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lovelyunholyc · 1 year

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heyo :)

what are your thoughts on nanami with a breeding kink lmao

why hello my dear, i'm so glad u asked 🤭

nsfw !! minors and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked !!

fem! reader, breeding kink, pregnancy mention but no actual pregnancy (yet?!), unprotected sex, creampie.

"more," you breathe, in spite of your lungs protesting, in spite of the way your heartbeat thuds so loudly in your ears you can hardly hear the faint, whispery little whines that escape you with every deep, intentional sweep of his hips.

"more?" nanami asks, his tone playful, cocking his head to the side in question as he pauses to brush away the damp hair sticking to your forehead with those long, elegant fingers. "you want more, darling?" he moves your legs over his shoulders, shuddering along with you when that shifts him into a different angle - a deeper, more precise one that nudges the tip of his dick right up against your sweetest spot, making you whine again. "can you take it? for me?" his voice grows more strained the longer he speaks, gasping as he tries to keep his composure when your walls are so snug and tight around him, when you're practically sucking him in, arching into his warmth and writhing against your bed in pure pleasure.

you're so wet it's been beyond obscene, the evidence of your arousal and his making a mess of you - it drips out of you from the countless times he's cum and made you cum, you've lost track of how many times at this point, especially with the way he always puts your pleasure above his. your thoughts are all muddled, brain fuzzy and overwhelmed in the best way, but you can't get enough, pulling and squeezing at him and deliriously begging for more, more, more, lost in ecstasy and the adoration you hold so deeply for him.

nanami is all too happy to comply, just as lost in his bliss, in the carnal, nearly animalistic need to fill you until you can take no more, to pleasure you until he's certain he is all you can see, feel, think about.

and nanami does not often consider himself a selfish man - he actively tries not to be, but above all else, you make it so incredibly difficult.

"yes, ken, p-please, i need you," you're whining, nearly begging, nodding your head desperately at his queries as he draws his hips back, slow and deliberate, just so you can feel every ridge and vein of him along your walls. he gets his desired effect, that sweet little gasp of yours, the tears glittering across your pretty eyes and leaking out of the corners like diamonds in the low light of your shared room. and when he glances down, the practically mouthwatering sight of your combined juices coating the base of his cock as he inches it out of your sweet cunt, the way it glistens on your skin.

for someone so meticulous, he sometimes still wonders why the mess of it, the inherent debauchery it symbolizes, fascinates him so.

he stops just before the head of his cock pops free, turns to press his lips across your knee over his shoulder, chuckles a little bit into your skin as he slowly - excruciatingly slowly - slides himself back into the velvet clutch of your walls. "need more, hm?" his voice is like honey, just the right amount of gruff at the edges from heat, desire, maybe exertion. it sends pleasant chills down your spine, your fingers searching blindly until you find his grasp and weave in between his own.

"i can give you more, my love," he murmurs, leaning in to mouth at your jaw, nipping lightly at your skin just as you gasp at how he slides home just like that, buried to the hilt in you once more. "everything i have, it's all yours."

you moan as he starts moving again, undulating his hips steadily, slowly building up your pleasure once more.

"anything you want," he's at the edge of your jaw, his breath tickling your ear, teeth picking at your lobe, "i'll give it to you." his voice is so deep and low now you think you can feel it thrum through your entire body.

even in your delirium you search for his lips, tilting towards him until he kisses you without question, letting go of your hand only to cradle your cheek as you open up for him, sucking on his tongue and moaning so sweetly.

nanami pulls away to get you to breathe, smirking a little at how insatiable you are, how lovely you look spread out underneath him, heart squeezing at how much you trust him with this most vulnerable part of you; it is never lost on him, and he thinks he'll be more than happy to worship you and your body for as long as you'll have him.

"ken," you pant, one hand on his cheek too, the other gliding down to rest just underneath your own stomach, where you tap lovingly, gifting him a weak, albeit mischievous little smile. "wanna feel you."

nanami groans from deep within his chest, marveling at how quickly and easily you can spark that inherently depraved instinct within him.

he falters for only a moment before his pace quickens, and he's pounding into you so ferociously, you're clawing at his back, barely coherent, tugging at him and whining encouragingly.

he had never been this selfish, not until he met you, not until you'd ripped his heart wide open. not until you'd given him everything you had, and asked for nothing in return, not until he'd attempted to give you the world, and all you wanted was him.

would it really be selfish, then, to give you what you'd asked so sweetly for? to fill you up, as much as you like, to shape you to his cock and paint your walls with his seed, until it drips onto your skin and your sheets and makes a mess of you like he's been doing for lord only knows how long now, to give it all to you until your belly's full of him, until you're full of him...?

and if you still wanted more of him, would it really be so selfish to fill you with his babies, to prop your hips up like that and make sure it takes, to make love to you every night until you're round with life, with his life, his and yours, and beyond that?

nanami leans in just to kiss you, just to swallow up your lovely little sounds and tell you how much he loves you, though you already know. he slides his hand between your bodies to rub mercilessly at your clit, nipping at your neck as your whole body writhes beneath him, follows each forceful thrust of his hips. he savors your broken cry of his name when you cum - he isn't sure which one this is, he can't be bothered to keep count, but you're just as beautiful each time, just as addicting to watch, to feel as your walls clench and flutter around him, and you lose yourself to this little slice of heaven only he can give you.

he digs his hips into yours until he can't, the tip of his cock shoved up against your cervix, and he can't hold it off any longer, he spills into you with a shudder and your name on his lips, your fingers in his hair and your heart against his ear.

he doesn't stop until he's spent, and undoubtedly sure he's fulfilled his promise of giving you everything he has.

in other words, yes.

and he doesn't realize he has it until you bring it up, and doesn't get super vocal about it until he's comfortable in your relationship, and you've actually talked about it and your future and whether or not you want a family because he's a respectful king and will always and has always taken precautions either way

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eddieschains · 10 months

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It’s Really Over, Isn’t It?

