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#based off that community gif
nailtagyuri · 1 year
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Grass Skirt Chase
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theboarsbride · 7 months
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THE BONES WE HAUNT - WIP Intro.
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Title: The Bones We Haunt.
Genre: Historical Fiction, Gothic horror, romance, novella.
Status: First Draft + development.
Synopsis:
November, 1905. 
While on holiday in Cambridge and attending museum lectures with her mother, Jane Sterling seeks to make this her chance to officially pursue her love of paleontology. While her family encourages the pursuit of passions and challenging rigid social norms, the institutes in place hinder her passion, making her resort to dressing brightly and speaking loudly for attention.
Jane's chance comes to reveal itself in the form of the wealthy and reclusive Sir Terence Hayes, who’s come in search for her father, the esteemed paleobotonist Dr. Samson Sterling, to appraise fossils found in his garden. Her mother eagerly volunteers Jane to go in Dr. Sterling’s place as he remains ill in America, and Terence brings her to his isolated family's estate in the vast, deep, muddy marshes of Wolf’s Run. And the land is shrouded in urban legends. There are whispers of 'The Wolf's Run Beast,' the 'Monster of the Marshes,' that haunts the land under the cover of night, and as Terence leaves Jane to her work he is hell-bent that she's to return to Cambridge before nightfall.
However, freak storms rage, causing the marshes' waters to rise and wash out the roads in flash floods before Jane has a chance to return, leaving her stranded at Wolf’s Run - and at the mercy of all that lurks there.
As night looms, the staff hastily depart, an eerie silence falls, Terence forbids her from even coming near the cellar, and, most importantly, he warns her against leaving her room before dawn. All is merely a strange act to Jane, brushing it off as the eccentricities of an Englishman, until something comes scratching at her door, hungering for her blood.
What started as a mere chance at becoming known swiftly becomes a tumultuous game of blood, teeth, survival, love, and salvation - and Jane must prepare to sharpen teeth of her own if she's to survive the horrors of the Wolf's Run marshes.
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surprise surprise, another WIP inspired by Jojo's need to turn every DILF she falls in love with into a love interest in a monster romance-adjacent book! 🥰 This one's victim??? Ciaran Hinds as a brooding but sweet capital 'r' Romantic were-beast/werewolf-ish creature. 😍 The vibes for this WIP are, like... 90s gothic period drama.... bluebeard meets 'mexican gothic' meets company of the wolves meets 'the death of jane lawrence'... and i've only known this WIP for 3 days and I'm already obsessed, help-
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unpretty · 1 year
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Thanks for recommending Cassette Beasts, got an hour in before the worst 4th dimensional marionette explicitly said it wanted to make me its fucked up little hand puppet, incredibly on brand and 10/10, vibes immaculate and garden thriving.
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hallasimss · 3 months
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i uh. no.
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cryxdraws · 2 years
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Been experimenting with animation with some Phantom hc’s :D
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nimue-hidden-lake · 7 months
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I dunno what is hitting me all of a sudden... But her... I wanna place her on my list somewhere... I just don't know exactly where yet.
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She is cute though... Have I reached the point where not even the Player character is save!?
Ok fair she does need more love.
Damn, I really want almost 50% of the cast /j
Also I was aware of Anzu week during October but sadly decided not to due to having intended to do another prompt month (which I still kinda do). I considered though. Maybe next year.
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oreoniiko · 2 years
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*insert dale's really bad rap song from the movie*
that movie was,,,something😣😣 anyways,,
In all seriousness, I've had my chip 'n dale sona for quite sometime and I was lucky to find someone who has one as well! Dale is so adorable I love goofy bois😍💖
Featuring @candyheartedchy 's sona! Hope you enjoy this little gift!❤
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neo-nomatrix · 4 months
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The Olive Theory
Luke Castellan x Reader
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word count: 641
summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”
a/n: based on the olive theory from himym
@repostingmyfavs
There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.
You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.
Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.
Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.
You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.
Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.
“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.
Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.
“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.
His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”
You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.
“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.
Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.
“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.
“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.
“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.
“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.
You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.
“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.
“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.
“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.
Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
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“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
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sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months
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Zombie! Ghost NSFW Headcanons
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Warnings: 18+, Zombie Fucking, Monster Fucking, Zombie! Ghost, Human! Reader, Zombie Anatomy, Cockwarming, Unprotected Sex, Stagnant Semen, Stomach Bulge, Stomach Swelling, Mention of Breeding, Engorged Penis, Brief Worry of Infection, Mentions of Blood, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
Zombie!Ghost who’s been travelling with you for the last couple of months or so.
Zombie! Ghost who wasn’t like all the other infected — he retained most of his autonomy with only his body succumbing to the disease, blood smattered down his tactical gear, eyes milky.
Zombie!Ghost who, though he can’t speak, can still communicate via growls, gurgles and groans, as well as body language, albeit in a stiff manner.
Zombie!Ghost who, despite existing in a decaying body, has retained most of his human, primal urges. Even had some of them enhanced.
Zombie!Ghost who, though you might not know it, rocks himself into his hand when the night is quiet, your name and face on his mind amidst the buzz of the virus telling him to act on his base instincts to eat, feed and breed.
Zombie!Ghost who sees that, much to his lethargic delight, this was the case for you, too.
On many a night had he caught you with something hard between your legs, trying desperately to alleviate the the knots below your stomach.
Zombie!Ghost who, one night, after a long day of running from the undead and hiding in an enclosed space with you, chest to chest as you both waited for the horde to pass, found that palming himself did nothing to rid him of the aching feeling between his legs.
