respectful of his hobbies, if this even counted as one. Dark eyes flickered toward you, sitting there in your billowing sundress like some statuesque angel.

Dwayne appraised you in his usual silence, eyes carefully raking along your physique, as if he were undressing you through gaze alone. His jaw tensed, a fire beginning to spark within his chest, threatening to spread like an encroaching wildfire the longer he ogled you.

Sundresses were a hot commodity — and they never lasted, either. Dwayne made sure of it, and once he got his hands on you, that pretty fabric shielding you from him would cease to exist. He made it up to you with the gift of another, but rest assured, it would be shortlived.

It was a mutual feeling, the silent staring. His keen hues settled along the supple curves hiding just beneath that thin veil of fabric while you were captivated by the visual feast of strong, capable hands and taut forearms. You folded your hands within your lap, beginning to absentmindedly chew at your inner cheek again.

Your scent wafted throughout the short distance between the both of you, heavy with hints of your favorite perfume, a saccharine concoction that Dwayne had grown accustomed to. He loved your smell — it was unique to you, invading his senses as he continued his work.

Those strong, muscled hands of his were buried in the underbelly of the motorcycle, carefully placing the new engine back inside. He began to fasten it all into place, removing the wrench from his mouth, quickly fixing it all up with a series of bolts, screws, and metallic plates.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Dwayne was, oddly enough, the one to shatter the comfortable silence between the both of you. He prided himself on playing mechanic — his ability to handle such equipment and repair it was rather renowned. Once he was satisfied with the job, he sat back, peering toward you.

Warmth oozed from those earthen-brown hues of his, coupled with a subtle adoration that only he possessed for you. Your smile only served to further it, the only thing to make his dead heart pump to life again.

“I’d like that,” You mused, canting your head to one side. “I think you should fix Paul’s stereo, too.” Even if Dwayne had brushed him off before, he would fix it and have it ready for him whenever he came back. It was the right thing to do, anyway.

Dwayne huffed, lips twitching into a threadbare smile, wrought with traces of amusement. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. He wiped his hands off along the crimson cloth he carried in his back pocket, ridding his hands of engine grease and oil.

He stood, filling in his full height as he bent down to give you a kiss, hand carding through the back of your skull. It never failed to make you shudder, haplessly squeezing your thighs together as you reached for his forearm. Powerful, taut muscle flexed underneath your fingertips, and his kiss briefly intensified before he withdrew.

That familiar aching sensation flickered to life between your legs, a dull arousal pooling within your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to cling to him, beg for another kiss, but Dwayne was already over to the stereo, inspecting it for any damage it might’ve had.

For Dwayne, your mind was exceptionally loud — he could read your thoughts, hear them screaming from afar, which he happened to smile at from where he stood. The feeling was mutual, but he wanted to make you stew in it for a little while — it heightened the experience.

As he dismantled the stereo, you decided to go elsewhere — to Paul’s nest, which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he had an impressive collection of cassette tapes. You began climbing toward the rocky slope that led off into alcoves, using some of the ropes hanging about to pull yourself up.

“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, seemingly finding the source of the boombox’s disarray — there were pieces of tape stuck in the machine.

“To see what Paul has to listen to,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “It’s the least that he can do for you since you fixed it. We should go listen to music.” Truthfully, Dwayne owned that stupid stereo just as much as Paul did — joint custody, you’d called it.

Hawkish, dark hues drank you in from afar, and Dwayne decided that he’d indulge himself in your wishes, picking up the boombox by the bottom. The handle had been broken off long ago — courtesy of Paul, once again. He simply trailed behind you, briefly pressing his hand against the small of your back when you made it up the incline, keeping you steady.

Paul’s nest was notoriously cluttered — in a very fascinating and macabre manner. It was littered in trinkets, things he’d taken from people he fed from, bones and all, or general thievary. The boys were all like this, but not to Paul’s level.

Posters of hair-bands and metal groups hung all around the rock, illuminated by flickering candlelight. It smelled faintly of marijuana, decorated by a patchwork array of tapestries, clothes, and stolen jackets. The guitar he’d lifted off of a traveling rock group sat on his bed — he always talked about starting a band.

A mountain of cassette tapes lay in a semi-organized heap, many of them taken from Videomax or anywhere he could find them. Dwayne simply stood at the fringes of Paul’s nest, watching as you picked through his extensive collection. You smiled at the handful you’d grabbed, rejoining Dwayne as the two of you made for his nest.

In an amusing juxtaposition, Dwayne’s nest was noticeably simplistic — yet, his personality was scrawled all over it. He liked to read, keeping a trunk of books, tools he’d taken from garages, and some trinkets stashed away in a large piece of a drawer.

He hadn’t bothered to invest in a bed for several decades — not until he got entangled with you. When Marko had mentioned it to you in-passing, it was rather intriguing, but you never asked Dwayne about it.

With the stereo now placed at the foot of his makeshift bed, placed atop a rather rickety wooden trunk, you ejected Alice Cooper from the hatch and put in The Cars, instead. Dwayne happened to regard this choice with curiosity, sitting along the edge of the mattress.

Moving in Stereo began to drift through the alcove, and you promptly fell back against the plush surface, tucking your hands atop your chest. “This song reminds me of you.” You murmured, gazing at the cavernous ceiling, focused on the jagged edges and outcroppings of rock.

Dwayne seemed curious, twisting slightly to face you. Even when sitting, he towered over you, indomitable and immovable, a wall of sheer strength and muscle. “Why does it remind you of me?” He wanted to hear your answer, eyes flickering toward your exposed stomach.

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but you decided to answer him anyway. “I don’t know,” You began, rolling over onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand. “Just a bit of a mystery, but alluring. It’s pretty magnetizing.” With a soft exhale, you began to pick at a stray string on one of the blankets that covered the mattress.

“Magnetizing,” Dwayne echoed, withholding the urge to smirk. Instead, he joined you, laying on his side as he mirrored your position, face mere centimeters away from yours. “You got a way with words, girl.” His chest shook with a brief huff before he leaned in to kiss you.

If a kiss could have destroyed you, this was it — Dwayne’s mouth consumed you, intensified by your seemingly innocuous words. He tasted good, like spiced smoke and the faint bite of copper.

You were eternally grateful to The Cars — Dwayne was careening into you, broad chest flush against yours, veined hand grasping at the base of your skull. Thick digits massaged at the nape of your neck, coaxing you close until there was no space left between you, lips voraciously tangling with yours.

He ripped all wisps of air from your lungs, as cold as ice as he shrugged off his jacket. Arousal reactivated inside of you, no longer dormant as your warm hands reached for his chest, feeling broad muscle underneath your palms. He felt like a god — chiseled, forever perfect — you were sometimes in-awe of his beauty.

In awe — Dwayne smirked against your mouth, unable to help himself when it came to your overactive imagination and racing thoughts. He pushed his hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your curves as he began to feel a familiar tightening in his jeans.

Your scent thoroughly intoxicated him — your natural musk, the cling of perfume, the arousal coalescing between your thighs — it was a perfect amalgamation. Dwayne exhaled, sitting up and taking you with him, hands hooking into the hem of your shirt as he peeled it off of you.

His lips were on your flesh again, hands tearing your thin brassiere apart with ease, reveling in your warmth. Dwayne pressed a string of kisses along your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse point pound against his mouth. The shorts you wore still clung to your frame, but they wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Dwayne,” You sighed, The Cars becoming nothing more than atmospheric background noise. Liquid heat pooled between your legs, a shiver rolling down your spine as he laid you down against the mattress, covering you with his body. Your eyes locked together as he stared down at you, gaze boring right through you. “I need you.”

Dwayne kissed your neck, sucking enough to create a hickey before he traveled to the base of your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone. “Where do you need me, sweet girl?” His husky, warm baritone made you shiver in delight. Those eyes raked over you in rapture, full of reverence.

“Everywhere,” You whimpered, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. Dwayne’s huff of laughter made you smile, and you quickly urged him closer for another kiss. His mouth crashed against yours, passionate and blistering, full of an unrestrained want. “I’m yours.” A sweet moan tore past your lips.

A wave of possessiveness swelled up inside of him, coupled with that innate desire to keep you all to himself. Dwayne didn’t have an issue sharing with his brothers, but you? No — you belonged to him, and him alone. A growl rippled across his broad chest as he tore his lips away, returning to your sternum.

There was a prowess to him that the others didn’t possess — Dwayne was emotionally intelligent, just as vicious in the same breath. He was an enigma of so many things, drawing you in with his arcadian charm. Your fingers reached for his dark tresses, perusing through as he kissed your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Dwayne’s affectionate baritone rumbled across your flesh as he continued his slow, deliberate string of kisses, making his way to your breasts. He trapped one nipple between his lips, gently suckling on the sensitive mound, the other hand tugging at your shorts. “Perfect.” He uttered.

You sighed, fingers tangling within his mane of black tresses, pulling and carding through. It felt silky between your digits, like velvet. Those veined, calloused hands gripped along the meat of your hips, strong and unwavering as he lifted you to discard your shorts.

Arousal pooled between your legs, honey-thick as it toyed with Dwayne’s senses. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself between your thighs, devour you until you were a trembling, mewling mess. Your thoughts shamelessly echoed that sentiment, prompting him to reach toward the apex of your thighs, hand breaking past the waistline of your panties.

Dexterous fingers languidly slipped along your slick cunt, making a line right for your clit. Your body responded in a near-violent fashion, hips jolting up into him, hands curling within his hair. “D—Dwayne!” You whimpered, chasing after the friction his hand provided. Those dark hues hadn’t left you, transfixed on your smitten countenance as he kissed your stomach.

He looked big when his body was spread over yours, but when he began to slink toward your thighs, he was hulking, a massive wall of muscle. Dwayne’s kisses continued, littered all across your pelvis and thighs, fingers still winding you up as he pushed in between your legs with those broad, bronze shoulders.

His visage was rugged with a fine layer of dark stubble, tangible as it scratched against your inner thighs. He curled his hands into your panties, and instead of removing them, Dwayne simply tore them asunder, leaving remnants of fabric behind. The alcove reverberated with the sounds of material being ripped apart.

A thin sheen of arousal painted your cunt, scent stinging his nose in the most pleasant way possible. The velveteen flesh of your inner thighs were layered in faint bite marks — his own, from the past. He looked to you for approval, thumb lazily circling around your clit.

“Please.” You huffed, head bobbing up and down in an idle nod as he moved his lips toward a patch of flesh, unmarred by any bites. Dwayne was always very sensual, and even when he fed from you, it felt so lascivious. Your body jolted, hips writhing closer as he began to bite down.

Dark, earthy-brown hues melted away into pools of a golden-red, unnaturally vibrant. The initial sting of his bite made you wince, but he was always gentle with you when it came to feeding. As sharp teeth drew blood, a low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver. Your fingers continued to trace through his mane of black hair, a myriad of moans escaping you.

Restraining himself from taking this further, he had his fill, kissing over your now-healing bite. Dwayne licked his lips, effortlessly tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulders as he tugged you closer. You were somewhat folded at the hips, but you didn’t care.

Dwayne’s gaze was incendiary, intense — he stared you down from his perch between your thighs. You were visibly flustered, staring right back, nearly shrinking away altogether. He kissed your thighs, mouth dangerously close to your aching cunt. “You ready, girl?” He asked, inhaling another gust of your scent.

You nodded, feeling every fiber of your being scream with desire, and you wanted him terribly. “Yes,” You whimpered, hands having splayed out at your sides instead, no longer buried within his hair. “Dwayne, please,” His deliberation made it worse. “I want you so bad.” Your hips wriggled again, desperate for his mouth.

A warm, hearty chuckle emerged from his lips, making his herculean form shake between your legs. “Just relax,” He soothed, noticing how coiled and poised you were. Those strong, veined hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread apart. The flat of his tongue lapped across your slit in one long stroke. “Relax, Mama.” His voice made your head swim.

Relaxation wasn’t exactly your forte — you were too wound-up, too drunk with desire to simply sit still and melt into the mattress. Dwayne’s tongue began to lap you up, greedily consuming every drop of your sweet arousal, working along your cunt. His fingers clamped hard, enough to leave behind the inklings of bruises, etched into your flesh like his personal brand.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze at his head, but he kept your legs firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning you down and rendering you immobile. Your taste saturated his tongue, and he only chased after it, dutifully lapping at your slit as his nose absentmindedly grazed against your clit.

Dwayne was relatively silent — and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The only ambiance happened to be The Cars, your delighted moans, and your boyfriend’s deep, rumbling grunts. His tongue worked wonders on your aching slit, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing as he lapped you up, gaze flickering towards you.

Your countenance was a vision of beauty, all contorted into an expression of complete and utter bliss. Your hips writhed, with very little room to go considering that Dwayne had you locked down, arms bracketed on your thighs, keeping you caged in against him.

A heavy fire burned bright within the pit of your stomach, demanding to be extinguished. Throaty, noisy moans escaped you in droves, vocalizing your delight as Dwayne vigorously lapped at your cunt. He alternated patterns, between soft and exploratory and recklessly needy. His mouth occasionally brushed over your clit, causing you to shiver.