A/N: this is a repost from when i first started my blog

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 2 Part 3

7 months and 23 days. That’s how long it’s been since you last saw Eddie. You spent 3 years together, pushed him to focus on graduating, until he pushed you out. At least that’s how you saw it.

You knew he wanted to take Corroded Coffin farther than Gareth’s garage, farther than The Hideout, farther than Hawkins, but you always figured he’d wait for you. He always knew your plans to go to college, and promised to stick around for you. He must’ve forgotten about that promise.

“Y/N I can’t stay here. I need to leave, need a fresh start, need to make something of myself other than being a freak and an outcast.”

“And what about me Eddie? Do you not remember the promise you made to me? That you’d wait for me? That we’d start fresh together?”

“Then come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that Eddie. We both have dreams and we both need to make those come true but I don’t understand why you can’t do that here?”

“This is Hawkins! No one cares about me or about my music here!”

“I care about you! I care about you and I thought you cared about me too.”

“I do but… I’m sorry I need to do this for myself. Wait for me. I’ll be back. I promise.”

“I’ve heard those words before.”

Even though he shattered your heart into a million pieces, you did what he asked. You waited. You waited for months without a visit, a letter, or even a phone call. You waited until you couldn’t wait anymore.

Starting to come with the terms that he wasn’t coming back, you doubled down and tried your best to move on. You focused on your school work and got a job at the local video store. You soon became close friends with the other people who worked there, Steve and Robin. You faintly remembered them from school but never had a conversation.

They comforted and consoled you every time you came into work with mascara stained tears on your face, or when they watched the way you jumped every time a boy with long brown hair and a jean jacket walked in.

You and Steve grew particularly close, both of you bonding over your recent heartbreaks. The two of you never had the intention of starting a romantic relationship with each other, but after spending so much time together and having so much in common, it kind of just happened.

Steve had finally gotten fed up with both living in Hawkins and living with his parents, so he decided to get a place of his own. Feeling the same way, it was only natural that you’d go with him. At least someone wanted you to be part of their plans.

It was finally moving day, and Steve gathered a couple of his friends to help you guys pack and load everything into the back of the BMW. It also gave you guys time to say your goodbyes before you start living like true adults. You weren’t going to be too far from Hawkins, but you knew you weren’t going to have as much time to visit as you’d like.

“All right babe, I think that’s the last of it.” Steve says, shutting the trunk full of boxes. You smile and nod before turning to the gang.

“My god I can’t believe you guys are leaving me.” Robin blurted, pulling you in for a hug. “Now who’s going to help me pick out cute girls at the store?”

You chuckled, “I guess you’ll have to leave that to Keith.” Robin makes a gagging noise before pulling Steve in for a hug as well.

“Hey, you.” You look at Dustin, seeing tears trying to form in his eyes. “We’re only going to be 30 minutes away. And you can visit anytime you want.” You reassure him, rubbing his shoulder.

“Just sucks. First Eddie and now you guys…” He trails off. You feel a pit in your stomach at the mention of his name. No one really talked about him around you, not wanting to bring up the pain again. “Shit. Sorry.”

You smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay Dusty Bun.” You wrap your arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’ll be back soon.”

You turn to the sound of keys jingling, looking to see Steve motioning you into the car. You say your final goodbyes before hopping in the passenger seat.

The drive is quiet. Nothing but the radio and the sound of cars passing by. Your head is leant up against the window, watching the Hawkins trees slowly disappear in the car mirror.

Steve takes notice, placing a hand on your thigh. “You okay?” You jump at his sudden touch.

“Y-yeah i’m fine.” You place your hand over his and flash a smile. You weren’t fine. You couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. It wasn’t Dustin’s fault for bringing him up, but ever since you heard his name leave his mouth, it’s all you could think about.

About how he was supposed to be the one you got an apartment with. He was supposed to be the one you left Hawkins with. He was supposed to be the one you started the rest of your life with. But you had to push that all behind you. You had Steve now, and Eddie wasn’t coming back. It had been 7 months for christ’s sake.

Finally reaching the apartment complex, Steve stays behind to fill out the remaining paperwork while you start to bring the boxes inside. The apartments are decent, not glamorous by any means, but definitely the nicest units you and Steve could afford.

You were walking up the stairs to your new home, box in hand when you heard a familiar voice. It caught you off guard. You knew that voice. It sounded just like Eddie, but you brushed it off thinking it could never be him.

You set the box down outside the door before running back to the car to grab another box. Walking back up the stairs, you see a tall man with long curly hair and a leather jacket on. There’s absolutely no way it’s him. At least that’s what you thought. He turned to face you when he heard your footsteps, and the both of you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Y/N?” He questioned. You could feel the heat rushing to your head, trying to figure out if this was reality or if you were dreaming. “Hey… it’s me.”