Zombie!Ghost who can sense that you’re the same: all that excess adrenaline and pent-up sexual frustration permeated the air with scent only a creature like Ghost could smell. A scent which he followed to the door of your room.
He knocked. Once. Heard you shuffling, scurrying, before clearing your throat, telling him to “Come in,”
Zombie! Ghost who can see your hasty attempt to cover yourself, your pants pulled up with such speed that you’d neglected to zip them back up, the hem of your underwear showing between the open space.
Zombie!Ghost who sees your eyes flicker to his trousers, widen slightly, before returning to his eyes.
Zombie!Ghost who wastes no time, kicking the door shut behind him and taking heavy, deliberate steps towards you.
Zombie! Ghost whose hand slithers down his front to the bulge between his legs, never taking his eyes off yours as he squeezes it, letting out a guttural groan.
Zombie! Ghost who knows you’re intelligent enough to pick up what he’s putting down. Even if you are stunned into momentary silence.
Zombie! Ghost who feels something in him grow warm when you look up at him with wide eyes, asking him, tentatively: “But…won’t I get infected?”
Zombie! Ghost who shakes his head, for he can do little more to put your mind at ease save for leaving and never proposing such a thing again.
Zombie! Ghost who sees you mulling it over in your mind, though he can tell by the rampant heat coming from between your thighs, the tantalising scent of your hormones thickening in the air, that your mind is already made up.
Zombie! Ghost who approaches with a rabid look in his eyes, coming to stand right where you need him.
Zombie! Ghost who has to bite back a growl when he feels your fingers brush him through his clothes, taking the zipper of his pants between your fingers and pulling it down.
Zombie! Ghost who, after having himself freed of his tactical gear, lies back on the bed, watching your mouth drop open as you see his swollen, drooling, stiffened cock for the first time, blackened veins running up the shaft. Pulsating. Something viscous and almost white oozes from the tip.
Zombie! Ghost who has to resist the urge to buck his hips when you come to straddle him, your pants and underwear abandoned somewhere on the mattress.
Zombie! Ghost who shudders when his tip meets your heat, the first semblance of warmth he’s felt since his un-death.
Zombie! Ghost who, even with his vocal cords having thoroughly decayed, lets out a carnal growl as you take him, sinking down onto his tip and wincing at the coldness — the size — of him.
Zombie! Ghost who can only wait for you to adjust to his girth and his lack of temperature as you sink further, a bulge in your stomach forming.
Zombie! Ghost who can feel you squeezing around him, already coaxing him to forfeit his restraint and pump you full of the stagnant semen all but bursting from his engorged ballsack. The consequence of not having an outlet for weeks.
Zombie! Ghost who gasps, back arching against the mattress, his gloved bands coming to grip your waist while he grinds up into you, desperate to feel more of your warmth.
Zombie! Ghost who can barely hold it together (literally) as you rock yourself on his cock, whimpering and gasping as he fills every ounce of space your body can give him.
Zombie! Ghost who can see that this is the turning point for your relationship — that the two of you have entered something you wouldn’t be able to explain to others even if you wanted to. If there was anyone left to explain it to.
Zombie! Ghost who, the longer and harder you rock against him, lifting yourself and dropping again back onto him, feels himself start to come undone, starts to feel the all-too human tremours and electricity — the tell-tale signs of a release.
Zombie! Ghost who, when he sees you try to pull away, try to stop him from splattering your insides with his seed, tightens his grip on your waist, keeping you flush against him.
Zombie! Ghost who, despite his lethargy, bucks up into you. Despite your protests, your begging for him to “Pull out — please!” knows it’s far too late as his eyes squeeze shut and his body spasms.
You’re filled with a wet coldness that can’t possibly be mistaken for anything else. And what’s more, there’s tons of it. You’re sure the sheer amount of semen Ghost is pumping you full of is going to leave your stomach swollen for days to come.
Zombie! Ghost who bounces you on his dick until he feels you cum, hears you cry out, sees you go limp, his hands keeping you upright.
Zombie! Ghost who, in the panting, sweating, sweltering aftermath, lays you beside him, his cock still deep inside you, a parasite in its own right as it sought and fed from your warmth.
Zombie! Ghost who brings an arm around you, pulling your back to his front, his face in your hair.
Zombie! Ghost who, tiring now, wonders if you’d have been together like this when he was a human, when he was alive.
Zombie! Ghost who wonders how he’s managed to live without you in the first place. Who knows now he’ll do anything to make sure that never happens.
Zombie! Ghost who can feel that you’ve fallen into a deep slumber, your breathing steady.
Zombie! Ghost who wonders how much of his strength, his load, you can take — where and when you’ll get yourself off on him next.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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bbygyal123 · 9 months
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the aesthetic collection ♡
i'm back with more prints, this time a lil collection !!
this set is based off 3 diff aesthetics that i see alot of in the community and felt like we were missing some prints to match ♡
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download info : patreon or curseforge
cc styling creds : @harrie-cc @felixandresims @pierisim @myshunosun @simplistic-sims4 @awingedllama ...
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samwisethewitch · 21 days
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Homemaking, gardening, and self-sufficiency resources that won't radicalize you into a hate group
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It seems like self-sufficiency and homemaking skills are blowing up right now. With the COVID-19 pandemic and the current economic crisis, a lot of folks, especially young people, are looking to develop skills that will help them be a little bit less dependent on our consumerist economy. And I think that's generally a good thing. I think more of us should know how to cook a meal from scratch, grow our own vegetables, and mend our own clothes. Those are good skills to have.
