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#plus sized fc
svejarph · 9 months
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melanie lynskey gif pack
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CLICK THE SOURCE LINK BELOW and you will find a $0 ko-fi shop link (or join my discord server to gain access to a payhip link) for #214 245x150px gifs of Melanie Lynskey as Shauna Sadecki in Yellowjackets Season 2 (2023). Do what you want with these, just don’t repost/claim as your own, don’t use them to play Melanie or in any smut/smut-based blogs, and like/reblog if using.
This is a commission that was made public by the commissioner. If you like what I’m doing, feel free to commission me (/commissionsinfo) or send me a kofi (/svejarph).
Melanie was 45-46 during filming and is white. Please note that she is also plus-sized.
tw: alcohol, drinking, eating, fire, food, guns, hugging
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jarofstyles · 2 months
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Sugar, Sugar 12
Here they are, finally. With the smut <3 I know you've been asking about it so here she is!
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Series masterlist
WC-5.4k
Warnings- body issues, past trauma, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, y'all know the drillll.
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Y/N felt like she was going to pass out. 
The room was dimly lit by one small lamp on the bedside table. The walls were painted a soft shade of blue, and the curtains were drawn closed, shutting out the world beyond. Y/N laid on the bed, fidgeting with the sheets, her heart racing with anticipation. She couldn't believe she was finally here, that this was finally happening after all the teasing and workup to this sort of thing. 
She had agonized over what to wear to bed, finally settling on an oversized tee shirt much more suited for her. It was a Queen tour tee shirt, a soft cream color and buttery smooth. One of her favorites to wear to sleep. Being bold, she had decided on no shorts and simply a pair of black lace panties. How long would they even stay on? She had no clue. Not if Harry had anything to do with it. All she knew was that she had been the most prepared she could be. Sneaking into his bathroom, she had spread coconut body lotion on her skin to get her as smooth as possible, taking her hair down from the half assed updo she had done, spritzing herself with body spray and brushing her teeth twice. Overkill, perhaps, but she wanted to be good. To be what he had been anticipating. 
Staring up at the ceiling. She fidgeted nervously, feeling a bit out of place in his room. Harry had ordered her to his room while he finished cleaning the kitchen, dangerously leaving her alone with her thoughts. As sexy as it was that the man could clean up after herself (And bare minimum), she knew that should could only last so long before she went crazy.
As she waited, she couldn't help but start to notice all the little details about his room. The closet door was closed, a tv hanging over one of his dressers that mirrored the end of the bed. A full size mirror stood in the corner- which she had covered with a blanket. She’d have to talk to him about mirrors and portaling later. He had a few pieces of art, some little sculptures, paintings on the walls of varying sizes to make a little gallery. What had surprised her was his basket of sunglasses on the previously mentioned dresser. Soft cream, it held an almost overflowing amount of sunglasses which had confused her. She had really only seen him wear 1 or 2 pairs of them. Maybe she could snoop later. There was still so much to know about him, so much to learn. All she craved was getting closer to him. Emotionally, mentally, physically. 
God, she was crawling out of her skin. She wanted his touch so badly that she knew that the moment he touched her tonight that she would be wet. They’d behaved for the most part, Y/N pretending to ignore Harry’s eye fucking because she was still hyping herself up. There was no turning back now. She let out a sigh, feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. She and Harry had been dating for a while now, but she still felt like she was getting to know him. She wondered if he felt the same way. If he still felt like every time they hung out he was learning more and more about her. 
But even through the nerves, she wasn’t uncomfortable. She trusted Harry with her body, with her vulnerability. She looked forward to handing herself over to him for a bit, to enjoy his hands and lips and get to know how he was as a lover. Was he a biter? He had been vocal in the past but she had to hope that he would get dirty with her tonight. She needed it.
Just then, Harry walked back into the room, carrying two bottles of water. He grinned when he saw her sitting pretty in his bed, hair down now and changed. She was a fucking vision in his bed, surrounded by all things him. His pillows, laying on his sheet, the man couldn’t help that sensation of self satisfaction in his chest., Setting the water down on his nightstand before crawling onto the bed next to her. He hadn’t wanted her to have to get thirsty and not have anything to drink when she woke up or.. After activities.
He took a moment to look at her, watching her hands fiddle with the sheets as she looked up at him with rounded eyes, he could see the mixed emotions on her face- but it wasn’t necessarily fear. He wanted her to talk to him, tell him what was going on in that beautiful brain of hers. Sensing that she was probably needing a bit of soothing, Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Hey," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What's going on in that mind?"
She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up. "I’m just nervous, I think. I really want to do this, and have been thinking about it for a while. But sometimes those old nerves come creeping in and I get worried you won’t like what you see. I usually don’t feel this way, but when we peel back those layers and get to the real stuff, sometimes this sort of feeling leaks past. I’m sorry.” She peeped, looking down at her lap.
Harry looked at her with a soft expression, his eyes filled with understanding. "Hey, look at me.” His finger nudged her chin up, directing her eyes at him. “There she is. Sweet thing.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers chastely, starting slow. “I know it can be scary to open up and let someone in," he said. "But I want you to know that I feel the same way. S’fucking terrifying. When you care about  someone, sex means a hell of a lot more. But I need you to listen to this, even if you don’t fully grasp it yet.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes looking over hers, hoping they could convey just how serious he was.
“I adore what I see. I’ve been attracted to you since we met. I know people have probably said some fucked up things, made this sort of thing scary for you- and I wish I could beat the hell out of them. Wish I could take that away and make your experiences only positive, only let you feel as beautiful as you actually are. I know you know how gorgeous you are, that this sort of thing brings you back- from what you’ve told me anyways. But I need you to know that I have never felt more attracted to someone in my life. S’not going to change without your clothes on.”
His words made her heart swell with affection for him. Finally. This was what she deserved. Someone tender with her heart, who got it- or at the very least, attempted to get it. That’s what she had asked for. Harry had seemingly come out of nowhere, placed in her direct path because he would get it. He was meant for her. Her eyes stung a bit as she felt the words hit her fully. It felt so fucking good to know how much he genuinely cared. How he was attracted to her, how he wanted to help her rewrite those experiences.
What she wanted to say couldn’t be expressed very well verbally, so she kissed him instead. Placing her own hand on his neck and pulling him in, kissing him fully as she urged him closer to her as she started to lean back. It was a fiery kiss, one that he could feel down to his bones. She meant this kiss. It was hot and heated, making him moan into her mouth as her fingers tugged slightly on the hair she had found to urge him closer. He would never tire of that. 
“Thank you.” She whispered against his lips, fiddling with his hair as he adjusted. “I just want you. Want to do it. Can we?” 
Harry smiled against her mouth, his heart quickening in his chest. He hadn’t expected that sort of reply.  He had been fully prepared to take more time sweet talking her- but his mouth could be put to better use. “Anything you want.” He murmured to her. “Seems you’ve still got me wrapped under your spell. M’gonna be so good to you.” His lips puckered against hers, nudging their noses together before he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head. “We go as fast or as slow as you want. I’m jus’ feeling insane that I’ve even got you here.” Going back down to her mouth, he brushed his thumb against her plump bottom lip, slightly swollen from their kisses tonight. He wondered if it stung, if it was sensitive, but she answered that by wrapping said lips around the digit and sucking on the tip of it softly. Just a bit, her tongue brushing the underside as she gave him her softest eyes clouded with that hint of lust. Lust for him. 
“I like this.” His voice trilled. “Like that you’re so pretty with your lips wrapped around me in any way.” Pushing his thumb a bit further into her mouth, he watched her cheeks hollow as she took it deeper and let her teeth grace his knuckle before pulling ot back out. “Temptress, that’s what you are.” He took his wet thumb and smeared it over her lip, spreading her own saliva on it before catching her lips in a kiss. “Need t’get you naked.” 
This is what she had been worried about initially, but with his mouth on hers she felt a little floaty as his fingers gently tugged up her sleep shirt, only breaking their kiss when he had to tug it over her head. It was abundantly clear that he was looking when she heard his breath hitch, eyes glancing down at her bare breasts. Of course she wasn’t wearing a bra to sleep, Y/N would fight demons over underwires, but she knew she made the right call when Harry knelt down and began to kiss down her neck. 
“How are you so perfect?” He groaned, peppering kisses to her while motioning for her to lay back. Harry was taking his time to play with her, to observe, to worship. “Can I touch, Sugar? Let me see how soft you really are?” 
Her nod was slow, watching his face break out in a naughty grin before his hands traveled south. Despite how comfortable she was with Harry, it still made her tense a little as his hand fell to her waist. How it ran over her stomach, the one forbidden area she usually refused to be touched- but he did nothing but love on her. Letting his hands trace every curve, every dip and edge as his mouth moved further down to the hollow of her throat and bit down softly to make her whimper. 
“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Like one of those paintings, hm? Y’know what I’m talking about. So soft and lush, just want to bury my face in you.” He whispered, ignoring her necklaces as he moved to the swells of her breasts. They weren’t as perky as she’d like, but that apparently had no effect on Harry. He took them into his hands, audibly groaning as he kneaded them gently. He genuinely looked pained, and a peek down showed he was hard in his pants. “Christ. M’the luckiest fucking man. Look at you.” His voice coated in awe, he let his thumbs brush over her hardened nipples, exhaling shakily. 
He let his lips kiss over them, the expanse peppered in soft, slightly wet kisses leaving an imprint behind that glowed in the dim light before he went to the middle of her chest. “M’trying to take my time. Know I have all night… but you’re driving me crazy.” He croaked, letting one hand down down her stomach to the edge of her lace panties. It had been a pain in the ass to actually find comfortable lace in her size, but she would gladly go on the hunt for days to find more if it made him look at her like this. A spark went up her spine and a soft gasp left her throat as his thumb moved down, stroking her slit lightly. Cupping her mound, letting his thumb trace over the lace as she exhaled shakily, his lips closing around her nipple. 
A whine she hadn’t ever made before bleated through her lips, hands finding his hair as he flicked his tongue over the pebbled nipple and continued the movements over her most sensitive place. There was no hesitation, nothing she had feared had come true. No recoil, nothing but a positive, lustful gaze and words of praise leaving him. She could tell they were genuine, his excitement palpable in the room. 
