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moonrisecoeur · 2 months

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compliance (how to brainwash your boyfriend) — leon kennedy

author’s note: this was written with re4r!leon in mind bc that’s my boyfriend! angel said so!! i have… so many hypno ideas, some considerably more palatable and some that are Much Worse, so pls let me know if you want more! also this is based off of an audio i listened to once by everdistant-utopia on reddit! the headset concept is kind of (extremely) goofy but i was into it idk. again, i'm aware that mind control isn't real and this is a silly ass concept. i had fun doing it anyway. no leons were hurt in the making of this fic. sorry for not posting it sooner even tho it was done i was extremely embarrassed lol. pls ignore any typos. love you!! thank u!!

wc: 5k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, afab reader, oral reader receiving, orgasm control, mention of feet for like two seconds

warning: this is dark content. please do not read if the following topics are sensitive to you: noncon, hypnosis, mind control. i dont endorse or encourage this type of behavior irl, its just a fantasy!

—

as you walk down the street, you walk by a flier that’s sitting on the sidewalk. you don’t stop to read it, but one word caught your eye. mind control. it was probably something stupid, something completely made up by some lunatic who thinks mind control is real. mind control is maybe, technically real, in the ‘just relax and close your eyes, breathe deeply and let yourself be at peace’ kind of way. definitely not the ‘put on this headset and let me rewire your brain to make you my pet’ kind of way.

but… would it really hurt to look at the flier? you turn around to see it’s still there, and, against all your better judgment, you decide to walk up to it and pick it up.

it’s dirty, wet because of the rain from last night. even still, you can read the description of the advertised product clearly, along with some more info like a website and contact info for the designers. you take a brief moment to wonder who in the hell comes up with that stuff.

introducing you to the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! perfect for all of your mind control needs! simply place the device over the subjected head and choose what you’d like to do with them. need an obedient housewife? in search of a new pet? want them to be madly in love and obsessed with you? all of that and more is possible with the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! visit our website and order the headset today!

you blink. this is insane. who would do this? who would make this? why would anyone want to make someone do any of this against their will? you feel sick to your stomach as you crumple up the flier and toss it in the nearest trash can.

because that’s… that’s not consensual. that’s wrong in every possible way. unless they gave consent to be, what, turned into an ‘obedient housewife’? that’s really what it said? there’s just no way that’s right. how is that legal to sell? what even was that flier doing?

this feels like the kind of thing that would be sold on the black market, not openly advertised to people on the street. what if some lunatic saw it and just started brainwashing people? no one could stop them, it’s not exactly a crime in and of itself, and any crimes committed would be a little difficult to report if the ‘subject’ was too mindless to notice or to say anything.

whatever. you threw the flier away, you did your job as a good samaritan by tossing it so someone much much worse than you wouldn’t get a chance to look at it, and thus, you can forget all about the headset. pretend you never saw the flier or knew it existed and carry on with your life.

except, you can’t really. it permeates your thoughts, seeps inside of your subconscious until you begin to hypothesize that the headset wasn’t the real hypnosis, it was seeing that flier. you know you must be delusional. it’s not real, you’re not really mind controlled from just reading the flier, but… would it really hurt it buy it? you had the money for it and it’s not too expensive at all.

you hate yourself for it but you look on the website, just as hypnotic as the flier was, and you see multiple variations of the headset. some more suited towards different outcomes for ‘subjects’ and some just different stylistically.

you find the one you were looking at earlier. the ultra brainwasher 3000. it’s a stupid name, you’re aware. it just doesn’t really matter because who’s gonna know that you own this? you’ll keep it, maybe try it out on yourself to see what it’s like. you won’t do anything crazy, maybe like, hypnotize yourself to not be able to sit down until all your household chores are done, just for the day. the ultra brainwasher 3000 claims to have this functionality, and you’re… more or less, curious.

you order it and spend two weeks in absolute hell, making sure your boyfriend is never home alone when the package could arrive. you’re not worried he’d open it and see the device. he doesn’t look through your stuff, but the packing sticker ‘brainmelting industrial company’ would…. catch his eye for sure. try explaining that to your boyfriend, especially because even if you’re a good liar, you’re not to leon.

but, you get it, and it’s perfect because leon isn’t home right now, and you get to play with your new toy for a little bit. the box is smaller than you expected, only including the headset, a charging cord, and a set of instructions.

as you’re reading, the thought only just now hits you. it’s surprising that it’s taken you this long to have this idea, given how it would be someone else’s first instinct.

“should i…” you murmur to yourself, looking around nervously to see if anyone is in earshot, “… should i use this on leon..?”

i don’t know, should you use a mind control headset on your poor boyfriend that was just sent on a mission to save the fucking president’s daughter? maybe not.

you don’t know how it took you this long to come up with the concept. i mean, the flier did mention making someone your obedient housewife, but… they never said that someone had to be a girl…

it’s gross or actually more disgusting, honestly, how excited you get at the prospect of doing this to leon, but you decide that yeah, fuck it, you might as well brainwash your boyfriend. truthfully, what are the consequences? besides… ruining your relationship, betraying his trust, destroying him as a person… eh, it’s only temporary, right? there’s ways to make it only temporary.. and there’s no way he’d remember..

you fiddle with it, curious of all the different things you could do to him. the headset didn’t have presets, you could make up literally anything you wanted him to believe. you could make him the obedient housewife, but you could also make him a servant, maybe even dress him up all pretty as a maid. you could make sure of his loyalty and commitment, make him be so in love with you that even the thought of being with another woman makes him physically ill.

he gets home later that night, worn down and tired and exhausted in every possible way. and you know you’re going to have to put on your best acting skills. you’re not sure if you’re ready to do this, but you’re gonna have to be, so you press a sweet kiss to his lips, one he lingers on for just a moment too long. his lips chase after yours as his eyes open back up slowly, looking at you through his pretty lashes, an eyebrow raised, “what?”

you can’t help but adore him, his bluntness and gruff attitude, yet how soft he touches your waist as he pulls you closer. leon is nothing if not gentle and sweet, and you love that about him, “nothing, i just… i just wanted to look at you,” you say, and it reminds you just how easy leon is. just a couple of words and his eyes get a little glassy, his heart leaping out of his chest just a bit.

it sometimes helps that your boyfriend has been through every form of hell since that day in raccoon city, so sometimes just sweet words and little gestures get a bigger reaction than you’d expect. he’s traumatized and broken down, so the love you give him matters so much more.

in short, he’s easy. he gives in quickly and doesn’t like to fight, not with you. gives you everything you want, doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask for much besides your attention and love.

“you always stare at me,” he says awkwardly. god he’s so not charming that it makes him effortlessly likable.

that’s what’s so sucky about the idea of hypnosis. do you lose the person he used to be? sure, a mindless househusband would be great, helplessly obedient and passive and hardworking, but does this override his actual personality? that’s a bit too scary.

you make an effort to soak in these parts of his personality, enjoying every inch of his pretty little mind. you decide that no matter what you do to him, you can’t ruin him completely. you’d miss his heart, rough and guarded but nonetheless yours.

“i wanna try something,” you murmur to him, your heart pounding a little more than it should, “do you trust me?”

“of course i do,” he says. your heart almost aches, he trusts you so implicitly.

“close your eyes,” you say, and he complies easily.

you step away to grab the headset, and he’s so sweet and good that he doesn’t even peek. you take a deep breath, and commit to it.

you place it on his head, and he grumbles, but doesn’t object. poor thing. doesn’t even realize what’s happening to him.

—

the setting on the headset that you chose wasn’t anything flashy but it was labeled ‘semi-permanent’ and it stated that the subject would not remember anything from the moment of hypnosis to the moment they wake up next. so, all and all, even if you felt horrible, the damage wouldn’t be permanent, and leon wouldn’t even remember what happened.

truthfully, it felt like nothing could go wrong. it wouldn’t alter him too much, just… make him helplessly obedient for a couple hours. you could turn up the intensity if you wanted to, if it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy your curiosity.

you decide that it’s now or never, especially since being lost in your head while your boyfriend is cluelessly wearing what looks like a vr headset is kind of… odd.

you start the application, waiting for it to begin on his end.

“what are you up to?” he asks innocently, probably still not seeing anything while it loads. the question sounds like an accusation, but it’s really not. leon genuinely just wants to know what’s going on. it’s hard not to, but you don’t answer.

you notice the exact moment that it starts because grunts out of nowhere and his whole body tenses, and he clutches onto the fabric of the couch cushions, using that sense as a way to ground himself during an overload of audio and visual stimulation.

you reach to grab his hand, and his grasps yours tightly, desperately, as if physically pleading with you to make it stop.

you whisper to him, “shhh, nice and easy,” you’re not even sure if he can hear you, but you still feel the need to speak. you’re not sure if it’s your voice or your touch but he relaxes just slightly, his breath raggedy and tense. he’s trying like hell to keep himself together, but it’s so overwhelming that it’s hard for him to think, “hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, just… let it happen.”

a pathetic little whimper escapes his throat as his body goes slack, jaw hanging open and arms hanging limply by his sides, “wha… why?” his voice sounds small, weak, and if you weren’t so cruel, you’d immediately take it all back and apologize and just face the consequences.

but you’re too far deep to back out now, even if leon’s pitiful demeanor is almost swaying you to stop, you know you can’t. not now.

“i… i thought you…” he whines, body tensing and spasming as he tries to put some form of coherent thought together, “wha… why..?” he whimpers again, pathetically broken down in just a matter of minutes.

you sit there with him, holding his hand, waiting for the process to be done, and once it is, you take the headset off.

he seems agitated, but doesn’t seem to know what at. his muscles are tense, but he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“hey,” you mutter gently, and he almost flinches at the sound, looking at you with those wide deer eyes again, scared. you reach out to touch his face, fingers caressing his cheek.

the cogs in his brain turn as he processes what’s happening, and the agitation seems to evaporate and become replaced by a sense of calm and relaxation. he looks into your eyes, and it seems like he’s deciding something.

“leon?”

“yes? how… can i serve you?” he asks, jaw dropping at his own words. he’s so stunned at what he’s saying and how he’s acting yet he can’t help it.

“…address me as… ma’am,” you say, and he shivers, eyes closing tensely as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, “and go get me something. how about… a cup of coffee? yeah, let’s start there.”

it makes sense that he’s fading in and out, the programming would probably need more time to settle in before it was done and his personality obviously wouldn’t just disappear, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to watch him fight the voice in his head that is desperate to obey you.

as he disappears into the kitchen, you sit where he was sitting on the couch to take a moment to think it all over.

leon has never been the most… dominant man. he has his moments of aggression and tension that turn into a roughness that his soul seems to often carry, but it’s never controlling. he’s not demanding, he asks nothing of you besides gracing him with your presence.

but due to his past, submission also doesn’t come easy to him. he likes to think he would lean more sub, just because he’s so malleable to your will, so easy to convince. anything you want is yours, and if you want his dignity laid out in the palm of your hand, then it’s yours to keep for eternity. he just struggles to fully give up control, especially since you know he’s not really had much of that in his life.

you kept his personality intact for the most part, but… he just seems so different. he responds pretty much the same, talks the same, acts the same. something just doesn’t seem right.

“here’s the coffee you asked for,” he mutters when he returns, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s… definitely conflicted. the implanted urge to obey you mindlessly and the natural urge to protect his self-respect are fighting in his head. you watch curiously to see which will win.

leon has been through hell, and you can always see it when you look into his eyes. he’s been controlled by the government, a puppet on their strings, since he survived that night in raccoon city. he must be used to a lack of control in his life. but now he’s your puppet, and you have no interest in using him as a killing machine. you have… different plans for him.

“thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, quiet but obedient. just how you wanted him. he stands there beside you, not really knowing what to do with himself as you take a sip, “rub my feet now.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. and he did.

something in his stomach sinks at the command, a feeling of urgency to do as you say fills his entire being, but it just feels so wrong to him. you’re never this brazen, this demanding.

“come on, leon,” you say, almost condescendingly, pointing to the floor right in front of the couch, “on… your… knees.”

he breathes shakily, but kneels down in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he gives you your damn foot massage. there’s turmoil in his head, easily seen by that deer-like look in his eyes as he stares wide-eyed at the ground. despite his roughness, he’s always had these soft, fragile eyes, reminding you of who he really is. it would be truly heartbreaking to watch him go through this if it also wasn’t incredibly attractive to put him on his knees and order him around.

leon has always been relatively compliant, but now it’s on a whole other level. anything you ask for, despite some inner conflict, he’ll do. you wonder just how far you could push him, but… you don’t decide to test that just yet.

for a few minutes, or however long it takes for you to finish your coffee, you sit there with him. his touch is good but not very skilled. he gets the tension and soreness out though, and you’re sure you could train that into him over time.