Unfortunately, these "self-sufficiency" skills are often used as a recruiting tactic by white supremacists, TERFs, and other hate groups. They become a way to reconnect to or relive the "good old days," a romanticized (false) past before modern society and civil rights. And for a lot of people, these skills are inseparably connected to their politics and may even be used as a tool to indoctrinate new people.
In the spirit of building safe communities, here's a complete list of the safe resources I've found for learning homemaking, gardening, and related skills. Safe for me means queer- and trans-friendly, inclusive of different races and cultures, does not contain Christian preaching, and does not contain white supremacist or TERF dog whistles.
Homemaking/Housekeeping/Caring for your home:
Making It by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen [book] (The big crunchy household DIY book; includes every level of self-sufficiency from making your own toothpaste and laundry soap to setting up raised beds to butchering a chicken. Authors are explicitly left-leaning.)
Safe and Sound: A Renter-Friendly Guide to Home Repair by Mercury Stardust [book] (A guide to simple home repair tasks, written with rentals in mind; very compassionate and accessible language.)
How To Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis [book] (The book about cleaning and housework for people who get overwhelmed by cleaning and housework, based on the premise that messiness is not a moral failing; disability and neurodivergence friendly; genuinely changed how I approach cleaning tasks.)
Gardening
Rebel Gardening by Alessandro Vitale [book] (Really great introduction to urban gardening; explicitly discusses renter-friendly garden designs in small spaces; lots of DIY solutions using recycled materials; note that the author lives in England, so check if plants are invasive in your area before putting them in the ground.)
Country/Rural Living:
Woodsqueer by Gretchen Legler [book] (Memoir of a lesbian who lives and works on a rural farm in Maine with her wife; does a good job of showing what it's like to be queer in a rural space; CW for mentions of domestic violence, infidelity/cheating, and internalized homophobia)
"Debunking the Off-Grid Fantasy" by Maggie Mae Fish [video essay] (Deconstructs the off-grid lifestyle and the myth of self-reliance)
Sewing/Mending:
Annika Victoria [YouTube channel] (No longer active, but their videos are still a great resource for anyone learning to sew; check out the beginner project playlist to start. This is where I learned a lot of what I know about sewing.)
Make, Sew, and Mend by Bernadette Banner [book] (A very thorough written introduction to hand-sewing, written by a clothing historian; lots of fun garment history facts; explicitly inclusive of BIPOC, queer, and trans sewists.)
Sustainability/Land Stewardship
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer [book] (Most of you have probably already read this one or had it recommended to you, but it really is that good; excellent example of how traditional animist beliefs -- in this case, indigenous American beliefs -- can exist in healthy symbiosis with science; more philosophy than how-to, but a great foundational resource.)
Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer [book] (This one is for my fellow witches; one of my favorite witchcraft books, and an excellent example of a place-based practice deeply rooted in the land.)
Avoiding the "Crunchy to Alt Right Pipeline"
Note: the "crunchy to alt-right pipeline" is a term used to describe how white supremacists and other far right groups use "crunchy" spaces (i.e., spaces dedicated to farming, homemaking, alternative medicine, simple living/slow living, etc.) to recruit and indoctrinate people into their movements. Knowing how this recruitment works can help you recognize it when you do encounter it and avoid being influenced by it.
"The Crunchy-to-Alt-Right Pipeline" by Kathleen Belew [magazine article] (Good, short introduction to this issue and its history.)
Sisters in Hate by Seyward Darby (I feel like I need to give a content warning: this book contains explicit descriptions of racism, white supremacy, and Neo Nazis, and it's a very difficult read, but it really is a great, in-depth breakdown of the role women play in the alt-right; also explicitly addresses the crunchy to alt-right pipeline.)
These are just the resources I've personally found helpful, so if anyone else has any they want to add, please, please do!
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lxkeee · 3 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
—PART FIVE
pairing: lucifer morningstar x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
notes: gotta keep writing to feed the simps.
PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX
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Lucifer sat in his office chair, pen on one hand as he finally did the paperwork that he was procrastinating on for... A few months now, but anyways.
He was deep in thought, the fountain pen fluidly moving along with his hand as he signed the documents. Mind wandering, dissociating even.
He has a lot to think about considering that the next extermination is coming in a few days.
His eyes landed on his right hand, ring finger bare of any rings. He smiled proudly to himself, it took some work to actually remove his wedding ring and he finally did, his divorce doesn't hurt as much as it used to be. He has a lot to work on, his heart, his mind, and his actions.
He's happy that he stopped staying stuck in the past and now, he's ready to move forward. He has let go of Lilith, as the woman wanted. But he'll never forget [y/n], despite the distance and lack of communication, he still thinks of her as his best friend and he's glad she never stopped thinking of him too.
Lucifer sighs, a small smile on his face. Smiling at the thought of her. His hand once again moved gracefully along the paper, ink rolling off the tip of the pen as he signed his signature.
He misses [y/n], he longs to hug her so much.
Knock, knock.
He flinches at the sound of the front door being knocked, the sounds echoing off the castle walls. He lives alone after all, so the palace is deathly silent.
Lucifer groans, rolling his eyes.
It's probably another solicitor or another sinner wanting to have an audience with him.
Choosing to ignore it and continue with his work.
Knock, knock, knock.
There it is again, the annoying sound of someone knocking on his front door.
He exhaled, continuing his work.
They'll go away if I ignore them, just like always.
He mutters to himself, huffing in annoyance as he works.
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[y/n] huffs to herself, crossing her arms around her chest. She's been knocking for a few minutes now and nobody answered.
I wonder if he's home?
She thought, standing outside the door. Hand running over the skirt of her light blue dress.