Each time he ate you out, it was almost like the first time all over again — blissful, filled with a lust-infused passion that threatened to swallow you whole. Dwayne was beyond attentive, savoring you as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

He lowered himself toward the mattress, musculature flat and poised between your thighs. Those strong, thick arms kept you held in-place, keeping you locked in as he continued to lap at your core. His hips rocked forward, harshly grinding against the bed to relieve some of the friction.

Much to your surprise, Dwayne got off on pleasuring you above all else. There was something intimately carnal about it, knowing that you only made those sounds for him, only let him touch you. Your hips jolted forward, met with a barrage of an eager tongue and mouth as he lapped at your cunt.

Dwayne grunted, lips opting to purse around your clit, instead. Your reaction was visceral, moans ascending to an excitable crescendo as your hands flew toward his hair. He grunted again, attempting to vocalize his own satisfaction of you pulling and tugging on his dark tresses as if they were reins.

A burnished-gold coloration had swallowed brown irises whole, flickering down towards your blissed-out visage. Your body had a mind of its own, twitching and writhing as his mouth relentlessly assaulted your aching cunt. Pleasure licked acros your frame, burning along your sensitive nerves. He was vigorous and attentive, throat itching with a dull, familiar ache.

Hunger could wait — Dwayne merely placed that feeling into the recesses of his mind. His tongue continued to cascade across your slit, lapping at your arousal before he returned his attention to your clit, suckling on that bundle of nerves. He steered you towards your orgasm, mind swimming with a thick haze of lust, overwhelmed by your heady scent.

“Dwayne!” Your voice carried above the nest, echoing throughout your cavernous surroundings. Fortunately, you were alone — you had little desire to mask how you felt about him. Needy digits gripped at his tresses again, hips bucking into his mouth until you were simply a pile of mush, unable to respond.

You were lost to the white-hot heat of your release, an explosive sensation that caused you to quiver and spasm in delight. A glittering perspiration danced across your hot flesh, sparkling from the glow of the candlelight. “Dwayne,” You huffed, a whimper emerging from the back of your throat as he dutifully cleaned you up.

He released your hips from his ironclad hold, crawling along your body until his broad frame nestled between your thighs. That taut, muscled hand rest against the base of your throat, digits gingerly squeezing on either side of your windpipe. You initiate a rather tantalizing kiss, able to taste yourself upon his tongue.

A clattering sound resonates in your vicinity, Dwayne wrestling his belt off of his hips as his jeans sag upon his frame. He’s swift, wrangling his pants aside with one hand, the other clutching onto your pretty throat like a vice, evoking a string of sinful noises from your mouth. You kiss him with a desperation that he matches tenfold.

His hips brush against yours, and the distance is nonexistent, closed by your stoic paramour, whose normally-cold gaze reflects with a semblance of warmth. Your hands clamor for his broad shoulders, sinking into the expanse of bronze skin, nails clamping down when he drags the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Speak up, sweet girl.” Dwayne grunts, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. He thoroughly enjoyed your begging on occasion, with this happening to be one of those occurrences. His lips briefly press against the side of your face, stubble grazing across your silken complexion.

With an agonizing pace, he continued to toy with you, pushing his cock against your entrance, but declining to go any further. A pained whine escaped you as you tilted yourself closer. The hand around your throat squeezes, effectively commanding your attention.

“Please,” You sputter, squirming in delight whenever those veined digits tense around the slender expanse of your jugular. “Dwayne, please,” Your simpering pleas are met with a hiss as he sluggishly sinks into you, inch by inch. He lets out another shallow rumble when your fingers brazenly dig into his shoulder. “Please move!”

Cold-blooded and dangerous — but not to you, not now. The icy temperature of his flesh swallows the warmth wafting from you as he invades your space, musculature eclipsing any light. His shadow falls across you, visage awash with his own carnal delight. You’re tight around him, aided by your arousal.

Another satisfactory snarl rips forth from his mouth, echoing next to your ear. You wrap your legs around his broad hips, gasping when he began to move. His cock hit new depths, pulling halfway out before Dwayne pushed himself back in again. His pace was rhythmic and passionate — not sloppy or too rough.

The pad of his thumb draws circles along the curve of your jawline, the rest of his hand tight around your windpipe. You moan, legs locked like a vice as he continues to roll his hips forward, cock battering its way into your cunt with a domineering force. Dwayne was taking it easy on you — if he lost control, it wouldn’t be very pretty for either of you.

His lips find yours, kissing you fervently as you reciprocate in a flurry of passion. Heat bled from you, arousal seeping from your core as Dwayne continued to rut into you, one hand splayed beside your head. The sparkling sheen of his ring glints in the lower light, mouth relentlessly assaulting yours in a barrage of kisses.

Dwayne grunts into your mouth, but the entanglement is shortlived as he moves to cover parts of your neck in kisses — whatever parts aren’t covered by his hand. You feel the sudden scrape of razor-sharp fangs drifting over your flesh, testing your resolve. You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as you grip and pull on his hair.

Sometimes you simply forgot that he was a specter of the night, a fanged creature who had the capability to rip you apart at any moment. His fangs continue to hover across your neck before they retracted, lips replacing them as he kissed your pulse point. There was an added element of thrill and exhilaration as you whimpered, his name spilling from your mouth over and over again.

You nearly see stars when he pistons himself into you again, slow and savoring you, enjoying the sluggishness of it all as Dwayne continues to drag out his thrusts. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his length, prompting you to whimper and moan, goosebumps coalescing along your spine.

“More,” It was incoherent, a string of needy babbles that escaped you in droves. “Dwayne, please,” You whimpered, chewing at your lower lip. In the midst of his own pleasure, Dwayne’s calculating stare flickered toward you — it wasn’t a good idea. “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, hearing the growl that echoed deep from within his chest.

“You sure?” Dwayne didn’t want to hurt you, but he was inclined to obey your needy command. Another grunt escaped him as he steadily rutted away into your tight cunt, deliberating in the midst of it all. “Won’t be gentle.” His stark warning was concrete, you knew this — you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded several times over, digits gently curling around his wrist. “Yeah.” You panted, chest fluttering with a tight sensation as he gave you a hasty, passionate kiss, a parting gift as he squeezed at your jugular. That steady rhythm began to pick up instantaneously.

Dwayne made sure to watch you closely, gaze hawkishly trained upon your body as he began to fuck you. The intensity and the heat rose like a tidal wave, consuming the both of you as he pounded away at your poor cunt. Your legs rattled like leaves, attempting to stay locked around his waist.

The taut muscles of his shoulders and abdomen worked in-tandem, body effortlessly exerting strength. For him, it was nothing — for you, it was a different experience entirely. He was rough, manhandling you with one hand as he grabbed at your hips, enough to leave behind faint impressions in the form of bruises.

Moving in Stereo still swallowed any background noise, encompassing the whole of Dwayne’s nest. You were a complete and utter mess, devolving into a puddle of sweet moans and needy whimpers, especially whenever he applied pressure around your throat. He squeezed whenever he thrust into you, force akin to that of a barely-restrained battering ram.

Even in his self-proclaimed roughness, Dwayne was still executing some measure of restraint. “Mine,” His thunderous voice swarmed you from all sides as he fucked you into submission, gritting pearlescent teeth together as he approached his climax. You kept nodding, back arching into his touch.

“Dwayne,” Dwayne — it feels like the only word you’re capable of saying, rolling from your tongue with a wanton moan. You tug on his tresses with an urgency, feeling his hips grind against yours, flesh kissing flesh with unyielding thrusts. His cock continues to bury itself deep inside of your needy slit until it can go no further. “S—Shit! Right there!” You cry.

He huffs, musculature flat against you, chest to chest as you coax him in for another kiss. You whimper into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours like a heat-seeking missile, teeth breaking the thin skin of your lower lip. Pearls of crimson trickle onto his tongue, fusing lust with hunger — all for you.

Dwayne didn’t stop, showing no signs of stopping as he fucked the both of you through an orgasm, painting your cunt in hot ropes of seed. He doesn’t pull out, a sensation that the two of you feed off of. If it weren’t for his vampirism, you’d be round with his children — the fantasy would continue to linger on for as long as he pleased.

“Shit, Mama,” Dwayne’s strained baritone sends shivers throughout your body. He rarely talks during sex, and this felt like a treat as he continued to thrust into you, feeling your nails dig angry crescents into his shoulder. He groans, savoring the feeling of your constant tugging on his mane of dark tresses. “You’re perfect.” His voice tapered off into a possessive growl.

You want to scream, a raging fire surging throughout your body before it finally comes to an end, extinguished by Dwayne’s rough rutting. He could’ve kept it up, continued all night long with his cock stuffed inside of you, but humanity was both a blessing and a curse. Your thighs shook underneath his grasp, and he began to slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

His hand left behind a searing brand around your throat — whether or not the imprints are visible, it’s the sensation that refuses to leave. Your windpipe feels a little sore, but it’s a pleasant burn as he comes to a crawl, nestling his forehead against yours.

The excitement and blissful thrill of the moment steadily begins to fade, composure replacing a very heavy lust. Your heart thrums beneath your breast, beginning to crawl to a more uniform beat as you nudge forward, kissing Dwayne again. Your lips are swollen, split down the middle with a patch of dried cruor.

Dwayne’s exhale of relaxation comes after, and the tension within his body unfurls. He kept himself inside of you still, feeling your poor cunt clench around his cock when he adjusted his position. His kiss is astoundingly tender this time around, able to taste the pang of copper upon your lip, accompanied by your natural sweetness.

A sense of euphoria overwhelms you, body feeling wonderfully heavy as Dwayne peppered kisses all along your jaw and collarbone. “You alright?” He murmured, making sure that he hadn’t pushed the limit with you. It was easy to become lost in the moment, forget about your humanity.

You nodded, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, resting his head against your stomach, arms encircling themselves around you. “Better than alright,” You mused, tracing your fingers throughout his hair. “You think Paul will mind that we borrowed his stereo?” Laughter burst forth from your mouth.

A bemused huff escaped Dwayne as he reached over with one muscled arm, hitting the ‘NEXT’ track on the boombox. He pulled you close, nose wrinkling in disdain as Drive by The Cars came on — it wasn’t exactly his taste in music.

“Like you said,” He rumbled, peering up at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His arms effortlessly tugged you down to his level, lips twitching into a faint smirk, rare for Dwayne yet mesmerizing all the same. His mouth brushed above yours. “Joint custody.”

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #tlb dwayne x reader #dwayne tlb x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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youremyheaven · 20 days

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Vedic Astrology Observations

1. Punarvasus tend to be very spiritual if not religious. They find peace in prayer. Another thing I've noticed is that they are very sexually conservative (probably because of their cat yoni). Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon was a virgin when she married her first husband and waited until marriage to be intimate with her second husband as well. She was engaged to James Packer for 18 months and they reportedly never had a physical relationship.

Miranda Kerr, Punarvasu Moon was in a relationship with Evan Spiegel for 3 years and waited until marriage. Drew Barrymore, Punarvasu Moon has said that she's been celibate since her divorce in 2016.

2. Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon speaking of the nature of light & time , her memoir has multiple chapters titled with light-related names and even sooo many of her songs , including Butterfly (Punarvasus are connected to butterflies)

3. Moksha gana nakshatras embody the trickster archetype. They also often argue or provoke people simply for the heck of it. 2/3 Moon ruled naks (Rohini & Hasta) are Moksha gana and it makes sense as to why they fuck with people just because they can, they have nothing to gain from it and it serves no purpose, they're evil for the heck of it. They'll go to any length to ruin you even if they ruin themselves in the process.

Moksha means liberation in Sanskrit (Sanskrit is a classical language like Latin that is pretty much only used in a scholarly context) and is one of 4 purusharthas or motivations assigned to the 27 naks. The others are artha (wealth) kama (pleasure) and dharma (duty). Moksha would be located at the very top of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, which means an individual with Moksha gana naks has transcended all the other base level motivations of accumulating wealth, seeking pleasure and doing one's duty. What is left to do now? If an individual is evolved, they actually seek liberation through their spirituality but if they are not, not only are they unbothered by any ordinary human motives, they lack the ability to devote themselves to anything ordinary because they simply dont care about getting a job or building a house or whatever. this means they also kind of exist beyond normal social norms?? go up against a Moksha gana native/Moon dominant person and the kind of arguments they'll use against you will reveal this nature of theirs. like they will have zero issue using your every vulnerability and insecurity against you just to win an argument or put you down. they hate to look "weak" so they will tear you apart just because they can, with no regard for any history you share. there are people who defend this by saying "oh well i was mad" babygirl everybody gets mad, but if someone isnt raising their voice, being petty or singling you out and bringing up your past to make you crumble, its not because they're incapable of it, its because they have principles.

Moksha gana naks love to play devil's advocate.

4. Rahuvians have bad memory, they probably repeat the same stories in different ways every few weeks lol

5. Saturnian women often marry billionaires according to Claire Nakti and I recently found some more examples of that:

** Mariah Carey, UBP Sun was engaged to Australian billionaire, James Packer who used to date Miranda Kerr, Pushya Rising (both these women are also Punarvasu Moon), Miranda is now married to the CEO of Snapchat.