“take off your shirt,” you say, and his throws off his t-shirt easily. it lands in the corner unimportantly, and your smirk radiates confidence and something else much more sinister, “stand up, bend over in front of me.”

he closes his eyes tightly, clearly fighting that inner battle but the part of him desperate to get away and to not obey you is losing. he slowly rises to his feet and does as you ask. he places his hands on the coffee table, legs spread slightly like he already knows what’s about to happen. funny, because he doesn’t seem to know much of anything right now.

you stand up, hands touching all over him but particularly grasping at his ass, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers and enjoying the way his muscles flex, tightening and hardening when you grab him, “you never let me spank you,” you muse, almost annoyed, “i get it. you get nervous with power play and letting me dom you or whatever, but i always wanted to hit it just once. just to satisfy the curiosity of what it would be like.”

your hand pulls back and slams against his butt with a loud smacking noise. he gasps, breathing out shakily after the hit, “i… i’m sorry, ma’am.”

“but now that we’re here… and i’ve already got a taste, i don’t think i ever want to stop. so, from now on, no more of that. if i want to slap your ass, i’m going to,” you murmur, “and you will not try to stop me or convince me not to.”

“i.. i…” he whimpers, and for a second you pause, nervously that the real leon, somehow deep down, heard that, “… yes, ma’am.”

“good,” you mutter, slapping it again, feeling the hit in your hand as you pull away, and if you can feel it so clearly then you’re sure he can, “now, be polite and say ‘thank you’. thank me for teaching you how to correctly behave.”

“tha… thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, eyes shutting slowly as his deep inner need to resist is weakening.

“i own you now,” you groan, grasping at his hips posessively, mouth pressing open kisses to his bare shoulder, “no, i… have always owned you. owned your body, you just didn’t realize it.”

he nods, incredibly turned on. his body aches to be claimed, to be made yours.

sure, leon has always been yours, but his body has been purely his. he’s… cautious with it. he’s been more or less just too busy for romantic partners, but somehow you snuck your way into his life and he happily lets you stay. he just… is slowly learning to trust you with himself.

he can do easy, comfortable, casual sex. what he can’t do is hand himself over to you like this, helplessly obedient, submissive in every possible way. as much as leon doesn’t have the energy to fight, tired and worn down, fighting is all he know.

your nails drag against the skin of his torso and back, leaving pretty red lines wherever they go, “no more fighting. no more stressing about it. all you have to do is be mine, unequivocally.”

“i… i am..” he mumbles, and you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. he notices, shying away, “i… i am yours. unequivocally. you can… you can have me.”

manhandling has always been a little difficult, considering leon is all muscle and he’s a sturdy guy, but you spin him at the hips to face you, and he’s effortlessly moved, “can i… have your body just as much as i have your heart?”

“yes, i… yes, ma’am, it’s yours. do whatever you want with it, ma’am,” he says, a slight daze in his eyes, clearly he’s not all the way there. he's trying. he’s still so soft, so tender and malleable, so leon.

you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch, hands grasping him roughly, in a way that might hurt anyone else, but leon is strong. sure, your touch is bruising him, but… he doesn’t have enough

of his mind left to be bothered.

lips trail down his neck and shoulder, but move back up to his ear, sucking on his skin in a vampiric manner. you whisper to him, “you’re gonna only focus on my pleasure.”

“i… i am? i… i am…” he stutters, god it’s so damn cute.

“of course you are. you’d rather eat me out than have an orgasm yourself, wouldn’t you? if i was a crueler person, i would find a way to mind control your orgasms away completely. that way you could… focus on my pleasure, but i’m not that mean.”

he shudders, your lips pressing to the sensitive spot underneath his ear, teeth dragging down his skin, teasing him, taunting him.

“you wanna eat now?” you ask, lips pressed to his collarbone now, and he moans out an affirmative. you suck a hickey against the skin right atop of the bone, admiring the redness, the way you get to watch it turn a disgusting shade of purple. one that should make you nervous to have done to him, only turns you on.

instead of ordering him into his knees this time, you just push him, easily putting his head between your legs. his hands come up to hold your thighs, steadying himself as you half-stand half-sit on the counter. he pulls your pants down enough , but can’t even be bothered to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side.

“can.. i, ma’am?”

you chuckle, not really expecting him to be so polite, “go for it, sweet thing.”

he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit, just once, before his tongue meets your folds and he licks and sucks like tomorrow won’t come but he’ll make sure you will. he groans into your pussy like he’s the one being pleasured, and that honestly seems like a fair comparison. sure, he was physically pleasing you, but even just the act of giving oral is making his head spin with a satisfaction he has never felt before. he could get high off of this.

leon has always been good at giving head. much better than just good. he’s incredible. it’s the one thing where he can fully just zone out. if you’re too lost in your own pleasure, then you can’t focus on him and how he’s feeling, and there’s something oddly safe about the feeling of being, for all intents and purposes, alone with his thoughts. eating your pussy just comes so natural that it’s second nature.

but now? he can’t get lost in his thoughts if he doesn’t have any. doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it any less. he’s enjoying anything you ask him to do. you could tell him to go fold your laundry and then clean your bathroom and do your dishes and he’s do everything diligently and he’d be satisfied the whole time. god, maybe you do really want a househusband. besides, leon could use the emotional break from his job. he’s content enough serving you.

he makes you cum sooner than you expected, but it’s literally just because he’s that good with his tongue, and when he moved one his hands from your thigh to press two fingers into your cunt, fingering you in thick circular motions as he sucked on your clit, you were gone.

he continues, wet fingers gushing in a fast rhythm as you orgasm, grinding against his mouth, using him completely for your own pleasure. it was always a secret fantasy of his, and now it’s reality, even if his mind isn’t all the way there and the only thoughts running through his head are is she pleased with me? did i do a good job? do i deserve her praise? i should do better next time. i should serve her better. i only want to serve her.

and now that he’s completely helpless, servitude being the only concept he can comprehend, and you come down from a high so intense it took you a second to remember that leon was waiting patiently for your next command, next order.

“put… put me on the couch…” you gasp out in heavy breaths.

he’s strong, and he helps to guide you to the couch, body still part paralyzed from such an intense pleasure. you lay there, still breathing a little heavy.

“go get dressed and cleaned up…” you mutter to him, “and then come back out here and cuddle up next to me.”

he does as you ask, finding his clothes and getting dressed again, and then when he approaches the couch again, you reach out your arms for him. the smile he gives you is almost too real. too… really leon. you still feel that twinge of nervousness in your gut, but then he lays against you, head tucked into the crook of your neck, and you know he doesn’t know. for all that he’s good at, leon’s not a great actor.

you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, soft and soothing motions to lull him into a state of compliance.

“you’re mine,” you whisper, hoping he’ll confirm it back.

of course he does, softly, no longer feeling conflicted, “yours, ma’am.”

“you’ll be obedient and submissive from now on,” your voice is soft but carries a dominance he doesn’t quite think he could ever escape nor would he ever want to.

“i’ll be.. obedient and submissive.”

“you’ll only focus on my pleasure,” you say, knowing he’ll repeat it back obediently just like the ones previous, but you feel his rock hard cock against your leg and as much as you want to shove his cock inside of you in an instant, you can’t help but want to control him like that. keep his orgasms just out of reach until he goes mad from the teasing and edging you plan to do to him. keep him nice and horny and desperate, just how you like him. if he wasn’t submissive enough for you before, he is now.

“only yours, only ever yours, please…” his voice is soft and meek and god if you wanted to you could find a mind control that was permanent and just… leave him like this forever. let him take care of your home and future kids and do your household chores and tasks. keep him completely obedient, god it would be…

“you can’t resist,” you whisper, leaning into his hair,

resting your head against his in a soft intimate moment, “i can’t resist, ma’am.”

you nod gently, and after a moment, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “i’m.. i love you, leon. sorry about all of this..”

“… why are you apologizing, ma’am?” he asks, tilting his head slightly even in your grasp to show confusion. he really is just like a little puppy sometimes.

“you know.. about the mind control.”

he shrugs, the most unbothered happy smile on his face, “oh, that’s.. that’s okay, i’m fine with it. i.. already belonged to you.”

“but that was in a more… romantic way. an ‘i belong with you’ kind of way. not the kind i did to you,” you say, just a tinge of guilt holding you back, but you push it aside, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. i just.. just know i love you. even when i’m ordering you around.”

“i’ll remember that, ma’am,” he smiles up at you just a little softer, just a little more like his true self, just a little more leon. that heavy feeling of guilt in your gut will never quite go away, will it?

you fall asleep on the couch together, knowing or maybe just hoping you’ll wake up to leon not remembering anything. hopefully he doesn’t piece together that he has no memory of you giving him that hickey and those bruises on his hips were definitely not his job's doing.

—

you wake up to a fond smell of breakfast and a bright morning, sitting up off the couch as you look at your phone. leon’s not laying there next to you, which is odd but not completely uncommon. sometimes he goes out in the morning to work out or disappears in the middle of the night when he’s needed somewhere, but most of the time, and today included, he’s just in the kitchen.

you find him there, standing in front of the coffee pot, and you walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midsection, softly burying your face into his back to shyly hide from his gaze.

“awh, morning lovebug,” his sweet raspy morning voice says to you, a hand on your arms, holding you tight so there’s not even a chance you could let go, “missed ya yesterday. did you sleep alright?”

“...mhm,” you hum, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder blade.

it’s a sweet moment, full of love and warmth and tenderness and you could have almost forgotten what you did to leon last night had the smell of coffee not been hanging in the air. but hey, at least he doesn’t remember what really happened, though he’s kind of confused just how he forgot how he got all of these bruises and scratches.

244 notes · View notes

flordeamatista · 3 months

Text

𝗜'𝗺 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

pairing: boudoir photographer!ari levinson x reader

concept: You're so pretty, I'm all yours

word count: 1.4k

warnings: new year feels, soft grey! reader, soft kisses, allusions to bj,

a/n: daydream written for the @writerscafehub writer's cafe secret santa exchange. prompt: “Character is a photographer. Reader wants to do a boudoir photo shoot for Christmas.

I appreciate the love you both gave me when I first wrote the first draft and ideas in December @targaryenvampireslayer @navybrat817

lovely beta: @/navybrat817

line divider by the lovely @s-tarksintern / the cute gif and moodboard made by me

masterlist

It was an image of you that sparked my desire to see you.

It was impossible not to admire your own reflection as you gazed into the large vanity mirror. Expertly applied makeup highlights your attractive features, giving you an air of magic and allure. You hadn't felt this confident and energized in a long time.

Ultimately, today was the day she returned to you.

There is a charred, hollow space in your soul where the flame of your soul once burned fiercely. The time is now to reignite that flame and let it spread throughout your veins, consuming all doubts and fears.

It's time to reclaim yourself, step back into your true self, open your heart and let her back in. After years of waiting and walking through the dark, she is coming through the day and the time for hesitation is over.

Set that flash ablaze and watch it turn into an inferno of passion and strength.

The silk robe draped smoothly over your body, providing comfort and a soft barrier as you prepared for the photo shoot. Often, a photo can convey a thousand words about a person, and your photos conveyed intensity and fierceness.

Little did you know, the man behind the camera would become the perfect match for your fiery energy. You had seen his work online, attracted by his talent and unique style. A face-to-face meeting with him, however, was a whole new experience. Your spine was tingling from his presence. The piercing blue of his eyes and the chiseled features only added to his allure. Billboards were the right place to advertise his face, not behind a camera.

Faced with his blazing inferno, you couldn't help but feel like a mere flicker.

As the light from the camera engulfs your eyes, primal desires ignite in your mind.

The heat radiating from it beckons you closer, enticing you to grasp its alluring power and reach out and grasp it.

As you step toward the camera, your heart pounding with anticipation, you repeat like a manifesting prayer, "She will burn, she will be loved."

This new year brings you closer to achieving your deepest desires.

You breathe deeply as you step in front of the lens and release any inhibitions or doubts you may have. Hearing the air rush into and out of your body, you become aware of your own existence.

Now is your chance to shine without apologies or hesitation.

Embrace your true self and ignite it before Ari Levinson's eyes.

Feel the flames of passion and authenticity dancing within you, pleading to be released.

Making your own ambiance of beauty.

A sense of anticipation tingles your body as you lie on the crisp, white sheets. There's something unmistakably sexy and inviting about the way your legs are spread apart.

Your bare skin shivers as cool air blows over it, both excited and nervous.

Standing before you is someone who has witnessed your most intimate and sensual moments.

Through the eyes of his high-quality camera, he captures each curve and angle of you, gently guiding you so that you feel more at ease and desired.

Praise and compliments from him ignite desire within you.

He is telling you to move slightly to the left, so he can see your pretty eyes. With each shot he took, his flattery stoked the sparks of desire within.

You're so pretty, I'm all yours.

Ari emerged from behind the camera and slowly approached you, getting down on his knees in front of you. You held your position, trying to maintain composure as his fingers danced across your skin.