She waits for a few minutes, taking a deep breath. Trying to calm down her beating heart. Mentally practicing what she wants to say to him when she sees him.
Bringing her hand back up, forming into a tight knuckle. She knocked once more.
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Knock, knock, knock.
It took so much patience for him not to break the fountain pen on his hand. Lucifer gently brought down the pen on to his table. Bringing both his hands towards his mouth and nose as he exhaled exasperatedly. Closing his eyes, eye twitching a little.
I stand corrected, this sinner is persistent.
Taking a deep breath, he finally stood up from his chair, grumbling as he left his office. Going down the stairs.
Finally arriving at the front door of his, fixing his clothes to look presentable to whoever is at the other side. Raising his guard up as he doesn't trust other sinners.
Finally opening the door, eyes closed in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah. Who's there...” his voice died down when he opened his eyes again to see a familiar angel standing on his doorway, [y/n] looking at him awkwardly, waving her hand at him shyly.
Did he go insane without realizing?
[y/n] is standing on his doorway wearing a cute light blue short dress that reaches beneath her knees, halo no longer on her head but he can tell she used it as an accessory based on the golden bracelet on her wrist. She looked as beautiful as the day he last saw her. Though, he had a tint of worry as he noticed the bandages on her arms and knees. What happened to her?
Is this a hallucination?
“[y/n]...?” he asked hesitantly, afraid that she'll disappear and afraid she's just a fragment of his imagination.
[y/n] smiled, heart beating loudly against her chest. Lucifer stood in front of her. The white suit with red accents really fits him, he's just as beautiful as she last saw him, more even.
He is really here.../She is really here...
Finally deciding to break the silence between them, [y/n] smiled at him, “It has been awhile, Lucifer.”
Her voice was enough to snap him from his thoughts and without thinking, he leaped into her arms and hugged her. Tears finally streaming down his pale cheeks. The action causing both of them to fall into the floor.
The warmth of his embrace around her was also enough for [y/n] to silently cry. She misses him so much, so many years spent without him made her incredibly so lonely.
Lucifer grips into her waist, burying his face at the crook of her neck as he sobbed.
Lucifer wonders if this was a dream at first but he was able to inhale the familiar perfume she always wore and it was enough to make him cry even more.
It felt like the universe finally listened to his pleas. He was just thinking that he misses her so much a few minutes ago and then suddenly she's in his door step.
“[y/n].... You're really here... Wait...” his eyes widened as he finally removed himself from her warm embrace, holding her arms gently.
“Why are you here...?” he asked softly, voice hoarse from crying. [Y/n] wiped her eyes with her hand but he stopped her as Lucifer summoned a clean handkerchief and gently wiped the tears off her cheeks.
[y/n] smiled weakly, “I fell.” she says with a small giggle. Lucifer deadpans, eyes blinking not simultaneously. He stood up and offered a hand to her to help her stand in which she gladly accepted.
“What do you mean you fell? When?” he asked worriedly, [y/n] smiled softly as she placed a hand over his cheek. Thumb running over the red circle on his cheek adoringly.
“I have a lot to tell you but I fell... A few days ago... Charlie found me and she treated me during it all.” [y/n] explained softly, his eyes widening. Why didn't Charlie tell him?
[y/n] can practically hear the question based on his facial expression, she smiles. “Don't get mad at Charlie, I asked her not to tell you...” she says, avoiding eye contact.
He frowns, leaning towards her so he cups her cheeks, his other hand on her chin. He tilts her head so she's finally looking at him.
“Why...? I... I could've helped you...” he asked, voice trembling. Guilty for not being there for her in her most time of need. [Y/n] gently removed his hands from her face, squeezing it assuringly.
“Because I don't want our reunion to be a sad one, I can't bear to see you so sad and I don't want you to see how bad my situation was...” she explained softly, her thumb rubbing circles in his hand. He can only imagine what happened to her based on her injuries. She's right, he might not function properly if he saw her so injured.
Lucifer sighs, shoulders dropping as he understands her explanation. But still, he wished he could've helped her more.
“But hey, I'm here now and there's a lot that we needed to catch up on. Don't you think?” [y/n] says with a giggle, a small smile on her face. Lucifer could feel his cheeks burning up as he looked at her beautiful smiling face.
Lucifer closes his eyes as a grin finally finds its way to his handsome face, “You're right, you got a lot of explanation to do.” he says, offering his hand to her in which she accepted. He pulls her inside the palace, finally closing the door behind them.
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Currently, the two are in his room just catching up with one another. Lucifer's hands shined a golden glow over her arms, his angelic powers helping her heal. He listened intently as [y/n] explained what happened to her.
His heart thumped loudly against his chest as he listened how she defended hell and how she finally got under Sera's skin that led to her fall from grace.
“You really did that...?” he asked softly, his hand working gently with her arm as he unwrapped the bandages around her arm. Her arm finally healed after helping her. [Y/n] smiled softly and nodded, “I made a promise to help Charlie and Sera hid the yearly cleansing from the other angels. It was revealed during Charlie's meeting and I was mad.” [y/n] explained to him, his gentle eyes looking up at her as he healed her arm. “I said some things to her and got her mad and I was placed in a trial in which I ended up guilty.”
Lucifer frowns, softly placing down her hand onto her lap. “I wished I was there to help you.” he says softly to her and [y/n] smiled and patted his head.
“It's alright, what's done is done. What matters the most is that I'm here now...” she says, bringing her hand up to cup his cheeks.
“Yeah... But, I hope you know that I appreciate what you did for hell...” he says, nuzzling his face against the palm of her hand. Eyes half-lidded as he looked at her.