** Lisa Manobal, UBP Sun is dating Frederic Arnault, a French billionaire

** Elle Macpherson, UBP Sun was in a relationship with Arpad Busson with whom she had 2 kids (he's not a billionaire but he does have a net worth of $500 million)

6. Nominative determinism, literally "name-driven outcome", is the hypothesis that people tend to gravitate towards areas of work that reflect their names.

but i thought i'd use it in the context of astrology and how most people are subconsciously given names that reflect their nakshatras

ex: Angelina Jolie

the name Angelina is an expansion of Angela which is derived from the Greek word Angelos which means "Angel" or "messenger". Angelina has Revati Moon which is a deva ("godly" nakshatra) and Jolie is the French word for "pretty" and Angelina has Venus in 1h and is Pushya Rising (these were two of the biggest beauty indicators according to Claire's research)

(its so cute to me that her name is literally Angel Pretty bc damn right she is)

Yara Shahidi (Revati Moon)- Yara is the name of a water spirit and in Portuguese it means "Water lady" (Yara has stated that her name means one who is close to your heart, but names can have several different meanings) and Shahidi means "witness" in Persian. I feel like all of that really ties together with Revati being in pisces rashi and the last nakshatra that is "witness" to everything else etc

#astrology notes #sidereal astrology #astrology observations #vedic astro notes #nakshatras #astro notes #astrology #vedic astrology #astroblr #astro observations #astro community #12h #jyotish #pisces #punarvasu

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greengableslover · 8 months

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If it is a clear mind you seek, Brother, I may know how to help. Worldly travelers use it as a way to open their minds and transcend ordinary anxieties. It only takes the smallest of doses to feel the effects.

BRIDGERTON (2020) | s02 ep03 'A BEE IN YOUR BONNET'

#bridgerton #perioddramaedit #bridgertonedit #benedictbridgertonedit #tvedit #netflixedit #userbennet #tuserbea #userzil #userpavlova #userperioddrama #userseeleybooth #tusereliza #benedict bridgerton #luke thompson #*bridgerton #*

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rainybubbles · 7 months

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Which love tropes are COD men ?

Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Price, Alejandro,Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )

G H O S T :

Right person, wrong time

-It was an ordinary encounter, perhaps in a quaint grocery store or a bakery.

-He, a familiar face, gradually wove himself into your routine.

-Initially, only glances were exchanged : your curiosity met with his suspicion.

-But as time flowed, recognition blossomed, evolving into a delicate dance of shared secrets.

-There were playful glances.

-Some to mock this harsh client, some to exchange silent greetings, and at times some to secretly admire one other.

-There were also your doodling on his napkins when you gave him his pastries or pieces of bread.

-At first he remained oblivious, but over time, these doodles found a place in his home.

-Secretly kept in a box.

-It became an intimacy that defied words.

-Slowly the spark between you melted his ice barriers.

-The reason Simon were a regular or even in your country, was a year-long leave- a medical hiatus, owing to a wounded leg.

-Anger and fear consumed him upon hearing this news.

-Work was a means to escape the looming solitude within, it allowed him to not think

-Thus, he stumbled upon your bakery, where the comforting scent of freshly baked cookies invoked nostalgia, but of a sweet, rather than bitter kind.

-It reminded him of his mother.

-One year.

-The realization struck when he noticed your pastries were now baked within the walls of his own

kitchen, and your fragrance clung to his clothes, no longer limited to your bakery.

-At that moment, he made a decision.

-Because he knew he would not settle in here.

-He would not live here or stay here.

-And he knew he could not contact you again.

-And he couldn't bear to ask you to wait for him, knowing he might never return alive.

-So one fateful day when you saw him walking perfectly fine, you understood.

-He was healed. A year had passed.

-You stood so close that your lips nearly brushed against each other.

-On the verge of a kiss, he whispered softly "goodbye" instead of "I love you", as if the fact to not pronounce it could erase your feelings with time.

-Yet, in the years that followed, both of you wondered "what if we had dared that kiss ?".

-Right person, wrong time.

G A Z

Friends to lovers

-You both shared a profound friendship.

-During this friendship, you harbored a silent infatuation for Gaz, but you never acted upon it; it ebbed away gradually.

-It all began on a mundane summer night.

-Conversing upon unassuming plastic chairs, the balmy summer night caressing you, and laughter exchanged, you both reveled in the moment.

-Unexpectedly, Gaz felt a gentle warmth, briefly mistaking it for a passing delight, he didn't grant it much thought.

-Months later, in a dimly lit bar with the 141, Soap regaled the group with his comical misadventure- a disastrous date with a man convinced he was a vampire, who attempted to bite his ear. Amid the laughter, he posed a question, "Who is your ideal date?"

-"Myself," Ghost replied.

-Gaz and Soap chuckled.

-"You're a cocky bastard, L.T,." Soap said.

"Just confident Sergeant."

-"I'll choose Beyoncé or Donald Glover," Soap declared.

-Gaz grinned and was about to select a celebrity too, but he halted himself when your image was the only one that filled his mind.

-He parted his lips and fabricated an excuse before excusing himself for some fresh air.

-Perhaps he was intoxicated.

-Yes.

-Why would he... why would he divulge such feelings when you had been friends for years...

-He contemplated how at ease he was in your presence.

-How you supported him through the darkest days of his PTSD during his leaves.

-How you delved into the intricacies of PTSD, your fervor for your hobbies, and the way your smile etched a subtle crease on your cheek.

-How... how it transcended platonic boundaries.

-He retrieved his phone, prepared to send you a message.

-But fear seized him.

-Then he sighed. He was a soldier, a valiant man, prepared to wage war even in matters of the heart.

-He sent a message.

-And deleted it.

-And sent it once more before locking his phone and returning to the teal ambiance of the bar.

-When he settled back in his seat, Price wore a knowing smirk.

-"It was about time, son," Price smiled."

S O A P :

Unrequited love

-Soap was akin to a radiant sun, drawing people into his orbit effortlessly.

-Gazing upon him unveiled an entire solar system, one that included the 141, his beloved family, and a constellation of friends, all revolving around him like celestial bodies.

- It was as though every shared moment had forged an invisible gravitational pull, igniting a constellation of emotions within your heart.

-The magic lay in the details-how he remembered your favorite song and serenaded you in his car, never allowing his gaze to wander from yours.

- He ensured your seamless integration into the group, an attentive listener in moments when you believed no one else was.

-His smile, an ethereal response to your mere mention, bespoke the devotion he held for you.

-Thoughtful gifts crafted solely for you, tender touches, and sincere compliments on your attire, each detail etched itself into your soul.

-You believed in the possibility, for the very first time, of experiencing love's tender embrace.

-It was a sublime euphoria.

- Then, as suddenly as a meteor strike, reality set in Soap had found love elsewhere.

-At first, bitterness filled your heart.

-You wondered if there was a chance, a missed moment... Yet, he had another partner, then another, and another, and another.

-But never you.

-You recognized your own selfishness.

-In a lifetime of wanting nothing, you yearned for his affection now. Tears welled in your eyes. Then, a text arrived.

-He shared news of a successful date. As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror after reading his message, a smile tinged with tears danced upon your lips.

-You understood that your feelings were your burden to bear, not his. Despite the agony it brought, you genuinely celebrated his happiness.

-With a sigh, you locked your phone, only to feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I know, love. Come here," whispered a voice.

-You found Gaz.

-You sobbed in his arms when you recognized his glance.

-His glance was the same as yours: an unrequited love

-"I'm sorry, Gaz."

-"It's okay."

-"I'm sorry, I wish..."

-"Don't finish that sentence," Gaz gently admonished.

-Soap resembled the sun, but you had forgotten that drawing too near to the sun could result in burning.

P R I C E :

First love

-Not his first lover, but unquestionably his first love.

-During high school, Price embodied the quintessential sportsman, often hailed as the golden boy.

-He was orchestrating a fundraising endeavor for the grand ball when a cacophony of voices reached his ears from an empty classroom.

-It was your partner who had left you in the lurch, callously disregarding your feelings.

-Your partner had callously remarked how he was fully aware that you lacked alternative companionship.

-And he took perverse pride in this knowledge, exploiting your social anxiety, knowing you wouldn't dare to present yourself alone at the ball.

-As this asshole exited, you crossed paths with Price.

-You nodded your head in acknowledgment, you extended your assistance upon noticing Price's dedication to decorating the ball. His acceptance was unspoken yet understood. Moments passed.

-"Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room ?" you inquired.

-"Why should we? It was evident he would ditch me. I only asked him because I didn't want to go alone. I... was just hoping that he could endure my presence until the ball."

-"Well, if you seek a partner for the ball, I happen to know a certain sportsman who is kinda handsome " Price joked, clearly referring to himself. Your laughter echoed through the room.

-"Thank you, but there's no need. Just helping with the decorations allows me to feel involved. Besides, I'd likely faint amidst the crowd and festivities," you confessed. Price nodded, his understanding unspoken but profound.

-Yet, every evening after school, he would find you, ostensibly seeking your assistance with the decorations.

-Initially, you took it at face value, only to realize that Price had a deeper motive when he requested your help in crafting delicate paper flowers, while you knew there were already real flowers for the big day.

- It became apparent that Price had orchestrated this ruse to enable you to savor the ball in your own way.

-The bond between you grew stronger.

-Through strokes of paint, collaborative DIY projects, and shared tasks, your afternoons transformed into cherished moments.

-In your final session before the ball, you thanked him.

-Price smiled.

- Then he went to the ball with the girl he promised to go with.

- The night was enchanting.

- However, at the stroke of 2 AM, a gentle rap on your door interrupted your dreams, as Price stood there, asking you to dance in your garden, so you would not faint because of the crowd.

- You laughed and told him it was too dark and you were in pajamas.

- But he just smiled and said he could dance in your room to some Lou Reed vinyl.

-And so, you danced, clad in pajamas, in the intimate confines of your room. A shared kiss sealed the night.

-Your relationship spanned two beautiful years.

-When Price enlisted, he ardently desired to maintain your connection.

-But you didn't want it.

-You knew you couldn't keep a long-distance relationship.

-Thus, you chose to part ways, preserving your shared memories.

-To this day, Price keeps a paper flower, a symbol of your connection, beside a photograph of the 141 on his office desk.

-Whenever "Walk on the Wild Side" graces his ears, a nostalgic smile graces his face.

-Oh, how he yearns for the bygone days.

A L E J A N D R O

Second chance

-In the whirlwind of a bitter and hasty love affair, communication had faltered, leaving you forever in the shadow of Valeria.

-Her name echoed incessantly, revealing the less flattering facets of your character.

- You had never thought of yourself as a jealous person, but this situation had brought forth that dormant emotion.

-The realization that you no longer recognized the person you had become, coupled with the painful understanding that Alejandro's love was not returned as you had wished, led to a painful breakup.

-The break-up was far from clean; it left a trail of emotional wreckage in its wake.

-However, in Las Almas, gossip spread like wildfire.

- Years later, in a new school in Las Almas, fate reunited you with Alejandro.

-He wasted no time in offering a sincere apology the moment he recognized you as the teacher.

-He confessed that during your past relationship, his heart still clung to Valeria, though he had only recently ended that idea.

- He knew he could never return to her, and he had come to accept this truth. You nodded, uncertain of what more there was to say.

-As the days went by, children inquired about Alejandro's work whenever they spotted his gear.

- Uncertain about how to proceed, you took a chance and asked if he could stay.

-A warm smile graced his lips, and slowly, after finishing his patrols or shifts at the base, he began to visit the school to lend you a hand. He always carried sweets in his pocket to spoil the children of Las Almas.

-In this closeness, Alejandro began to discover the remarkable person you were.

-Of course, you had always been extraordinary, but he had never truly taken the time to explore the finer details of your character, to uncover the nuances that made you unique.

-He had admired you before, but now he was certain that he loved you.

-He willingly offered his assistance in preparing your classes, often took charge in the kitchen, and eventually mustered the courage to ask you out on a date.

- Your response was hesitant; you weren't entirely convinced or ready to rekindle the past. He simply smiled and assured you that it didn't matter. He would stay by your side.

-A year later he was still here.

-You eventually agreed to that one date, though you insisted it wouldn't signify much.

-Yet, one date led to two, and then three, and soon, a multitude of shared moments. Alejandro was ready to release his grip on the past, for he saw a brilliant future ahead with you.

R U D Y

Slow burn

-He had always harbored deep affection for you, yet he refrained from taking action due to your existing relationship.

-However, the magnetic chemistry between you two proved impossible to extinguish.

-When you found yourself single once more, he stood by your side to mend your broken heart.

-During your dates with other people, Alejandro would sigh, exclaim, and even wager with Rudy's mom.

-With each passing year, Alejandro's wallet grew emptier as he found himself increasingly indebted to Rudy's mom.

-Rudy was someone who was confident, but he hesitated to initiate, feeling unworthy.

-The trust and friendship you shared were truly precious to him.

-Despite the flirtations, tender touches, whispered endearments, and warm embraces, it seemed both of you were hesitant to immerse yourselves fully in your love for one another.

-Several years after your initial encounters, following a demanding and challenging mission, Rudy reached his breaking point.

- Pulsing with adrenaline and weariness coursing through his muscles, he instinctively made his way to your residence.

- As you opened the door, a radiant smile graced your face.

- "It was about time, Rudy," you remarked.

- And with that, he kissed you passionately, the door slamming shut as your garments gracefully found their way to the floor.

K E E G A N

Neighbor next door

-A flooding breached your common wall, necessitating a decision to share his bathroom with you, given that yours lay in disrepair.

- It marked the beginning of your mutual acquaintance, for you both were individuals who seldom engaged with other neighbors.