The tension in the room only grows as his intense gaze and heavy breathing intensify.

Inhale and exhale, you remind yourself as Ari's touch becomes more daring and electrifying. In the midst of all this intensity, he gently turns your face towards another light source.

More of this touch. It will make you want to burn with him and feel his touch. This time, more.

Your mouth dropped open as he reverted to his vision.

An intense spark lit his cyan eyes, and he quickly grabbed his camera, eager to capture the raw emotion emanating from within you. Standing before him, you radiated fiery passion. With each click of the shutter, he immortalized your essence, capturing every detail, every surge of energy. The final click, the room reverberated with unbridled passion and boundless creativity as one, sealing the moment in time.

Your adoration grows in me, and I’m thrilled to be able to share mine with yours.

When you look in the mirror, your lips, covered in a rich crimson lipstick, press together. You give the mirror an air kiss. A kiss to seal this moment. A moment that you achieved.

She is getting what she was made to get on this very night.

Behind you as the sun sets, your lover now lies a peaceful state, his hands bound by metallic handcuffs under the low light. You move fluidly and seductively towards him with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Your lips leave a trail of bold red kisses along his bare chest, each one expressing your passion and desire for him.

You are enthralled by his skin under your touch, igniting an inner fire that cannot be quenched.

Yours.

It is a man who sees your vision and your vision sees him as your own.

An abrupt blinding light breaks through the darkness as he stirs from his slumber. Trying to adjust his blurry vision, he hears soft moans escape his lips. A sudden sense of urgency arises in him as he notices your piercing eyes and your body hovering over him. Seeing your fingers clatter against his belt, he weakly grunts and asks what you were doing.

“Shhh. I'm just pleasuring my man," you declared boldly. "It's only moments ago that you were taking my pictures and now I'm fully taking you."

You felt your breath tighten as you looked at him. Seeing his body under your touch was a release because this connection is real.

Curling your lips into a sensual smile, you knew his body was yours to possess.

After having been his muse during the photoshoot, now it was your turn to capture every inch of him.

The love you shared simmered between stolen glances and yearning gazes. You glide down his zipper as his eyes widen, unable to resist your intense pull towards him.

In your arms, he belongs.

Since that first snap with his camera captured your heart, he's yours entirely.

Our connection, strong and deep, breaking through.

Despite trying to contain his moans, they escaped as he gazed upon your completely naked and flawless form. The sensation of your fingers around him was stronger than any flash in the world.

"You're mine," you declared, locking eyes with Ari in a passionate stare. "You belong to me, Ari Levinson. Only me. "I've been searching for you" With those words, you took him into your mouth, teasing him with your tongue and igniting a fire within him.

Despite trying to contain his moans, they escaped as he gazed at your completely naked and flawless form. The sensation of your fingers around him was stronger than any light in the world.

"I'm yours," you said, locking eyes with Ari. "I belong to you, Ari Levinson. Only me. You've been searching for me, and now we have found each other." With those words, you took him into your mouth, teasing him with your tongue and igniting a fire within him.

You are Ari Levinson's perfect picture.

This flame is back, and let it spread throughout your veins as you go into the flare of flame, ultimately winning the light, consuming everything you touch.

Embracing each other, two souls seeking comfort found they were not themselves completely, until they descended into lust, an intense desire that devoured their muses.

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homeofthelonelywriter · 21 days

Text

Drawn to you | Pt. 4

(A/N) This one's a bit shorter, but I hope you like it! Also, thank you so much for 2500 Followers!!! Aaaahhhh I love all of you so much!

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: flashback to life on earth, sexism

Synopsis: Your life back on Earth.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Earth - 1920

“You’re late.”

You raised your head to look into the glaring eyes of your boss. The fat, old man regarded you with a scowl before turning around and stomping towards his office.

“I-I’m sorry Sir. The bus was full, so I had to wait for the next one, and-”

He turned to face you again, his face red with anger.

“I don’t care! You are paid to be here on time! The next time you’re late, I’ll cut it from your paycheck, understood?”

You frantically nodded while holding your breath. Pointing out that you were actually twenty minutes early and just ten minutes late from your usual thirty minutes early, would just enrage the man even more.

With another huff, the man walked into his office and slammed the door, making you jump at the sudden, loud noise. You sighed and quietly made your way to your workstation, where you sat up for the day. You smiled at your colleagues that passed and led pleasant small talk with the ones that stopped for a chat. But the whole day went by without you seeing your favorite person even once.

Not that he had to stop by or anything, but he sometimes did and those were always the best moments of the day. He held such a passion for this job, it always infected you, made you hold on to the dream of one day being a host yourself.

But in your heart, you knew that that dream was foolish. A woman? A radio host? That would never happen. If you were lucky, maybe you could become the secretary, but your voice would never be aired live. At least not in this century.

With a sigh, you got to work. You quickly wrote up the weather report for the day, before handing it over to your boss, who would give the final go. After that you filed through letters and parcels, delivering them to where they needed to go.

You were basically done with your day’s work and it wasn’t even time for lunch. So, you decided to work on your dream some more. Whenever you had free time, you’d type out what you would do if you were the host. Corny jokes and funny advertisements. You’d make a list of the songs you’d play and what you’d be talking about.

Your shoulders slumped as you finished your dream program, the realization that that would never happen, catching up to you. Sometimes you wondered if playing into the dream made reality harder to bear. You still continued your wishful thinking, lost in a dream where you were calling the shots and where you would yell at fat, old men.

Two hands suddenly covering your eyes pulled you back to reality and a grin took over your lips.

“Guess who?”

You chuckled, trying to think of a witty response.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

The laugh that escaped the man behind you made your heart race and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

You shook your head with a smile and the hands lowered until they rested on your shoulders. With a wide grin, you spun in your chair, to come face to face with your favorite person.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

You rolled your eyes as he guided your right hand to his lips, before pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

The usually smiling host’s expression hardened when you mentioned the fat, old man. He glared in the direction of his office. If looks could kill, that man would be dead.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

With wide eyes, you raised your hands against the man’s mouth to shush him.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

He turned back to you with his signature smile.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and quickly lowered your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. Your reaction caused the man to chuckle, before carefully ruffling through your hair. A complaint crossed your lips at his action and he stopped with a playful laugh, before helping you to fix your hair.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You grabbed the pieces of paper and went through the different points you had written up, ending on the big story you’d talk about, were you in any kind of position to.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

The man nodded thoughtfully, taking notes in his head. He was about to say something when his name was called from the other end of the office space.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

He was already walking away, still facing you.

“I always do.”

He grinned, before turning around and running to where he was being summoned, leaving you with a soft smile and a racing heart.

By the time you had to clock out, you were sure you were dying of boredom. It was bad enough that you had considered asking for more work, but thankfully you made it through the day without. You quickly put on your gloves and hat, before you left the radio station and made your way home.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you hurried to the old radio in your kitchen and turned it on, just in time to hear him introducing himself.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the evening show. I’m your host, as usual, Alastor!”

Hell - now

“Why don’t you remember me?”

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #alastor love

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velvetcloxds · 9 months

Note

come over- more twd request for you, daryl and sunshine!reader braiding his hair and him forgetting to take it out before getting to work in the morning

OH, SUNSHINE | D.D.

word count: 1k

warnings: soft daryl my beloved, age gap, alexandria era, little suggestive at the end- not exactly as requested, also added some dbf!daryl, quickly proofread

You giggled as Daryl grunted for at least the hundredth time since he was very cruelly persuaded to take a shower with you, you being there the only thing that was convincing enough to let you wash his hair for him, a deep conditioning only allowed after the promise of letting him kiss you all over while you worked. His hair was longer than it was in the prison, very much so, and with the aid of the hair dryer his hair looked prepped for some fancy advertisement you’d have seen posted on a wall somewhere before.

“Stop that,” you cooed, the cigarette he flicked out the window long forgotten as soon as his eyes landed on you, you were sprawled out on the bed they’d assigned him, all clean and perfect in a shirt that should’ve been his, but he didn’t mind seeing it on you instead. He had half the mind to check if the door was locked again, knowing you shouldn’t be in here, shouldn’t have been in there with him either, but hell what a sight, he’d face whatever reprimand his selfish feelings would earn him for savoring the delicacy that you were. He fiddled again, trying to tuck his hair behind his ear but the softness was unfamiliar, slipping right back and earning another little huff and puff from him. “Come here,” you beckoned, sitting back against the wall, unfolding your legs so he could settle between them.

He was slow in his descent, hesitant, careful as always knowing who you were, who you belonged to, his best friend, your father, fast asleep in the room next door. But he moved still, on his knees in front of you, raking his eyes over your features as the most delicately hopeful smile rested on your lips. You were much less hesitant, gentle hands reaching out to smooth out his hair, the fuzziness from the conditioner making his grunting more understandable.

“Can I braid it for you,” you breathed though you knew he wouldn’t mind, ever the stubborn man that he is, he could never say no to you, never fuss as much as he is used to doing, not with you, it felt wrong to be anything but perfectly agreeable to your every wish and desire. “It’ll be less frizzy,” you had one of those smiles on your face again, like the one that coerced him into the shower, into his room, into his heart.

Now he wasn’t all that excited for the concept of it all, he’d briefly considered an issue coming up in the middle of the night and he’d have to face the dead or the enemy while sporting a braid but selfishly it would mean he’d get to feel your fingers digging through his hair, scraping at his scalp, cooing him in a way he’d only allow from you.

“Alright,” he gave in and he was putty in your hands in an instant, melting down onto his elbows to let you work, eyes full of disbelieved wonder as he watched you and he couldn’t fight himself placing a kiss onto your bare thigh, humming as he stole a few more, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Is this better, baby?” you sighed, performing some sort of magic with the end of his braid to tie it off and make it stay in place, fingers gripping his shoulder to guide him up, bring him closer, humming just the same as he gripped onto your waist. He kissed at your neck, trailed his lips up your jaw, your cheek, pausing as he hovered by your ear as he whispered inaudible praises- you fought a giggle at the softness of him, so unfamiliar yet so natural. “Dar,” you wanted to see him, unhappy with him hiding even as he was so close to you. He kissed the hair above your ear, grunting differently this time, a smug little sound as his hands drifted up your shirt, rough flesh scraping against your silky skin.

“Yes, sunshine?” he shifted to look at you, not surprised when you cupped his cheeks, brushed your nose against his, and scrunched said nose when he pinched at your sides.

“I love you,” you knew you weren’t allowed to say that out loud, whisper it maybe, draw it in small hearts on his hand when he reached for you in secret, write it on notes to sneak into the pocket of his leather vest but never out loud- it was a dangerous thing to say, to admit, loving him shouldn’t be something you were bold about. “You love me too,” you added, and his brows dipped, he wanted to disagree, remind you that this wasn’t the plan, wasn’t what either of you signed up for but he couldn’t find the words to lie to you. So, he kissed you again, harder, forceful with the softest, gentlest reminder of love. You held onto him tightly, scared he’d leave if you didn’t, brave as you felt him guide you down into the pillows pulling lightly at the material of your shirt.

“Say it again,” he whispered into your mouth and you smiled when he pulled away, looked you over, the heat creeping over your skin, burning against his own and you knew it was crazy to be so caught up in him in the midst of it all. “Again, say it again.”

“You love me,” you dared him he had that smug smile again, tilting his head to demand more. “And I love you,” he hummed, pleased with himself, with you obliging him. “You going to show me how much?” how you managed to say that with such an innocent little expression was beyond him, but he wouldn’t stop giving you what you want now, and never would.

“Let’s hope this braid of yours holds.”

And it did hold, right up to the morning when he'd forgotten he had it in the first place, the night before having much more memorable moments that took root in his head. You were the last one up, making sure to sneak into your room to get some real clothes before going downstairs where you found a blushing Daryl eating a piece of toast. He was the center of attention, jokes coming from all around even from your dad, and your little hairstyle was to blame. His frustration eased ever so slightly when you ever nonchalantly stilled next to them.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and he knew you were, knew you felt extremely silly for making people laugh at him over what was supposed to be an act of love. He handed you the plate with his other piece of toast, shrugging as he licked his fingers clean.

"Don't be," he whispered right back just in time for Rick to come through with another joke that had you biting back a smile of your own as the kitchen filled with laughter. "Something funny, sunshine?" he dared loud enough for the room to hear and you were the one to shrug, hiding the fondness in your eyes by taking a bite of the toast, humming at the taste, content as he accidentally rested his shoulder against yours.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x yn #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fluff #twd fluff #monique's writing events #monique's homesick sleepover #right where queue left me

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hanasnx · 7 months

Text

Kinktober: House of Amateurs - S1E0

MINORS DNI 18+

SUMMARY: behind the scenes | background, rules, & credit.