“Eddie.” You blurt out, blinking your eyes rapidly to see if you could wake yourself up. It doesn’t work, and you’re faced with quite possibly the worst thing that could happen to you on this day. “Hi.”

“Hey… uh what are you doing here?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking you up and down.

“Uh i’m moving in.” You respond, holding the box up for him to see. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh… uh my uncle moved in here, needed to leave Hawkins.” Of course he did. Something the two of them had in common.

“Oh nice nice. Uh- I should really start moving these in.” You try to walk past him to your door before he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“Wait. Can we talk?”

“I don’t know what you’d want to talk about Eddie. You left, I moved on, that’s that.”

“I don’t want that to be it.” He’s staring into your eyes, and you see the remorse behind his brown corneas.

“You left me Eddie. You left me and you didn’t write, didn’t call, didn’t visit. I don’t know what else you want from me.” You pushed past him, setting the box down with the others.

“I know I did, trust me I know. But, I waited for you. I know I hurt you and I wanted to give you space but- I thought you’d reach out eventually.”

“Why would I do that? 3 years Eddie. That’s how long we were together until you threw it all away. Until- until you broke my heart.” You feel the tears creeping up, trying to suppress them. “And i’m sorry but I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who isn’t going to just throw me away like I never existed.”

He hangs his head in shame, taking in what you’re saying to him. And he knows it’s true. All of it. He knows you deserve better. He looks down at the boxes and points to one of them. “Why does that say Steve on it?”

Shit.

“Uh that’s my boyfriends.” You shyly explain.

“Boyfriend? Who-uh-who’s Steve? Where is he?” You now see the tears starting to form in his own eyes.

“Steve Harrington.”

“King fucking Steve? Seriously?” He yells, but it’s not an angry yell. It’s a yell of sadness. The realization that he lost his chance.

“Yeah. King Steve.” You almost chuckle at the nickname.

“You guys are living here… together?”

“I mean that’s the plan, yeah.” You respond.

“So it’s really over, isn’t it?” This time he can’t hold back his tears. Letting all of the emotions he’s held in up to this point flow out.

You look at him, the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with, and he’s broken. You don’t know what LA did to him, but you knew it wasn’t good. He would’ve never acted like this before he left and you knew that. You can’t respond with words, just your eyes. But he understands.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps and look to find Steve coming up the steps. Finally. He’s carrying a car seat in his hand, sleeping baby sat inside of it.

“Whose baby is that?” Eddie questions the both of you. You look at Steve, who’s looking between you and Eddie.

Fuck.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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wren-of-the-woods · 1 year

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Curse Fic Recs

I absolutely love Witcher fics where a character gets cursed so I thought I'd share some of my favorites! All of them are Geraskier except for a few Lambden ones at the end.

If anyone has other fics to reccommend, please feel free to give them a shoutout – I’d love to read them!

Cursed Jaskier

A Friend in the Wild by @samstree (Rated T, 1k)

In which Geralt acquires a tiny mouse friend who wouldn't stop following him.

If There's Any Sleep At Night by @smolalienbee (Rated T, 22k)

A mare, also known as a mara or a zmora - a malicious entity, a bringer of nightmares and a demon of the night. An easy enough contract to fulfill, if only frustrating, or at least that’s what Geralt believes when he first sets out to hunt down one such mare. What he doesn’t expect is to be wrapped up in a tale of a wronged soul, of love and of joy.

My Name is Hidden On Your Tongue by @anarchycox (Rated T, 10k)

Jaskier is cursed. Well his whole family line is. Every male born child cannot be named. They can be given a name, but it will never be a true one and people will always have an allergic reaction to saying this false name. Only a soulmate speaking your true name aloud will break the curse. The family though has never cared, they've only cared about the family fortune and marrying well. But Jaskier cares. He is determined to travel the world, find his soulmate and learn what his name is. And the best way to travel the world seems to be with a rather taciturn witcher named Geralt of Rivia. If he started to hope that Geralt would be the one to say his true name, well that was one thing that Jaskier would not say aloud.

The Cursed Jewels of Lettenhove by GoldenDaydreams (Rated T, 8k)

Geralt has no intention of getting involved with breaking a curse and naturally ends up very involved.

Silver and Copper by @heronfem (Rated M, 56k)

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

Priceless by @handwrittenhello (Rated M, 38k)

Jaskier was cursed as a child; when spilled, his blood turns to rubies and his tears turn to diamonds. When his secret is discovered, Geralt must save him from those who would take advantage of it. Together they work to break the curse, but the cost might end up being too steep.

Set My Wings on Fire by bilboakenshield27 (Not Rated, 4k)

Jaskier gets turned into a bird and has to warn Geralt about an ambush.

Sleep of the Dead by @dancedelion (Rated T, 20k)

Jaskier thinks he hit rock bottom when Geralt flushed twenty years of friendship down the drain, but then he finds himself suddenly translucent and rudely walked through by a traveller. Apparently he's dead - that's certainly a new low. He needs to find out what happened, and who better to help him than the man who's made more than clear he wants nothing to do with him.

The Sandpiper by @welcomemysentence (Rated T, 2k)

When Jaskier gets cursed into an actual sandpiper, the little coast bird, the only way to save him is with true love's kiss.