“Wet for me.” He mumbled against her skin. “Got the panties wet, just sitting and waiting for me. Been dying for it just like me, hm?” He asked, smugness written on his face. “I’ve been tryin’ to pace myself.. Like you too much to rush, didn’t want to just jump into bed with you but… I’ve been dreaming about it.” Lowering himself further, Y/N made herself relax instead of tense like she had naturally inclined to doing. His lips brushed her stomach, the softness of it making him nuzzle against it before moving down. He knew she would be self conscious if he spent too much time there, but he wanted to help her get over that eventually- if she felt comfortable. He wanted to worship every inch of the woman, his modern goddess. 
“Me too.” She replied, watching with hazier eyes as he found himself snugly between her legs. The man spared no area, kissing her over the panties before moving to her thighs, the fullness making him moan. She continued talking as she felt his lips exploring. “I appreciate you wanting to take me seriously and do it right but- but I’ve been desperate for it.” It wasn’t a shameful thing to admit. Harry was beyond attractive and she had the sexiest boyfriend she’d ever seen, how could anyone blame her for being eager to fall into bed with him. “Not too much teasing, p-please.” Her words stuttered as she felt his teeth graze her thigh, making her shudder. They were still on the road to discovering what each other liked, but Y/N was impatient. She had waited far too long. 
“Oh, m’sorry, Sugar.” He murmured against her, digging his fingers into the waistband of her panties. “Just getting to know my girl. But let’s get down to it, hm? Didn’t mean to tease you.” His nimble fingers were quick to slide them off, aiding her in lifting her legs and tossing them to the side before letting out a whimper of the view. Y/N was beautiful in all areas, but this was his personal favorite at the moment. “Fuck me… You are everything.” He moaned, wasting little time before leaning in to let his tongue run up her slit. 
Her legs tensed for a moment, his arms hooking under her to hold them open in anticipation of this. She had done such a good job at sucking him the first time, and he knew he wasn’t going to ever leave her alone again. He had appreciation for all women, but Y/N was the prettiest he had ever seen. He was determined to get her soft and pliant, keep her puffy and sensitive for him before he slid his cock inside of her. Just a taste was good, but he wanted to. Greedy for her was becoming a new key trait of his. 
“Oh my god.” The girl moaned, feeling his tongue circle her clit. Looking down she could see his eyes, the hunger in them as he licked over her. It was new to her, seeing someone look almost… desperate to touch her. “Just like that, H.” Her praise seemed to make it even worse, nuzzling his face into her cunt with little care about the mess it would make on his face and testing out movements with his tongue. He was incredible, obviously, but Y/N had a bit more limited experience when it came to getting eaten out. She’d had it happen, sure, but there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was the trust, the feelings, but everything felt better. 
Harry was pleased, feeling how she relaxed for him and arched slightly into his face as her hands wound in his hair. Her heavier breathing fueled him, noting every reaction he could. Her thighs tried to close as he latched on to her swollen clit, sucking it lightly into his mouth with a wet sound that went straight to his cock, but he kept her still as he did so. He knew now that he would be spending plenty of time down here, learning exactly how to make her cum from just this alone- but he had to work her open a little bit. 
Pulling away from her clit, his face lifted and arm moved to slick his fingers against her cunt. “You’re happy, baby?” He crooned, not minding the slickness of his chin and mouth. He had no reservations about getting messy, and Y/N had expressed a like for it too, so when he crawled back up and her hands grabbed his face to kiss her, he wasn’t shocked. The response was just as hungry, sliding a finger inside of her and muting her squeak with his mouth as he suckled on her tongue. His cock rutted slightly against her thigh, groaning as he felt how truly tight she was. Soaked, but tight. 
“I need you inside.” She panted, eyebrows furrowed as her hand slid down to his cock. Waiting for his nod, she slipped it into his pants and watched in satisfaction as his face fell into one of pleasure as she wrapped her hand around the base of him, giving a few strokes. “Please? I know it’ll hurt but- but I like it.” She whispered up at him. “Make it hurt a little bit, H. Please, just get inside me.” 
“Condom- are we?” He knelt up on his knees as he shucked his pants down, eyes on her hand. She never stopped stroking him, only once to spit on her palm to make the glide that much easier. His head wasn’t on straight right now, worked up in the arousal he felt. 
“No- No, we’re okay. I want it like this. If we can.” Y/N didn’t want to pressure him into anything, but by the look on his face he was more than happy to do so. Harry was visible to read, she found, and i instances like this she absolutely loved it- but she really wanted him to fuck her. 
“Course, anything for you.” His fingers slid out from her cunt, brought to his mouth so he could greedily get another taste of her with the deep groan that made her pulse. Y/N was beginning to get desperate. How had she lasted this long without him? “How do you want me to take you, Sugar? Hm?” His eyes were blazing as they met hers. “Like this? On your knees?” He was giving options. 
“Knees.” Leaning up for one more kiss, she took it wetly before spinning around to get comfortable. This way felt so good, and she was comfortable like this- but she hadn’t expected the spank on her bare ass. The startled squeak was accompanied by his warm hand soothing the sting, making her lean into it further. 
“God… this ass.” He moaned, holding it in his hands. Harry was obsessed with every part of her, but there was no denying he was an ass man. He’d secretly praised whatever god was out there that she had chosen this way. This position was what he’d been jerking off to for weeks, and seeing her with her face laying on the pillow, hands on the sheets and ass in the air was ten times better than it was in his fantasies. “You are the most tempting thing I’ve ever seen. This is what I dream about.” He whispered, kneading it before fisting his cock. “Want to see it move when I fuck you. Perfect fucking girl.” 
Y/N let out a garbled moan as she felt the tip of his cock run over her soaked slit, finding her entrance. The first push made her tense slightly before his hand ran down her back, soothing her. He was big. Big enough for it to sting slightly as he began to push in, making them both let out noises. It was like she could feel every bit of it. Never having forgone a condom before, it was a bit more intense than she had realized but god, was it worth it. He was being patient, slowly pushing in as she could feel him twitching against her, but it was worth it. 
“More.” She gasped. “More, H.” 
Harry was in awe of how good she was- how good she felt. Watching her cunt split open and take him, it was evident that she hadn’t been fucked in a long while, and shamefully he loved being the one to take her back. Hopefully the last cock to ever fill her, the only one she would crave, he’d tried to be gentle, but his sweet little Sugar wanted more. “More?” He laughed. “Tiny cunt can barely take this much. D’you think you can really handle more?” 
He was testing out limits, and if Y/N wasn’t already dripping? She’d be soaked all over again. “I can do it.” She whined, pushing back on to him. “Promise, I can take it. Give me more.” 
Doing as told, Harry began to push further into her. A deep groan left his mouth as he watched her swallow him up, slipping himself inside of her tight channel. It wasn’t the easiest, resisting slightly, but he could feel how wet she was getting.  “How’s it feel, Sugar?” He asked softly, holding on to her hip as he got the last bit in. Fully submerged in her, she was dripping on him. “Hm? Talk t’me.”
“Full.” The girl choked out, grabbing the sheets until her knuckles paled. “Stings, but- I love it.” Did she ever. This was the fullest she had ever been, his cock thick and long and perfect for her as he stayed seated fully in her for a few moments before she began to rock on him. “Fuck me. Don’t be gentle, please. I can- I can take anything you give me.” 
Harry would still be careful, but he trusted her. If she wanted to be fucked? He was going to deliver. Slowly pulling out a few inches, he slammed back in to make her yelp. He did it again. And again, listening to her noises as he started to find a rhythm. It was a hot, wet heaven sucking him in and he was loving every moment of it. 
Y/N was reacting just how he liked. Whimpering and pushing back on to him, moaning for him as he brought his hand down on her ass again and watched the skin ripple as it hit. His obsession with her ass was only being fueled as he watched it hit his groin. This was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. 
He continued, watching as his girl tugged at the sheets and whined for him, fueling his ego as he began to fuck into her harder. It only seemed to satisfy her more. It was the most free he had felt during sex in his life. Not worried about hurting her too much as he saw what she preferred, he pounded into her as he held her hips tightly. Surely there would be bruises on her after this, but part of him relished in that. Marks made by him on the perfect woman underneath him, marking her as freshly fucked and fully his. 
Y/N felt like she was being fucked stupid. Like each thrust was making her focus only on how to get this to never end, how she wanted him to stay humping her forever. He wasn’t holding back and fuck, did it feel good. Harry was strong, thorough and so deep she swore if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was in her stomach. “You’re giving it… so good.” She slurred, eyes watering slightly as his hand wrapped around her hair and tugged. A whine left her as she was forced up, scrambling to use her hands as he fucked into her sopping cunt like it belonged to him. “Hit me again- please.” She begged as his hand in her hair made her arch her back. 
The man chuckled in disbelief, bringing his free hand down against her ass again, and again. Watching as the spot moved and her ass rippled from the force of his thrusts. The moans coming from her felt too good to be true, but as he pulled her up and had her on her knees, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped an arm around her own, his other hand turning her head so he could kiss her. Albeit sloppy at this angle, Y/N was feeling like she was in a dream as he cooed against her cheek. 
“So fucking wet for me, you’re dripping. Naughty girl. Like it when I rough you up a little, hm?” A yank of her hair made her mewl, doing her best to nod. “Was going to go nice and slow, make love t’you… but you had to tell me to fuck the gentleness. Had to make me fuck you like a little whore.”  The slight degradation made her cry out, clutching the arm bracing her to his chest as she searched out his lips- but he wasn’t done talking. “Knew you were dirty… But getting off on this? Being called a whore, being fucked bare and on your knees? Never knew my sweet little Sugar had it in her.” He released her hair to collar her throat, his strong hand wrapping firmly around her neck as he jostled her with his thrusts. 
“My sweet girl didn’t want soft. No… You wanted the fucking only I could give you, Yeah? All the rest couldn’t fuck you right, but you knew that I could.” His lips dragged against her ear, making her shiver. “And that’s why you’re letting me keep you. Cause I love this beautiful body, wany every single inch to crave my touch. M’gonna train you to want me everywhere. Your neck, your cunt, your stomach, your thighs… You’re going t’feel every bit of beautiful as you are.” His voice was darker, rougher, and it went straight to her cunt. Y/N swore she could cum just from that. 