KRAYT HOUSE M.LIST | NAVI | INBOX | @KRAYTHOUSE

WC: 0.6k | CHARACTERS: anakin skywalker x f!reader

WARNINGS: f!reader | adult film au | mentioned: sexual content, adult film industry

Debuting as a new, young, hot porn-star on that casting couch redefined your future business opportunities irreversibly. You remember how fun the amateur house you’d stayed at was, crammed with girls lined up and waiting for a callback meanwhile a studio financed their living.

The advertisement from Krayt House found you by chance. Apparently a company as fresh as you were was hungry for a turn in the spotlight. So desperate they managed to recruit the infamous Anakin Skywalker as their main sell.

You’d heard of him, everyone had. One of the girls at the house buzzed constantly over how she’d been lucky enough to be paired with Anakin for her “audition.” In other words, that following Friday he’d fuck her on that casting couch. Jealousy did not come naturally to you, but that day it did.

No matter, you end up meeting him anyway when you’re employed onto the studio’s series House of Amateurs. A level of humor to the name, as if it’s meant to fool its audience into believing it’s a true amateur house. Full of young women eager to debut, and Anakin in charge of running through them all until they’re inducted onto the porn scene. In reality, most— if not all— of these women have their own profiles already.

You couldn’t lie, the concept was appealing. Like a sorority house that you’re paid to be a part of, with co-stars you’re attracted to. The shoot for promo pictures was too much fun. Thirty girls in micro-bikinis attacking each other with whipped cream and silly string, pictures taken of the delectable chaos until the photographer gathered everyone to the center. Girls coated in the various substances, breathing heavy, and surrounding the Anakin Skywalker as he sat in the middle of the couch. Some knelt or sat around his feet at the base of the couch, others stood behind the back of it, and you— as well as a few others— found their place on the cushions next to him. When you took a spot directly to his left, he’d adjusted you, pressing you into his side while his arm laid out behind you.

“Big smiles, everyone! You’re having fun!” the photographer instructed, and your co-stars obliged. Noises of excitement chorused as nozzles upturned to rain down whipped cream and silly string, throwing arms up and bouncing until a flash of the camera light slows the roll. It signaled the end, and the subjects clap in commemoration. You still have the promo picture, and you used to stare at the face Anakin wore. How his knees spread, his fist rested against his temple, a lazy way about him, a leisured countenance that conveyed what a delicious mess he’s in. The biggest surprise by far was how quiet of a person he was. Now, you’ll share a house with him, intent to share all your holes too until the season is over.

hello everyone my name is indy im @hanasnx :) im very excited about this project. definitely read the above background bcos it has important info regarding what krayt house is and what the series house of amateurs is etc etc

some important things to keep in mind:

╰┈➤ this takes place within my pornstar au for anakin. so adultfilm!anakin or pornstar!anakin is the “host” of the show, so to speak. however, it’s pretty much only implied the entire series, you can enjoy the series as is within gffa for the most part. ╰┈➤ this is an x-reader work only, and you’ll be switching povs. its a way to convey that you’re the subject, but you’re just a different person each time. completely seamless transition. anakin can’t play favorites ╰┈➤ this is amateur house meta, the studio plays up the idea you girls are inexperienced or un-established and anakin skywalker is helping you debut officially, when that isnt true within the story ╰┈➤ it’s all f!reader, and mostly dom!anakin

╰┈➤ Must keep room and common areas clean ╰┈➤ No panties ╰┈➤ No toys ╰┈➤ No touching yourself ╰┈➤ Cameras stay on ╰┈➤ Remember your safe words ╰┈➤ Send a word to our creator, @hanasnx about your favorite parts, lines, episodes, or dialogues. Feel free to ask about behind-the-scenes, or opinions.

indy

╰┈➤ writer ╰┈➤ producer ╰┈➤ sponsor ╰┈➤ on-site creative director ╰┈➤ auditor ╰┈➤ social media marketer ╰┈➤ graphic designer: krayt house logo is my personal design, banners using phonto, fonts include helvetica and vogue regular, pictures are from pinterest and virgin territory (2007) edited on picsart.

donnie (@xstarkillerx)

╰┈➤ cameraman ╰┈➤ consultant ╰┈➤ lighting director ╰┈➤ audio quality assurance ╰┈➤ graphic designer: the text design on the krayt house logo ╰┈➤ intimacy coordinator

malley (@villainsoftheweek)

╰┈➤ chief motivator ╰┈➤ my good girl

cast

╰┈➤ anakin skywalker ╰┈➤ you

and last but not least, huge thanks to you for reading and enjoying. taglist below:

@justadmiringanakin @anisbaby @hardlyparker @whistle1whistle @forcemeanakin @xstarkillerx @jumpsoffacliff @bimbo-baggins86 @sisnxsty @oilfics @silxani @teamoankin @kitwalkersfavoritewhore @obsessedrebel @ssaaaronhotchnerr @cherrycheryi @spidervixen @carefullycontrolledchaos @clover444leaf @similarlyso @your-new-favorite69 @kaminokatie @nightingal22 @anak1nsx @hot-and-confused @haroldronald @sythethecarrot @haydensgirlaela @1184p @kayden666 @murdrdocs @jokenotfunny @sswiftiestars @lovelybucky1-fics @pocketwatch56 @vadersslut @foreverburningstar

disclaimer: if you're not tagged and you asked to be tagged, i most likely did not tag you because you lacked an age in your bio or somewhere i could find. everything about this post is 18+. if your username is written but unhighlighted, it's because tumblr has prolly marked you as a spam, and i left the username in case you ever search your own username and it comes up that way.

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julienbakerpls · 10 months

Text

Happy Birthday Part 1

Julien Baker/Reader

requests - "ok! i was thinking i’ve seen this concept before but like a fic where it’s like a tattoo/piercing shop au and julien works there and pierces reader’s nipples or does a tattoo for her and then asks her out afterwards? and maybe reader has lower pain tolerance and is nervous about it so julien comforts her?"

"need julien saying good girl…"

It was your birthday and you have been hyping yourself up for this for the last year and now you were really going to do it. You booked and prepaid the piercing parlor where you were going to get your nipples pierced. You'd wanted to do this forever but kept putting it off because of how scared you were, and also how much anxiety the thought of taking off your shirt in front of a stranger filled you with.

But it was officially your birthday, and you'd already told your best friend that you were doing this. And honestly she scared you enough that you now kinda had to go through with it.

Your appointment was at 12pm today and it was currently, you paused to check the clock in your car. 11:45am. Okay so it was now or never.

You slowly climbed out of your car, making your way to the shop door. The place had been advertised as a very queer friendly place and that was proven true when you walked in and saw all the pride flags hanging up.

You walked over to the woman behind the counter, she had short black hair, was wearing red lipstick and she was stunning.

"Hi, um I have an appointment at 12 for some piercings?" you asked, feeling anxious and overall too embarrassed to say that you were getting your nipples pierced. She smiled kindly at you and told you that the piercer would be with you in a few minutes.

You attempted to make yourself comfortable in the small lounge area, but failed miserably.

"Y/n?" a voice called, you looked up to see a woman covered in tattoos with big brown eyes smiling at you.

"Yeah, yes sorry." You answered walking over to her. You were surprised to be a few inches taller than her, considering you were usually considered short.

"Alright, if you'll follow me then." She spoke softly and turned around motioning for you to follow her. You took a deep breath before entering the small room after her.

"Okay so i'm just going to lock the door for your privacy, and we can get started. It looks like your getting both nipples pierced?" She asked, looking up from her paperwork.

"Um yes yeah." You stuttered still not fully over how attractive she was.

"Alrighty, oh and it says it's your birthday today, Happy birthday! I'm Julien, I realized I forgot to introduce myself earlier, sorry." She said, making her way over to you and smiling shyly. You felt your stomach swoop, at her big smile.

"Y/n, but you know that already." You spoke, face turning red. She laughed a little reaching back to tie her hair back into a bun. You weren't expecting the physical reaction your body had to that simple everyday action.

"Okay, so you can take off your shirt and bra whenever your ready.." Julien smiled, turning around to give you privacy, but then she seemed to think better about it and turning back around since she'd have to see you shirtless anyways.

You laughed at her actions, before pulling your shirt over your head and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You watched the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks, as she tried to get control of her features.

"Okay, so i'm just going to mark on both sides where the needle is going to go through okay?" Julien said using a toothpick with ink on it to mark both sides of your nipples.

"I have to get your nipples hard for me to be able to pierce them, this is completely not sexual or anything." Her face still slightly pink, but over all completely serious. She helped you lay down on the bench, moving so she was leaning over you. She tugged on your left nipple, her face completely focused on her task. You had to close your eyes, and try to calm yourself down, chanting over and over in your head that this was her job and not sexual in any way.

"Okay, take a deep breath in and release it when I tell you to okay?" Julien asked, smiling down at you. You nodded and she signaled for you to take a deep breath in, you felt the needle against your nipple.

"Breathe out for me." Julien said, you did as instructed, and she pushed the needle through your left nipple.

"Good girl." She spoke softly, screwing the piercing closed.

"Mmmmm fuuuuck." You groaned out, tears filling your eyes.

"Hey hey you did so good for me." Julien soothed you.

"That hurt so much more than I thought it would." You said in almost a whine, your pain tolerance being almost nonexistent.

"Okay one more, deep breath in..... and out." She said in a quiet but firm voice, pushing the needle through.

"Ow fuuuck" You cried, the tears falling from your eyes. Julien quickly grabbed a tissue for you, whipping under your eyes.

"You did so good, and it's over now!" She smiled down at you, moving to get a cotton swab to dab the blood away.

"It's over?" You asked, feeling anxious that you'd never be able to think of another reason to see her again.

"Yeah, you're all set. Just some ground rules, clean them twice a day until they're healed enough to stop getting those little crusts around them. Oh and don't let anyone suck on them or anything for at least 2 months." Julien said, patting your thigh.

"Oh okay, um do I like need to come back for you to check on them at all?" You asked hopefully.

"Not unless you want to, or think you might have an infection." she said with her back to you disposing of the used needles.

"And if I just want to see you.... specifically?" You asked hesitantly, putting your shirt back on. You watched as Julien froze, it was subtle but enough for you to notice and feel like you crossed a line.

"Unless you don't want that... it's fine, uh thank you for the piercings." You called out, swinging the door open and quickly making your way to the front desk to pay. You saw another client go back as soon as you made it to the lobby, sighing and pulling out your card to pay.

"Okay so the total is 150 with the cleaning spray, if you have any questions or concerns feel free to call us." The woman at the front desk smiled, handing you your bag as her phone dinged. She stopped what she was doing to read the message.

"Oh and um there's this bar, that's like right down the street called The Red Door, it's a super chill place to just go and have a few drinks. They also have live music... you should check it out... specifically on Friday nights." She smiled at you, as you started to make your way out the door.

"Yeah sure, Thank you!" You called over your shoulder, you were so anxious you could almost ignore the throbbing coming from your chest. As you climbed in your car you noticed that you left your favorite bra on the table in there, deciding it was now gone forever you started the car and drove home.

-Okay so part two will be better but i wanted to do a little time skip specifically 2 months... so the end is kinda angsty but i don't think y'all are ready for how smuty the next part will be... 🫣

#julien baker x reader #julien baker #phoebe bridgers #lucy dacus #boygenius

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tardlard · 2 months

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hazbin hotel redesign part 2/?? (since i felt creative and the last one was received okay! lore below :3)

BACKGROUND: husk was a gambling addict when he was alive, surrounding himself with "hang in there" posters whenever situations got tough and being able to sneakily cheat in solitaire (which is why hes a cat lolzies) -now in hell, he made a living by becoming an overlord of the pride ring's casino motel, but then met alastor. the two got along, but its clearly toxic from how alastor treats the poor guy. husk stays by the radio demon's side nonetheless, the two becoming really bad business partners and 'friends'. (his soul isnt owned hurrah) -alastor drags him and nifty to the happy hotel, run by the dynamis angel charlie morningstar. he decides to roll with it, becoming an overlord sponsor and the hotel's bartender. 👍

DESIGN CHOICES: i wanted husk to look more like a bartender and a gambler, changing his attire and giving him an actual shirt :3 -his design originally wasnt that bad (surprise it wasn't made entirely by vivzie), but i felt like it was a little too cluttered and bland at the same time -i feel like he shouldn't be so skinny, considering he's supposed to be an alcoholic who loves cheap booze, so i fattened him up a bit :3 -his claw is supposed to act as a cork screw since he works at the hotel bar -i removed his wings, i just felt like they didnt fit his design or theme well (sorry wing lovers -made his color palette less red, adding in some gold n green -FUCK THE TOPHAT BRO LET HIS HAIR BREATHE -i didn't give him shoes despite him being an overlord n all, but its due to cats sweating through their feet and using their paws as a stealth advantage!!