-Following this event, the elevator became a stage for exchanged smiles.

- Whenever he spied you struggling with groceries, he would gallantly come to your aid.

- You, in turn, brightened his door with thoughtful notes, a balm to soothe the weariness stemming from his deployments.

-Laughter echoed through the hallways after you collaborated on a playful prank targeting your cantankerous neighbor.

-It was a bond forged without the need for spoken words, a silent understanding that linked you both.

-Gradually, two keys melded into one, opening the door to a new chapter in your shared sanctuary.

_____

I also thought about

Konig : childhood friends to lovers.

And Alejandro : ennemies to lovers.

And Ghost with a fake pretend relationship because of his trust issues, I think it could be one of the way for him to open up slowly and safely in his mind.

If you want more : COD masterlist

My masterlist

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy x reader #keegan russ x reader

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bihanarms · 8 months

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Unveiled Passion (Johnny Cage x Fem!Reader OS)

sum up: okay, I just watched 'Crazy, Stupid, Love,' and as I was observing how Ryan Gosling was with Emma Stone, I couldn't stop myself from picturing Johnny as him. So, it's inspired by the movie, sweeties! Hope you'll like it :p

warnings: mention of smut but not explicit

Damn, I'm so tired..

Exhaustion weighed heavily on (Y/N) like a burden, every step she took in her apartment felt laborious. The day had been a succession of intense battles, vicious attacks, and precise maneuvers alongside Liu Kang and the other champions he had gathered. Since the day he had knocked on her door with that determined gleam in his eyes, her life had taken an irrevocable turn.

The apartment provided an oasis of tranquility amidst the chaos of their mission. She dropped her weapons bag with a sigh of relief onto the couch. Each joint seemed to protest as her body reminded her of the countless blows she had endured to protect the realms. The soft glow of the lamps cast a soothing light around the room, creating a comforting ambiance.

(Y/N)'s steady breath blended with the apartment's silence. Ever since she had joined the god of fire and the other champions, moments of quiet had become rare. But despite the overwhelming fatigue, a profound sense of satisfaction lingered within her. She recalled how she had hidden her powers for years, working in a mundane office, leading a life that seemed ordinary on the surface. And now, here she was, a fighter in an epic battle to save the realms.

She had found a family among these champions, a unity forged in the fires of fierce battles and the sharing of colossal burdens. She had established quite good relationships with each of them, sensing extraordinary souls within them, and that was true even for someone like Johnny Cage for exemple.

And, it hasn't always been the case, his arrogance and oversized ego had tested (Y/N)'s patience more than once. A weary sigh escaped her lips as she reminisced about their past interactions, a hint of frustration evident in her gaze, now heavy with fatigue. Despite the transcendent stakes of their mission, Johnny always found a way to tease and provoke, as if perpetually playing his own role in an action movie. His persistent attempts to flirt, accompanied by clichéd and crude phrases, had become a predictable routine.

She had known him from before all this, as they were both from Earthrealm. He was a well-known actor she had seen on television many times before the current events. He exuded undeniable charm, and she couldn't deny that, but his way of being... God. And since they had been brought together by Liu Kang and she had met him in person, she had discovered that he was the same man in real life as he was on television. So despite his appealing physique, she wondered how he could attract so many women with such a cheesy personality.

But, as mentioned earlier, she had come to appreciate everyone, including him, and well to be honest, that had happened just a few days ago. Something truly strange had unfolded between them during a mission. Beyond the intense battle she had fought, Johnny had saved her when she was on the brink of imminent death, throwing himself in front of the enemy to shield her. It was an entirely ordinary act of camaraderie in their shared struggle, but what had followed had disrupted the equilibrium of her feelings.

When he had approached her while she lay on the ground, whispering, Thank God, I was so afraid of losing you, He had said those words with an unexpectedly sincere tone. It wasn't one of his usual charming lines he tossed around at regular intervals, nor was it one of his arrogant provocations. His tone had been laden with genuine concern, his gaze expressing an unusual sincerity. She had never heard him speak to her in this manner before.

And since that day, a new side of Johnny Cage had revealed itself to her, causing a deep disturbance within her. The question swirled in her mind: was she attracted to him? The notion was hard to digest. How could she, in the span of a day, a split second, due to a simple gaze, undergo such a transformation in her feelings towards him?

Not to mention that over the past few days, even the most insignificant jokes that escaped Johnny's lips managed to draw a smile on (Y/N)'s face. And he couldn't overlook this phenomenon. He had started teasing her more, throwing jabs more frequently, a behavior that caught her off guard. She relished in this playful interaction more than she would admit, even to herself. It was a feeling she secretly loathed cherishing.

That evening, he even had the audacity to invite her out to a bar, suggesting they should "relax for a moment, just the two of them." His words had struck a chord, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. When he made the proposition, she felt her heart race, but she masked her unease by raising her chin and appraising him from head to toe, adopting a semi-stern tone.

"Come with me tonight, (Y/N), it's going to be fun," he had said, a taunting smirk on his lips.

"No, sir, I'm not really the type to go out, especially not by your side," she retorted, although deep within herself, she secretly wished to say yes.

He had countered playfully, "You're lying to yourself, my dear. Well, too bad for you, I'll send you a picture anyway so you can see what you're missing!" accompanied by a mischievous wink.

"Whatever..."

Why had she turned down his invitation, even though deep down, a part of her wanted to accept? Simply because she still wasn't ready to admit that she might be attracted to him. Moreover, a glimmer of fear crept in whenever she considered the possibility of emotionally engaging with such a charming man, a true heartbreaker.

Bip

The shrill sound of the phone abruptly interrupted the apartment's tranquility. Who could it be at this hour? Let me be...

Her pulse quickened as she saw the message display on the screen: a message from Johnny Cage. A part of her had anticipated that he would be behind this unexpected interruption. She unlocked the phone and read the words typed by his teasing hand:

"You're missing out on a hell of a night, babe."

A mixture of exasperation and amusement tickled her nerves. With agile fingers, she opened the photo attached to the message. Of course, it was him, always true to his signature sunglasses, his face sporting a wide grin as his right hand proudly displayed a middle finger. That stupid man... A smile crept onto the young woman's lips, but it quickly faded when she noticed two female silhouettes in the background. Two women, dressed in form-fitting dresses, their charms on display... they were absolutely stunning.

A sharp pang formed in her belly. Wait, am I jealous? She was surprised by her own mind's instinctive reaction. But the truth lay there, lurking in the corner of her consciousness. She couldn't deny the jealousy that had awakened within her. The mental image of Johnny charming these women, his cliché-laden pickup lines making them laugh, them succumbing to his charm with disconcerting ease, all of it swirled in her mind.

Bip

A new message, this time from Johnny. Meet me at Angel Share, 5 Second Street, in case you change your mind.

A deep sigh escaped her lips. Damn right, I'm going to change my mind, you'll see. With determined steps, she headed to her wardrobe, picking an elegant dress and a matching pair of heels. She had decided to brush off all this inner confusion, to enjoy the evening, whether she wanted to or not. With one final check in the mirror, she left her apartment, ready to face what awaited her.

"And that's how I saved the world, ladies!"

A mixture of joyful laughter erupted from the two blondes sharing a table with the actor. Compliments followed:

"Wow, you're truly amazing, Johnny..."

"I know, sweetheart, I know..." he concluded, punctuating his words with a playful wink. The music was in full swing, the walls of the bar vibrating to the rhythm of upbeat sounds. People danced, laughed heartily, and the atmosphere was at its peak. An exhilarating feeling electrified the air, infusing each of the participants.

Suddenly, the entrance door swung open forcefully, revealing a tall figure. The newcomer's eyes immediately fixed on the international cinema star, Johnny Cage. Intrigued by the noise and movement, Johnny swiftly turned towards the source of disruption. Between the effects of alcohol and the distance, he struggled to discern who stood at the club's entrance. However, the silhouette was approaching rapidly, and in an instinctive move, he removed his sunglasses to see more clearly.

"(Y/N!)" he exclaimed with joy, "I knew you couldn't resist the urge to come to me—"

"Shut your dumb mouth, Cage."

Without hesitation, (Y/N) took Johnny's face in her hands and pressed her lips against his in a passionate kiss. This audacity caught Johnny off guard, his eyes widening momentarily.

However, his surprise didn't last, as he soon responded to the kiss with growing intensity. His hands slid from (Y/N)'s face down to the small of her back, pulling her closer to his own body.

A thrill of electricity ran down (Y/N)'s spine as Johnny deepened the kiss. Their lips danced in an intoxicating rhythm, forging a sensory connection between them. The curious glances and murmurs of surprise among the other patrons seemed distant as they got lost in this exchange.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths mingling, Johnny's mischievous smile bore a different glint, one that was softer, more genuine. (Y/N) gazed at him, revealing a vulnerability she hadn't anticipated.

"I think you should take me to your place."

"Uh, yeah... yeah, I think you're right, let's do that."

Once at Johnny's, the atmosphere subtly changed. A grand mansion that was clearly comfortable, imbued with a laid-back ambiance, and all these items? Damn, he even had a pool in his living room. (Y/N) looked around, absorbing the details of the place while trying to gather her thoughts. Johnny, on the other hand, had gone straight to the bar, determined to create a pause in the buzz that had arisen.

"So," he said with a teasing smile, "how about a few cocktails to start?"

(Y/N) nodded, feeling that it was exactly what she needed. Johnny got to work, skillfully mixing the ingredients with an ease that suggested he had done this more than once. Soon, two colorful glasses were placed in front of them. The young woman appeared much more nervous and less self-assured now that she was alone with her comrade in arms.

"Here you go, beautiful," he declared, handing her the glass.

They clinked glasses, their gazes briefly meeting before their lips touched the edge of the glasses.

(Y/N) quickly felt the warmth of the cocktail slide into her veins. She could feel the tensions easing, her mind gradually relaxing. As she took another sip, she could sense Johnny's gaze on her, silently observing her with curiosity.

Without hesitation, she lifted her glass and downed it in one go. Johnny's expression shifted from amusement to surprise, though he forced himself to maintain an impassive demeanor.

"That, my dear, is what I call a good start," he commented with a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, are you going to give me some explanations?"

"Explanations about what?" (Y/N) replied, her voice slightly nervous.

A teasing smile danced on his lips. "I think you know very well, sweetheart, or do I have to draw you a diagram of how you threw yourself at me a few minutes ago?" he retorted, a mix of mischief and challenge in his gaze.

She let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks slightly flushed. "I didn't exactly 'throw myself' at you," she said, trying to regain her composure despite her nervousness.

Johnny approached her with confident and assured steps. A playful smile still lingered on his face. "Hm, really?" he quipped with a teasing tone.

The young woman instinctively took a few steps back, her eyes sparkling with both amusement and nervousness. Then, she took a deep breath and began to speak, slightly stuttering but determined. "Okay, I know I seemed very confident at the bar when I rushed over to kiss you, but now that we're alone, I'm much more nervous about the idea of sleeping with you."

Johnny's smile slightly faded at her words. "Sleeping with me?" he repeated, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Who said we were going to sleep together?" He looked at her for a moment, then a light chuckle escaped his lips.

"Oh, come on, I know very well!" she exclaimed playfully, feeling the effects of alcohol allowing her to speak her mind freely. "Isn't that what you do with all those girls? You bring them home, have a few cocktails, and end up sleeping together in the pool, for instance?"

Johnny blinked, surprised by (Y/N)'s audacious remark. Then, he let out a genuine laugh, evidently appreciating her straightforwardness. "Well, yes, if that's what you want but-" he was about to say, but was abruptly cut off by (Y/N)'s assured and determined voice.

"Take off your shirt."

His eyebrows raised slightly in a mix of surprise and amusement as she didn't seem to shy away from anything, and her proposition was quite unexpected. He stared at her for a moment, unsure of what he should do.

"What? Seriously, just out of the blue like that?" he asked, a teasing smile still playing on his lips.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, her determined tone showing that she was set on seeing this through.

Johnny chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Well, you're not afraid to speak your mind, that's for sure."

(Y/N) didn't back down, her captivating gaze still holding his. "I've always wanted to know if it's real or just Photoshop in your movies," she explained with a mischievous smile.

The actor looked at her, his eyes slightly widened, impressed by her audacity and carefree attitude. He hesitated for a moment, then with a theatrical shrug, he started unbuttoning his shirt, gradually revealing his tanned skin.

She fixed her gaze on every movement, her eyes lighting up with undeniable fascination. When he finally took off his shirt, revealing his chiseled muscles and athletic physique, she felt her breath catch slightly.

"Wow, is this for real?" she murmured, her voice filled with surprise and admiration.

A teasing laugh escaped Johnny's lips as he raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Do you want to touch to check?"

(Y/N) bit her lip, feeling her cheeks grow warmer. "No, I'm good," she replied with a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

He ran a hand through his hair, displaying a smirk. "Can I put my shirt back on?" he asked, slightly embarrassed and taken aback by the turn of events.

"No," she replied again without hesitation. "So, what's the next step?"

Johnny was caught off guard by this question, his confidence momentarily shaken. He was used to bringing women home, but it had never taken this turn before. His thoughts raced, looking for something to suggest that could match the moment.

Suddenly, (Y/N) had a mischievous smile. "I have an idea," she announced, taking Johnny by surprise. Before he could react, she lightly pushed him, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the pool.