“Yeah, yes, only you can fuck me like this.” She babbled back, knowing it was the truth- but she couldn’t wait until later one when she showed him it was the same for him. Only she would fuck him the way he wanted. She would take control at some point and show him that, but for now she was more than happy to let him take the lead. He did an incredible job. 
It felt like she was on fire, the tips of her nerves buzzing as he fucked into her over and over again. With whispered permission, he closed his fingers around the side of her neck in a practiced way, cutting off a bit of air and giving her the headrush she needed. “Gonna cum- I’m gonna cum, Harry.” She said frantically, voice slightly strained as the mix of his cock hitting the spot she needed, the words and his hand around her neck having her barrelling towards orgasm much faster than she had before. It was almost rare, before, to cum during penetrative sex, but he was getting her in that exact way she needed. 
“Go on, baby.” He encouraged. “Soak me, c’mon. Cum on my cock, my perfect little whore. Sweet little goddess… Show me how good you feel.” He continued the same pace, not wanting to change a thing so she could meet her end. It fueled him to know it was his doing as he watched her begin to fall over the edge. 
Y/N’s ears were ringing as she came, all she could focus on was the pleasure. White hot, spilling from her belly to her clit, all the way to her eyes as they watered. The most pathetic little scream was given as she began to tremble in his arms, nails digging into the one holding her up as her cunt fluttered around him. Her breathing caught in her throat, even as he released the grip and simply held her he worked her through it, but it was difficult to stop. She began to go limp, unable to keep herself up. 
Harry was right at the edge, feeling that orgasm- but he was gentle as he lowered her down, body following after her as he chased her orgasm. Now weighted on top of her, he used one hand to make sure he didn’t crush her while the other stayed on her throat while he buried his face into her neck, grunting as he felt his orgasm crest. It hit him like a train, his own pathetic whine leaving his chest as he shuddered on top of her, sloppy final thrusts pushing him over the edge. A moan of her name left his swollen lips into her neck as the first ribbon of cum spilled into her, stalling as his balls began to pulse and the thickened load of cum began to fill her up. 
It was more intense than either of them had felt before. Both felt stinging in their eyes, a need to stay close, and want to hold on- so they did. Recovering slowly, Harry stayed buried in her cunt as he pressed kissed silently to her cheek and neck as his cock gave its final twitches inside. Spent. It was unusually comfortable despite the stickiness between bodies, and when Y/N gathered the strength she lifted her head and whined softly for a kiss which the man happily gave. 
“You okay?” He asked softly after a few moments of quiet breathing and her body stayed under his. He was blown away, if he was honest, but he didn’t know how to verbalize it to her. 
“M’so good.” Y/N giggled, feeling his nose against hers as he smiled. “I don’t know what got into us, but I loved it.” The woman knew how rare good sex actually was at this point, especially for her, but Harry had almost read her mind. She’d directed a little, but he followed every cue her body had given. He’d taken control, was a little degrading but not too mean. She’d get him to be meaner later- or show him how mean she could be. 
“Me too.” He admitted, hissing as he adjusted in her. He was sensitive for now. “Gotta pull out in a minute. D’you want to take a shower?” His fingers were gentle as he removed them from her throat, moving the hair that was stuck to her face. “Need to make sure you’re all taken care of.”
It warmed her heart to know he cared. He actually gave a fuck if she was okay and knew what aftercare was. She’d gotten lucky. 
“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” She yawned, burying her head into the pillow. “My legs are like jell-o. You can be smug about it.” The permission was heavily earned. 
“Well, I will be. But I want you to be comfortable first.” He sighed. “I'll give us a minute but m”gonna have to change the bed.”  Harry didn’t want to assume anything of her for another round, but she answered that herself. 
“Don’t bother.” She mumbled. “You’re going to be back inside of me before we get out of bed tomorrow.”  Harry couldn’t argue with that. All he knew was, he had gotten a proper taste of Sugar- and he was an addict.
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liquorisquickerr · 8 months
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yourdailyqueer · 8 months
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Lydia Okello
Gender: Non binary (they/them)
Sexuality: Queer
DOB: N/A
Ethnicity: Ugandan
Nationality: Canadian
Occupation: Model, writer, entrepreneur
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thaywrites · 6 months
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SPOOKTOBER PACKS: FREE CONTENT—on the SOURCE LINK, you will find #150 gifs of the actress GABOUREY SIDIBE in AMERICAN HORROR STORIES !! all of these gifs were made by me from scratch so please don’t repost them and claim as your own & make sure to check out my guidelines before using my content. please LIKE/REBLOG if you find this helpful & consider BUYING ME A COFFEE ( THAYWRITES ) linked on my theme or COMMISSIONING A GIF PACK from me. ♡ you can access the full gif pack through the payhip link, along with a rar download file, or through my directory.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: kissing, emotional distress.
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morvantmortuary · 5 months
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paint the town red --
(Maxi Morvant x non-binary/genderqueer plus-sized Reader, 18+)
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(summary: Maxi returns to you after some night work. You don't hate the result.
warnings: smut, minors dni. dead dove do not eat for the following: blood kink, minor descriptions of gore, Maxi goes down on Reader after some light cannibalism. oral (afab receiving, some anatomy mentioned), oral wound fucking (reader giving), pain kink, handjob. some possessiveness, mentions of stalking. some allusions towards a homophobic/transphobic politician who gets got. serial killers are serial killing, don't act surprised. needless to say: don't fucking try this at home, for all sorts of health reasons.
general: Reader is, as always, non-binary/genderqueer, fat/plus-sized, and also just plain Queer. afab anatomy is referenced for reader, so just be advised. otherwise, everything else is meant to be relatively neutral to let people have a more seamless experience, and suggested tweaks to that language are always appreciated.
general: well. this was meant to be part of @jmathesonandsiblings's Spooky Season in the Barrens (for 'covered in blood' and 'gore', in case you couldn't guess!) but life was Not Cooperating. :'D so! here's this, better late than never!!
'...hey rae wtf is with that warning section' buddy, your guess is as good as mine, honest to god.)
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Standing on the back porch in the dark always reminded you just how far the House was from anywhere else in Greymoon.
The autumn chill was still nowhere to be found, the last crickets of the warm weather singing uneasily around you. The cicadas had fallen silent weeks ago, leaving the evening air feeling almost… too big. Too capacious.
Like something else would ooze into where the familiar bayou lullabies should have been, concealing itself in the silence until it jumped out to surprise you.
But tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry as usual. The moon was full, pendulous, threatening to drip harvest honey all down the dangling strands of spanish moss and throwing your world into soft, gauzy focus.
You, however - your mind, your sight, the sense of certainty in the center of your ribs - had never felt clearer.
Your senses felt like the scalpel’s cold edge; the sussurrus of every breeze sounded like a chorus of whispers. The shadowy shapes in your peripheral vision, in the darkened corners of the porch and near the waiting light of the kitchen door, couldn’t draw your attention like they would have before. Like they wanted.
It was impossible to even think of those late shades when you were too busy listening to the sheer life all around you. Pulsing just beneath the night and your own skin was your heartbeat, calm and dependable and steady —
And one more besides, providing a counterpoint to the rhythm you could swear was filling the air around you.
You glanced down at your wrist again, the scarlet mark as fresh and vibrant as an open wound, glowing to rival the moon in your own tiny universe.
You hadn’t put much stock in any kind of invisible string when you were younger, red or otherwise. But when you brushed the sigil with two of your fingers, you almost swore you felt an answering tug from some distant spot.
A tug that you swore was growing stronger, more insistent, with the passing minutes. Something in the vast night was pulling you towards it, or itself towards you, already on course for an inevitable collision.
It must have gone well, you thought. Maxi had told you that the full moons always had more magic in them, even for that as necrotic as the Morvants’.
But the seasonal moons, the ones the world quietly turned around without anyone noticing anymore? Those were best of all.
All three of them had crept out tonight with some mysterious errand or another, each of them notably distracted during the daylight hours. You knew Hex and Rora wouldn’t be coming back before daybreak — they had their own people to visit, after whatever terrible deeds they’d done in the dark.
Maxi - or the Reaper - one of them - had promised they would come back for you, though.
They had even asked you, all sweetness and kisses, to wait for them, right at this spot.
So of course, there you stood. The unseasonably warm autumn caused your nightclothes to cling to your skin and every passing breeze to ghost a finger down your spine, somehow leaving you chilled and sweating all at once.
But he was near. He was so close, you were certain of it.
You had no idea how you knew — you’d barely seen him leave, already asleep in his bed when he’d kissed you goodbye and slipped near-seamlessly into the pitch black. But somewhere in the last hour, you had awakened instantaneously, as though you’d never even dreamed. You’d been walking down the stairs before you fully knew why, with not even a phone or a flashlight to guide you.
You had, however, at least paused to light the lone backyard jack-o-lantern to keep you company. You knew - again, no idea how - that he wouldn’t need it to guide him back to you. But you thought he might at least enjoy the welcome when he did arrive. A cheerful diabolical little smile he could see even from far away.
Your body sang, heady without so much as a single glass of wine. You wondered if your heartbeat always filled the world around you like this, consistent and assertive, and you’d just never bothered to really listen.
And there, again, just underneath - what had to be his, slightly slower, slightly harder. The reverb to yours, solid and deep.
Something dark to it, though you couldn’t say what or why.
Inhaling felt like drinking the warm, perfumed air, and you closed your eyes to let it wash more completely through your lungs. Your nerves twisted agreeably in anticipation of something, everything in you straining against the shroud-like black to catch every rustle, every ghostly step —
The taste of copper hit your tongue, heavy and brash, even before something took your hand.
You didn’t even realize you’d been extending it to the empty dark, only seeing when you finally opened your eyes that you’d been standing on the edge of the top step, your palm facing out as if expecting something.
And in answer, Maxi’s chilled hand clutched yours in his long fingers, the whole of it awash in clotting burgundy.