What's Engraved Upon My Heart (In Letters Deeply Worn) by @made-of-constellations-blog (Rated T, 6k)

Jaskier gets cursed to be a lark with a strange failsafe to turn him back. Geralt misses this, and realizes too late that he's not ready to lose his bard.

to be held by @wanderlust-t (Rated T, 1k)

The knife dropped on the ground. And Geralt’s thoughts reached to a halt for a moment. He had no rope. Not anything to keep Jaskier still. To hold him back. Oh. That was going to be a really long night.

Catskier by @al-in-my-head (Rated T, 17k)

Due to an unfortunate encounter with a mage while him and Geralt are apart, Jaskier is transformed into a cat. It just so happens that Geralt likes talking to animals.

Cursed Geralt

A Marvelous Night for a Moondance by @flowercrown-bard (Rated T, 1k)

There was a warning every child living near Oakwood Valley knew. "Don't go out at night, or you'll disturb the Moonlit Dancer." No one truly knew who the Moonlit Dancer was, but everyone agreed on two things: The Dancer must be dangerous. And he must be oh so lonely.

animal instinct by leodesic (Rated M, 13k)

Despite Jaskier's hard work, there are still plenty of people who hate witchers. They think they're monstrous, inhuman, only held back from violence by a thin veneer of control. One mage has a plan to spread his views by capturing a witcher and bewitching them to remove their control. When the Butcher of Blaviken walks into his hideout, he's convinced he's found the perfect candidate - and a convenient way to get rid of the pesky bard that's been singing his praises. Jaskier is forced to agree witchers are not human, but that doesn't mean they're dangerous. In fact, he's astounded by how many of Geralt's uncontrolled impulses involve touching.

Connecting dots by @dapandapod (Rated G, 3k)

Geralt is hit with a lying curse, and it takes Jaskier an embarrassing amount of time to figure it out. Now, it Jaskier only would stick to the safe questions....

Don't Go Stealing My Heart by @thesilverqueenlady (Rated T, 17k)

When Jaskier is stiffed by a lord on payment, he decides to help himself to proper compensation. Alongside the correct amount of gold and silver, he also steals a beautiful silver wolf's head medallion. It's safe to say that he is not expecting the medallion to be haunted by the spirit of a very grumpy, very handsome, very cursed Witcher.

Cuddles, Curses, and Confusion by me :D (Rated T, 3k)

Geralt becomes oddly affectionate after being cursed by a mage. Jaskier would just like his life to be less complicated, please.

Spectre's Soul also by me :D (Rated T, 31k)

When Jaskier tried to go on a date with a man named Rience, he did not expect to nearly be killed. He certainly did not expect to discover a beautiful valley while running away from him. He very definitely did not expect to find out that the valley was haunted — by an absurdly beautiful man. Or: In which Geralt is cursed to be a ghost and Jaskier is the first person in decades to talk to him.

Cursed Aiden

Headache at First Sight by YorkAndDelta (Rated T, 12k)

A story of how Lambert ends up looking after a cursed cat, helping a Witcher from a rival school retrieve his gear from angry mages, and maybe finds love along the way.

Cursed Lambert

the mortifying ordeal of being known as a cat by @skaldingrayne Rated M, 10k

Lambert is cursed to be a cat. Fortunately, he finds Jaskier.

You can find my other reclists here!

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt #jaskier #wren recs #wren talks #lambden #the witcher fic rec #reclist #twn #i actually made this list a few months ago and then completely forgot it in my google drive until today lol #but i found it today so here you go!#:D

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year

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i remember u posting a story on your old blog about harry fingering yn in the mirror and i am going to NEED you to recreate that. i will get on my knees and beg if i need to xx

Ask and you shall receive😋

Yn has no clue how she and Harry ended up in this position, sat in front of a mirror with her completely naked, Harry sat behind her with warm hands rubbing up and down her thighs. She’s been feeling a little self conscious lately about her body, especially her vagina, and Harry will put a stop to that right now. He rubs at her thighs until they start to relax, a small smile forming on his face as they do.

“That’s it, let Daddy see that pretty pussy,” he coaxes, hands warm on her thighs. A soft moan leaves her lips at his filthy words, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she complies. Both eyes are locked on the spot between her legs as she spreads them, Harry groaning quietly as he takes in the beautiful sight. He can see all of her, the wetness that’s started to drip down from between her lips, the hairs that cover her pubic bone as well as part of her lips.

He can’t help but reach down there and spread them apart with his fingers, watching intently as her dripping hole clenches around nothing. “Fuck, just look at you. S’fucking gorgeous I can’t even think,” he whispers, just running a ringed finger between her folds gently, just in his own little world.

She gets impatient rather quickly, bucking her hips to meet his hand and snapping him out of his daze. “Daddy, please,” she begs, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He wastes no more time before sinking that same finger into her, pressing in until she can feel the cool sensation of his ring against her heated lips.

The moan she lets out is full of relief when he curls that finger and hooks onto her g-spot with purpose, pulling it out just to push back in and do it again. He keeps that up until she’s used to the feeling, adding another before he decides to speed up. The pace has her grasping at his wrist with a gasp of shock that breaks off into a moan, her legs attempting to close around his wrist. Her hips pull away a bit as the pleasure grows into something foreign, scaring her a bit.