“I know and I'll do it again. I believe that the sinners deserve a second chance.” she says, her eyes landing on the many piles of rubber ducks in his room.
“On the sidenote, I see you haven't gotten over your love for ducks.” [y/n] giggles, his cheeks exploding into a bright shade of red as he felt a little embarrassed.
“I can't help it. They're just so cute.” he says with a small pout making [y/n] laugh softly.
“Don't be embarrassed about it, I'm just glad you haven't changed much.” she says smiling at him.
His eyes widened slightly and then he smiled, “I am glad that you haven't changed too.”
[y/n] smiles, turning her head to look around his room. Seeing the portraits of his family on the wall, they looked so happy. She's a little jealous.
“You and Lilith huh?” she teases him slightly, Lucifer flinches slightly and avoids her gaze. “Well... Used to, we've divorced each other seven years ago.” he says, finally looking at her.
[y/n]'s eyes widened, a frown on her face. She felt guilty bringing the topic up. “Oh... I didn't know, I'm sorry.” she says softly, her voice held a tone of regret. Lucifer smiled and shook his head, “Don't be, it was for the best.” he explained, “We just stopped loving each other, that's all.”
“How about we change the topic?” he suggested with a smile and [y/n] nodded, “Since you're here now... Do you plan to stay at the hotel or here with me?” he asked softly to her.
[y/n] blushes softly, the idea of being alone with Lucifer in a large palace seems so.... Intimate. Lucifer's cheeks also burned slightly as he realized what he just asked.
“Staying here with you? Won't I disturb you from your work?” she asked hesitantly, Lucifer shakes his head no.
“No, no, no... You would never be a disturbance to me [n/n]... I would be glad if you stayed here...” he spoke so softly, eyes pleading for her to accept.
[y/n] smiles, she can practically read him like a book. Despite being years apart, their connection never faded.
“Alright, since you looked like you're begging me to stay.” she giggled softly, looking at him with so much fondness.
Lucifer can only stare at her face, she's looking at him like he's the most beautiful being in the universe.
Don't look at me like that, I don't want to fall too fast.
Lucifer blushes slightly, clearing his throat. “I just miss you, that's all.” he says, avoiding her gaze making her chuckle, “I've missed you too.” she says softly.
“I am really happy to see you again, it's been so long.” he whispers, wrapping his arms around her. “I am so happy to be back in your arms...” she murmurs back to him. Lacing her hand with his with him squeezing her hand gently in return.
They have a lot of catching up to do, a lot of feelings to uncover.
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END NOTES: the handholding before marriage finally happened lmfaoo 😭 also imma try not to make their relationship fast paced okay, awkward friends to lovers idk. This chapter feels shorter than usual, meh.
TAGLIST I:
@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers
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zeldasnotes · 3 months
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𝖓𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖞 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 ☠️
18+
𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢
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Blac Chyna got a Scorpio MC and Sun 8th house in her Fama(408) Persona Chart which makes sense since she is the highest paid non musician Only Fans creator. In October 2023 she was the top earning creator of all on Only Fans.
Earth placements🌱 tend to like the touching/sensing/moaning part during sex while Air placements🌬️ tend to be very visual & communicative. Fire placements🔥tend to value the pace and feeling. Water placements💧 value the emotional undercurrents. So air placements might care more about how the partner looks and be turn on by the appearance while Taurus gets turned on by how you feel & sound. Water placements get turned on based on the emotional undercurrents like for example scorpio placements can get extra turned on if its forbidden.
Venus 2nd house synastry seem to make yall want to kiss & do oral sex a lot more than you usually would with someone else. (Please confirm this if you had this in synastry w someone)
Mars conjunct Chiron in both synastry and composite makes the sex amazing. That soulmerging healing kind of sex.
Mars conjunct Reiki(5239) in the natal chart might make people feel changed/healed after they slept with you.
Eros(433) conjunct Neptune might mean a lot of people fantasize about you, Ive seen it in a lot of the charts when i did my xxx stars post.
Libra Moon and Mars tend to care a lot about how their partner looks. Disharmony can really affect them and therefore make them very easily turned off. Not always ofc, other placements play a huge role too.
Lust(4386) or Eros(433) conjunct Moon seem to make someone constantly in the mood for some ”funny stuff”. It also tends to create the same effect in synastry.
If you watch ”adult movies” you will enjoy performers you have 8th house synastry with or the same Eros or Mars sign. They will most likely ”do it” in a way you like. There is usually a conjuntion from one of their personal planets to your Venus or Mars involved when it comes to your ”favorite star”.
I remember a famous youtuber answering which celebrity he would choose if he could only sleep with ONE celebrity. Ofc I checked his synastry with the celebrity he chose and he had a stellium in her 8th house.
Check the degree of your asteroid Eros. Eros at 2° can mean a sexy voice, good at oral, liking it slow and sensual, might even get paid for it.
Sorry I know Ive said it before but so many Sag Risings with Pluto in the 1st house look like the stereotypical ”sexy teacher” look.
Mars degree says more about what you enjoy in the bedroom. Mars in a Cancer degree might find pregnant people hot or enjoy sucking someones titties or having theirs sucked. 🍼
Mars 9th house might like to do it in risky places. 9th house and Sagittarius energy can make someone kinda reckless.
Fama(408) the goddess of rumor conjunct Eros(433) can indicate people will spread rumours about your sex life. Known for being sexy. People can be very curious about your sex life if you have this placement.
People with Saturn 8th house might like a more ”cold” kind of sex with less cuddling and kissing etc just straight forward penetration sex.
Bacchus(2063) conjunct Mars in the natal chart seem to give the person an insatiable sexual appetite.