He was staring up at you from the bottom of the porch steps, eyes fully black behind his blood-spattered glasses. The usual red of his iris was everywhere else tonight - all over his face, clinging in his damp hair, utterly soaking his clothes. You knew immediately there would be no saving any of the fabric, even with hours of soaking. The knees of his trousers in particular were blooms of something near-black — stomach or arterial blood, you were willing to bet.
If you had been anyone else - if he had been anyone else - this would have been a vision that took away every chance you’d ever get at sleeping soundly again, until you finally breathed your last.
But instead, you found yourself smiling.
You stepped back, gently tugging him to follow you.
He walked up the steps as if asleep himself, almost immediately leaning down to be eye-to-eye with you as soon as he stepped onto the porch. For his perfect silence, his gaze felt searching, his face close to yours but still careful to leave you just enough room to lean away. To choose to remain clean of this, whatever new stain he’d brought home with him.
When he had you backed against the wall, his hands came to rest slowly at either side of your head as he continued to stare unblinkingly, his gaze an inescapable void. You knew from the way his palms were light as gossamer against the wall that you could break his stance and turn away if you really wanted. You could go back upstairs, leave him to come to and clean himself up. Pretend this whole thing wasn’t the life you had decided you wanted after all. He would understand when he was… sober, to speak. He really would. You knew that with absolute certainty.
With the slightest stuttering tilt of his head, there was an unspoken question he let hang between the two of you, as pendulous as the moon.
You reached up to his face, his skin sticking slightly against your palms as the blood continued to cool, and fully licked the waiting red from his lips.
The space between you was sealed by this. He was ravenous at your mouth, claiming yours with tongue and nipping teeth and a hunger that felt like the edge of a bottomless dark pit. You were caged between the sticky warmth of him and the solid wall behind you, his hands clutching at your waist, your stomach, his hips pressed impatiently to yours.
You shivered as his mouth moved lower, down your throat that you willingly exposed to him, at your clavicles, leaving bites sharp enough to bruise like they were jewelry. His knees dropped to the wood of the porch with a thud that would’ve made you wince if you hadn’t been so distracted, and you felt him mouthing, needy, at your chest and your stomach through your shirt.
You could only curl your fingers through his hair in response, your hands having to force their way through the tissue and heavy clots of blood that had tangled in it somehow. You would’ve worried about pulling if you knew he didn’t enjoy the pain, and when you broke through a lock plastered to his scalp, you felt him shiver lightly.
The hiss through your teeth was unbidden as his mouth dropped to the underwear you were wearing under your borrowed nightshirt, his tongue pressing a curious lick to the thin layer of fabric between your sex and his heat. When you pulled on his hair a little harder reflexively, he looked up at you, resting his chin on the softest part of your stomach under your navel.
He still said nothing, his eyes blacker than space itself, but the tiny exhale through his nose was all you needed to know what he was asking.
He stayed still as a statue as you bit your lip, pondering, scanning the backyard. There was no one here, you knew that. The nearest living neighbors were miles away. The dead ones — well. There’s nothing to say they wouldn’t watch.
But between the elemental contrast of his eyes and the moon above, you’d already made your decision.
When you looked back down at him and nodded, one hand left your thigh to yank your underwear down your legs with a force that nearly ripped it. You had barely enough time to see him lick his own lips in anticipation before there was a searing heat against your slit, and you gasped aloud to the now-silent yard.
There was the distinct smell of blood warming as he voraciously devoured you, sucking at your clit in a way that made your head fall back against the wall. He kissed your entrance like a man condemned receiving a reprieve a minute to his execution, like he thought he’d never get to taste you again. His hands clutched at your thighs, and every so often he would turn his attentions to one of them, kissing and nipping at the inside with a fervor that would’ve seared your face if the blood wasn’t already elsewhere.
Whenever you tried to move, your body shuddering and writhing at white hot electricity racing down your nerves, he would force your hips back against the wall with an iron certainty, pinning you there as he laved your clit and pushed his tongue into you the best he could.
As you gazed upward, unfocused, struck speechless and your breath elusive, you swore your vision was flickering.
Snippets of scarlet flashed in and out, your senses overwhelmed briefly with the impressions of somewhere else entirely: a ribbon of red that followed the sleek, precise strike of something silver.
Flesh opening itself to the impatient ripping of hands and steel, a rib cage being revealed like a boudoir.
A heart that still trembled in its home of muscle and bone even as an echoing scream died away, as the bespoke-suited man ( you recognized him, distantly - a state senator?) trapped and pinned between your (his - your?) thighs started to convulse from shock.
When the hands that now clutched your hips tore the heart from its proper place, holding it aloft as it ceased to clumsily twitch and spurt, the sound you made was something unholy.
You remembered faintly why you usually avoided wearing white, even to bed — the borrowed undershirt of his was now blooming with rust-colored stains, handprints overlapping over where the cloth covered your hips and stomach, swipes of red where his head had rested as he dipped the hard bridge of his nose just so to make you gasp, or grazed his cheek against the fabric as he circled your clit intensely enough to make your leg begin to shake.
You were barely aware of the world around you, but just enough to feel an insistent grinding against your shin, your surroundings coming into focus just enough for you to put together that he was already aching for attention from this alone. When you moved your leg just a fraction of an inch closer to his hips, he groaned gratefully while he still had the tip of his tongue in you, which in turn had you seizing his hair again just for the sake of having something to anchor you to earth.
You were trying your best not to double over him or fall, but your thighs were traitorous, too-warm and shaking slightly as you felt your juices already dripping down them - from your own cunt or Maxi’s panting mouth, you weren’t entirely sure, but it was all the same. Distantly, you were still aware of him rutting lightly against your ankle, and just the faintest sensation of something slick through the fabric of his pants.
You heard a sound that it took you a moment to realize was a word, and then a repetition to realize what was being said —
“Please,” a voice with an echo like something frigid rasped between lingering strokes of his tongue. Against your leg, you could feel the slightest shaking of his own thighs, the muscles taught with need.
Your hand clenched in the hair at the back of his neck as you finally let out a groan from the shadowed parts of you, shoving your clit roughly against his waiting tongue as you rode out the storm that felt like it had been building in you all night. He moaned low in his throat, holding admirably still so you could grind against his mouth with abandon until every last drop of your orgasm had pooled like liquid fire onto his tongue.
When your knees finally gave out, sending you sliding down the wall, he wordlessly moved his body further between your legs so he could catch you against him.
The two of you sat like that for a while, you straddling his lap, your chests heaving against one another as the smell of blood and sex permeated the air with every gasp and pant.
Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling almost blindly down the fabric of his vest, then his arms and his mussed rolled sleeves, as if to make sure he would stay solid under your touch. He pressed his forehead against yours in response, and you felt a mixture of blood and sweat transferring to your own skin with a heat that was near-searing.
His eyes were still pitch black as he gazed at you, mouth still slightly slack as he tried to catch his breath.
You couldn’t help but smile once more, your hands catching at his shoulders to pull him closer. Planting kisses to either side of his mouth, you hummed, soft in your throat. “What’d you do with the heart, lover boy?” He had to have known you’d seen. There was no way he hadn’t felt the memories, visions, whatever they were, passing from him to you as if he’d licked them into your skin.
The demon behind your beloved’s face leaned back slightly to give you a slow grin that exposed almost every tooth, tell-tale pieces of thin red tissue caught between a few towards the back.
“Oh yeah?” You were still checking him over, palpating flesh and bone gently in your palms to search for any sign of something wrong, something that might have been missed in the adrenaline of the chase and the subsequent catch. “You could’ve brought it home. I would’ve at least seared it with some seasoning for you.”
He made a sound from somewhere deep in his chest, pushing his face into the side of your neck to lave his tongue lovingly over the marks he’d left in his frenzy.
You giggled at this blatant affection — until a feeling under your palm made you suddenly still. A spot on his side was too warm, the blood too fresh even after his journey back. When you pressed cautiously, another warm wave covered your skin.
“Baby,” you said, leaning back to inspect the spot more thoroughly. “This is yours.”
Maxi followed your gaze even as his hands remained clawed at your hips, his still-pitch eyes looking more distractedly curious than concerned.
Your fingers discovered a rip in the fabric before you could tell it apart from any other bloodstain, parting the damp cloth to discover a wound that made you hiss through your teeth again.
“Maxi,” you whispered, even though being overheard had hardly been a concern mere minutes ago. “What happened?”
Your lover’s ribs had been grazed by something — experience you couldn’t imagine having years ago now told you, based on the angle and the specific marks of damage, that it was something close-range but not too sharp. An attempted defensive wound from the quarry, you guessed, remembering the brief scarlet flashes of Maxi pinning the man down for the prize between his ribs.
His own flesh was torn: too deep for some hydrogen peroxide and a bandaid, but hopefully able to fix itself relatively quickly with his own magic and a couple of sutures to hold it closed through the night.
“Come on,” you coaxed, trying to force yourself to your feet despite your body’s exhausted protests. “Let’s go get that clean.”
Maxi - or the Reaper, or the combination of them that had made enough peace to share his flesh for now - made a sound that was somewhere between a protesting groan and a sullen whine, caging you more insistently in a hug and nestling his ear over your own heart. You knew this now for the tell it was.
“I’m not saying we won��t still cuddle,” you said, unable to help a smile at his peculiar priorities. He was always clingy, but especially so when he wasn’t… entirely his human self. “But you can’t have an open wound in our bed, babe. You’ll drive yourself crazy with the bleach in the morning trying to get it clean before we open. Not to mention, you just changed the sheets yesterday, remember?”
Your demon was quiet, and though it was harder to tell when his eyes were monochrome, you got the distinct impression he was glancing off to the side as he always did when trying to recall something.
“Please?” You angled your head to kiss the end of his nose, causing him to blink in an owlish way that was almost entirely human. “You said I needed the practice, after all.”
He sat there, seeming to consider this, and for the briefest moment, a tongue that was slightly pointier than it usually presented probed absently at his teeth, as if searching for remnants of the evening’s ritual.