He’s not having that at all, landing a harsh slap onto her thigh before pulling it back and killing it there. “Don’t you dare try and run. You’re going to take it unless you use your safeword, and I don’t hear that so I’m not stopping,” he rasps into her ear, the dominant undertone to his voice only pushing her closer as her moans get louder and her squirms get more frequent.

“Open your fucking eyes or I’ll stop right now. Look at how fucking beautiful you are taking my fingers like this,” he demands, the words getting softer as they bleed into more comforting ones. “Such a good girl, don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he finishes, and the stark contrast between his words and his actions have her locking down on his fingers with no warning, a strong orgasm tearing through her, a broken moan leaving her lips.

He praises her the entire time, his fingers slowing before coming to a halt as she begins to float back to earth. He’s murmuring praises about how she did so well for him into her ear, her head falling back against his shoulder as her chest heaves from the intensity.

When she notices that his fingers are still inside of her she slowly opens her eyes to try and meet his in the mirror, and the dark look on his face tells her everything she needs to know. He knows her limits and he plans on toeing the line of each one of them today. Before she can even begin to protest, he’s moving those same two fingers again, the sensitivity making her mouth fall open in yet another broken moan.

“No, baby. Not done yet,” he coos, kissing the side of her head all the way down to her shoulders as her moans turn into loud sobs of pleasure, taking everything he has to offer. “Such a good girl, letting me do as I please. We’ll be done soon and then I’ll really take care of you. Y’wont even remember all those nasty thoughts anymore,” he promises.

It takes no more than two more minutes of him praising her and keeping up that pace for her to be on the edge again, and when he lets go of her thigh and starts to rub tight circles onto her clit, she’s gone rigid and her eyes have rolled back into her head as her orgasm starts to wrack through her body.

She’s silent for a moment, her breathing stopped as he doesn’t let up for even a second, and then her body relaxes and a loud squeal falls from her lips as she begins to squirt all over them and the mirror. He’s rasping out praises mixed in with filth into her ear as she lets go like never before, and by the time she’s finished her body is limp and she’s on the brink of being unconscious.

He pulls his soaked fingers out of her and licks them clean, Yn’s mind just barely registering the lewd action. She whines softly when he moves from behind her, lying her down on the cool floor before crawling around to place himself in front of her. She’s still trying to catch her breath when she feels him spread her thighs once more, and then she hears him speaking, her eyes widening a fraction at his words.

“You lie right there baby, just gonna clean you up a bit,” he whispers, settling between her thighs before taking her clit between his lips.

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aphroditelovesu · 7 months

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The Lost Queen - VIII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,064.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 8

You knew it wasn't the right thing to do, that you weren't thinking straight but you didn't care.

You needed comfort, affection and Perdiccas was willing to give it to you. It wasn't that you were planning on having sex with him, you hadn't thought about going that far, but a few kisses and silly hands weren't going to kill you both, right?

Perdiccas touched your face as he kissed you, deepening the kiss. You felt his tongue touch yours shyly, as if he was asking for permission to kiss you.

It warmed you inside, it felt good to know someone still cared about what you wanted.

''You're so sweet...'' The general whispered after you separated. You blushed a little but smiled, looking at your hands that were intertwined.

''Oh, yeah?'' You laughed.

''Hey, look at me.'' He said and you looked up, staring into those mesmerizing blue eyes that threatened to make you weak in the knees, ''Your eyes are beautiful, just like you.''

''Do you say that to everyone?'' You joked and he laughed, shaking his head in denial.

''Only for the one I like.'' He winked at you.

Your heart beat faster.

''Perdiccas, I-'' You were interrupted, when he placed a finger on your lips.

''Don't.''

You frowned, ''Don't what?''

''Don't do that.''

You were speechless when he started staring at you with such intensity that it scared you. And you felt a discomfort, a pain, take over your body as those ocean blue eyes filled with tears and an indescribable pain took over them.

''Perdiccas...''

''Why, (Y/N)? Why do I feel this way about you? What's wrong with me?!'' He started to question you frantically and you pulled him into your arms, trying to calm him down.

''Shhh...''

''I don't want to feel like this!'' You'd be lying if you said his words didn't affect you, because they did. They stirred your heart in the same way the kiss had done.

''It wasn't my intention...'' You tried to defend yourself, but you knew there was no way. The truth was that you didn't even know why you felt this way, you knew that you couldn't create feelings for him, because if you didn't... Everything would be in vain, you would not only cause him pain but yourself when you left.

Because you would leave. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? So why did the thought of abandoning Perdiccas bother you so much?

''Does not matter. It doesn't matter how I feel about you.'' His words were like a dagger being thrust into your heart. Perdiccas pulled away from your embrace.

''Please...'' You closed his eyes, not bearing to look at him right now.

''Please what, (Y/N)? I can't bear this, I can't!'' He exploded and stood up, facing you. You felt like crying but you weren't going to do it. Not again.

Perdiccas let the tears fall from his eyes, finally letting all the feelings that were consuming him out.

''I can't bear for you to marry him...'' He sniffled, ''I can't think of him touching you, of him kissing you without me wanting to kill my own King and friend, I... I can't avoid feeling uncontrolled jealousy at the thought of you being with him...''

You started to cry at his words. You opened your eyes and stood up, hugging him tightly. Perdiccas wrapped his arms around you, crying along with you.