Moon & Mars in the 8th house in synastry seem to be the hardest to resist. Especially speciellt since they often come with some kind of forbidden situation going on. There seem to always be a reason why yall are not allowed to do it.
Lilith aspecting personal planets or inte the 1st, 8th, 11th or 10th house sometimes have the most innappropriate people vieweing them in a sexual way. Like the person they least expected. Which can be very hurtful for them.
People with Jupiter aspecting Mars tend to be seen as being good in bed no matter if they are or not. Its just the energy they exude.
Someones Lilith aspecting your personal planets can make them see you as wayyy sexier than you actually are. Same with 8th house/Pluto synastry.
©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved
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januaryembrs · 17 days
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I CAN SEE YOU | Spencer Reid x FBI!Reader
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Request: Congrats on 2k!!! Could you write something based off of ‘I can see you’ by Taylor Swift with Spencer please?
Description: Spencer may or may not have a little thing for the desk jockey on the floor below, and she may or may not have a thing for their silent elevator rides together.
Length: 1.2k
Warnings: fluff?? Season one Spencer in mind when I wrote this (my sweetest boy)
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He passed through the lobby at the exact same time every day. Usually with his head dug in an obnoxiously thick book, or fiddling with the strap on his satchel bag, or flicking his long curls out of his sweet, hazelnut eyes. Sometimes with thick round glasses perched on his slender nose, sometimes nothing but a thoughtful, musing frown. 
Not that she was obsessed with him. 
But it wasn’t hard to acknowledge that whoever the guy on the sixth floor was that seemed to stick to an incredibly tight schedule had the face of a god. 
Though she supposed he could say the same about her schedule seeing as they seemed to enter the elevator at nearly the exact same time every single day, never saying a word, a brief nod of hello was about the extent of their interaction. One time he had pressed the button for her floor, number five, for her, and she hadn’t stopped smiling the rest of the day. 
Of course there were times he and his team would be away on a case, in which she wouldn’t see him for days on end, while she went to her lonely desk in forensics no matter what case had come up.
In the grand scheme of things, she was a desk jockey, inputting numbers and data and figures, organising files and sheets and loading ink into the printer. She was a nobody and he was part of the BAU. 
No one would even notice if she didn’t show up for the day. At least that was what she hoped as she sped walked out of the cab, her hair soaking down her back, her lungs puffing in a crackling wheeze, frantically tucking her tight shirt into her dogtooth pants, limping on her ankle that she’d rolled racing out her apartment building into the raging storm that had overcome Virginia in a matter of hours. 
She felt socks wet through as she squelched her way into the elevator, barely noticing the usual passenger that was tracing a bony finger down the page of Pride and Prejudice, quickly flicking over the page in a matter of five seconds. 
He looked up when she hopped in beside him, squeezing in as a handful of other people followed her. Trying desperately to even her hair out in the large mirror behind them, it was only then she realised her mascara had smudged down her cheeks entirely, making her look like she’d slept in a pile of charcoal. 
“Fuck,” She said loudly, her hand slapping over her mouth when she realise the deadly silent elevator full of federal agents turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat as if her makeup condundrum hadn’t been embarrassing enough, “S-sorry,” She muttered, turning her head to the ground as she frantically wiped beneath her lids with her cardigan sleeve. 
Turning to see if he had noticed, she caught him staring right at her, and she could have sworn the heat on her face blazed even harder when she saw he was smiling into his book in amusement. 
Fuck. She repeated in her head this time, taking a small sigh of relief when the doors opened on the first floor and half the passengers trickled out onto the finance floor. 
She was still fixing her hair by the time they got to the second floor, communications, and even more people got out. By the end of the third floor, it was just the two of them left. 
“Bad morning?” He broke the silence, and it was the first time she’d ever actually heard his voice. He was even dreamier than she’d thought, in a boyish kind of way.
“Car battery died, and the bus was full,” She murmured, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves that were entirely sodden, “And then apparently someone up there hates to see pretty girls get to work looking dry and respectable,” 
He chuckled properly, and she swore it soothed the ache of the cold rain just the smallest bit. 
“Don’t we all,” He mused, though his eyes went back to his book, flicking over the words faster than she figured would be possible. 
She figured he didn’t want to be bothered by the drowned rat looking woman that had all but thrown herself into the lift beside him, interrupting his reading with her curses and pitiful glances. 
It was only when they reached the fourth floor that he quickly rooted around his bag for something, likely a bookmark since he didn’t seem the type to dog-ear a perfectly neat page. It wasn’t until a soft, moss green sweater was thrust in her face she snapped out of her self loathing daze.
Looking at him wide eyed, he nudged it towards her hands, and it was like Spencer only just realised that offering a stranger your clothes was perhaps not normal, but he didn’t feel like they were strangers.
She was the first person he’d ever met in the building besides Gideon. He remembered the two of them stepping into the elevator, the bashful woman already flicking through files, her lanyard hanging low over her chest as she chirped good morning to Gideon and he did the same, wishing her a good day when she stepped out onto floor five. 
He couldn’t help if he was so perceptive he’d clocked her name and position written on her ID, couldn’t help it if he was a huge fan of routine and repetition, that he purposely walked into the lobby at the same time every day knowing she was going to be right behind him just for an excuse to see her. 
No, they certainly weren’t strangers, Spencer tried to reason, yet he wasn’t even sure she knew his name.
“T-take it,” He stuttered, watching the doors close and the lift jolt as it ascended to her floor, “You can just bring it back tomorrow,” 
“That’s- I couldn’t,” She reasoned, her eyes fretful, “It’s yours,”
“I’m not using it, you must be freezing,” Spencer reiterated it with another nudge towards her, and he saw the longing glance she gave at the promise of warmth. 