Before you could entreat him again, though, his eyes locked back on yours - and for an instant, you wondered just how that snide little grandstander, one who’d whipped his constituents into a frenzy about the ungodly corruption lurking in schools and public libraries, had felt when he realized just what kind of “demonic influence” he’d failed to take into account.
A secret part of you, one you would’ve refused to acknowledge not too long ago, hoped he’d felt every second of it.
But before you could linger too long on this thought, Maxi gave a small sigh through his nose - assent, you guessed, combined with a sleepily satisfied urge to return to closeness quickly.
“That’s my good boy.” Your smile grew to a grin. Demon scion of an ancient line of necromancers or not, he was still quite agreeable when it counted.
The grin stretched his features again, eager and weirdly sweet despite the deep red stains on his teeth.
As you tried to stand again, he lifted you to your feet as though you weighed next to nothing, taking a touch too long to gaze at your exposed thighs at his eye level before he drew himself up to his full height.
“Come on, you.” You rolled your eyes, taking his cold fingers in your own and leading him back inside.
He followed, a deeper, darker version of his familiar laugh echoing as the door closed behind you both.
The jack o lantern snuffed itself, though neither of you had bothered to check.
The bright lights of the embalming room activated as you walked through the drop-off door together. The tools needed were already carefully laid out on the embalming table, pre-sterilized and arranged in order of procedure as always. You hardly ever needed them - thankfully - but it was still a ritual he performed before every solo trip out of habit.
Too many years of having to fix himself alone made him overly prepared, you’d realized. There was still some part of him - you didn’t know how much - that always quietly expected the worst.
“Up,” you said as you washed your hands at the sink, too light to be a real order. You were already glancing nervously at the curved needle — it was new, fresh out of the wrapping, but the severity of the tools for the dead always made you a little gun shy when applying them to your still-mostly-alive soulmate.
Maxi hopped up on the table, his feet kicking just slightly as he watched you with keen interest. He could do this in his sleep — hell, he could probably still do it now, not entirely in his own mind. But you doing it seemed to delight him in some strange way.
“Shirt off.” You’d crossed to the table, now focused solely on trying to thread the thing, your hands shaking just a little as you were watched. You knew he would only ever offer gentle correction or guidance, but still. There were studies about how people were worse at things if they knew someone was looking at them, right?
There was motion in your peripheral vision as he wriggled free of the sticky dress shirt and the thin undershirt, the two of them tangled together as they were soaked all the way through. He tossed them lightly towards the crematory, as if also having come to the conclusion they were unsalvageable. His skin still had a rust-ish tinge even bare, small crystalline red clots occasionally dotting his dark chest hair.
“I’ll get your glasses next,” you added, glancing up at him as you set the needle down to pick up a sterilizing solution for the wound itself. “It’s a wonder you could see at all on the way home, handsome.”
Something laughed, too deep to be human. As used to the sound as you were now, it still set off goosebumps as some deep primal part of your brain tried to warn your body.
Run for your life, it whispered, generations of your ancestors echoing in your ears. Death is here, and it won’t leave until it has you.
He already did, though, you thought. Body and soul.
“I say something funny, love?” You looked back to him, the eerie grin, the empty eyes. You could tell the difference by now between a threat display and genuine amusement - this really did seem to be the latter. “This might sting,” you warned, reaching towards him with the cotton pad and stopping short so he could give you permission.
He nodded, and when you dabbed at the wound, you heard the sluice of air between his teeth. It wasn’t a pain reflex, though — at least, not all of it. It sounded too close to when he had his hair pulled.
“Didn’t need to see,” he hissed softly, his voice still double-layered. He closed his eyes, shuddering lightly as if enjoying you tending to the raw wound.
“No?” You trapped the tip of your tongue between your teeth as you cleaned, making sure you could tell where his prey’s blood stopped and his own continued to run and start to clot. “So why’d you need your glasses, then?”
Maxi made a soft, exasperated huff and nudged you gently with his elbow. The Reaper, as familiar as the two of you had gotten with each other — as intertwined as it was with the man you loved, as much as you didn’t quite understand where it ended and he began — was at least becoming more willing to joke around with you about its dark agenda.
“S’different,” he rasped again, his voice submerged in the otherworldly presence that still possessed him.
“Yeah?” You were stalling a little bit, the needle clutched in your dominant hand as you stared down the wound. For your relative lack of squeamishness with everything else about this arrangement… you still hated this part. The actual piercing of flesh.
He was already hurt, and you knew at his rate, it would be a mere flowering bruise by morning. But you were still somehow scared of hurting him more, despite everything. Despite the violence that had engendered it, the life that had already been taken.
A bloody hand covered your wrist, and you turned your attention back to the thing sitting in your partner’s body.
The fathomless eyes were somehow gentle, watching you, and you realized they were just beginning to lighten: the voids were sliding slowly from black to deepest maroon, the iris starting to somewhat distinguish itself from the sclera. The Reaper was giving the reins back, at least a little.
“I saw you,” their voices spoke again, and the ominous timbre had given way ever so slightly, like someone was fiddling with knobs on a speaker for balance. “Through the darkest parts of the night, I saw you there, bright as fire.”
You tilted your head, trying to figure out the metaphor, but he only nodded at the wrist he was covering.
“You think you don’t call to me like I call to you? I can always find you,” he said, and there was more of Maxi there. “Anywhere. In the pitchest black of this world or the next, you are mine.”
That would be utterly terrifying, if those teeth and eyes and that voice were coming from anywhere else.
But it was Maxi that tapped the back of your hand softy with his index finger - twice. Two squeezes, two taps, two knocks: your universal signal for ‘are you okay?’.
You exhaled slowly through your nose, trying to force your heart rate to slow so you could think clearly. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to sound more certain than you felt. “I do want to do it,” you added, looking at him so he could see you were genuine. “…Unless you rather would.”
You looked back to the wound again, frowning. You didn’t blame him; he’d been doing this so long, he could probably stitch up a whole body with his eyes closed when he needed to.
…Okay, maybe not quite, but you bet he could get pretty close.
“Try,” the thing said, and there was a stronger undercurrent of your partner in there than there had been yet. The smile was less tooth-y, but still a touch manic. “You can’t hurt me, pretty baby.”
“I wish I was that sure,” you mumbled. Even just looking at the wound again made your mouth automatically tug downwards at the corners.
But you took another deep breath, and the thing in your boyfriend’s lean frame sat up straighter, giving you better access to the angry red gash that split his pale skin.
You reached forward with the needle… before your hand stopped itself mid-air, second guessing yourself.
Glancing (what you thought was) surreptitiously to him, you startled ever so slightly when you realized he was still watching you, unblinking.
“All you have to do is look first,” he said. “Just look. See the shape of it.”
Nodding, you set the needle down on the steel surface, grateful for any excuse to get it out of your faintly trembling hand.
You stared at the wound instead, just as he said. You winced automatically at the angry red edges - you supposed you should be grateful whatever swiped him hadn’t been more serrated. But even if it wasn’t as deep as it could have been —
You didn’t realize what you were doing until your fingers rested, feather light and unsteady, at the very border of the torn flesh.
The Reaper inhaled sharply through his teeth, reminding you exactly what you were touching, what it was, and you went to withdraw your hand like it had been scalded…
Until you heard the tiniest little sound at the end of that hiss that made you pause.
A small, punctuating groan from deep in his chest, rich and dark — But one you recognized from another context entirely.
…No, you had to be getting some wires crossed somewhere. You leaned back in the chair, searching his face while your hand still hovered anxiously in place.
Once again, his gaze was riveted on you — but this time, rather than finding the void of space waiting in the sockets of his skull, you recognized the color of a deep wine.
No pupils still, so Maxi wasn’t alone. But he was definitely in there. No words passed between the pair of you, but the twitching, jerky tilt of his head was a question.
When you didn’t immediately voice the logical response - ‘no,’ obviously, there’s no way, not to mention the sanitary concerns… the response any other person would have given by now - the frozen, toothy smile somehow spread even wider.
Your brow furrowed. This was… not something the two of you had discussed before, as extensive as your discussions of desire often were.
And yet. Your eyes drifted to the wound again, scarlet and dark and… inviting. A split pomegranate, red with promise.
…Well. This was… new.
The Reaper shifted ever so slightly where he sat, and you clocked the way his thighs were pressed together, hopeful. The way the dress trousers seemed tighter than they had when you’d walked down here.
You sat all the way back in the chair, taking him in, nervously wetting your lips with your tongue. Even with the feeling of a double pulse racing now under your skin, you had to be totally sure.
“…Use your words,” you prompted, your voice hushed even in the sterile silence of the embalming room.
His head tilted the other way. “Kiss it better?” the layered voice asked, higher than usual, a note of pleading. He knew what he was asking, then.
Your eyes moved between those of the thing sitting in front of you, to the wound in its side, and back again.
You recognized a point of no return when you saw one.
A distant facet of you reasoned from the depths of your mind, as if in a dream: Did Thomas the Apostle not inquire of the wounds of his returned Lord, after all? Did he not part the flesh with his own to find his own proof of divinity, to alleviate his fear?
Was this really any different? Another form of worship, without the doubt?
Did that not make your love all the stronger, that you already knew you had nothing to be afraid of?
You got to your feet, resting your hands on the embalming table on either side of Maxi’s knees.
“Come here,” you whispered, but it was somehow less tentative than your earlier hush.
Maxi moved to the edge of the table, taller than you again when he was this close, and you leaned up to kiss the questioning smile.
You could taste yourself on his tongue, still, and more besides. Just the faintest trace of blood, not yours, not his.
Blood from too deep down to taste like a surface wound.
Maxi’s hand curled possessively around the back of your skull, and you wondered what it would feel like for your teeth to pop the thin membrane around the human heart.
Your hands were steady now in their purpose, moving between the two of you to free his cock. It was already hard again and leaking, and when your thumb slid the pre-cum along his slit, his hips bucked into your hand.
“Please, pretty?” he rasped against your lips, the need returned in full force.
As your hand moved lazily along his shaft, causing him to shiver and sigh, you looked again at the wound, leaning down as best you could without giving up your grasp on your prize.
The scarlet mouth waited in his flesh, hopeful, expectant.