CONCEPT SO FAR: -so, charlie goes to the seraphim and blabbers out her ideas, faithful in heaven being accepting and fully siding with her dream. but, approval's iffy, and it takes a while before heaven decides to go along with it (albeit they shit on her constantly for it). sent down with keekee, now her trusty book of sinner backgrounds and hotel embodiment/key, she gets to work on advertising her happy hotel!!! -first to arrive to the hotel is vedika (my vaggie rename), a fallen angel with the intent of guarding charlie and providing for the hotel itself. (not revealing she was an exterminator, and now these lesbians get SLOW BURN) -as they advertise, the infamous radio demon finds the idea of an angel wanting to redeem SINNERS entertaining, so he shows up and drags along husker and nifty to help around. (hes more evil here, me and my homies HATE alastor) -then they find a demon to bring along as the example/star of the redemption idea, angel dust (now more related to his mafia background, no more porn jokes guys11!!), and attempting to get him clean so heaven doesnt make fun of charlie as much feel free to critique me! im not the brightest in character design, so it'd be helpful to get any tips and tricks with my design! be nice tho, im just a gyal might do another 😋(is it obvious i had a warrior cats phase)

#my art #tardlard design #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #anti spindlehorse #anti vivziepop #i dont support vivziepop #character redesign #rewrite #rough draft #they did him so dirty #drunk cat :3 #illustration #i am so tired #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #vivzie critical

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natjennie · 2 years

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this is a purposeless rant but I LOVE suspension of disbelief when it's fun and serves a narrative purpose. the case I'm thinking of specifically is wwdits and ofmd, obviously. but! hear me out.

it seems to be a major theme in taika adjacent projects, or possibly just aotearoan media in general, (obviously those specific projects are jemaine's and david's respectively) that there's a certain ridiculousness inherent to movies and tv. there's an undeniable unmistakable silliness to the very concept of media; it's never going to perfectly mimic or represent real life, and attempting to or claiming that you are is both futile and fails to do the medium justice.

these kinds of productions, ie ofmd, wwdits, wilderpeople, fotc, etc, have humor to them always, a lot of which comes from the format of the piece itself. the period setting of ofmd works because it isn't followed realistically. the romcom structure of it is so beautifully nailed and elevated because of the ridiculousness of the premise. wwdits is by its nature a stupid thing, a documentary crew following around a houseful of vampires.

they don't take themselves too seriously. is what I'm trying to say. wwdits KNOWS it's a foolish little show, so when things are inconsistent or not fully examined, when we have to suspend our disbelief, it feels more like the audience is in on the joke, rather than we're being shortchanged. when a show that advertises itself as a drama, a period piece, etc, makes those kinds of shortcuts, they don't serve a narrative purpose, or at least it's not as clear. it feels more underhanded, more like corporations are cutting corners and not putting care into their product.

for example, the historical inaccuracies in black sails would feel a lot more out of place and disruptive than they do in ofmd. because no one in ofmd is trying to make you believe it's real. the artistry, the framing, the costuming, the exaggerated moon and travel distances, they all feel more like theater than television. so, it stands to reason that we all feel more like an audience at a play, seeing the edges of the curtains and the black beneath the player's feet but willing to ignore them for the art; we are all one collective viewer, holding our breath so we don't disrupt the piece as its constructed around us. instead of other, more self-serious media that closes us out. with glaring cgi and fakery, made to feel alien and far away from our hearts.

so what I mean is, I love you practical effects, I love you improvised lines, I love you exaggerated feelings, I love you theater, I love you deception for the purpose of love. I love you ofmd I love you wwdits.

#yknow what I mean?#ofmd #wwdits #taika waititi #jermaine clement #david jenkins

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newtonsheffield · 1 year

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Hi, Molly. In Nothing Good Starts, does Kate transition smoothly into all the media attention and modeling for sponsors that come with being with Anthony? Does she feel uncomfortable or annoyed or anything like that at first? Or something less fraught like just not instinctively knowing what to do in front of the camera during shoots?

I think it's not that Kate minds it, by the time she and Anthony start dating, she's reasonably comfortable doing press and she's comfortable enough with the fact that there are 40ft high billboards of her boyfriend smouldering away in cities all over the world. She's stunned honestly, when she was sitting on Anthony's sofa and she had a call from Daphne.

"So, I'm sure you know, Calvin Klein's a sponsor for the team."

Kate clicked her tongue, "Is that why am officious woman sends me jeans every few months?"

"It is yeah," Daphne chuckled and something in her voice made Kate more than a little nervous. "Calvin Klein's... really excited to be back on board for next season."

Kate blinked, "I'm... glad I'll get a ton of free jeans?"

"Great!" Daphne said, "So you'd be interested in doing an ad campaign with Anthony. Perfect."

Kate's mouth dropped open in surprise, "What?"

"Well," Daphne started, "They've noticed the sort of... excitement about the two of you, and they're excited to advertise their women's line with the team as well."

"Do I have to do this?"

"No, I can tell them no."

Kate sighed, her fingers running through Anthony's hair as he lay the length of her. "This is great for the team isn't it?"

"It absolutely would be, yeah."

"I guess we're shooting an ad campaign then."

Anthony was so excited, she could tell he was from the moment she'd told him. His eyes lit up and his smile was broad like it always was when they got to spend time together, his arm around her waist as they entered the garage.

"Are you nervous?"

Kate rolled her eyes, "Yes, I'm nervous. I've never done anything like this."

Anthony chuckled, "Oh come on, you've been topless in this garage before."

"You aren't funny." Kate poked his ribs, already feeling more comfortable.

"I'm fucking hilarious."

She wasn't actually topless, she knew that. Despite what it would look like when the concept was explained and they'd asked if it was something she'd be comfortable with, and she still wasn't sure if she was. Staring at herself in the mirror with a skin coloured scarp of fabric around her chest and a light wash pair of jeans.

"You okay?"

Anthony appeared in the mirror behind her, his brow furrowed. His hair had been artfully tousled by the hair crew, his moustache left untouched. They'd smeared oil over his chest and jeans just like they had with her hands, so it looked as though she'd had her hands all over him.

"Yeah."

"There's no need to be nervous," Anthony said gently. wrapping his arm back around her waist. "It's just you ad me, right?"

It's just you and me.

It was what she said to him when she could tell he was stressed on the radio, or before he started. When she saw his smile grow a little stilted, or she heard it in his voice. Anthony's eyes would find hers and his arms would wrap around her and he'd breathe more easily. and now she did as well.

"Yeah, just you and me."

"Perfect." Anthony grinned, tugging her up quickly so her legs were wrapped around his waist. "We're ready for our close up!"

He ran them in in front of the camera, pressing Kate against the bonnet of the car they'd wheeled into view, tools strewn messily around them, and suddenly, she didn't feel so nervous anymore.

#nothing good starts #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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southeastasianists · 1 month

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Tan Ming Li is a certified death doula. Just as there are those who facilitate bringing new life into the world, there should be people facilitating more and better ways to talk about death and dying, she reasons.

In 2023, she started The Life Review, a social venture with the mission to normalise conversations about death, dying and bereavement. Events open to the public include Life Stories, a series of chat sessions with topics such as “Motherless daughters”, “Real men don’t cry” and “Pet loss and our enduring bonds”; as well as Death Over Dinner, in which people come together to have conversations guided by Tan about their personal experiences with loss while sharing a meal.

The last Death Over Dinner took place at South Indian restaurant Podi & Poriyal, where participants were served dishes containing ingredients with special life and death significance in South Indian culture such as black sesame seeds, which signify purification; and jackfruit, the wood of which is often used as funeral pyre logs during cremation.

“What better way for Asians to connect than through food?” said Tan, explaining that Death Over Dinner is actually a global movement that originated in the US, “but we tweaked it so that food was a much bigger component, building the conversations around the ingredients and dishes. In other countries, the concept is just for people to talk about death over the dinner table.”

Tan, who is in her 40s, believes that getting comfortable with talking openly and honestly about such topics is vitally important.

“A nationwide survey conducted last year (by the Singapore Management University) revealed that ‘only 53 per cent of Singaporeans are comfortable discussing their own death while barely a third (33.4 per cent) would do so with someone who is dying’,” she shared.

She feels there is also a tendency to over-medicalise conversations about death, focusing on treatments and doctors.

“As a society, death is not something that is commonly discussed and we tend to be ‘death-denying’. Healthcare and wellness are all about ‘preventing’ death. In fighting against death, we are unaccepting of this natural part of life. This makes it hard to be vulnerable about our emotions around it,” she said.

Even if you haven’t lost a loved one yourself, “When someone else experiences a loss, many of us don’t know how to address the topic and end up using platitudes like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or worse, ‘Everything happens for a reason’,” she pointed out.

Ironically, avoiding the subject of death inadvertently gives it more power. “This power can then suppress our thoughts, beliefs and behaviour,” she opined.

NO STRANGER TO DEATH AND DENIAL

Tan speaks from personal experience. When she was 17, her mum died of cancer. “Dad said, ‘Don’t worry, she will recover.’ Her sudden passing left us in shock. I remember my dad brought me to the hospital canteen, broke the news to me and simply said, ‘We just have to accept it and move on’. I don’t think he ever recovered. As far as I recall, there were no conversations about it within the family.

“In the years that followed, I lost my dad, grandma, uncles and aunts… I was frozen in my grief response and it took a mental health crisis for me to start addressing these issues.”

Concurrently, Tan had always been interested in social work, from her university years when she volunteered to support children with special needs, to volunteering to teach yoga and breathing at various institutions including the Society for the Physically Disabled (SPD) and the Institute of Mental Health (IMH). She also lived in Thailand for several years, where she gave her time to a social enterprise helping indigenous craftsmen sell their goods.

Her career was in Advertising Research until she took a sabbatical and travelled to India in 2013. Following that period of time in which to think and reflect, she embarked on a new path, offering services such as mindfulness and movement.

“In the course of my work, I encountered clients who are terminally ill or grieving the loss of a loved one. Curious about how to better support them, I started researching the topic,” she recalled. “One day, I received an email from students working on a grief literacy event, inviting me to facilitate a somatic movement session for parents who had lost their child. Somatic movement involves exploring the body's sensations and movements to promote healing. During this session, many participants were able to release long held emotions within their bodies, even years after their loved one had passed.”

Motivated by the experience, she enrolled in the death doula course offered by the International End of Life Doula Association, an organisation in the US. Participants acquire skills revolving around how to support and comfort the dying and their loved ones.

“As I delved deeper into the subject, I realised that this was something that needed to go beyond supporting my clients one-to-one. The societal reluctance to discuss death openly leads to a lot of discomfort and unresolved emotions surrounding the topic, and I realised the need to scale and bring this out to the public,” she said.

So, “I decided to pursue a Masters of Science degree in Thanotology – even doctors go, ‘What’s that?’ – and start The Life Review as a platform for people to get comfortable discussing end-of-life matters through education and engagement.”

As far as she knows, she’s the only one in Singapore taking a Masters in Thanatology (“When the course started, the Programme Director said, ‘Now we are an international programme, thanks to Ming Li!’”) and one of just four people in Singapore who have completed death doula training.

“While trying to help people going through bereavement and grief, it struck me that I also had to look at my own experiences and work through all the emotions and experiences that I hadn’t known how to deal with – or even realised was necessary to,” she divulged.

“The way society operates, if we experience a loss, we are given three days of compassionate leave – and only for immediate family – and then we are expected to get back to ‘normal’ as productive members of society. But what about losing a friend? A partner? A pet? Do you get over it in three days? Since the norm was to get on with life, that’s what I did. It was only later in life that I realised that it was affecting me in ways that I did not immediately connect back to my earlier experiences, such as in the way I interacted with people in relationships and friendships. I would not get too close in case they would disappear,” she shared.

And so, “The main reason I’m doing this now is because of what I have gone through in my own life. The programmes I’m planning are skewed towards caregivers for now, as I don’t want anyone to be in a situation that I was in.” She added, “It was a turning point for me to adopt cats, knowing that they will die before me, yet to accept this and love them.”

Her work has also turned into “my legacy project for my parents”.

“I have a purpose to fulfil now, to bring The Life Review into fruition, in the remaining years left of my life. And in a way, I’m already planning for my end, making sure that I don’t regret things that I could or should have done,” she said.

DINNER WITH A PURPOSE

At Death Over Dinner events, “The framing of conversations is intentionally designed to be inclusive and non-confrontational. Participants are encouraged to share their thoughts and experiences without feeling pressured to delve into deeply personal reflections or imagine their own funerals,” Tan said.

The dinner serves as a casual starting point for discussions about a normally taboo topic to unfold naturally, fostering a sense of comfort and familiarity around the topic of death, she continued. “The intention is not to impose rigid guidelines or restrictions but rather to offer gentle guidance and prompts to steer the dialogue in a constructive direction” while embracing cultural elements within our specific society.

It is also about equipping people with the knowhow and language to either walk alongside a person who is dying, or to support a caregiver.