The cold water seized him, the shock making him burst into laughter. He emerged from the water, shaking his head to get rid of the excess water. "Well, that was unexpected."

She laughed along, feeling the alcohol rise to her head but enjoying the effect it had on her. She didn't care about anything anymore, and no worries occupied her mind. She took a risk by pushing him into the water, but it seemed like the perfect thing to do in that moment.

Johnny spread his arms theatrically. "You managed to wet these super expensive pants I was wearing," he complained with a laugh.

(Y/N) teased him, raising an eyebrow. "Who cares? I'm sure you have enough money to buy 50 more like these," she replied before bursting into laughter again.

A playful smile stretched across the young man lips. "Well, since that's the case..." He suddenly stood up in the water, letting a cascade of water fall onto (Y/N) in the process.

She let out a small cry of surprise, but instead of getting angry, she burst into laughter, finding herself soaked from head to toe. The peals of laughter were contagious, filling the air with lightness and complicity.

Then, without further ado, she began to remove her top, revealing her bra underneath. Johnny's eyes slightly widened as he looked at her, marveling at the beauty of her body. Damn, this woman...

(Y/N) didn't seem to care that she was now in her underwear, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Without hesitation, she jumped into the water next to Johnny, splashing him once more.

But then the atmosphere suddenly changed as Johnny boldly approached the young woman, his gaze determined. As he neared her face, (Y/N) felt her heart begin to beat nervously again. Fuck, is he going to kiss me again ?

"It's okay, beautiful, let yourself go, don't overthink it," Johnny began in a soft voice, his hand gently gripping her arm to draw her closer to his body. His hands then slid to her hips, his grip firm but gentle. "Trust me, I know you want it as much as I do."

Charmed by Johnny's smooth voice, (Y/N) allowed herself to be swept away, getting lost in a kiss even more passionate than the previous one. Their lips met with a palpable intensity, their breaths mingling in the tension-filled air.

The kiss was scorching, filled with desire and curiosity, as if they were seeking to explore every corner of their mutual emotions. Their bodies seemed to naturally align, their hands wandering with growing confidence, exploring every contour and curve.

As their lips finally parted, (Y/N) gazed intensely at Johnny. "You also feel more than just a one-night stand thing, right? Be honest " she asked in a soft voice, laden with emotion.

Johnny got lost in (Y/N)'s eyes, feeling his own heart beating just as strongly. All his Hollywood-forged arrogance had disappeared at this moment as he lost himself in her sincere gaze. The atmosphere became much more serious, a palpable tension enveloping the room.

"Yes, sweatheart, don't be afraid, I feel it too," he replied calmly and authentically.

A smile of relief spread across (Y/N)'s face, doubts and worries seemingly dissipating. Johnny continued, his tone carrying a touching sincerity. "Now, come here."

They kissed again with renewed fervor, passion and desire merging in every movement of their lips. (Y/N) let her hands roam all over Johnny's body, exploring his skin and the feeling of his muscles beneath her fingers. Meanwhile, Johnny slowly lowered his hands, placing them on (Y/N)'s hips before sliding them down to gently grasp her ass cheeks.

Their bodies were close, each touch electrifying their skin and intensifying their mutual desire. They lost themselves in each other, their hands and lips communicating a multitude of emotions and sensations. The sexual tension between them was palpable, and as their hands ventured further, they knew that this night would be the beginning of a deep and passionate connection.

#mk1 2023 #mk1 #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1

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fiyaa-xoxo · 3 months

Text

Theres something different about receiving a handwritten letter......

✧˚ · .Spring has sprung as the NCR students walk through out the NRC campus. With spring here and the flowers blooming, and most important of all valentines day right around the corner. NRC launches lockers for students to anonymously give someone something for valentines day. Surprise, Surprise the prefects locker was the one with the most letters. Lets see what some of them wrote, will u find out who wrote what?....

From: A crimson flower...

My Crimson Rose,

In this whimsical realm where time dances to its own curious tune, I find myself enchanted by the notion of Happy Unbirthdays and the delightful chaos that ensues in the shadow of the Queen of Hearts. It is within this peculiar Wonderland that our paths have crossed, and my heart, typically bound by the rigidity of rules, has succumbed to the joyful mayhem of your presence.

Oh, how the tea parties unfold in blissful disorder, each cup raised in celebration of the nonsensical day that is every day but one! The Queen of Hearts, with her regal decree and whimsical demands, presides over these gatherings where laughter echoes like the most harmonious of melodies. In the mirthful company of jesters and creatures, our souls intertwine, and the rules of reality bow to the capricious whims of Wonderland.

As the Queen commands the cards to paint the roses red, I am reminded that the essence of love in this fantastical realm is as unpredictable as the ever-changing hues of Wonderland's flora. In the intricate dance of courtly affections, I find myself waltzing with you, my partner in this splendid, topsy-turvy masquerade.

From: An Inky Dealer...

And so, my heart, once bound by the rigid laws of reason, now surrenders to the whimsy of Wonderland and the joyful rebellion that accompanies it. With every unbirthday tea party we share, I am reminded that true happiness lies not in conformity but in the enchanting chaos of love.

To my Siren,

As the currents of fate weave through the whimsical waters of Twisted Wonderland, I find myself drawn to you like a siren's call echoing in the depths of the Monstro Lounge. In this ocean of magical mayhem, your presence is a beacon that lights up the darkest corners of my heart.

The glittering allure of Ursula's domain mirrors the shimmering depths of the feelings that swirl within me. Much like the ebb and flow of the tides, our connection resonates with a rhythm that transcends the ordinary cadence of everyday life.

In the enchanting embrace of the Monstro Lounge, where secrets are exchanged like treasures and laughter dances upon the waves of conversation, I am captivated by the spell you cast upon my existence. Ursula's wisdom echoes in the whispers of our shared moments, and I am reminded that love, much like the sea, holds depths yet to be explored.

So, let this letter be a testament to the enchantment you bring into my life, a tale woven with threads of magic and mystery. In the embrace of Ursula's sanctuary and the symphony of the Monstro Lounge, my heart finds its rhythm in harmony with yours.

From: The oasis in the hot sands...

Dear, sunshine

With the boundless energy of a desert breeze, my affection for you grows, and the tapestry of our shared moments becomes a mosaic of joy and laughter. Your smile, a treasure more precious than any gem in the sands, illuminates my world with unparalleled warmth.

In the vibrant oasis of love, I find solace in the melody of our shared laughter and the dance of our dreams under the twinkling stars. With each passing day, my heart beats in rhythm with the magic you bring into my life.

So, let this be a simple testament to the love that blossoms like a desert rose within my chest—a love as boundless as the endless sands of Twisted Wonderland.

From: A loyal knight

My dearest Everglow,

Amidst the tapestry of my own existence, I pledge my loyalty to you with the same unwavering devotion that I offer to the illustrious Malleus Draconia. To serve him is an honor, and in his guidance, my loyalty becomes an intricate dance—a choreography of duty and affection.

In this realm where loyalty is both a shield and a key, my heart beats with the rhythm of a promise made not just in service but in love. Your understanding gaze, a refuge in the labyrinth of obligations, is a testament to the deep connection that transcends the boundaries of duty.

So, let this be a tender acknowledgment of the magic that binds me to both my fae heritage and the loyalty I extend to you and Malleus—a love letter written with the ink of allegiance and sealed with the embrace of my heart.

Writers note: Hello everyone! Were u able to find out who's who? Let me know if u want more writings like this!

Requests are open!! ^^

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

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doormatty3 · 4 months

Text

Ocean Eyes: Chapter 2 (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands. You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour. After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue.

OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Wordcount: 5412

The car ride is short and comfortable, the rhythmic hum of the engine accompanying the shared silence between you and Orm.

As the landscape glides past, Orm’s gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, lost in contemplation. His hand rests firmly on your thigh, and his fingertips trace seemingly random patterns.

Arriving at the burger place near the ocean, you find yourself on a charming pier that extends gracefully over the water. It exudes a quaint and cosy charm, offering both indoor and outdoor seating. You have been here before and hope that Orm will also like it.

You leave the car and notice the bustling atmosphere, a lively mix of people enjoying the seaside ambience. Families, friends, and couples populate the area, creating a vibrant tapestry of seaside enjoyment.

As you lead Orm towards the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you can’t help but notice his gaze wandering, taking in the atmosphere. His eyes seem to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells, curious as if he’s never seen something like that.

A subtle feeling creeps in - that Orm appears somewhat out of place again. There’s something about him, a quality that sets him apart and makes him seem almost otherworldly. You find yourself unable to put your finger on precisely what it is. Still, it lingers in the periphery of your awareness like a gentle whisper of intrigue that tugs at your curiosity.

Perhaps it’s his regal demeanour or how he seems to observe the world with a depth that transcends the ordinary. You scold yourself inwardly to stop thinking about that - it’s probably nothing, only the quirks of a person adapting to unfamiliar surroundings.

As you reach the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you turn to Orm and ask, “Would you like to sit inside or outside?”

There’s a momentary pause, and he seems to grapple with the options as if the distinction between the two is a puzzle he’s attempting to solve for the first time.

Orm stammers slightly before responding, “Uh, outside, if that’s... if that’s fine with you.” His words carry a hint of uncertainty, as though he’s seeking your approval or guidance in navigating this seemingly simple choice.

“Sure. I like to sit at the water more anyway,” you smile at Orm and then turn to the waitress, “Table for two, please, outside if possible.”

The waitress nods, responding, “Yes, please follow me.”

She leads you through the lively pier and sits you at a charming table by the seaside, offering a nice view of the ocean that stretches before you.

As you and Orm settle into your seats, the waitress hands you the menu. With a polite smile, she inquires, “Any allergies?”

You shake your head in response and notice Orm appearing momentarily puzzled, as if the question threw him off again. Eventually, he follows suit and shakes his head.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Or do you already know what you want to drink?” the waitress asks, her friendly demeanour adding a pleasant touch to the dining experience.

“I’ll go with a coke,” you tell her with a smile. She nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Orm.

“Do you have Guinness?” he asks, his words flowing more fluently this time as if finding comfort in the familiarity of the beverage.

“Yes, sir, we do,” the waitress responds.

“Great, then I’ll take that,” Orm says with a decisive nod.

The waitress acknowledges the order with a nod of her own and then gracefully walks away, leaving you and Orm to view the menu.

You already know what you will be eating: a classic cheeseburger with extra bacon and hand-cut fries, So you cast your gaze to look at the sea, zoning out for a bit and losing yourself in the rhythmic movement of the water.

Orm’s voice interrupts your brief reverie, bringing you back to the present. “So, what’s your fascination with the ocean?” he inquires, his eyes fixed on you with genuine curiosity.

“Hm?” is your thoughtful response, a momentary delay as you process his question and look at him before answering, “I am a marine biologist - so it’s just everything for me.”

You cast your gaze at the sea again, watching the waves as you continue to speak, “For as long as I can remember, I have had a strong love and appreciation for the ocean - of the life beneath the surface, the ecosystem, the marine creatures.”

The sea breeze tousles your hair as you express your love for the sea.

“I think most of my fascination is with the unknown and the many misconceptions people have about the ocean and its inhabitants.” The reflection of the sunlight on the water mirrors the spark in your eyes and you pause for a short moment before continuing, “That they think some animals are just inherently evil. But we - as humans- could learn so much from the ocean if we would just listen .”

You scoff, a touch of frustration colours your voice as you continue, “But they don’t and continue to pollute the waters - kill the life beneath the surface. Destroy ecosystems.”

Your eyes find Orm’s again; he watches you intently, a glint in his eye that you haven’t seen before.

”That’s why I do what I do - to help them see. To help preserve life. There is so much that could be done, but many people don’t know how - and it’s my job to educate them.”

“That’s a noble profession, an honourable calling,” Orm remarks, his blue eyes warm and calm like the ocean void of wind, “But don’t you think it is in vain? Do you really think they can learn?”

“Yes,” your response is immediate and resolute, “No one is inherently evil. But a lot of people lack a sense of direction… And once shown, they adapt and do what they can to better themselves.”

You share a smile with Orm, sensing that he just understands what you mean.

The moment, however, is gently interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, gracefully bearing your drinks.

“Coca-Cola?” she asks, and you raise your hand, replying, “For me.”

She places the drinks in front of you before she speaks again, pen poised over her notepad, “What do you want to eat?”

“A cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries,” you declare, and Orm promptly seconds your choice. The waitress, a warm smile gracing her lips, takes note of your order and retreats.

Orm, with a thoughtful expression, breaks the silence. “You truly believe people can change, then?”

You meet his gaze, the sea breeze playing with your hair. “Absolutely,” you respond. “It’s not about convincing everyone at once. It’s about starting a ripple, making a difference where you can. Education and understanding can be powerful catalysts for change.”

Orm nods, his blue eyes reflecting both curiosity and agreement. “It sounds like you’re on a mission.”

A chuckle escapes you. “Perhaps. But it’s a mission worth undertaking, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Orm answers, a smile on his lips as he looks at you intensely, making you blush. He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “What led you to this path?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the question. “I suppose it was a childhood fascination with the sea. The mysteries it holds, the life beneath its surface. As I grew older, I realised the urgency of preserving that beauty, of correcting the misconceptions that threaten it.”