''I don't want to marry him!'' You whimpered, ''I don't! I can't...''

Perdiccas tightened his hold on you.

''You don't have to marry him...'' He whispered in your ear.

His words just made you feel like screaming. You had no choice, couldn't he see that? You were at a crossroads and you knew the only choice was to marry Alexander and you didn't want to.

You didn't want to be his wife or his Queen. You didn't want any of this, the only thing you wanted was to be home. With your family, your friends and your cat.

Instead you were stuck in the 4th century BC. and with a King with serious drinking, anger and megalomania problems who wanted to marry you. It seemed like a very bad joke.

''What do I do, Perdiccas?'' You squeezed him, placing your head against his shoulder.

He was silent for a few minutes.

''Perdiccas?'' You called him again.

''...Marry me.''

You jerked away and almost fell in the process. ''What?!''

Perdiccas looked at you seriously, ''Marry me.''

You laughed bitterly, ''Are you kidding me? Because if you are, that's not funny!''

''I'm not kidding, (Y/N). I want you to marry me.'' He replied seriously, hoping you would say yes.

''You-'' You couldn't even respond properly, too shocked by his words.

Perdiccas approached you and took your hands, looking at your face with love. ''Marry me, (Y/N). I beg you to say yes.''

Part of you wanted to say yes, that you would marry him, but you knew you couldn't. Although being Perdiccas' wife would certainly be more enjoyable than Alexander's, you couldn't put his life at risk. You had seen what Alexander had done to Cleitus, you couldn't even imagine what he would do to Perdiccas if you accepted his proposal.

''I can't...''

Perdiccas squeezed his hands, not enough for it to hurt. ''Why not, (Y/N)?'' His voice was desperate and full of pain and it broke your heart even more.

''Alexander, he could hurt you! I won't take the risk of you dying or suffering something worse.''

''I don't mind. I don't care if I have to die, I don't mind dying if I have the honor of having you as my wife.'' He rested his forehead against yours, ''I don't mind because I'd rather suffer the worst torture of I have to see you married to my friend. Than to see you have his children.''

You smiled a little, ''But I care.''

''Let's run away then!'' He said hastily, ''Let's go far away from all this, from everyone, from Alexander. A place where just you and I could be together. Maybe we can go to the place where you lived, where no one would recognize us.''

You blinked in surprise, ''Do you want to leave Alexander's army? Become a deserter?''

''For you, yes.'' He replied without any hesitation in his voice. You shook your head.

''Perdiccas, look, I-'' You stopped talking quickly when someone entered the tent. You quickly walked away from the general when you noticed that it was Ptolemy who had entered.

Ptolemy looked at you suspiciously and shook his head, muttering something to himself. He approached where you were.

''Alexander wants to talk to you.'' He simply said, alternating his gaze between you and Perdiccas. You learned that Ptolemy knew something had happened between you, but he decided to keep it to himself.

''With me?'' You asked just to be sure. Ptolemy nodded.

You stared at Perdiccas who looked like he wanted to strangle Ptolemy. You said goodbye quickly and left the tent without saying anything. Maybe it was an act of cowardice, but you couldn't look at Perdiccas now.

Not without wanting to grab him and say yes to his offer.

''What did you do?'' Ptolemy asked as you left. He crossed his arms and faced his friend with a seriousness only seen in battle.

Perdiccas frowned, ''What do you mean?'' Fortunately his tears had stopped and dried, the only thing that gave him away was his red and slightly swollen eyes.

Ptolemy sighed loudly and looked up, ''I am no fool, Perdiccas. I know something happened between you and I want to know what it is.''

''And why should I owe you any explanation?''

''Because I'm your friend and I care about you enough to not want you to die or end up like Cleitus.'' Ptolemy replied, impatiently.

''Nothing happened.'' Perdiccas replied coldly.

''And why then don't I believe it?'' Ptolemy's voice was cold and serious, matching Perdiccas's.

Perdiccas shrugged, ''Believe what you want. Nothing happened between us, I was just talking to (Y/N) about the Cleitus situation. That is all.''

Ptolemy uncrossed his arms and stared at his friend intensely. Perdiccas shifted uncomfortably under Ptolemy's penetrating gaze. ''I didn't know you needed to be so close to talk.''

Perdiccas felt an absurd desire to strangle Ptolemy right then and there.

''I didn't know you were so nosy, friend.'' Perdiccas sneered. Ptolemy laughed humorlessly.

''Believe it or not, I'm protecting you and (Y/N).''

''Oh, really? And why would you do that?''

''Because I care. You're my friend and (Y/N) is... Important for some reason, I'm trying to take care of you. I don't want you to get hurt or end up getting stuck with a spear.'' Ptolemy explained and his gaze softened.

Perdiccas didn't respond, he just looked at the cot where Cleitus was lying unconscious.

''You can't have her, Perdiccas.''

Perdiccas faced Ptolemy again, his blue eyes filled with determination and hatred.

''That's what we're going to see.''

You were in front of Alexander's tent. You knew you should go in but you didn't want to. You didn't want to have to face him, not after everything that happened.

''Don't be a coward, (Y/N).'' You said to yourself and without flinching, you entered the tent with shaky legs.

You looked around curiously. It was a King's tent, indeed. Some candelabras flickered with fire, some chairs and a large table were in the right corner and some trunks were placed in front of a cot.