There are sessions taking place every quarter, which are open for individual sign-ups. The next Death Over Dinner event is planned for Apr 25 at Podi & Poriyal, with a group size of 12 to 16 people. Tan is also open to private group bookings, and hopes to possibly work with other restaurants as well.

The topic of death is rarely broached when everyone is healthy, she mused. But, in the face of loss, which comes sooner or later to all of us, “People may struggle to find the right words to express their feelings or fears, fearing that broaching the topic could cause further distress or discomfort to the person who is ill. As a result, conversations about end-of-life wishes, funeral arrangements, or even acknowledging the possibility of death may be avoided altogether, creating a palpable tension and unease.

"Dealing with it openly and saying what needs to be said can help the ones left behind adjust to the loss after the person passes away.”

And, “In the case of someone who knows they are dying, people around them not wanting to talk about it can leave them feeling unheard. They may not be able to express their desires; there may be things left unsaid; there may be people tiptoeing around them and telling them, ‘You’re going to be fine’ when they know full well they won’t be.”

The question of how we can begin to approach the topic of death in a meaningful way begs another: How talking about death openly and frankly can help us to live our lives more fully and intentionally.

“Accepting the finite nature of life and finding peace with it can change our outlook on life. When we acknowledge that life inevitably starts and ends, we are able to define what happens in between that holds significance,” Tan said.

“How do we make what happens in the middle matter? How do we leave a legacy for ourselves and future generations? Do we want to spend our time sweating the small stuff and harbouring grudges, or instead, use it to create memories and foster deep relationships? Living intentionally prompts us to confront these questions and align our actions with our values.

“Ultimately, embracing the impermanence of life compels us to live authentically, love fiercely and leave a legacy of compassion and connection.”

To sign up for Death Over Dinner, visit https://thelifereview.org/death-over-dinner.

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #Tan Ming Li #Death

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momo-de-avis · 7 months

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You know what? Fuck it. It's not worth it. Don't go to Sintra. Everything is crowded. The town is so crowded they had to limit traffic. The Pena Palace is just one big anthill. Whatever your clever trick to skip lines or enjoy the "quiet hours", I promise you will not work. "It's raining tomorrow so I bet there will be less people!" There won't. In fact, not only will it be just as crowded, you now have to stand in line AT LEAST for 45 minutes under the pouring rain with absolutely no shelter. And don't even bother with an umbrella. Don't even bother with checking the weather app before you get there. The Pena Palace has its own climate. Is it drizzling in Sintra with a bit of wind? It's a fucking typhoon up there. You open that umbrella, you're Mary Poppin your ass down the cliff, and if not you, then your umbrella will just quit its sorry life and lift off to glide across the skies amid the tree tops, something I have literally seen every single time I've been there.

"I'll buy the tickets online with a time slot, that'll be easier!" The 11AM time slot today extended for more than a 100 meters at 11.45. My time slot was 10AM and I got in at 10.50.

"I'll go on monday, less people will go on monday!" I promise you literally every tourist in Lisbon who is alive thought the same. Monday is, in fact, extra crowded.

"Sunday, then!" Accept that there are no quiet days in Sintra. Your Tricks To Escape Tourists are actually things every single tourist has thought of. Sintra takes no breaks. You chose the Instagrammer Palace, you're going to waste 2h just standing around, waiting, and then visit the Palace in about 40-45 minutes because the staff there refuse to let anyone stop and breathe or, god forbid, read a fucking plaque or take a picture and treat that shit like goddamn Shawshank with the KEEP WALKING yelling.

"I'll go to THAT other palace then" while there are palaces that are not even a fraction of the chaos that is Pena, I promise you you're not thinking of them. Yes Regaleira is just as chaotic, if not more, you just don't feel it is because it's a fucking massive garden, and you get there and see all these tracks and paths and think "ah! I made the right decision" and then you get to the initiation well and you're back to cursing god

"I will go during low season there's less people then!" I've been hearing these words all month long, only without the exciting ingenuity of someone who truly believes they've cracked the code. Last year I heard the same in October and November. Baby boy. Baby girl. There's no low season. Everything is hell right now. As I keep saying: whatever your clever trick, literally everyone else has thought about it

"I bet just the town is okay" Sintra is a town whose urban layout looks like what happens if a kid comes up with the concept of a city in a shoebox. I don't think most people understand how tiny it is but I think confusion stems from the fact that Sintra is advertised as having beautiful places to visit like Colares and Guincho, which is true, but that's the district. The town, where all the palaces are, is small. The streets are narrow. Think oldest part of Alfama narrow, only in Sintra there's like 4 of them and that's the whole thing. You can literally visit it in one hour. I'm not dishing out on it, it's one of my favourite places and the fact that it's so small adds to the charm for me. But now drop thousands of tourists in there and you're back to that kid designing a city inside a shoebox but now he's actually dropping bugs in it.

And sure, Piriquita isn't that crowded, and you go on the takeway line and there's only two people ahead of you and you think, see this isn't so bad! And then the two people ahead of you are actually a single group of 19 spanish middle aged women who are now, ONLY NOW, deciding what pastries they want, and since they're here, might as well ask what every single one of them are, and oh you're not in a hurry are you? We're gonna be here a while haha. And you just wanted one silly little travesseiro

Just skip Sintra. It's a fucking nightmare. I'm wet, I'm frustrated, I've been on my feet for 40 minutes and I've ran out of things to explain about the fucking Palace because otherwise i simply will have nothing to say when we're actually inside.

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bitterkarmaa · 1 year

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“What kind of psychopath has 1,273 unread emails?” feels very much like a moon and eclipse interaction lol

Absolutely. This one’ll be shorter, but I just HAD to do it because the concept is so funny.

“What kind of psychopath has 1,273 unread emails?”

-Moon & Eclipse-

“What are you doing at my computer?”

Moon’s voice fills the room, full of disdain and suppressed rage, but Eclipse barely gives him a glance. Instead, he’s staring at the screen as if he’s either seen a ghost, or found a sketchy website with advertisements that no one would ever want to see.

If it’s the latter, Moon would beat his ass into next week.

“Have you ever opened an email in your life?”

Eclipse’s response catches him off guard, so, for a moment, Moon stands in silence. A confused look falls over his face, then, in the next moment, he’s furious.

“You’ve been going through my emails?!” The night-themed jester shouts, but this doesn’t seem to startle Eclipse enough to make his retreat. Instead, he slowly turns to Moon with his hands clasped together, face scrunched up as if he’s unsure whether his next comment will get him killed. Narrowed red eyes pierce into dented orange and black metal.

“Perhaps.”

Eclipse can’t help the sly smile that slips onto his face as he watches Moon switch from furious to absolutely livid.

“I’m going to break you into little bitty pieces.”

Moon’s tone makes some of Eclipse’s confidence waiver. His smile fades into a grimace.

“Please don’t.” He responds curtly, quickly stepping back as Moon lunges forwards, one hand barely managing to grasp Eclipse’s arm. He tugs in an attempt to get the other to release him, but…that look in Moon’s eyes stomps his remaining hope into the dirt and leaves it to die.

“Dude, come on. We can talk about this.” Eclipse chuckles nervously, finally able to wrench his arm out of Moon’s grip. Eclipse staggers back, catching himself before he can topple over and make himself look even worse.

“Why were you looking through my shit?” Moon’s voice is barely above a growl, borderline threat seeping into his words.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Eclipse retorts, quirking a brow as Moon crosses his arms challengingly.

“We won’t know unless we try, hm?” He taps his foot in anticipation. Wow. Like a parent scolding a child, wagging that finger except more subtly- just enough to portray annoyance, nothing more.

“….I sent you an email that contained a file of funny cat memes and I wanted to check if you opened it.”

The silence stretches on after Eclipse’s confession. Neither of them move. All they do is stare wide-eyed at each other.

After what feels like a decade, Moon slowly lets out a vent, his previous anger leaving his body, being replaced by lax annoyance. Eclipse plays with his fingers as he watches the younger piece of kill code calm himself down, all while staring at Eclipse with a blank expression.

It’s just a little unnerving, since…

KC wore that same face, except masked by a smile instead of a frustrated frown.

“Why couldn’t you just, like, I don’t know, message me with the file?” Moon drags his hands down his face, creating an awful scraping noise that quickly seems to agitate Eclipse, since he moves forwards and grabs Moon’s wrists so fast that the night-themed animatronic has to blink a few times to process.

“…I don’t know how.”

Moon can’t help but show his surprise at that admission, barely reacting as Eclipse releases him again and pulls his hands close to his chest, looking nervous and ashamed. He…Eclipse isn’t like this. What’s so bad about not knowing how to do something? Why does he look so…

Scared?

“You’ve called Blood before.” Moon murmurs quizzically, falling into a subdued silence as Eclipse’s rays shrink in, making him look awfully small and pathetic. Was that the point of that function? He never fully understood why someone would want to appear smaller.

“That’s…different.” Eclipse mumbles under his breath.

“No, it’s not. Calling and sending messages uses the same database. The basic functionality is coded into-“ Moon abruptly cuts himself off, realization hitting him like a brick fired from a high-caliber rifle.

Eclipse must know what Moon’s silence means, because, soon enough, he has withered away into a bundle of nervous fidgeting and embarrassment that forces his gaze to the floor.

“You’re…still learning how to work a body of your own, I’m guessing?” Moon asks, and it looks like Eclipse is about to snap out some sort of retort, denial, perhaps, but that momentary vigor quickly passes. He looks as if he wants to say more, to explain the specifics of it all, but all he can muster is a nod.

“I can teach you, if you want.”

Eclipse’s one-eyed stare darts up to Moon, filled with cautious hope.

“Seriously? It’s no big deal, I can figure it out…”

Moon doesn’t know if it’s Eclipse’s tone that makes him feel obligated to help, or if it’s that stupid little twinge of ‘what caused you to act like this’ that forces all hard feelings towards the other animatronic out of his mind- either way, Moon rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t even. Just accept it, Candy Corn.” Moon teases, barking out a laugh at the shift of kicked puppy to wild wolf in Eclipse’s expression.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Alright, Corny.”

“THAT’S EVEN WORSE!”

Moon breaks down into a fit of laughter, only becoming more hysteric as his computer says, in a monotone voice from the corner of the room:

“Lol.”

Eclipse gives the console the most vicious glare he can muster without physically punching the thing.

“If I’m Candy Corn then you’re a psychopath!” Eclipse snaps, and Moon manages to stifle his laughter enough to utter a questioning hun between his deep venting.

“I mean, what kind of psychopath has 1,273 unread emails?” Eclipse smirks as the annoyance comes back onto Moon’s face.

“You counted them?!”

“I don’t know if you knew this or not, but, over the folder labeled ‘unread emails’ there’s this fancy and convenient number that tells you how many there are. You’d know this if you actually opened your emails.”

A wild chase between the two ensued for the next two hours.

#karmas bitter but so am i #karma’s bitter #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun and moon au #sams eclipse #sun and moon fnaf #kb moon #kb eclipse #kb drabbles #sams moon #sams au

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docholligay · 5 months

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The raison d’etre for this trip, in its conception, was to see the Christmas markets of Germany and the UK. I don’t know if I’ll say that is actually how it turned out, given how many UK markets Mom has taken a quick turn around and then decided to go do something else, like sit in a pub or sit in a different pub*. It must be said that, in this department, Germany beats the UK as rightly and soundly as [insert inappropriate WWII joke here]. The Christmas ‘markets’ in the UK are largely consisting, at least based on my survey of four large and major ones, repackaged items that are largely not handcrafted by the seller, a lot of food stalls, and, bless it, a number of bars. Not a bad tme if I lived in any of these cities but assuredly not something worth crossing that Atlantic for.

But the German Christmas markets were mostly as advertised. Even the more commercial among them had foods that carried the air of the traditional, made extensive effort to continue the line of culture that had been there for generations, and curled around themselves in long circles that invited more of a chance to meander than a strict row system that kept you going down a shooting gallery of booths. The Frankfurt market, even straight off the plane ride with a roughly 3 hour night, dazzled with its sense of history and its easy strolls through to the bar. It was at this market that I tried what I might call, “The drink of the trip”

Fuerzangenbowle, the best hot alcoholic drink I had never encountered even in writing, even in passing, truly a genius invention.** What this is, is mulled wine, already getting points from me, but then they soak a cone of sugar in rum and light it on fire so it drips down into the wine. I would have told you i wouldn’t care for that because it would make it too sweet, but it really doesn’t. What it does, is add a note of toasted caramel to the wine, a slightly burnt taste that adds to the larger whole. It is so good, that I am going to go home and see if I can buy some kind of piloncillo that’s small enough to work for the single serving cup. I don’t know that I would try and make it for a crowd, I’ll leave that to the professionals, but I do love lighting things on fire as my wife will, sighing heavily, attest to.