With a bit of careful angling, you leaned closer. Your breath shook just slightly before you probed it with the very tip of your tongue.
Maxi was abruptly racked with a full-body shudder, his hissed curse somehow ethereal and unholy.
In your hand, you felt him spasm and flex, warm and heavy against your palm.
You swallowed the first mouthful of your lover’s blood like communion wine, searching inside yourself again first. Making sure.
Anything given in less than total faith in your love - in him, in you, the life you were building amidst the bones of those before - would be sacrilege.
The way he moaned when your tongue pushed further in relieved you of all doubt, however.
You weren’t entirely sure what to make of the feeling of blood flooding over your teeth and tongue as you kissed the gash in his side, lapping at the edges with the same greed he’d shown you. But you could feel the way his cock was achingly hard in your hand, the way his thighs began to shake as you could feel your mouth being coated with a red in a mirror of his when he’d arrived here. When he’d found you.
You used your free hand to hold his hip firmly in place when he tried to thrust against the hand gripping him, his fingers curling in your hair possessively.
“More,” he growled from somewhere down deep, and it was hard to tell which of them you were hearing speak. “Please, pretty, more, that’s perfect, that’s exactly…” He lost his words to something between a keen and a groan as you deepened the kiss, the warmth slicking your cheeks, your lips, dripping hotly down your chin.
You picked up your pace, your strokes faster and harder now as his mouth fell open and he outright panted, unable to hide just how much he was enjoying this. You sucked delicately at one edge of the wound, laving the place where the skin parted, and his head fell back with a moan.
“There, just there, that’s—” Maxi did his best to restrain a whine, his hips nearly arching off the table to meet your hand as your face was smeared in his blood.
You ran your tongue along the length of the injury, a bit dazed yourself in just how warm it was. How soft and willing the flesh was to part, even when it shouldn’t.
You heard his breathing hitch and felt him shift under your attention, turning slightly.
When your eyes flicked upwards to see what had changed, they locked with his, and his hips spasmed hard as his now-visible pupils ballooned black again to swallow the lingering red.
With a strangled guttural shout, he came over your hand messily, warm, coating your palm and fingers almost as much as you’d coated your face at his side.
You stroked him through his orgasm as he shook and whined desperately, wanting everything he had to give just as you’d given him.
You only stopped when he seized the front of your ruined night shirt and pulled you upright, seeming just as eager to taste his own blood in your mouth as you’d been to taste your orgasm.
There was an instant where the change from your tongue in him to his tongue in your mouth felt seamless, where you weren’t sure whom was gently probing at the delicate insides of the other, and the shiver down your spine was electric even as your stomach flipped dizzily.
“Thank you, sugar,” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses after the initial claiming. His hands were everywhere again, on your hips, in your hair, his arms encircling your back to keep you close. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, you damned beautiful creature.”
You laughed, half-breathless, one hand tangling in his hair to kiss him fiercely again. “What,” you whispered, your lips brushing his as the two of you half-swayed together. “The fuck?”
Maxi giggled, high and manic, and he tucked his face against the side of your neck - his favorite place. “I don’t know,” he whispered back, and there was a shake to his nervous giggle. “I don’t know. But god, did I like it.”
“I’ve - I’ve never done that before,” you turned, your lips against his cheek now as he pressed needy, open-mouthed kisses to your throat. “I’ve never thought to… I don’t know.”
“Well, I should hope not,” Maxi’s arms tightened their embrace slightly on your back, and you caught the scarlet gleam of his eyes through his hair and his glasses, his tell for ‘mine.’ You knew the Reaper was still there — if it had been just him, he would’ve been less concerned with that than other logistics.
“It’s just you, Maxi,” you soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. You stood between his thighs as he sat on the embalming table’s edge, and he tilted his head to catch your mouth again, the two of you still out of breath even as you couldn’t let each other go.
When you went to clean the mess off your hand, still waiting for you, he leaned over, his tongue brushing against and even caressing yours as you licked your palm clear together.
Maxi continued to suck hard on your index finger after, his eyes never leaving yours, until you pulled ever so slightly on the hair at the back of his neck. He shivered agreeably, and you kissed the other corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know what possessed me,” you said quietly, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve never done… anything like that. You’re just the only person I’ve wanted to let under my skin like this.” You nodded dreamily at your wrist with your mark, the obvious thing, but your other hand rested just at the edge of the open gash you’d just tongue-fucked.
Maxi chuckled, the sound still layered underneath by something demonic, and he tilted his head without separating from you. “You’re the only one I’d trust enough to undo me, darlin’.” He kissed the end of your nose, weirdly gentle even as both of your faces were still thoroughly coated in drying blood. “It’s not a wound when I’m with you. It’s just… opportunity.”
You actually laughed - a real, genuine sound, both your arms wrapping around his neck as he kissed your cheek with all the sweetness in the world.
The two of you lingered like that for a bit in the silence of the surrounding dead, your hearts beating confidently in sync despite the separation flesh between them.
If this was your forever, you thought to yourself, captivated by the hush of your shared breath, then you were fine with that. More than fine.
You weren’t sure who moved, who decided it was time, but at some point, the two of you wordlessly took your original places. In a comfortable, sleepy silence, you thoroughly cleaned the wound like you would have cleaned him off in your bedroom. Like he’d cleaned you countless times, lovingly and with ardent attention.
You were halfway through closing it, your stitches surprisingly even and measured, when he spoke again.
“There was a part of me,” Maxi said quietly, and it was all him. The Reaper had fully abated now. “That was convinced I could only ruin you.”
You glanced up at him, automatically skeptical as you continued your work. “Yeah?”
Maxi laughed, and it was low, with only a sliver of nervousness still. “I was convinced you were too good for all this. That you should have somethin’ else. Somethin’ better than… well.” He gestured around at the embalming room, at you working on his side. “A nice house in some suburb. Someone who loved you who was… safe. Who would never come home to you with so much dark at their heels. Who would never dream of — of contaminatin’ you with it.”
He looked away from you, and when he spoke again after a time, his voice was small. “I guess that part was right about me, huh.”
You snorted audibly, pausing what you were doing to meet his gaze. “Maxi. Look at me, baby.” When he complied, you spread your arms wide. “Do I look I’m here against my will?” You gestured to handiwork as you picked up the needle again. “Do I look like I’d be content to just sit and twiddle my thumbs in someone’s dollhouse, somewhere?”
He gazed at you, and you saw his eyes were just his again, a rich brown bordering on burgundy and looking vaguely dreamy as he studied your face.
Slowly, tentatively, he shook his head.
A part of you melted inwardly at how, even after all this time, a small smile crept over his face the longer he drank you in. Like he was always pleasantly surprised to recall just who had his heart, and vice versa.
“Really look, now,” you urged softly, leaning close to him again so you filled his vision. You gestured with a hand to the blood that thoroughly covered the lower half of your face. “Do I look like I think I’m ruined?”
Maxi’s eyes moved from yours down your face, lingering briefly on your lips before they met your gaze once more.
You leaned your forehead against his again, closing the gap between you. “All I see in this is a mirror of the person I love more than anything,” you whispered. With the hand that wasn’t hold the needle, you smeared some of the blood from your face on your fingers, then added it to the blood coating his skin. “That’s all.” You repeated the gesture in reverse, adding some of the blood from his skin to yours - even though you were sure it had transferred in your original acts, as well. The important thing was that he needed to see you choose it.
“I love you,” you reminded him softly. “And everything that comes with you.”
You returned your attention to the wound, tying off your stitches before opening a fresh bandage. “So what if that looks different on us?”
You smoothed the bandage and some clean gauze over the incision, sealing it off behind its protective barrier. You knew by morning, it would have no need of any of those things, already miraculously closed.
Your eyes returned to his, your hand lingering over your work nonetheless. “I already told you, there’s no one else I’d let under my skin,” you said, your lips barely an inch apart. “And you’re the only person I’d want to be with when I do something that scares me. When I might even scare myself.”
You didn’t think your eyes glowed like his, but for just an instant, you swore this is what it would feel like. This certainty. This resolve.
You let him see it on your face. “I chose you,” you said quietly. “And I chose this too. Whatever shape it takes. Or I take.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re the only person I’d trust with whatever I become, love.”
Maxi’s arms encircled your waist, and the way his eyes sparked with light again, you could swear the two of you would burn if you stayed this close.
“The dark is so much better with you in it,” he whispered. “If you’re happy, then I’d spend an eternity here with you.”
“Good.” You smiled, reveling in his closeness. “Because I’m happy.”
The moon outside was the only thing that came close to how bright you felt against that endless night when he kissed you again.
— If the mortuary opened an hour later the next morning, no one complained.
It couldn’t be helped — it had been a hell of a time getting all that blood out of your bed sheets.
Even then, with all the remaining tinges of rust, you’d both eventually conceded to relegate them to being for “fun” rather than for regular sleep.
They wouldn’t be the last set you ruined, by far.
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(so uh. a very dear friend of mine mentioned they'd sent this blog to someone they liked irl. and I would just like to say, on the offchance they're still reading this at all -
sup ig. [waves]
anyway! if you've read this far, as always, you're a saint and also wow what are you doing a the devil's sacrament buddy :'D
this might be the last long-ish piece I post for a while bc I have to make a mad dash on my dissertation before the end of the semester, but I will still be here, circling, reading every word directed my way, thinking deeply on them, appreciating them, taking forever to respond as always
Ilu all <3 happy belated halloween, cheers to spooky season year-round for the believers)
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colagifs · 9 months
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BREE KISH GIF PACK  [UPDATED]
In the SOURCE LINK you will find [ 45 ] gifs of BREE KISH in VARIOUS TIKTOKS.
She is an American Model and 27 years old (1996).
CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A  
RULES — You may edit these into gif icons, crackships, use in graphics etc.   — If you make anything you share publicly please tag and credit me. — Have fun <3
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medusa-rpg · 2 years
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Agata Wiśniewska (400×640)
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quasargifs · 1 year
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matt mcgorry gif pack
by clicking the SOURCE LINK below you will find 257 gifs of american actor MATT MCGORRY from his role in the tv show ARCHIVE 81 (2022). Matt was born in 1986 (36 years old) and is of jewish descent. all these gifs were made from scratch by me, so please do not repost / claim as your own / if you edit them in any way credit me.
please LIKE/REBLOG this post if you find it useful !