And on that cot, Alexander lay, looking at you intensely. You swallowed hard and fought the urge to run away.

''You came.'' Was the only thing he said. Alexander looked horrible, his chiton was dirty and stained with blood, Cleitus's blood. His blond hair was messy, his gaze drooped and he held a glass of wine in his right hand.

''I came.'' You replied, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Alexander stared at you for a few seconds and pointed to a jug of wine next to him, ''Do you want some?''

''No, thank you. I've had enough to drink today.''

''Hmm...''

You took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to say what you wanted to say. During the walk to his tent, you knew what you had to do, what you had to say, even if you hated it to your core.

''I-''

''You-''

You both spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time. You cleared your throat and said, ''Y-You can talk first.''

''Alright.'' He cleared his throat and began, ''I want to apologize for what happened today. It probably scared you and you should know that that wasn't my intention, I lost control today and I intend for that not to happen again.''

You looked at him, suspicious, ''It's okay.'' No, it wasn't but you needed to pretend. At least for a while.

Alexander stood up, staggering towards you. You fought the urge to step back, or run away. He walked over and came face to face with you.

''I am really sorry, (Y/N).''

Alexander touched your face with the palm of his hand and caressed it lightly. You took a deep breath, gathered all the courage you had and said without hesitation, ''I'm going to marry you.''

The affection stopped and Alexander smiled widely. Before you could say anything, he broke the distance between you and kissed you passionately.

You squealed in surprise at the kiss and tried to pull away, but Alexander pressed you against him. You closed your eyes and fought the urge to cry and gave in to Alexander's possessive kiss.

You prayed to the gods that you could leave soon. Before the wedding, preferably.

— lady l: I'm not going to say anything more than this: THE WEDDING IS COMING AND SO IS THE DRAMA WITH IT!!

And Perdiccas... Why does you propose to an involuntarily engaged woman? I hope you enjoyed it, forgive me for any mistakes until the next chapter!

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #the lost queen #tlq #yandere alexander te great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great #alexander the great x reader #yandere #long fic #fanfic

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eldritch-spouse · 7 months

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I swear this is my last ask for the night, I have been devoring your content and got the 601 badge for it, which I'm now proudly displaying on my blog. Anywhowitzers.

From my perusal of Vesper content, what if, his Queen desperately wants bio children of her own? Not just one. Maybe like, 4 with him. Originally was gonna shoot for like, 12 kids before she met him but understands that he has a limit.

His Queen has a big BIG momma bear streak as well and it breaks her heart when, with Vesper's mark, kids shy away from her out of uncomfortablness and she can't help but think, "Are my own children going to do the same?" She's always wanted at least 2 children of her own but upon learning about how concubi are around them, she's torn about if she should even try with Vesper and feels insecure about voicing what she wants because she's sure it would probably be countered with an immediate, "No." So she kind of slips into this funk, where engaging with rapture with him ends with a twist of deep despair because she knows that as much as she wishes for children of her own, she can't help but think it might be better to just give up that dream.

How would Vesper react to his Queen slipping into a depressive state upon that realization? Would he try to convince her that everything is fine as is? Would he try to speed up the process of turning his Queen into a Concubus so she wouldn't feel that desire anymore? Or maybe even try to actually conceive after learning about how she feels?

And then, let's say she does go through the transformation before having kids. She remembers her want for her own offspring and feels like a war is raging within her at almost all times. Her new instincts battling against her old dreams and desires. I feel like there would be times where she stares off into the distance, face twisted in disgust while tears drip from sorrowful eyes, and her hand clenched tightly against her stomach, nails digging in yet cupping herself tenderly.

- ZN

[It continues to fascinate me how people are so intent on shoving children upon Vesper. I've never even told you if he'd be good as a father, the sex appeal must create some sort of mental warp wherein people genuinely think it would work out- In spite of everything. Or maybe it's a deliberately torturous prompt, that I understand. I don't mind the asks though, congrats on the badge. 🎉 🤣]

Vesper will always push back on the topic of children, and it genuinely pains him that you're so focused on one, but you need to see things for what they are, and Vesper will not hesitate to open your eyes one day.

Look around you, you live in depravity. You are depravity- It's your new life! A child cannot he born into that life, ever. Not only would it wound everyone of his citizens to be in close proximity to them, that poor halfling would experience soul-shattering trauma that not a single person wants to imagine. You will not conceive anything in the grounds of Lust. Ever.

You cannot take an extended leave to the surface (or another Ring) for the purposes of carrying out a pregnancy and raising a child to at least eighteen years of age. He won't let you. That makes no sense to him. While it is true that demonlords of Lust have had kids before, these were mere transactions to acquire a direct heir who will grow up far away from them, which isn't something the most recent generations of Lust rulers are concerned with.

Can you do that? Can you separate yourself from your children after birth for that long? Do you fear they might resent you? It's risky business.

Vesper sits you down and he explains to you, at length, what a horrible idea having children would be. But please, there is no shame in having caring instincts. And, in his eyes, you should redirect that to the people around you. Take care of those within the mansion, take care of Lust residents in need (not just sexual need, of course), but please. For your own sake, don't try to establish contact with children.

Vesper is not about to sentence a potential child of his to a life of misery. He'd rather they not be born at all.