All of them were good, and Cologne in general was much more charming than I had been led to believe it would be, but it was there we came upon the best market of them all:

The old town market.

We stopped there simply because it was the next place on the little train that takes you from market to market, but I was immediately captured by it. Busy and crowded, people miling around each other like little bees, the hum of their voices uniting into a low buzz. A violin plays “Come Emmanuel” at the door, and the long, high voice of it carries above and weaves through. The bright and bustle as the lights glow against the darkness, fairytale in the way that I could never hope to describe to another human being. I had to take a breath as i stepped inside. It was a Christmas market as you imagine them, a watercolor made real, the cold of the air touching your cheeks, the smell of mulled wine in the air, all of it immediate and total. All of it something that somehow seemed a dream, as if i’d been pulled into a book though admittedly in my fairy story slightly less people would be wearing beanies and puffy jackets, but what is fantasy without a little grime on it?

In this one it also seemed that the traders had been vetted to some extent in the main square, and so was near-exclusively people who had made the objects in their booths. We spoke to people when possible, given my hilariously limited German, about their stuff, and gawked at it, and I bought a little mug for my daughter with her name on it, that the woman painted right in front of us.

Whether the rest of the markets were a disappointment*** or not was hardly material at this point, because my mother was so entranced by the old market. She spoke of it all the time on the trip, as we were going through other markets, as we sat in a pub, as we put on our pajamas. I think it will probably take the crown for experiences on this trip. I can think of only a few that might unseat it. My mother’s face as we wandered through the market was all the confirmation I needed that this was the right choice.

And so I am delighted to inform myself that Germany was a success. I said I would never return there, I let myself be talked into it, and I had a wonderful time.

*This sounds like a complaint, but is full of delight. I have two favorite things to do when I travel: Walk miles and miles around a city (absolutely not happening here, there is a hot short list of people in my life who can walk as fast and far as I can) and go to pubs, bars, etc where there are a fair amount of locals and people like to talk. See my unwieldy essay on how much I like people for reference.

**The best mulled wine I had, however, does in fact go to the UK. Specifically, Peacock’s Tea Room in Ely had the absolute best mulled wine I had in the entire trip, the seasoning was exceptional, it was not overly sweet, the cup contained some soaked fruit and sliced almonds, it was truly exceptional and I know I’ll be trying to style my mulled wine off it for a long while.

***Things are rarely a true disappointment to me because I operate on the idea that everything in life is a lesson, is information, and if it wasn’t what I built up in my head, that is information, and it’s information I can pass on to others. Sometimes i love a miserable story as much as a successful one. Attitude can change the color of many situations, and I tend to be very adpatable and cheerful, and also i froze to death or it was crowded or whatever whatever is more often than not, not what I will carry away from any given situation. But, this is somewhat unique to me and I’ve spent a long time cultivating a sense of appreciation for these things, so I felt a little bad for my mom.

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yagirlwrites · 2 years

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Wild Summer (Part 3)

Series Masterlist

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Reader, Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N and JJ have fun in the supply room. Rafe figures out what happened between her and the pogue and he's not happy about it.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), sub!JJ, dom!Reader, oral (f + m receiving), rough sex, semi-public sex, pain kink (slight), unprotected sex (y/n is on the pill), angst, jealous!Rafe in the end

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Hiii! This part contains JJ smut, followed by jealous Rafe confronting Y/N about his feelings. These crazy kids' journeys are only beginning! As I've said, this series will feature several OBX characters. I hope you enjoy it and do let me know if you like the concept of this series and would like to see more!

My work is my own; it’s not to be copied, transferred or translated (but reblogs are welcome).

Happy reading! 🥰

Wild Summer (Part 3)

"I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name. Can you do that?" JJ gulped at her question, the words igniting a fire inside of him.

He could tell she was aching for a distraction over something. He wouldn't judge, he'd done the same thing plenty of times. So he nodded his head and grabbed her face in his hands, crashing his lips against hers.

Their tongues met and he pulled her closer. She tasted of mimosas and smelled like strawberries - it was a delicious combination. Their tongues danced together, battling for domination, neither willing to relent. She bit down on his bottom lip and he groaned. She was wearing him down and he liked it.

"Your wish is my command, princess." He whispered against her lips and she sighed in pleasure as his mouth made it's way down her neck. This was good. This was what she needed.

He left wet, hot kisses over her neck and collar bones, grazing her skin with his teeth, making her tug on his hair in response. She was breathing heavily, her chest moving against his. The thin material of her sundress gave him the opportunity to feel exactly how turned on she was, her nipples hard already. He groaned as he bit down on her shoulder and she gasped at the audacity of his actions. She pulled him off her by his hair, roughly - and he moaned at the feeling. She was so hot when she was pissed off.

He smirked at her and her pupils dilated. He was asking for trouble. Little did he know, she'd deliver more of it than he could imagine. She tugged his hair harder and he groaned, no longer smirking but looking at her in surprise. He was incredibly turned on with her taking control of the situation, his dick straining against his pants painfully.

"You like to be hurt?" She was looking right into his eyes as she posed the question and he gulped at the intensity of it all. He didn't really advertise all his kinks so her reading him like that really shook him. He projected the image of a guy who likes control but nothing got him harder than the idea of being used. Somehow she could see right through him. He wanted her to be rough. Wanted her to fuck him. He needed it so badly he almost begged. But he didn't. He still had his pride after all.

"Are you a subby little boy? Huh?" She was teasing him, both with her words and her movements. She was scratching at the back of his neck and looking at him with dark eyes that made him want to get down on his knees for her.

When he didn't respond she tugged at his hair again, harder, drawing a whimper out of him. "I asked you something." He nodded his head rapidly, too turned on to find his words. "Yes?" "Y-yes." She hummed in response.

She looked him over for a moment, he was panting in anticipation. So hard he wanted to burst. And then she was pushing him down by his head, until his knees hit the floor and he was looking up at her with hungry eyes. "You gonna make me cum, baby?" He nodded, wide eyes, licking his lips in preparation for what's to come.

"Go on then. Better make it good if you wanna cum too." Her words had his eyes rolling back. She was so filthy and it was driving him insane. She widened her legs for him and he didn't need to be told twice, flipping her dress up and diving in head first.

He kissed her thighs and hips until he finally made contact with her panty-clad core. He licked her clit over the cotton fabric and her eyes closed in relief. He was looking up at her, needing to see her reactions, to know just how good he was making her feel. He didn't play around too much, slipping his hands under the band of her underwear and pulling it down her legs quickly. She stepped out of them and he stuffed them into his back pocket, not wanting to waste a second more before tasting her.

He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and buried his face in her heat, finally giving her the sweet release she'd been craving. He moved expertly on her; licking and sucking on her lips, nudging her clit with his nose, lapping up her excitement eagerly. He was moaning into her pussy as he worked her, and it drove her crazy. The vibrations paired with his ministrations felt so fucking good she wanted to be loud, to reward him. But she couldn't. They were still in his place of work and her family was not 50 feet away, clueless as to what she was getting up to with the bartender. It turned her on so much.

He watched her sigh and pant above him as he ate her expertly, her head falling back against the wall, fingers burying into his hair. His tongue made its way into her heat and she gasped, louder than she intended, causing his cock to twitch. She was biting down on her lip to suppress her moans as he started sucking on her clit right before two fingers made their way deep inside her. And then he was pumping into her, licking and sucking and biting on her clit and she had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep quiet.

He felt so fucking high on it - seeing the pure pleasure he was bringing her was so hot he could barely stand it. He was louder than her, letting out moans and groans into her pussy as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. He didn't care if someone caught them, didn't care that he'd definitely be fired or even arrested if someone walked in on them. The view of her falling apart for him was all he cared about in that moment.

She started clutching on his fingers and he knew she was close so he picked up speed and force, working her harder, sucking her deeper. And then her nails dug into his scalp and she was shaking and twitching on him. She came so hard that his face was drenched and he wanted to curse at how sexy the whole thing was.

He cleaned her up with his mouth, enjoying the taste for as long as he could while she tried catching her breath, legs feeling like jelly after her climax.

Her eyes opened and she looked down at him - so damn pretty on his knees for her. His face was shiny with her release and it ignited a new fire in her. She pulled him up by his shirt and kissed him. Hard, needy, so turned on they were both struggling to breathe. She tasted herself on his tongue and moaned at the absolutely erotic feeling of it. He was gripping her waist, trying to keep himself together, the whole thing overwhelming his senses.

Her hand cupped him over his pants and he moaned into her mouth. He was so hard it was painful and she decided enough was enough. She made quick work of undoing his pants, pushing them down his thighs and massaging him over his boxers. He was letting out delicious whimpers and moans at her actions and they were making her feel high.

She pulled his underwear down, finally releasing his cock and he wanted to sigh in relief. She looked him over, all panting and flushed and hard for her - so red, tip wet with precum - and she groaned at the sight.

She pulled him back by his hair and kissed his neck as she started pumping him. He was putty in her hands and she was on an adrenaline high. It was so hot, the way he relinquished control to her. So hot she couldn't wait any longer. She rubbed his tip and he whined, causing a smirk to make its way onto her face. So fun to play with. She wanted to drag it out longer but they were on a clock after all, and she really wanted to feel him.

"You're gonna fuck me now. Yes?" He was moaning and nodding, so lost in lust it was hard to find his breath. "Yes?" She repeated and he struggled to find his words. "Ye-yes. Yes." His voice was trembling and it was the sexiest thing.

She wrapped her leg around him, pulling him closer, their cores touching. He was a mess, she was driving him absolutely insane and he didn't mind it one bit.

"Make it hard. I wanna feel you for days." His eyes rolled to the back of his head at her filthy orders. He groaned and nodded, kissing her lips in hopes she won't force him to speak again cause he didn't think he could.

He picked her up, legs wrapped around him, cock pressing into her soaked heat. She leaned half back against the wall and her fingers found their way into his hair again. She loved tugging on it, it was so fun, with his reactions always being so immediate.

He positioned himself at her entrance but before he could push in she pulled his hair to make him look at her. "You don't cum until I say so. Got it?" Fuck, he wanted to cry at how hot that was and how hard it was making him. He didn't think he'd ever been harder in his life.

"Yeah." He mumbled before he pushed inside her. And then they were both letting out desperate pants and low moans, trying so hard to stay quiet but so high on the feeling their self control was slipping.

He was following her orders - fucking her hard and deep, swallowing her moans, squeezing her ass and trying not to pass out from her rough tugs on his hair and the way she clenched around him. It was hot and sloppy and rough and needy and it felt so fucking good. So good that they were both approaching their highs a lot quicker than they expected.

The items on the shelves shook with how hard he was fucking her against the wall. Her nails were digging into his neck and shoulders, drawing groans from deep inside of him. If anyone passed the door they definitely would have known exactly what was going on inside. But they didn't give a shit. It felt too damn good that the risk was worth it.

She started clenching harder, getting closer to the peak and he slipped one hand between them to roughly rub at her clit. That was all it took for her to fall off the edge as she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her screams, her climax rushing through her. It was so intense her eyes rolled back and she was definitely drawing blood with how hard her nails were pressing into his back.

He fucked her through her orgasm, twitching inside her from the intensity of her grip on his cock. He was so pussy drunk he could hardly handle it - so fucking close and he was trying so hard to stay in control, to wait for her say so.

As soon she came down from her high she was pushing him off of her. He was confused at how quickly she jumped down from him, leaving him hard and cold. It didn't take long for him to realize what she was doing as her knees hit the ground and her lips wrapped around his cock. The sight alone had him moaning. Her movements on him having him on the edge in no time.

She was sucking on him so good, tasting her own juices on his dick and moaning around him. He was whimpering with pleasure. She reached down and rubbed his balls and he was right there but she realized he was still holding back. And then she figured out why.

She pulled back, catching her breath. "Cum for me." And as soon as her lips wrapped back around him he did. He came inside her mouth, grunts leaving him as his climax took over and his knees buckled.

He came so hard he felt like he was floating. Her mouth moving on him, working him through his orgasm. It was absolute euphoria. She sucked on him hard, drawing out every last drop until she was sure he was finished. She pulled off of him, opening her mouth to show him his cum swirling in it. He whimpered at the sight - so pornographic he couldn't believe it was happening. And then she swallowed and licked her lips, making sure to get every drop. She licked him clean as his hands against the wall held him upright so he wouldn't fall.

She got up and kissed him, making him taste himself on her tongue and he moaned into her mouth. He swore her middle name must have been Trouble because she was crazy and he loved it.

She pulled away smiling at him, brushing back the hair that fell onto his forehead as they caught their breaths. She was so beautiful he could hardly believe she was real. He found himself smiling too, post orgasm high making them both giddy. She kissed him again, a sweet kiss that almost had him questioning if what just happened was real or if he'd imagined it. But the taste of him on her mouth was more than enough to convince him it was. He moaned into the kiss and she pulled back grinning.