Orm listens attentively, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “It takes a special kind of dedication to devote your life to something so vast and, at times, misunderstood.”

“The ocean has a way of making you feel both small and connected. It’s a journey of discovery, and every day brings something new,” you tell him, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

You continue to talk, the sun beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over your conversation. The rays seem to elevate Orm’s features, and you can’t help but notice the way his straight nose and defined cheekbones are beautifully illuminated. His blonde hair, still sitting a bit tousled on his head, catches the sunlight and shines in the golden hues.

His blue eyes look impossibly deep in the light; it feels as if the vastness of the ocean is mirrored in his gaze, and you find yourself captivated by the shifting shades within his irises. You feel like if you concentrate enough, you could watch the sunset in them, and they would mirror the exact way the water looks right now – a harmonious blend of oranges, pinks, violets, and cerulean blues.

The waitress arrives with your much-anticipated meals, placing them on the table. Both of you express gratitude with a simultaneous “Thank you.”

You pick up your burger, the warmth radiating from it, and take a satisfying bite. As you savour the taste, you glance over at Orm, curious to see his reaction - if he likes the place you have chosen.

Orm approaches his meal with a hint of anticipation, taking a tentative bite from his burger. Watching him eat is mesmerising - he chews slowly and deliberately as he processes the combination of flavours. A drop of sauce finds its way to the corner of his lip, and with an unconscious grace, he catches it with his tongue.

You observe him nodding appreciatively, his brows lifting slightly in a silent gesture of approval. It’s as if he has just discovered a hidden treasure, and the delightful taste seems to resonate with him. Watching him eat makes you feel like he never had a burger because he looks so genuinely fascinated by it.

He is rather cute right now, and you like how he can be so regal and serious but also so sweet and goofy.

Choosing to shift your focus, you return to your own meal, eating a few fries.

In the corner of your eye, you notice a cockroach making its way across the table. Just as you prepare to intervene, your gaze shifts to Orm, who, in a swift and unexpected move, catches the intruder in his large hand, examining it with a curious expression.

A moment of concern sets in as Orm flexes his fingers, bringing the roach closer to his burger. You fear this might lead to a deadly consequence for the uninvited guest, that Orm may crush it.

Acting on impulse, you speak up, “Don’t kill it.”

Orm looks at you with a puzzled expression and stills in his motion with the roach still cradled in his hand. You take the opportunity to pluck the roach from his fingers gently. Bowing down, you release it onto the ground, allowing it to run away freely.

You find Orm still looking at you with curious eyes and feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks, you mumble, “I don’t like to kill insects, even if they’re annoying.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Respecting all forms of life, even the tiny ones. That’s commendable.”

“Yes, I mean, some of them at least have a use to the ecosystem, and some you can even eat. Both don’t apply to cockroaches though, sadly,” you elaborate under his intensive gaze.

Orm blinks a few times as if processing your words, and then he inquires, “I heard that cockroaches are something that is eaten.”

You shake your head, offering a slight grin, “Nah. Crickets and stuff, yes, but not cockroaches since they are known to carry and spread diseases.”

He gives you a tight-lipped grin, the expression not quite reaching his eyes as he takes another bite from his burger.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask him, a hint of concern in your voice - his reaction worries you.

His response is immediate as he lays down the burger and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “No. No. Not at all.” His blue eyes reflect sincerity and openness. “I was just caught off guard since I thought differently. But everything is fine.”

You smile, relieved by his reassurance, squeezing his hand slightly. “Thank you, Orm.”

As you both finish your meals in comfortable silence, the lighting on the pier gradually comes to life, and they begin to flicker one after another, creating a gentle, welcoming ambience.

It casts a subtle radiance on Orm’s features, the regal quality becoming more pronounced as the gentle play of shadows enhances the lines of his face.

Orm’s gaze wanders, absorbing the evolving spectacle of lights around the pier. His eyes, reflecting the warm glow, sweep across the surroundings, capturing the flickering bulbs, the gentle sway of boats, and the distant outlines of structures bathed in the soft radiance of the evening.

A subtle appreciation plays on his features as he takes in the scene, and you find yourself captivated by the way his eyes navigate the transformed pier.

The waitress returns to your table, a friendly smile on her face as she collects the empty plates. She glances at both of you. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

Your eyes meet Orm’s briefly, and then you turn back to the waitress, “No, thank you. Just the bill, please.”

With a nod, the waitress acknowledges your request, “Alright, I’ll bring that right over.” She takes the empty plates and heads back toward the bustling interior of the restaurant.

The waitress returns with the bill, a small leather folder clasped in her hand. Opening it to reveal the receipt, she glances between you and Orm, asking, “Will you be paying together, or should I split it?”

Before you can respond, Orm steps in, a subtle determination in his voice, “I’ll take care of it.”

You shoot him a grateful look but quickly add, “Orm, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, his eyes, intense and unwavering, meet yours.

A warmth settles in your chest at his insistence, and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks in response to his intensity.

The waitress informs him of the total cost, and Orm reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. The currency appears unfamiliar - distinctive, with intricate patterns and unique markings, causing both you and the waitress to exchange curious glances.

Breaking the momentary silence, the waitress gently informs Orm, “Sorry, we only accept dollars here, not foreign currency.”

An almost imperceptible furrow forms on Orm’s brow as he looks down at the money in his hand, and a moment of realisation dawns upon him. You can almost sense his internal struggle, caught between the unfamiliarity of the situation and the desire to settle the bill.

Without saying anything or making a huge deal, you smoothly reach into your wallet, pulling out enough dollars to cover the bill and a generous tip. With a friendly smile, you hand the money to the waitress.

“Have a good evening,” you add warmly, and the waitress reciprocates the sentiment. As she departs, you turn your attention back to Orm, offering an encouraging smile.

Orm’s eyes meet yours, appreciative yet carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” Orm says, a tinge of frustration and embarrassment evident in his voice. “I forgot about that.”

You respond with a reassuring smile, and without a second thought, you reach out, brushing your hand gently over his cheek. When you see the way his eyes widen a bit and he looks at you in wonder, you know that it was the right call.

“Oh, don’t worry, I get it,” you assure him, your fingers tracing the contours of his cheek, noting the texture of his stubble beneath your touch and the warmth he emanates. “You can get the next one,” you suggest, pulling back your hand.

Orm responds with a toothy smile, genuine and warm, the expression reaching all the way to his eyes.

You both get up and leave the restaurant to stroll along the pier, your hand brushing on Orms as you walk. Part of you would like to just take his hand - you have kissed, after all, but you’re not sure if that’s fine for him.

“So, by being from far away, you meant Europe then?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you as that was the first thing that came to mind.

Orm nods in agreement, and you decide not to press further, sensing his reluctance to delve into the topic.

The pier gradually becomes less crowded as you and Orm move towards its edge, and the rhythmic sound of the waves beneath grows louder in turn. The lights along the pier continue to illuminate the surroundings, creating a gentle glow that adds to the enchanting atmosphere.

The sky, now mainly adorned in shades of deep blue, cradles the last remnants of daylight along the horizon. A narrow strip of it retains a warm afterglow, casting the tranquil sea in a soft gleam.

You and Orm come to a halt as you reach the end of the pier, overlooking the water.

The sea reflects the transitioning sky, creating a mesmerising dance of colours on its surface. As the daylight wanes, the sea takes on a deep, mysterious navy blue, mirroring the vast expanse above. The rhythmic movements of the waves hold a subtle elegance, their crests catching the remnants of sunlight and transforming them into liquid silver.

The small ripples sparkle in the fading light, creating a celestial reflection that mirrors the ever-changing hues of the sky and the soft lights on the pier.

As you stand at the edge of the sea together, gazing out into the expansive ocean, Orm takes your hand - warm, large, and unexpectedly soft with his long fingers.

Reflecting on the day, you realise it has been unexpectedly beautiful - it still is. When you first met Orm on the beach, you couldn’t have anticipated this.

You have never met someone who shares the same profound love for the sea, but with him, it is a connection that flows effortlessly like a smooth, unhurried river.

Orm’s voice, quiet yet resonant, breaks the stillness. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes fixed on the ever-moving sea.

You turn to face him, your own expression reflecting curiosity. “For what?” you inquire, uncertain about the reason for his gratitude.

“For the day,” he responds, his gaze still tethered to the horizon. The soft glow of twilight illuminates his features, allowing you to trace the contours of his side profile with your eyes.

A genuine smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, unsure of how to respond.

The comfortable silence wraps around you, lingering for a moment before you gather the courage to break it.

“It doesn’t have to be over yet, you know,” you say, the words escaping your lips with a hint of nervous excitement.

Orm turns his head swiftly to face you, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you continue, feeling a bit breathless, “I think you’d like the aquarium I own.”

Your heart beats a bit faster because, oh god, you just invited Orm over to your place - handsome and a tad strange Orm, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

A warm smile graces Orm’s features as he nods in agreement. “Lead the way.”

______

Street lanterns and the soft glow of stars guide the way as you drive over the coastal road to your house.

As you approach, the one-story building comes into view, overlooking the ocean below, with stairs leading down to a dock, a garage for water vessels and the beach. Even in the dark, it is apparent that it is made from dark wood that harmonises with the natural surroundings.

“Well, here we are,” you say to Orm and turn off the engine after you park your car.

Both of you step out, and you watch as Orm takes in the details of your house.

“This is really nice,” he says, looking at you, a fondness in his blue eyes.

“Thank you,” you reply, smiling. “Wait until you see the inside.”

With that, you lead the way to the door, unlocking it to welcome both of you inside. Turning on the lights, you close the door behind Orm before taking off your shoes.

You notice a brief moment of confusion on Orm’s face, his brows furrowed as if he’s perplexed by the act of removing shoes indoors. Nonetheless, he follows your example, mirroring your actions with a subtle curiosity.

You love your house, as it’s a reflection of who you are. The walls are adorned with various pictures and paintings, capturing scenic views and wildlife scenes. A massive windowfront facing the sea with garden furniture outside offers a serene spot for looking at the ocean. For rainy days, you have a cosy sofa perfectly positioned to enjoy the view.

Orm’s eyes wander around your home, curiosity evident in his gaze. They trace over the pictures, examining the various trinkets and charms that give your house its character. His gaze eventually settles on the highlight of your home - a huge aquarium that spans an entire wall.

When you built it, you decided upon those dimensions to allow for a diverse and thriving marine ecosystem.

As the overhead lights cast a gentle glow, the aquarium reveals a spectrum of colours and movements. Coral formations, in various shapes and hues, provide shelter for a multitude of fish. Small, darting figures in every shade imaginable navigate the intricate structure, their scales catching the light and creating a dazzling dance of colours. Seahorses, graceful and delicate, cling to the swaying fronds of seaweed.

The water, crystal clear and carefully maintained, magnifies the beauty of the inhabitants within. Anemones sway in the gentle current, and schools of fish move in unison, creating an ever-shifting symphony of aquatic life. It’s a tranquil yet lively spectacle that brings the wonders of the ocean directly into your home.

As Orm moves closer to the aquarium, his eyes fixate on the intricate details of the underwater world. The gentle hum of the water filter provides a soothing backdrop to the vibrant display. His gaze traces the contours of coral formations, follows the movements of fish, and lingers on the seahorses.

You watch as he leans in a bit as if drawn into the underwater realm. The overhead lights cast a subtle glow on his features. For a moment, the regal air about him softens, and you see a genuine sense of wonder in his eyes.

“Wow,” he says, his voice hushed in awe, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

You can’t help but smile as you respond, “I’m glad you like it.”

As you both stand there, watching the aquarium, you notice that the soft glow from it reflects in Orm’s eyes, creating a harmonious blend of colours.

“It’s like having a piece of the ocean at home,” you add, happy to share this with someone who appreciates it as much as you.

Orm slowly turns away from the mesmerising aquarium, his eyes still reflecting the underwater spectacle.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Orm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you closer. His blue eyes lock onto yours, searching for something in the depths of your gaze, and you swallow dryly.

Closing the distance, he leans in, and his kiss is soft and deliberate. Responding instinctively, your hands find their place on his strong shoulders, fingers tracing the contours of his well-defined muscles.

He hums pleased and deepens it, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer into his thick frame. You taste hints of the cheeseburger he enjoyed, the lingering notes of the beer he had, and something uniquely him that defies easy description but is absolutely delicious.

The warmth of Orm’s embrace envelops you, and his hands, initially gentle, now hold you with a firm and possessive grip. There’s an undeniable urgency in the way he pulls you closer as if trying to bridge any remaining distance.

He begins to trail a series of kisses down your neck, each touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. As he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, he pauses, sinking his teeth into your skin with a sharp intensity. A quiet hiss escapes your lips, and your grip on his shoulders tightens in response. Orm soothes the sensation with the caress of his tongue before resuming the journey upward, placing gentle kisses along the column of your throat and inhaling your scent.

“Orm,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently guiding his head back up to meet your lips in another kiss. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you can’t help but register how soft his hair feels beneath your touch.

Orm’s hands explore your body with heightened intensity, each touch sending a wave of heat through the fabric of your clothes.

When he pulls back, his breath comes out in heavy, rhythmic waves. His hair is already tousled from your fingers running through it, and his eyes, fiery blue, reflect the intensity of the moment, while his lips bear the deliciously pinkened evidence of your shared kisses.