Number five dinged above them, and the doors slid open. 
“Just take it, please,” He said, and it seemed like that was the magic word as she cautiously took it out of his hand, and melted when she realised it was softer than she’d thought, like it was made to feel like a giant hug. 
“Thankyou…” She said, heading for the doors with slow steps; she didn’t want to leave whatever moment he’d caught her in. 
“Spencer,” He replied, smiling at her with a shy cadence. 
“Thankyou, Spencer,” She said, and gave him her own name back. But he already knew it, and he realised he would sound like a complete creepy stalker if he’d said so. So he just nodded, a small wave off as she headed for her office and the doors closed behind her. 
He loved how she said his name, he thought blissfully, but he loved even more showing up to work day after to see her waiting by the elevator, his sweater washed and ironed, pressed neatly in her hands and still warm from where she’d tumble dried it. 
She handed it back to him with a sheepish smile, and he took it gracefully, catching a whiff of her fabric softener and felt fuzzy inside right there and then. 
“Good morning, Spencer,” She said sweetly, and he swore he wanted to kiss her the minute it left her lips, glossed with something rouge and shiny. 
But he didn’t, he just said it back, loving how her name rolled over his tongue. 
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ohcaptains · 3 months
Text
𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.
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john price x fem reader.
18+ !!! possessive husband! john, penetrative sex, cum play, light choking, use of the word 'sir', king of dirty talk captain john price.
just something i had to get off my chest! reblogs and thoughts are appreciated!
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You’re spread, face down, and ass up on the duvet.
John’s hands are warm on your hips, his calloused fingers are digging into your heated flesh, and grabbing fist fulls, as if he wants to take you apart. You squirm against the pressure. You’ve always liked it when John grabbed you like this.
Like it a lot more when you’re spread wide open for him, though.
He hums a smile from behind you.   “Gotta say it louder, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you.” You swallow down your drool. It’s pooling onto the sheets below your mouth, and you know that when this is all said and done, John will pull you against him and joke about the wet patches. Whisper heavily into your ear – look at the mess you’ve made, love, and you’ll blink at the sight, still sensitive from the daze he’d put you in. Melt against his chest. Say, it’s all your fault, and John would chuckle, kiss you sweetly, I’m such a bad guy, aren’t I?
Now, though, in the heat of the night, you couldn’t care less. You sink into your thighs, and the movement forces your pussy wider for him. John sighs at the sight. Grunting, as if he’s letting himself into temptation, he slides his thumb over your spread cheeks, and roughly drags it over your asshole.
You gasp, and buck forward, body throbbing. “Ah, John.” He lightly smacks your hip, “what did I say?” “You,” you loudly repeat, suddenly remembering what he asked earlier.
Who do you belong to? He’d grunted. You’d been far too dazed to respond clearly – coming twice from John’s thick fingers and tongue would do that.  
Your husband hums again, grabbing your ass cheek and spreading you wider. “Look at you,” he whispers to himself, gazing at the wet slick of your cunt.
You’re soaking. Slowly floating into the abyss. Drifting off into a world of non-verbal communication, dazed smiles, and incomprehensible words.
You’re familiar with it.
Familiar with John fucking you stupid. Familiar with John’s soothing hand on the back of your neck as he coaxes you out of your small space.
Your husband presses the head of his cock against your cunt, then gently slides it through your slick, rubbing against your clit and aching hole. You mouth at the duvet, eyes rolling back until all you see is the soothing black.
“This wet cunt. All for me?” Your belly tightens. Pussy clenches around the memory of his dick. “John,” you whine, begging for more, begging for him to stop. You’re not sure at this point.
There’s not a lot of clarity to moments like this, it’s only after, when John’s got you in his arms, that you realise how far gone you were. Reflect on the words you’d said – the dirty spiel you’d whimpered to get what you wanted.
Still, though, as John feeds his cock into your swollen pussy, and grunts, “I’ll come inside this pretty cunt, fill you with my babies, huh?” you still have enough clarity left to shake your head and whimper, “N-No.”
John laughs darkly. He sinks his cock as far as it’ll go, and you cream around him, slipping quickly. “You sure?” he grunts, voice strained. His hands are gripping your cheeks, spreading them wide so he can see just as far you can take him.
“You don’t want me to get you pregnant? Show everyone that I fuck you good and proper?”
His words make you dizzy. Mindlessly, you clench around his cock, coating him, and John laughs with a groan.
He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself.
Knows you’re chewing on the duvet right now, stuffing it into your mouth to quiet your sobs. Knows that there’s a knot in your belly right now, and it’s tight enough that you’re throbbing all over.
He slides his slick cock out, and when he slowly stuffs you with it again, there’s a wet ring pushing to his base. He clenches his jaw, shakes his head in disbelief, then takes his cock from you again.
Your breath hitches, waiting for him to sink back in, but then he presses in quick and tight, bottoming deep, forcing you to cry out suddenly.
“John, John, John – fuck. Fuck!” He ignores you. Continues his previous dirty drawl.  
“Would look so good with my come leaking out of you, sweetheart,” he compliments. You beam. Jesus, you go blind with it. You would, fuck. You would look so good strung out, tangled in sheets with his come dribbling out of your swollen pussy.
You close your eyes to the thought of it.
Go to the sweet dark as John slides out, then buries in again. When he’s deep, and you think you’ve settled into the thick heat of it all, he hoists you against him – his chest to your back -- and presses his mouth to your ear, talking quickly, so you don’t have time to complain.