She put her dress back in place and tried to fix her hair with her hands. He was still trying to steady his breathing, just looking at her in awe. She saw him and smirked. That damned smirk that started it all. Trouble.

"You should probably get dressed." She nodded her head down and he realized he was still standing there with his pants down and cock out. He blushed and she laughed reaching down to help him put his underwear back on.

"You're cute when you blush, you know?" She helped him buckle himself back up, his fingers still shaky. His cheeks were bright red now and it was endearing. A simple compliment made him react like that after everything they had just done. Fucking adorable.

She fixed his shirt for him and stood back looking him over, just to make sure he looked presentable enough to go back out into the world. His bow tie was crooked so she reached up to fix it. His eyes were focused on her, too in trance to do anything else but look. Look at this stunning woman in front of him. This filthy, troublesome, beautiful woman.

Her eyes snapped up to see him staring and she cocked a brow. "You're so pretty." She chuckled at his words and kissed his cheek, making him blush all over again. "So are you." She grinned and stepped back, turning round to unlock the door.

His mind finally caught up to him before she managed to turn the handle and he grasped her by the arm, gently. She turned around in question and he pulled her panties from his back pocket handing them to her. She smirked and shook her head leaving him confused.

"Keep 'em. You can give them back to me next time." And with that she opened the door and left him standing there, clutching her underwear, in pure shock over what just happened. Someone passed by the door and he quickly snapped out of it, tucking her panties back into his pocket and fighting off another boner that was quickly starting to form. Trouble.

She passed a mirror on her way back and took a second to fix her appearance. Her cheeks held a healthy flush and she was glowing with that post sex glow. She was sated and feeling happy. But that all came crashing down as soon as she stepped back into the dining hall and reality came flooding back.

Quickly making her way back to her seat, she tried hard not to meet his eye. She could feel his gaze burning into her and she knew - he knew what she'd been up to. And for some reason she felt shitty. She knew she didn't owe him anything. They'd had a one night stand, had no right to each other. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong. She had every right to sleep with whomever and do whatever she wanted.

And yet, the overwhelming guilt bubbling inside of her was claiming different. She felt ashamed and she hated herself for it. For letting him get to her like that. Because it had worked. She hadn't thought of him once when she was with JJ. She felt good and had fun. And she was going to be damned if she let this make her feel bad about herself. No way. She was a grown ass woman, with every right to enjoy herself and she wasn't going to let some guy have that kind of power over her.

Her eyes finally met his. Her resolve clear. She was not letting that guilt make itself at home. She was not some little girl, desperate to belong to a guy. Her plan remained the same; having as much fun as she could this summer before going back to her life and being responsible again.

Rafe could see it in her eyes - she didn't feel bad about it. It seemed for a while like she had, like she was struggling with something in her head. But it seemed she decided not to be bothered about hurting him or making him jealous. And that should have told him that she really didn't care, that she didn't feel the same things he did, that she was done with him. But all it did was make his resolve stronger. He wouldn't accept that, not just like that, not without speaking his piece. Not without showing her just how much he wanted her. Not without trying for her. For them.

He didn't care if she fucked every pogue on the island. He still wanted her. More than he wanted anything in his life. And as much as it hurt, he knew she wasn't in the wrong. He had no right to her, no monopoly. But he wasn't giving up without a fight. He would show her exactly why he was the only one she needed.

Whatever was going on at the table with his friends, Rafe didn't care. Whatever was going on at the table with her family, she didn't care. They were staring at each other, unwilling to relent. As if whoever blinked first admitted defeat. It was perhaps childish and ridiculous but there they were. And the more their eyes stayed on each other's, the more they were both feeling deep inside. The tension, the chemistry, that magnetic pull was still there, as strong as ever. Like it was oxygen in their lungs or iron in their blood. It was undeniable, powerful and real.

Eventually they did break contact, neither knew who it was that blinked first but they were pulled back into conversations at their respective tables, their companions none the wiser of the storms brewing inside of them. And as time passed, they felt the other's eyes on their bodies but they didn't meet again. Not until her family was ready to leave and panic stirred within him. He needed to talk to her. He couldn't just let her leave again without saying anything.

She gave him an intense and calculating look before she spun on her heels and followed her parents out of the club. He jumped up from his seat, leaving Topper and Kelce confused as he made to follow her without a word of explanation. All he could think about was catching up to her. Nothing else mattered.

He hurried out the door of the Island Club and laid eyes on her just as she was unlocking her car. Her parents were still chatting with their associates at a separate vehicle and he took the chance to corner her. He couldn't wait until the next time they accidentally ran into each other. He needed to talk to her now.

He crossed the parking lot in quick strides, reaching her just as she was opening her door. He pushed it closed and she jumped, startled. It took half a second for the scowl to reach her face and he was cursing under his breath. Why did she have to look so god damn adorable while she was mad. While he was mad at her. Fuck!

She stood her ground giving him a look that said - better speak now before I slam this door in your face. She cocked a brow at his dumbstruck expression and silence, rolling her eyes and grabbing the handle again. He grasped her shoulders and turned her around, crowding her against the car with his hands on either side of her.

The breeze blew through her hair and that sweet smell of strawberries and cream invaded his senses making him close his eyes. That damn scent. The same one that had all but disappeared from his pillow from the time they showered together and his hair smelled like hers. He had been breathing it in for two whole days trying to envision her by his side, to pretend she was there. And even though she wasn't, the scent lingered. It drove him insane.

He took a deep breath, forcing his eyes open. She was looking at him with a mix of confusion and excitement running through her veins. He was so close, his warmth enveloping her just like it had that night at the beach. She wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. Dangerous.

This was exactly why she needed to stay away from him. When he was close she couldn't think straight, she wanted to fall into him and never let go. Which is why him being so persistent was starting to piss her off. She was holding onto her sanity by a thin fucking thread and the more he chased her the closer she was to falling off the edge and crashing into a bottomless pit of feelings, hurt and heartbreak.

She made to push him away, get him out of her personal space, to breathe air that wasn't so infused with him - but he caught her hands against his chest and she didn't have the strength to do it anymore. She wanted to cry. Why couldn't he leave her be? Why couldn't he just move on and let her live in peace? Let her forget and move on from this? It was impossible.

His eyes were desperately searching hers, taking in every freckle on her face. Feeling the warmth of her wrists in his hands, like fire on his skin. He wanted to kiss her so badly his entire body was aching for it. Wanted to drop to his knees and beg her to give him a chance. To cry and hug her and never let go. It was impossible.

"Rafe..." His name leaving her lips sounded like a prayer. He wanted to melt into her right there and then. But she was pushing at him, finally gathering some of her strength.

She managed to push him a foot away and took a breath in hopes she'd feel stronger. But his essence still remained in the air around her, as if mocking her for thinking it would be so easy breaking from his spell. She almost cried - feeling weak and pathetic - like she needed him to hold her and she hated that. Hated feeling like that. So vulnerable, so small.

When she looked up at him her eyes were glossy and his heart clenched at the sight. She was hurting too. He could see it clearly then. She felt something too and she could deny it all she wanted but it was written on her face and the way she held back tears. She was stubborn. So damn stubborn. And so, so beautiful.

He cupped her cheek with one hand and she had to refrain from leaning into his touch. Instead she pulled back and crossed her arms over her chest in hopes of creating a boundary between them. Any kind of safety net between him and her aching heart.

He let his arms fall back at his sides and clenched his fists to keep from touching her. They stood there for what could have been a moment or a century, they couldn't say. Her parents had left without sparing them a second glance and she wasn't surprised but a sliver of anger coursed through her. Now she was alone with him. All alone in this big parking lot with no one to save her from herself. Dangerous.

"I missed you." His words were soft, full of longing and something else she wasn't ready to read into. When her eyes met his again they were eerily empty. No longer on the verge of tears. She was closed up tight like a safe and it left him frustrated. Why did she have to make it all so difficult?

"It's been two days." Her voice was cool, steady, not giving anything away. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for a second." He was putting it out there. It shook her how open and vulnerable he was being, she wasn't used to it. It didn't seem like he was either, given how awkward he looked. But he wasn't holding back. He was being honest. It terrified her because she could feel herself melting and her walls were make believe as it was, she didn't know how much of it she could take.

"It'll pass." There it was. The cut. The only way she knew how to push him away was to make it hurt. And she hated herself for it. Hated the look on his face when she said it. Hated the way he swallowed his pain down. Hated how small he looked while towering over her. Hated it all.

But he wasn't giving up yet. "I don't think so." He closed the gap between them, not quite touching but right there, a breath away. She could feel it. Feel him slipping past her defenses, the facade, making his way inside like a vice taking over her system. It was scary how easily she could feel him inside her chest and heart and she wanted to kiss him. So badly. But it was her head that was desperately trying to grasp the threads that the universe seemed to want to manipulate in his favor - trying to change course, to protect her.

"Give it a few more days." He took a deep breath at that, trying to keep his temper in check. Her feigned indifference was so blatantly obvious and it was making him angry. He was trying so hard. Opening up to her the way he never had with anyone before. So desperately trying to get her to admit she felt something for him too. Just to give him that little bit of hope that he wasn't alone in it. Some fucking silver lining to hold onto.

"You think if I go fuck someone else right now I'll feel better?" She looked like he slapped her. "Do you? Feel better?" She had to swallow down the sting that came with her thinking of him actually moving on with someone else. Took everything in her to convince herself that that was exactly what he should do. He needed to move on and give her a chance to put herself back together. To breathe. To let him go.

"If that's what works, yeah. Fuck me out of your system and you'll be okay." She gave him a fake smile and tried turning around but he pushed her onto the car, trapping her there. "Did it work for you? Hmm?" She gulped at the fire in his eyes and the way he was holding her so tight. "Did he fuck me out of your system?" She was holding back tears now. "Did he? Huh? Are you over me, now?" It hurt so bad to have him so close and so angry at her. So desperate to get her to let her guard down for one second. Just one second.

The way his eyes bore into hers, the way his body was pinning her against the car door, the way his hands were holding her as if she'd disappear if he let go, drove her mad. She could feel every muscle of his straining against her, every ridge of his hard body wired tight from frustration. Frustration at her; how stubborn she was, that pogue touching her, how fucking pretty she was, how good she smelled and how badly he wanted to remind her just how good it was when they were together.

It was like a spark was set alight with both their hurt and anger and it was spreading through every cell in their bodies. That pull, that stubborn, annoying, magnetic pull, making them shake with need and want. The tension at a breaking point. They were both wound up and breathing heavily. Him trying to stop himself from taking her right there. Her trying to stop herself from letting him.

She took a deep breath and shoved him off of her roughly. "Yes." Lie. Big fucking lie. "I am." He could see it. She was lying through her teeth.

"Yeah?" He got in her face again. "You sure about that, angel?" The pet name had her holding back a whimper, his energy so possessive and dangerous and hot. So hot. She wanted to curse her body for betraying her desire. Curse him for being so persistent in reading her like an open book.

"Yes." Her voice shook. Just a little. But enough for him to pick up on. And then he smirked and she knew she was fucked. That damned smirk made the tingles in her heat turn into a burning fire. She was so close to giving in and he knew it. He had her right where he wanted her.

"Yeah? So if I check right now your panties won't be soaked for me? Huh?" His filthy words nearly had her eyes rolling back. She needed to get control of the situation and she needed to do it now.

"No. They won't." The conviction in her voice took him by surprise. He could tell she was just as turned on as he was. So why did she sound so sure of herself?

She used his confusion to her advantage and pushed him off of her again. He didn't protest. Did she mean it? Was he wrong? Was it all in his head? And then her words nearly knocked him on his ass in shock.

"I'm not wearing any." His brain short circuited and he was left gaping at her like an idiot. She took advantage of it and quickly made her way inside her car, closing the door. By the time his brain rebooted she was turning the key in the ignition.

He wanted to stop her, to rip that door open and take her. Bend her over and bury himself inside her until she screamed for him and everyone, including Maybank, knew who she belonged to.

But she was backing up before he could and he was left standing there in the dust, panting, with a hard cock, wanting to scream with anger and arousal.

She knew exactly what she was doing, telling him that. She knew what his reaction would be. Knew it would drive him insane. But she also gave him the confirmation he had so desperately been searching for. She was just as into him as he was her. She was turned on, wet for him. She wanted to throw him off with her smart comment but she gave him exactly what he needed - hope. His resolve was stronger than ever. He was going to make her his. He would fight tooth and nail for her. Put his blood and sweat and tears into making them happen. Because she did feel it. He wasn't alone.

He grinned thinking that if that was how she wanted to play it, he would give as good as he got. He would drive her crazy until she finally accepted her feelings. He wasn't going anywhere. He was hers and she was his. He would make her see it soon enough.

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @r0und3bitch , @lurkymurker , @tianotfound , @wannabestarkeysgirl , @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess

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