Breaking the silence, Orm speaks with a low and surprisingly severe voice, “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” His gaze shifts to the aquarium, and his expression suggests a genuine concern. “I’d rather not have spectators.”

A surprised chuckle escapes you as you realise Orm might actually be serious about the fish in the aquarium. You raise an eyebrow, playfully questioning, “Spectators, really?”

Orm nods with a solemn expression and a faint smirk, adding, “They’re judging eyes.”

You can’t help but burst into laughter again, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s get somewhere private, then.” You guide him towards the bedroom, wondering if the fish truly appreciate the unexpected concern for their modesty.

The fleeting thoughts quickly dissipate as Orm is on you again, his lips finding yours in a deep and fervent kiss before he buries his face in your neck, leaving wet kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Pressing against him, you feel the heat radiating from his body and the firmness of his muscles as well as his hard cock. You grind your hips harder on his groin, desperate for some friction and more of the electric spark that every touch from Orm seems to give you.

You physically feel him groan into your skin, a deep, feral sound that reverberates through his chest.

Suddenly, you feel frenzied to get him out of his clothes, to see him naked, to touch his skin. So you tuck on his shirt, pulling it upwards.

Orm, getting the hint, separates from you and takes it off, letting it fall to the floor.

Before you have time to appreciate his naked upper body, he lets his hands wander under the hem of your shirt to pull it off you, too - which you let him do without resistance.

Then, with a sudden and assertive move, Orm grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you towards the bed. The motion catches you off guard; the change in him is so quick that you don’t have time to react.

Orm’s mouth descends upon yours again, a cascade of passionate kisses and teasing nips at your lips as he bites down on your bottom lip before running his tongue over it.

As the back of your knees meets the edge of the bed, he pushes you down, and you find yourself lying on your back.

Finally, you have time to appreciate his form.

As Orm stands before you, the soft glow of the room’s dim light dances over the planes of his body, creating a mesmerising interplay of shadows and highlights.

Orm’s hair is tousled, a delightful disarray from your previous encounters and frames his face in a way that adds a hint of wildness to his regal appearance. The light dances on the strands, highlighting the varied shades of blonde.

His eyes, an intensely deep shade of blue, seem to capture the ambient light like the ocean capturing the moon’s glow. The fire within those eyes hasn’t diminished; if anything, it has intensified, turning them into pools of desire and unrestrained passion.

His physique, chiselled with remarkable precision, seems almost otherworldly in its perfection.

The defined lines of his muscles catch your attention, each one sculpted to perfection as if carven by a Greek master aeons ago. The play of shadows accentuates the curves of his arms, the contours of his chest, and the lines of his abdomen. Every movement he makes is a testament to the vigour and elegance that defines him.

Your eyes trace the contours of Orm’s arms. The sight of his substantial biceps commands your focus, the muscles rippling with strength and power. Your gaze follows the prominent vein that courses along the expanse of his arm, tracing its path down to his forearms.

The play of light and shadow accentuates every curve and crevice, revealing a level of physicality that borders on the divine.

The forearms subtly flex with each miniature movement, a testament to the latent strength within. Your gaze lingers on his hands, large and commanding, the fingers thick and long. There’s a certain elegance in the way those hands move, a grace that contradicts their sheer size and power.

Moving lower, your attention shifts to his defined chest that expands with each breath. You marvel at the expansive breadth of his pectoral muscles. The perfect symmetry of his six-pack draws your gaze, each abdominal muscle pronounced and sculpted.

Your focus descends even lower, and you see the way his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants, the bulge prominent. You swallow and involuntarily lick your lips in anticipation.

Desperate to feel his skin, you reach out to touch Orm’s chest.

His muscles are firm and warm beneath your touch as you trace idle patterns.

You’d have expected him to touch you now and let his fingers wander over your bare skin, but he seems to have frozen. So you look up to meet his eyes - instead of that fiery passion, they now carry a hint of uncertainty.

Orm’s gaze wanders between you and the surroundings as if grappling with elusive thoughts that demand his attention. The intensity that coloured his actions moments ago wavers, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability that puzzles you.

You furrow your brows. What happened to that intense, headstrong man who felt like an unwavering current?

His hair frames his face, and the blue of his eyes, though still vibrant, now mirrors a spectrum of emotions. There’s a depth to his expression, a silent turmoil beneath the surface, a vortex consuming him, pulling him under.

As you study Orm’s features, you sense the weight of something unsaid, and you feel it radiating off him in waves.

Your fingertips gently brush against Orm’s cheek as you reach out in a tender gesture. “Are you okay?” you inquire softly, searching his eyes for any sign of what might be troubling him.

His response is delayed, a moment of hesitation that lingers in the air. Sensing his reluctance to share, you decide to act on a more intuitive level. You reach out and pull him towards you so he also rests on the bed, cradled in your embrace.

“I’m here,” you murmur, the words whispered against his ear as you hold him close.

Orm shudders against you, his breath grazing your bare skin. It’s evident that he wrestles with unspoken thoughts, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue.

So you decide to lift the weight on his shoulders, and you offer a simple directive, “Let’s just sleep for now. No need to worry about anything.”

As he nestles into your embrace - finally returning it - the tension dissipates from his body, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your shared warmth.

Your fingers continue their soothing patterns on his back, a gentle effort to anchor him and not let him be adrift in the sea of his thoughts until you both fall asleep.

The last coherent thought lingering in your mind is that you wouldn’t mind having more moments like this with him - moments that make you feel safe, whole, and strangely content. Only when you feel the soft warmth of his smile against your neck, followed by a tender kiss, you realise that you’ve spoken out loud.

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laduenadelswing · 3 months

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My star

The chaotic realm of Hell, pulsated with a frenetic energy as Vox, the suave master of the TV waves, gracefully navigated the bustling streets. His screens projected a dazzling array of colors, each hue a testament to his control over the infernal airwaves. Tonight, however, a singular frequency resonated with him—a presence that shimmered amidst the sea of lost souls.

Y/N, a striking model whose essence transcended the ordinary, became the focal point of Vox's attention. Drawn to her like a moth to a flame,or Valentino to Angle dust, Vox envisioned her as the star of his upcoming TV show. The backstage of Vox's studio buzzed with otherworldly energy as Y/N prepared for the spectacle that awaited her.

Vox, watching her every move through his screens, couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull. She embodied a rare blend of beauty, confidence, and an untamed spirit that resonated with his own desire for control. No wonder she made it through Velvet.

The atmosphere backstage crackled with anticipation. Vox, ever the showman, orchestrated the visual feast that would unfold on the screens of the City. The cameras, guided by his meticulous vision, captured Y/N's every angle and expression, turning the backstage chaos into a masterpiece that amplified her captivating frequencies.

As the show reached its crescendo, Vox descended onto the stage himself, his screens displaying a kaleidoscope of admiration. "Y/N, my dear, you're not just a model. You're a masterpiece in the ever-shifting canvas of Hell," he declared, the words echoing through every TV set in the city.

Y/N, caught in the mesmerizing atmosphere Vox had orchestrated, met his gaze with a playful glint in her eyes. "Well, Vox, you certainly know how to put on a show."

The backstage chaos faded as Vox and Y/N retreated into a more secluded area, away from the prying eyes of the studio crew. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, the boundary between the curated TV spectacle and the pulsating reality of their connection blurring.

Vox, usually in control, felt a surge of something uncharted. The lines between the TV demon and the model began to blur as they exchanged playful banter, their laughter echoing through the backstage corridors.

In a moment of irresistible impulse, Vox closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Y/N's in a passionate kiss. The backstage chaos faded into the background as they lost themselves in the intensity of the moment. The allure of Hell seemed to dissipate, leaving only the connection between Vox and Y/N—a symphony of desire and an unexpected union behind the scenes. He lost himself in the kiss with his model, superstar and masterpiece.

As they broke the kiss, Vox's screens displayed a spectrum of colors, reflecting the tumultuous emotions within him. Y/N, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, whispered, "You really do know how to surprise, Vox."

The airwaves of Hell buzzed with the frequencies of their connection, the backstage now transformed into a haven where desire and control intermingled. Vox, still captivated by the enigmatic model, smiled. "In Hell, my dear, surprises are the spice of existence."

"Your so beautiful." He whispered.

"Maybe I should give a private Show." She replied playfully.

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor

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melannen · 1 year

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Dracula cross-stitch sampler pattern

Since I've had time on vacation, I finished up a cross-stitch pattern I started a year ago in the first Dracula Daily round, based on the words Dracula uses to greet Jonathan Harker when he comes to the castle: "Welcome to my house. Come freely, go safely, and leave some of the happiness you bring".

I wanted a sampler for my front hall, but all the patterns I could find were very Hot Topic Goth. Nothing wrong with that, but my goth aesthetic is more "creepy thing found behind the wall in an old attic", and I wanted a pattern that my aunt wouldn't realize was anything out of the ordinary. I was looking around for inspiration and stumbled on an 1871 sampler by 12-year-old Jemima Clements in the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. It's a little bit early for Dracula but the aesthetic was spot on, so I spent a long time squinting at a zoom of the best download of it they had to copy the wolves and the letters, and then left it for almost a year because I got frustrated trying to figure out how to get a good-formatted pattern out.

When we came up on a year I transcended frustrated and went with the good-old fashioned grandma method and transferred my pixels to a spreadsheet. So on the off chance you want a creepy Dracula sampler for your front hall, I now have it in .pdf and a downloadable Google Sheet. The .pdf is formatted to print on legal paper, but it will be a bit small that way; you are welcome to fiddle with the spreadsheets to get it the size you want.

PDF of the pattern of the Dracula quote ^this will not work if your browser redirects to https because my webhost messed that up, but it should work if you force http

Google Drive link to a shareable/downloadable Sheets file

The pattern uses 7-10 different thread colors; I don't believe in locking in brand-name floss, so the pattern includes color description and it's up to you to find stuff in your stash that looks good together.

I could not come up with a decision on the border, so the options are:

Make all the flowers plain lavender

Use a variegated purple for the flowers

Pick 4-6 different shades of lavender/light purple and alternate them - this is most similar to Jemima's border

Use the "allium flower" pixel art pattern I coded into the pattern (recommended only if you recognized the allium flower pixel art pattern I used.)

#dracula daily #dracula #cross stitch #cross-stitch #sampler #embroidery #pattern #welcome to my house #come freely #go safely #and leave some of the happiness you bring #don't recommend putting this on the front door since the caveats on the welcome are pretty vague #wolves #the children of the night #not the music the original sampler meant #(probably but never underestimate the creepiness of twelve year old girls)#(I don't know why else you'd do howling wolves for a prayer about music)

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esmedelacroix · 5 months

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Coffee Shop Love Pt.7

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread,

author's note: Hey lovies, I've had so much fun writing this series. I'm very happy that so many people like my writing. I'm trying to improve always in my English skills so I hope they are good. I hope you love this finale as much as I do, enjoy...

word count: 1.1k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

There he was standing at the entrance not even willing to listen to what you had to say. Miguel holding up his hand for you to stop taking was like a smack in the face. You had basically confessed to him, confirming the verity of the contents of your voicemail, and his response was for you to stop?

"Come here Baby," he muttered in a low tone. You slowly and cautiously walked up to him. You faced him where he stood right in front of the entrance.

"Look up," he commanded gently.

Then you saw it. The reason for him running back into the store. The reason why he wouldn't even walk all the way into the store to speak to you about your confession. Those bright green leaves with the red ribbon. He had planned it all. Of course he did, you were both standing under the mistletoe. The very mistletoe hat had gotten his hair caught in all the time. The very mistletoe you had both stood under together staring at each other once; before awkwardly dispersing. Only this time Miguel had brought you here.

"Someone told me once, that they were a great kisser, but I lacked the holiday cheer to get a smooch," he started causing you to giggle at the reference. He held intimate eye contact with you while pulling you closer by your waist. "Kiss me, Baby," he muttered.

And so you did. You got on your tippy toes and kissed him. It was short and sweet. But too prompt for Miguel's liking; he had been waiting far too long to kiss you. So he cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss was like a mix of want and need, and you could practically taste the craving. Your heart was doing a marathon, keeping up with the rhythm of his passionate kiss, like a beat that had a mind of its own. His hands, calloused and warm, traced the contours of your face, leaving a trail of sensation that burned like the touch of a summer sun. In that stolen moment, it was like the world outside had just disappeared, and you were caught up in this whirlwind of feelings where the line between you and him was blurred. The scent of his cologne mingled with the raw scent of shared breaths, creating a symphony that encapsulated the intensity of the connection. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that fervent embrace, you were enveloped in the sweet frenzy of a kiss that transcended the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. Your face immediately heated up thinking about what had just conspired between the two of you. "That was—" Miguel started.

"—magical" you sighed as you turned into putty in his arms.

"I'm really happy you chose to send that voicemail. I was thinking the same thing as you. I just didn't know how to tell you without scaring you away. I'd rather live with my feelings for you haunting me than lose you as a friend," he confessed.

You suddenly wrapped your arms around him resting your head against his chest. He hugged you back rubbing your back with his big hand. You both pulled away to look at each other with the comfortable silence embracing the two of you. "It's already so late, would you like to stay over?" you asked as you fidgeted with your hair.

"Yes I would love to," he replied.