His voice is heavy. Haunting. Makes you cling to the hand he’s got tight around your belly.
“Pump you full of it, huh baby? then pull your underwear up.”
He begins to languidly fuck you. Rocks his hips up in deliberate strokes, setting a gentle, intoxicating rhythm that has your mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back. John breathes heavily in your ear, and you know it’s getting to him too.
“Make you sit in it all day. Go to work with your knickers smeared in my come. Your colleagues wouldn’t know that your pussy is all wet with me, but I would. I’d know.”
You sob his name. Lock your gummy walls to his thick cock, trying to milk him, and John near growls into your ear. “Fuck!” he snaps, and the sound echoes through you, and goes straight to your clit.
“You like that huh?” He drags his calloused hand between your trembling thighs and sloppily pushes his fingers over your clit. You double over in pleasure, but John keeps you pressed against him with the arm he’s got wrenched around you.
“Tightening around me. Shit. All this cause I threatened to punch a guy in the pub?”
You’re brought back to the memory: some guy grabbing your arm to try and dance with him, and John shoving him back, near pushing him into the slot machine.
He’d been shaking with rage. Went to get the guy's throat in his hands before you got involved.
“Like to pretend that it annoys you, but I know you love it when I’m possessive. When I keep you locked to my hip. We both know that it makes your cunt get all sticky when I fight someone for you.”  
He’s right and you know it. When John had shoved the guy, you’d gone hot all over. But you’d pulled your husband to the smoking area and told him to cool it.
He went to pay the tab, and you went to the toilet. Spent most of it with your forehead against the door, trying to steady your thumping heart.
John’s still rubbing your clit, trying to catch it in his wet fingers. It’s all sloppy. It’s John breathing shakily against your ear, his deep, hungry tempo forcing a pool of desire to settle at your lower back.
He continues his pace – fucks you the way he knows you like it, steady, but hard -- and all at once, that ache that had simmered threatens to burst, and you spasm around his cock, gasping with the desire to come.
You let out an unrestrained moan, whimpering mindlessly.
Through the blood rushing through your ears, you hear yourself plea with him – fuck me, please. John. John. Please. You take his hand from your belly and drag it to your throat, grinding down on his dick.
John curses. Pushes you to the duvet, takes your hips in one hand, and rubs your clit with the other.
The sensation of both his fingers and cock makes you mute against the sheets.
Your body is numb. It’s all electric heat, wrapped around you like a cloak. You try to talk, tell him to fuck you, but all that comes out is drool and his name. Please. Please. Um gonna come. Um gonna come so hard baby—he smacks your ass, and the sudden pressure goes straight to your cunt, sending you spinning, and you’re squeezing around him, tight as a vice, coming on his cock.
John all but growls as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Gooood girl!” he shouts, watching you struggle and spasm around his cock, fidgeting and whining as white heat seers through your pussy. “Come inside me,” you gasp, drunk, so fucked out that you’d let him do anything he wants, and John groans, your cunt tight and so so warm and wet. “Come,” you drawl, your orgasm tailing off, and you clutch the duvet, whining in your post-come state. John’s still fucking you and the feel of his hard cock sliding through your swollen and slick folds has you babbling.
“Come inside me I want you inside of me.” John huffs a laugh. “No, baby, that’s not what you want.” You shake your head, delirious. “It is, I promise.” “No, it’s not. I’ve just fucked all rational thought out of your head. Brain’s gone dumb on my cock, huh baby?”
He smooths his hand over your back, struggling to contain his strained grunts through his spiel. You can’t decide which you like more: when John’s so turned on that all he can do is bark filth at you, or when he’s so turned on that he can’t, just moan and grunt and fuck you silly.
“Good thing your husband thinks for you, though. Turn around.”
In your bleary state, you manage to fumble around onto your back, and John grabs hold of your leg and pulls you down the duvet, forcing you onto your knees in front of him.
You blink up at his looming body – at his heaving, hairy chest, and clenched neck. His face is red with sweat, and the heady, heavy gaze of his eyes has your belly swirling. Blinking down at his hand, you dreamily watch him tug at his wet, angrily hard cock, before muscle memory kicks in.
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and John groans deep in his throat, the sound twisting into a moan as he speeds up his tugging, and it's seconds before he’s pumping his come into your mouth.
Most of it lands on your tongue, or around your lips. But a smear of it shoots across your cheek. You don’t dare wipe it away; instead, once John’s finished, and he’s staring down at you with this wild, feverish look, you close your mouth and make a show of swallowing it down.
You’ve collected a lot of spit from having your mouth open for so long, and your mouth is too full to swallow it all in one go, so a trail of it slides down the corner of your mouth and throat.
John watches it drip.
Inhaling steadily, he reaches his thick hand out, and wipes the smear of it, along with the come on your cheek, away with his thumb.
“What was it you said?” he whispers. His eyes are black as he pushes his finger inside of your mouth. You close your eyes and mewl around his thumb, lazily sucking at it as if he’d pushed his cock between your lips.
Having something of his in your mouth makes your post-come delirium even worse.
The position makes you hazy, too – spread thighs and sensitive pussy brushing against the rug – and you’re just about to ask if you can blow him before he pulls his fingers away and clasps your jaw and throat in his huge hand.
Your eyes immediately roll back. Cunt clenches, desperate for him inside of you again, and when you blink up at him, your husband's face is a picture of love and possession.
“Mine,” he states, in his heavy, smoke-laden voice.
You lick your lips and taste the remnants of his come on your tongue. “Yes sir,” you whisper.
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masterlist.
please reblog or comment i'll kiss u.
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