❕ my COMMISSIONS are currently OPEN, click here for more info or please consider supporting me on KO-FI ☕ if you can. Click here to get the gifs in a preorganized rar file.
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cw for guns/violence and flashing lights.
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notaboorp · 30 days
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irena drezi
profil avacrea
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cafetempsrpg · 9 days
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Izzy Nicholls x10
-Fc Féminin ; Anglaise ; 1997
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svejarph · 1 year
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melanie lynskey gif pack
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CLICK THE SOURCE LINK BELOW and you will be redirected to a ko-fi shop link ($0+) to gain access to #309 245x150px gifs of Melanie Lynskey as Shauna Sadecki in Yellowjackets Season 1 (2021)! These were created from scratch by Sveja. Do what you want with these, just don’t repost/claim as your own, don’t use them to play Melanie or in any smut/smut-based blogs, and like/reblog if using. If you like what I’m doing, feel free to commission me (/commissionsinfo) or send me a ko-fi (/svejarph).
Melanie was 42-44 during filming, is white (Irish, English, Scottish), and is considered to be plus-sized.
tw: implied cheating, gore, murder ; alcohol, blood, club lighting, drinking, eating, flashing lights, flickering lights, food, medical, shaky camera
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jarofstyles · 2 years
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Sugar, Sugar 3
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Besties… the date 🫡
Hehehehe
Bold = y/n
Italics = h
——-
H: what does one wear to a farmers market
H: is it a flannel exclusive event? Farmer dungarees? Or ‘over alls’? I’m assuming denim?
Sugar: I mean… anything. Lol. It isn’t a dress coded thing. I’m wearing jeans, nothing too fancy.
Sugar: though… I would enjoy seeing you in overalls.
H: har har. Very funny.
H: I didn’t want to show up with trousers and supposed to be in cowboy boots or something!
Sugar: I know. It would have been very cute though.
H: yeehaw, and all that. Xx
———-
H: do I need to bring anything to the farmers market?
H: and are there flowers there? I’m researching a little bit.
Sugar: researching???
Sugar: H… you’re very cute. But it’s okay. Relax :)
Sugar: ps yes there are many many flowers
H: sorry… I’m just excited. I want it to be a good time for you. X
Sugar: do not apologize!!! Please.. this is the most effort anyone’s made to know the situation before a date. So… I’m just finding it endearing.
H: oh… :) well good. I’m sad no one else has made the effort but I’m happy I’m a step above. Xx
Sugar: trust me, so far? You’re miles above, Baker Boy. Xx
-
H: I just wanted to let you know I’m very excited for our date. And I’m happy you said yes. Sorry if this is too early. Xx
Sugar: is it part of your baker agenda to be this sweet all the time? Gonna give me a cavity.
Sugar: but… I’m very happy you asked. It was a good text to wake up to. Don’t worry. I’m very excited to see you today.
H: good. I’ll see you in a bit. :) xx
-
Harry was, quite frankly, shitting himself. He hadn’t been to the farmers market before, and while it didn’t seem like a big deal from what he researched, he hadn’t realized the entire downtown was such an ordeal this early in the morning on a Sunday. Tents lined the grass covered middle of their town center, dogs walking peacefully next to their owners on their leashes, soft tinkling music playing… it wasn’t something he’d been to before. And it was something Sugar loved.
He had stressed for hours in his closet on finding a good outfit. It took multiple try ons, a few curses, irritated huffs and an embarrassing amount of Pinterest inspo searches before settling on black trousers and a sage green linen top with some greenery embroidered on the pocket. The sleeves rolled up and the first 3 buttons undone, his hair was swooped back and he wore the necklace she had gotten him. He rarely took it off, actually. The man had to park a bit further than anticipated, which did end up stressing him out a little bit. He hadn’t realized how busy it would actually be down here. It had just been a worry that she wouldn’t be able to find him and think he was late- a personal pet peeve of his- but he heard his name being called just as his phone had been slipped out of his pocket.
Fucks sake.
Harry swallowed thickly as he watched her approach. Y/N hadn’t dressed like this before, and it had his mouth a bit dry as he got a first real, good look at her.
Bell bottom jeans- real ones with the wide bottom - in a darker wash denim. Clung to her in all the right places. The curve of her hips, the thick of her fucking thighs, molded to each dip in her body before beginning to flare out at the knee. The top.. was again, off shoulder, but a soft green to match his own. Chiffon puff sleeve covered the top of her arm and down to the middle of her forearm. It was… almost corset like. Tight enough to have her breasts out more than before was used to. It wasn’t too much, not at all. It was just… fucking stunning.
Her signature necklaces were added plus a longer chain that was covered in simple, little star charms. Her hair down, so fucking pretty and soft looking he wanted to run his hands into it. A cream colored silk hair scarf kept most of it out of her face besides two tendrils that framed her face, the rest running down.
The beautiful girl’s lips looked so pretty and soft, slightly glossy this time. He noticed in the light there was a bit of a sparkle to them. Was there glitter in the gloss? Her eyelashes seemed to be a bit longer… she had put a bit more makeup on than normal. She looked amazing every day, but knowing she put so much effort in for their date… it had his head swimming.
“Jesus.” He whispered as he approached her, not realizing he said it out loud until she replied.
“Mm, not my name, Baker boy.” She teased, tucking her phone into her pocket and adjusting the simple brown faux leather mini bag. Her two tote bags hung at her side. Harry was scanning her body with a newfound intensity but for once, she didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was abundantly clear that he liked it, especially with his little comment. Then the blush.
“Sorry.” He said sheepishly. “You just look… fucks sake, Sugar.” His hands went to her hips, the warm palms heating the fabric of the denim. “Amazing. Look so pretty. I, for some reason, didn’t compute you said you were wearing jeans.” He murmured, gently tucking his finger into her belt loop and pulling on it playfully. “They look incredible on you.”
She fell into his chest for a hug, laughing quietly at his astonishment. It wasn’t like she ever hid her body, but she got it. He had a much better idea of her now. Seems like he liked it, though. “Thank you.” She chirped, pulling out of his hug. “Why don’t we get started, hm? You can stare as we go.” He agreed. If they didn’t get a move on he was definitely going to be called out for drooling over her.
—-
Harry was fairly certain the farmers market was one of the best things in town. How he hadn’t been here before, he had no clue, but it was straight up his alley. There were local farmers, organic goods. Handmade soaps and house goods. Art. Delicious food. Locally made cheese and wine, which he had guiltily stolen one of Y/N’s tote bags to carry with a promise of letting her fill that one up too.
He loved it.
What he loved more though, was watching her. He did as she had suggested, a whole lot of staring. Watching as she conversed with familiar faces and introduced him to people, telling him all about where her normal stops were.
“Locally made is always better, i think.” She said softly as they wandered one of the many farmers booths. “I love local made jams the best. Once you start them, or the preserves, the store bought stuff tastes like artificial garbage. Trust me.” She held up a glass jar with strawberry jam. “It’s amazing on pancakes and crackers. Or on home made scones… though, your scones are too good to put anything else on.” Her words made him grin, losing a bit of his nerves.
She was comfort. The warm sun that hit them from between trees had nothing on how warm she made him feel. A golden energy radiated off of her like sunbeams, warming his skin each time he caught her eyes. He couldn’t stop his touchy feely nature anymore, looping his finger in her jeans and standing behind her. The tote bag carrying hand moved it to his forearm, resting his hand on her waist.
Usually, not a comfortable stop for her. What if he felt her stomach rolls? Or if she got sweaty? What if he didn’t like how soft she was, or how much was there? But immediately upon feeling his hand squeeze, she relaxed. His chin rested on the side of her head, looking over her shoulder at the plethora of local jams. Blueberry, raspberry, peach, mandarin, grape, boysenberry… a lot of others that he didn’t even realize could be made locally.
“Why don’t you pick one out for me t’keep at my place? Your favorite one?” He spoke quietly, just for her to hear. Taking a large risk with his presumptions. He sounded incredibly confident and easy with his words but internally he was freaking out at the assumption he had made.
“Hm?” She asked, flustered at both his words and his touch. “Awfully quick of you, H.” The tone revealed she wasn’t upset or freaked out about it though. In fact? Y/N was more than pleased at what he was implying. The date was going well enough for him to see them doing more? “Moving in my jam before me… I guess the jeans have worked wonders on you.”
She didn’t expect his answer at all.
“Oh, you’ve no idea, Sugar.” It was a deep purr from his mouth, lips brushing her ear. A cool shiver ran up her spine before settling the vibrations in the base of her tummy. Spreading down towards between her thighs much further than she wanted to admit. “I like them more than you can imagine. But I don’t suppose those thoughts wouldn’t to be too appropriate for a family friendly market.” His hand squeezed her waist again before reaching past her and handing some cash to the attendant, paying for both of their jars.
“Come on.” Going for it since he had just gave the biggest and riskiest flirtation of the day so far, he grabbed her hand and threaded their fingers together. “Show me where to get the fresh berries.”
——
Touching her was something Harry had already had issues with but now it felt as though he was addicted to. That, and flirting with her. She was something that he hadn’t expected in the journey of opening up his own bakery. Y/N was the most pleasant surprise. Witty and able to keep up with his banter, genuinely kind and friendly towards anyone she met.
There was probably hearts in his eyes as he followed her around with her hand locked in one of his and her tote bags carried in the other. Playing the act of doting date and loving it far more than he ever had in the past. The sun was shining through the trees and her soft hums as she browsed a local artist’s hand made crochet hats soothed a part of his soul he hadn’t realized needed saving. His body naturally fell in sync with hers, letting her guide him to her local spots and eating up every time she introduced him to people with a soft, dreamy tone in her voice. Every time she cut her eyes at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, he felt it and preened internally.
“What do you think?” She asked, holding a lavender bucket hat. It was crocheted in classic granny squares with the shape of sunflowers in the middle, and it was a funky piece- but he quite liked it for that. Y/N’s style was a bit out there and eclectic and it matched him in a way. It seemed like a very odd thing to him because of how easily and well she slid into different pieces of his life. Molded to him. And he, her.