The two of you went straight to bed that night. After taking your shower you sat up on your bed waiting for him to come out, while processing everything that had happened. You were fatigued but you wanted to wait for him to hold you like he had before. Your eyes were practically shut but were trying your hardest to stay awake.

The bathroom door finally swung open and Miguel walked into your bedroom to see you struggling to stay awake. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked as he walked over to the bed. You nodded your head and spread your arms out waiting for him to come and cuddle. He cuddled at your cute action. Just then you felt part of the bed sink in, compelling you to mile softly.

You could feel his presence even when he wasn't touching you yet. He finally took you in his arms and laid you down against him. You rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. It was slow and relaxing.

There was something different about the night. Miguel was running his hand through your hair and patting your head. All you could feel was an incredible sense of warmth. For once you didn't feel cold in bed. Maybe all you needed to cure your sensitivity to the cold was someone to hold you at night.

For the first time in forever, you slept in complete peace. Wholly protected from the cold by Miguel.

The next morning Miguel left for work with a hot black coffee, a muffin, and a kiss. Even the neighbors picked up on how upbeat you were feeling that day.

The following night while you sat at your shop waiting for Miguel to walk through the doors you couldn't help but fantasize about your blooming relationship with him. Your love life was finally blooming into something beautiful and—JINGLE! JINGLE! You looked up to see Miguel walking in with a grin.

"Welcome to Mug & Muffin, what can I make you tonight?" you asked looking up at him with a sweet smile.

"Could I get a kiss from a smokin' hot barista?" he quipped.

You ran around the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck to give him a kiss. You kissed him like you hadn't seen him in years. He suddenly lifted you up onto the counter and trapped you between his arms. You squealed and giggled hitting his shoulder playfully. He rubbed circles in his hips slowly and kissed you sweet and slow. He kissed you sweet and slow and you felt the world around you melt away. "Alright that's enough, I made you a drink," you said.

You hopped off the counter, got your own drink, and sat at his favorite table with him. You couldn't help but feel the warmth of the love that had blossomed between you and Miguel inside the warm confines of your coffee shop as you both sat there, enjoying your Christmas brews.

Next Sequel: Sweet Tooth...

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent@lotionlamp@local-mr-frog@scaleniusrm@migueloharastruelove@thedevax@veyveys @amber-content@3zae-zae3@simmerarmy

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soapyghostie · 2 months

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hiiii can i req a fem reader x dbd ghostface and legion of how would they react to readers backstory? before the fog, reader was a highly skilled and deadly merc (she doesn't mess with innocent ppl tho) who got nerfed by the entity 🙁 and became a new survivor, they found out all abt this when reader was telling her stories at the camp, and it also explains how she's so good at not getting killed pls and ty <333

I thought this request would be fun to try something a little different since it’s a very detailed request. I worked all afternoon on this request so I hope y’all enjoy. Now I’m going to go take a brain break…

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

In the desolated realm of the Entity, where the fog shrouds every corner and the survivors’ desperate screams echo through the air, a mysterious connection blossomed between Danny Johnson, the Ghost Face killer, and you. You are a resilient survivor whose past echoed with tales of life lived on edge.

One evening, as the survivors gathered around the flickering campfire in the cold embrace of the Entity’s realm, you decided to share your story. The glow from the fire danced across your face, casting shadows that mirrored the secrets you held.

Danny sat in the shadows, his iconic Ghost Face mask concealing any discernible emotion. As you began to recount your life before the fog, Danny’s curiosity intensified.

You were a highly skilled and deadly mercenary, known for your precise tactics and an unyielding code that forbade harm to the innocent. Your reputation on Earth was both feared and respected, a shadowy figure who navigated the murky waters of morally ambiguous contracts. You described your missions with vivid detail, the adrenaline-fueled pursuits, and the high-stakes negotiations. Danny listened intently, recognizing a certain darkness in your tales that resonated with his own experiences.

As you spoke, the survivors marveled at your tales, their eyes widening at the realization that this seemingly ordinary woman had once danced on the razor’s edge of life and death. But Danny, he remained silent, the mask concealing any emotion that may have betrayed his thoughts.

You continued, detailing the night you found yourself ensnared by the Entity’s web. The mercenary who faced down countless dangers suddenly found yourself in a realm where the line between predator and prey blurred, and only survival mattered. The Ghost Face, still concealed in the shadows, felt an odd connection to your story.

He admired the strength and resilience that allowed you to escape so many trials, but something deeper stirred within him.

When you delved into the intricacies of your survival techniques during trials, Danny’s attention sharpened. He recognized the cunning strategies she employed – a result of her mercenary past. It explained why you never faltered, consistently evading the clutches of killers and outsmarting the Entity’s malevolent designs.

After your story concluded, a heavy silence slung over the camp. Danny remained in his stoic silence, contemplating the revelations that had unfolded. He has never anticipated a connection with a survivor that transcended the typical predator-prey dynamic: an obsession.

In the following trials, Danny found himself observing you with newfound respect. A shared understanding passed between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shadows y’all both carried. As y’all navigated the fog together, Danny couldn’t help but feel a mysterious kinship with you, the mercenary survivor, who had faced down the darkness and emerged, still fighting.

The Legion/F.J.S.J

In the eerie realm between dimensions, where the Entity’s grasp manipulated time and reality itself, a new survivor emerged. This survivor was you who bore a mysterious past that surpassed the boundaries of the fog and was sought after by none other than The Legion – Frank, Julie, Susie, and Joey.

The campfire flickered as the survivors gathered, each harboring their own twisted tales of suffering. Among them, you, a young woman, stood out. Your eyes held a glimpse of a world far beyond the fog, haunting memories of a life as a highly skilled and deadly mercenary. One night, curiosity seized The Legion. As the survivors shared their stories to break the monotony of their torment, you decided to unveil your past. Your voice, tinged with both sorrow and strength, resonated through the chilling air.

Before the fog claimed you, you had navigated the shadows of society, dealing in a world of cutthroat mercenaries. Your skills were unmatched, your reputation whispered in dark corners. You spoke of stealth, precision, and a strict moral code that forbade harm to the innocent. The Legion listened intently, their interest piqued by tales that mirrored their own descent into darkness.

As you recounted your final mission before being ensnared by the Entity, The Legion exchanged glances, recognizing a kinship in the shadows. They saw echoes of their own stories in your struggles against a fate that twisted you into something beyond your control.

You detailed your transition from a deadly operative survivor trapped in an endless cycle of trials. Your survival instincts, honed by years of dangerous missions, allowed you to navigate the fog with grace that often eluded your fellow captives. It explained why you danced on the edge of sacrifice during trials, evading the killers’ grasp with an uncanny ability.

Frank, the charismatic leader of The Legion, felt a peculiar connection to you. He saw in you a kindred spirit, someone who, like them, had faced the darkness head-on. Susie and Joey, normally reserved and mysterious, found a silent respect for the mercenary survivor who shared their pain in the silent campfire tales.

The Legion, usually united in their chaotic pursuit of chaos, now found themselves touched by your story. Each had faced the Entity’s cruel hand differently, but your resilience left an indelible mark on their collective consciousness.

In the trials that followed, The Legion observed you with a newfound understanding. They saw a survivor who, despite the Entity's attempts to break you, clung to your humanity. You had faced the shadows of the world before the fog, and in the twisted realm of the Entity, you continue to defy the darkness.

As they hunted survivors, The Legion couldn’t help but feel a strange connection to you. Through you, they found peace in shared pain and a flicker of hope that defied the unrelenting despair of the fog. And so, in the shifting shadows of the trials, you and The Legion danced to the haunting rhythm of survival, bound by the echoes of y’all’s shared pasts.

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faebaex · 9 months

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Workplace Hazard

author note: i'm breaking my accidental writing hiatus bc I was watching TV and got inspired 😭 accidental mafia AU I guess bc I feel like it's given that Jade is probably going to be in some sort of shady occupation no matter what.

characters: Jade Leech x GN!Reader

When your partner works in a... Less than ordinary profession, there are certain risks involved.

You began your relationship with Jade Leech when you were in college. You both attended the prestigious Night Raven College, in the same year and in the same homeroom class. You were all too aware of his shady reputation and how he was considered one of the most intimidating figures in the college. Yet despite this, you found yourself entwined with Jade, your interests and personalities bringing the two of you together in a relationship that would transcend the cultural gap and difficulties that often persisted between merfolk and human couples.

When you both graduated from college, you went on to a career that blossomed from your fourth year internship whilst Jade carried on to closely work with Azul and his twin. Azul's humble Monstro Lounge grew into a service empire that encompassed ventures ranging from hotels and resorts, all of which Jade worked closely with as Azul's right hand man. Of course, Azul's under the table deals and predatory contracts flourished under the cover of Azul's corporation. Azul's public image considered him as a successful bachelor and a benevolent soul, but those who were unfortunate enough to not be able to fulfill their end of the contract had a different opinion. To them, Azul and his associates were a despicable mafia prettily gift wrapped in an illuminous reputation.

Jade Leech is considered a formidable and prominent presence both under the sea and on land. Employed officially as Azul's secretary, he also works as Azul's trusted right hand during his seedier operations. Such delicate work meant that Jade had accumulated quite the pool of enemies. And some of those enemies thought the best way to get back at Jade, was to get to you...

You had been waiting for Jade to come home, finishing up some of your work in your home office with an impatient sigh. Jade had said he was coming home days ago, yet he still hadn't showed. His messages were scarce and vague, filling you with a festering frustration that was slowly eroding away the edges of your patience.

A soft thump alerted you to a presence, and your eyes narrowed as you looked up from your work.

"Jade?" You called, reaching under your desk and discreetly pressing the button beneath the polished surface, your hand then slipping into your desk drawer.

"What time do you call this? You said you would be home days ago." You seethed, walking out of your office and making your way through your dimly lit apartment towards the front door. A quick, shadowed movement in your periphery has your head twitching to the side. "Jade...?" You repeated, feeling tense with the continued silence, a cold feeling crawling up your spine as you hesitated before a shadowed figure suddenly lunged quickly towards you.

....

Jade slid his house key into the front door smoothly, a constant low level vibration sounding from his phone in his inside pocket, alerting him of the panic alarm activated in his home. He twisted the key calmly, pushing open the door and entering without haste, closing the door with gentle precision.

"Darling, I'm home." Jade spoke in his smooth baritone, hanging his hat up on the coat hanger by the door. There was no response.

"I apologise, my love. Work has been terribly complicated at the moment. I do hope you could find it in yourself to forgive me." Jade continued, his polished shoes clacking through the hardwood floors of your shared apartment. Again, no response.

Jade's steps took him towards the lounge. As he entered, he saw a figure crumpled on the floor, their hands tied behind their back and their legs bound together. Another figure sat in an armchair in front of the bound figure, a baton twirling between their fingers as they looked up at Jade.

"Am I a joke to you, Leech?"

Jade's eyes lingered on the figure on the floor before they looked up at the seated silhouette with a smile on his face.

"Of course not, pearl. I would never dare to not take you seriously." Although his smile was genuine, it did have a hint of teasing to it, as if he enjoyed the thought of you all riled up. You tutted, your eyes remaining on the squirming figure at your feet before they moved to glare up at Jade.

"You said we'd go to dinner yesterday but you never turned up. I looked like a fool in that restaurant, all alone." You ranted bitterly, your lips pressed in a tight line.

"My apologies, pearl. Some clients can be so... Difficult," he crossed the room, stepping over the quivering figure, as if they weren't even there, so he could stand directly in front of you, "perhaps such misunderstandings would not occur if you attended one of Azul's restaurants, per my suggestion. I'd be able to get messages to you much easier that way." Your expression soured at that.

"I should be able to go to whatever restaurant I feel like when I've planned a dinner with my partner." You huffed, turning your face away from him and thumping the baton into your palm in frustration.

You felt the familiar feeling of smooth leather cup your chin gently as Jade's hand softly tilted your face back towards him, his eyes tender as he gazed down at you. "I'm sorry, darling. I'll endeavour for it to not happen again. It pains me to miss any precious moment with you."

You didn't soften at his words, continuing to pout and glare up at him, making a warm, fond smile spread across his lips. Jade leaned down, his hand still cupping your chin as he stooped so that his face hovered close to yours as he spoke quietly, "how about we go to dinner now? I discovered a restaurant with a fascinating menu you'd appreciate. I'm sure I could persuade them to stay open a few hours later than usual..." His thumb stroked over your bottom lip as he spoke, a loving gesture as he watched the worst of your wrath extinguish in your eyes, but the coals of discontent still simmering.

"Let me devote myself to you and make it up to you," he promised, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before he stood straight again, "but first, let me deal with this complication." His hand reached into his inside pocket as he pulled out his phone and speed dialled a number, stepping away from you and over the body on the carpet casually.

"Floyd." The bound figure immediately stiffened when it heard that name. "Can you come over? There has been a situation," Jade said smoothly, "there is a wayward remora here but unfortunately, I am terribly late for dinner so I cannot entertain them. I wonder if you could keep them company for me."

There was a pause, the room silent apart from the buzz of Floyd's voice through the phone as he spoke to Jade. For the first time since Jade had entered the lounge, his eyes slid down to the bound figure at his feet, the tender look in his eyes long gone as he stared down at the figure with hard eyes and a cold smile.

"But don't be too rough with them. I'd like to play with them too."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst jade #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade leech x y/n

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