“I think it’s lovely. Would go with that… erm, maxi skirt right? The one you wore on Wednesday, has the sparkle things sewn on and it’s the same color.” A giddy grin lifted on her sparkly lips as she nodded excitedly. He paid that much attention to her outfits?
“Yes! It’s sequins, by the way. But yes. exactly. Can wear it with a black or white top too.” She murmured, stroking the soft yarn in her hands. “Was torn between this one and the yellow but I’ve got so much yellow already.” Y/N loved gold, yellow, any warm color. A burnt Orange was beautiful too. But she tried to step out of her comfort zone and lavender was a lovely soft color that suited her quite well.
Harry picked up the yellow one and held it in his hand. It was rather soft… and she had wanted the yellow one. So he made a split second decision, gently removing his hand from hers and taking both hats up to the artist.
“Both of these, please.” He ignored her sputter in the back, handing over the bills to the pleased artist and told her to keep the change. Harry wasn’t a super spendy person normally. He budgeted because he likes to be comfortable. His inheritance wasn’t something he enjoyed touching, but now he had money coming in. The bakery was booming, his bills were paid. He had always liked being a giver in relationships… spoiling. So he at least wanted to do something like this.
Y/N was speechless as he turned to her. At first she wanted to scold him. Tell him not to spend his money and she could have gotten it. But the twinkle in his eye and the pure happiness he had on his face as he turned to her and handed her the hat and placing the yellow one in ‘his’ tote he had overtaken… all she could do was give a tiny pout.
“Harry..” she spoke softly, approaching him as he walked out of the tent. “You didn’t have to pay for mine but I really appreciate it.” Her smile was enough of a payment for him. Harry took hers from her hands and put it in her tote too after letting her take another look.
Y/N wasn’t about to say no if he wanted to do something nice for him. So often she knew women didn’t allow proper nice treatment of themselves because they were afraid of being taken advantage of. It had been her in the past. However Harry? He had proven to be a genuinely kind person. Why would she fight him in wanting to gift her something when he would match?
“I know I didn’t have to. I just wanted to. Trust me…” he gently tugged her closer by the hand, opposite resting on the nape of her neck. “I think you’ll look adorable in it. I match in the yellow one… and you can borrow the yellow one whenever you want. I’m happy you agreed to go out with me.” He stroked the side of her neck with his thumb, smiling down at her shy look. It was a relief she wasn’t angry or didn’t take it as an offense. His Sugar deserved good things. The best. And if Harry could provide them for her? He would love to.
“Now… we should eat something. I saw apple cider donuts advertised on one of the food trucks. Plus, they’ve got specialty teas and I’m sure you know the run down. Show me which to get.” She was an expert in the teas, after all.
——
Sitting beneath a shady oak tree, Y/N leaned against the bark while Harry sat right up against her to her left. In between their legs were their designated tote bags and the food they’d purchased from the trucks. Well- Harry purchased the food and Y/N got the teas. He had been a bit pouty about that.
The warm breeze felt lovely against his skin and the heat of her skin against his leg felt even better. Their spread of food was a mishmash of things they’d found interesting to try and some of Y/N’s favorites. “So… apple cider mini donuts, Mac n’ Cheese balls, summer strawberry salad, truffle fries- or crisps, you’d say- seem to be quite a combination.” She laughed as she opened up the bag of sugary donuts, popping one out of it and bringing it up to his mouth.
Harry was pleased with the open affection he got in return. All day he noticed himself being clingier but every time she simply melted into his touch or smiled lightly. She herself hadn’t been super touchy at first but as they hung around in a more romantic context, he got to see more of her. Got to bask in the most amazing feeling of her full attention. He’d never realized how easily she made him turn into a full on puppy until he opened his mouth and swore if he had a tail it would be wagging.
He allowed the little donut to be popped into his mouth, but kept her hand close to him. He hummed with approval as the sugary sweetness dissolved on his tongue, buttery and sweet for his tastebuds. “S’perfect.” The coo was left with a nervous giggle from Y/N, and his hand pulling hers back to suck the ones that have served him the treat clean.
Y/N swore she would die. Feeling his tongue brushing her fingers, his eyes on her the whole time. A slightly darker green than before, even in the sunlight. The slick feeling of them brushing the loose sugar crystals off of the pads of her fingers with a soft hum again… it had her throbbing right between her thighs. When he pulled them out of his mouth with a pop, the mischievous grin had her scoffing.
“You… are a menace.” She whispered, narrowing her eyes to avoid thinking about the feeling between her legs and the flush she felt in her chest and neck. Of course he played dumb for it, tilting his head with the biggest little shit grin she’d ever seen.
“Hm? And why is that?” Green eyes lightened. Y/N was winded just from the action itself. Feeling him suck her fingers and give her a naughty twinkle in his eyes. He was so much trouble, this man. Deep dimples imprinted in those chiseled cheeks, making her feel almost infuriated at how gorgeous he truly was. Harry was a work of art. And this work of art was eating up her flustered face.
“Oh, hush.” Feeling a bit weird, she grabbed another donut and stuffed it into his mouth. Harry’s blatant flirting had her feeling like she was slipped into a hot tub, bubbles and all overtaking her body. Luckily he took it in stride, simply snickering as he took his donut and chewed it with a puffed out cheek.
There was a comfortable silence between them both as she leaned into him slightly bringing the pomegranate strawberry tea up to her mouth. The pink straw between her lips and a popping pearl traveling up the thicker length, making her hum with delight. For Harry, she had chosen a blueberry kiwi tea with mango popping pearls. It suited his vibe she thinks.
“You know…” she began as she closed her eyes and placed her cup back down. “I’m glad you were so excited to come. And that you suggested this as our date. It’s difficult at times….” Her lips pursed as he watched with a soft affection, the anticipation of what she was going to say rising his nerves. “It’s hard to find people to click with. Who I feel understand me. Especially men, no offense.” She peeled open an eye and saw him shake his head with that pretty dimpled smile.
“It’s like… m’happy with myself. I love myself. It’s just I’m aware that I have and am an acquired taste. The witch things and being the way I am, it can give people some polarizing vibes. Or they have a very odd preconceived idea of who I am. That I sit and give people the evil eye or I’m about to tell them their dead grandma has come with a message.” the end of the sentence had them both breaking into a giggle. “And while mediums are lovely, I am not one. People don’t know a lot about spiritual or metaphysical things, and it’s a tricky book to open when it’s gone from shunned to popularized very quickly. I grew up with my grandmother pulling out her tarot cards for questions I was unsure about, placing wards on the corners of our properties, making pretty little spell jars with dried flowers and glitter. Making Ostara eggs for when everyone else was doing Easter. There was no such thing as a too personal question in my grandmother’s house and everything has been there to cultivate me into the person I am now. I like it.” She grabbed his hand and felt it being slightly damp and cool from his holding of his tea.
“It was really nice to come into your shop and meet you… and not feel judged. You took every gift with no false sense of politeness. You asked about all of the things I brought you. Hell…” she turned towards him and let her fingers brush his chest as she grabbed the necklace. “See? You wore what I gave you. You could have written me off but you didn’t. And it meant a lot to me.” Y/N’s eyes were so soft, it turned his body to jelly. Her hand holding his and her fingers brushing his chest while she toggled with his necklace, and Harry swore it was movie like how his heart was beating and the sun broke through the leaves to highlight the curve of her nose.
“Of course I would.” His voice was tender in tone, squeezing her hand as he scooted a bit closer to her. “Listen.” Pink lips were wet with his tongue, eyes searching hers to get a read. “I want to know about it. I want to know about you. If it’s important to you, your way of life? I want t’know. I may not understand it, I may not even believe in some bits. But I will always do my best to try and do everything in my power to learn what I can from you.”
Harry had this ability to break down walls she didn’t even recognize were slowly being built. Crumbling them with a whispered breath. Making her believe that someone truly cared- especially from men. Men were a difficult subject but especially for her. While being plus size, dating wasn’t particularly easy. You had the people who thought of your body as a fetish, who wanted to keep you a secret, who were ashamed of being attracted to bigger women, people who wanted an experiment. Harry was none of these.
There was no shame walking with her, he was affectionate, he hadn’t commented on her stomach or wanting to over feed her. It was genuine and raw connection and it made her feel like she was on top of the fucking world.
“Well… I’m willing to tell you whatever you want. About me, about any witchy things. Just in general. I’m an open book.” She played with the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling a tiny bit shy under his gaze. “I want to get to know you, too.” Feeling a bit frisky, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the slight scruff of his cheek.
Harry flushed himself but his smile was large, immediately wanting her back in the same vicinity. Kisses were a reward, preening over the attention. Her lips had been soft and he got a hint of her sweet perfume, the breath being stolen from his body completely as she pulled away.
A simple cheek kiss had made him feel tingly and hot under the skin. That alone had him realizing this was something real. Something he couldn’t waste. At all. Harry was in for it now, and he couldn’t fucking wait.
“Well… let’s get to knowing each other, Shall we?”
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ofmymuses · 1 year
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loey lane via ig
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yourdailyqueer · 1 year
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Verity Smith
Gender: Transgender man
Sexuality: N/A
DOB: N/A
Ethnicity: White - British
Occupation: Prof rugby player, activist
Note: In 2019, he suffered a severe spinal injury after being tackled by a female player. After recovering from the injury, he played wheelchair rugby with the Leeds Rhinos.
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skygifs · 11 months
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GÜMEÇ ALPAY ASLAN GIF PACK**
find a payhip link in the source to access 153 gifs of gümeç alpay aslan as sivekar hatun in muhteşem yüzyıl: kösem (magnificent century: kosem) episodes 57, 58, 59   . all gifs were make by me from scratch. please reblog if using
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you may edit them, however permission and credit is required for redistributing. do not make into gif icons smaller than 100x100.
do not use to rp as real people (including historical figures) or against them/in groups with them
do not post in gif sets/gif hunts
do not use for smut threads
do not use to rp as/against minors
full rules, ko-fi,& commission information in pinned post. please reblog if using
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