The Icon does tell you that your nature and your desires will change when your form does. That it will no longer be painful to exist childless, you will grow into a new age of your existence where that no longer weighs you down. Pain and sadness do not last forever, my Queen.

He will be there when it seems as if your own mind and body cannot come to an agreement, when your instincts fight, when you're torn inside out. It will fade.

It will fade.

One day you will be understand this is for the best.

Lust is not for the pure of heart.

#Vesper oc

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an-angels-fury · 2 years

Text

My Adam Frankenstein Headcanons: You loving the Creature ❤️

Hey guys! How are you doing? I had the idea to make this post some days ago and it took me some more to finally finish it. I was also very insecure about sharing this in my blog because I'm not very used to create headcanons (specially involving interaction between character and reader) and I'm afraid those ones I wrote might sound kinda silly (or too OOC), but I still tried my best. Hope that, at least, some of you still enjoy my ideas.

P.S.: My headcanons are based on Mary Shelley's novel and the 2004 Hallmark miniseries (at least that was my intention). But you still can try to use them with any other Frankenstein version/adaptation if you prefer.

Warning: Too much fluff 🥰 (and a little bit of angst)

The Creature was never used to any little gestures of love or gentle touches (actually all his experiences involving human touch only bring him back memories of suffering and pain), so be careful and don't act hastily when you try to get closer to him phisically to not frighten him away.

He'll try to keep distance from you too at first because he's too afraid of scaring you with his appearence. The thought of you running away from him, of being rejected just like so many times before in his life, specially by someone he cares about so dearly like you, tears his heart apart.

You'll have to be patient to gain his trust. Take little steps, do little actions, showing you intend no harm towards him. Look him in the eyes to show him you're not disgusted by his looks. Walk by his side to show him you're not intimidated by his presence. Slowly, try to take his hand and hold it gently in yours, showing him you truly desire his company.

At last, when you sense he feels safe enough around you, stand in front of him and touch his face (he's a 8-foot tall dude - TALL AS HELL - so better try to do it when he's sit or laid, just a suggestion). Hold it in your hands, caress his cheeks and trace his scars with your fingertips, carefully, and, if you have courage enough, give him a kiss in the head.

Don't get worried if he doesn't show reaction at all at first or remain motionless in his place for a moment, and suddenly start to sob and cry uncontrolably. His heart's a mess of intense and conflicting emotions and he never learned any other way to cope. He just can't believe that you, the most beautiful and luminous of all living beings, is right there, touching him, by your own free will. How could he be loved? HE, a monster, a hellish soul stuck in a body built of death and rotten flesh? This wasn't happening... it couldn't be real.

This will be the perfect opportunity to hold him for the first time. He definitely never felt so safe in someone's arms before (I mean, this is literally the first time he shares a hug with anyone...). This is what he always wanted: someone who wasn't scared to love him, someone who accepted and embraced him, wholly and completly, even the ugliest parts of his soul, the ones he was taught by the world to hate the most about himself.

After this single special moment, he'll always search for a chance to hug you too. You can't help but find extremely adorable the way this giant man, whose stare is enough to intimidate any presence in a room, is actually just a big cat pouring against your cheek, needy for care and attention that only you can offer.

You see no problem with it, actually you love the sensation of his big, strong arms around you, making you feel warm and protected from the world outside, specially when he carries you. But sometimes you have to remember him to be careful and slow down when he gets too excited. He's absurdly stronger than a ordinary man, so it's important to put some bounderies, which he'll totally respect, since he'd never forgive himself for hurting you, even accidently.

He also loves to hold you when you both sleep together and you could never deny him such pleasure. Lying in his big, warm chest, surrounded by his arms, hearing his slow breath and feeling his heartbeat, all of this brings you such a calm and comfortable sensation to your body and mind that you secretly wish to remain like this forever.

Being pratical and useful are important aspects of his love language (remember when he tried to help the De Lacey family before everything goes to shit?) He cares deeply about your needs and is decided to do everything out of his reach to help you accomplish your goals. Your happiness makes him happy. Your thankful smile and sincere words of kindness mean the world to him.

Give him pet names ('my love', 'my darling', etc.) to demonstrate your affection. He was never given a real name by his own creator, always being refered by him and other people as 'creature' at best and as 'wretch', 'devil', 'miserable' or 'abomination' at worst. Maybe he gets kinda confused at first, but after some time, when he gets used to it, he'll smile and try to do the same with you.

Talk to him about your tastes, hobbies and interests. He'd not only have a deep desire to know more about you and understand the world you live in, but would also love to share his own past experiences with you, all the fascinating things he learned by himself about life, nature and love. You both could spend hours teaching many lessons to each other, discovering new interesting content, spending a good and calm afternoon indicating your favorite books to one another, reading them together and then debate about what you both enjoyed the most.

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fe-fictions · 2 months

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Accidentally spent three hours scrolling on your blog reading your work it’s,,, addicting,,, can I request some Robin angst (of any kind, I love how just so very primed for angst they are)? Tysm!!!!!! <3

(In honor of recovering like ALL my lonk stories...here's some lonk being scared of holding his baby daughter!!!!)

When Lon’qu first realized children could come from the future, he secretly hoped his would be a boy. There was great relief when Morgan came along, and when he was born, there were no issues.

Then you became pregnant again, with a surprise baby. Both of you were stunned; this hadn’t been planned in the slightest.

Lon’qu’s past fears of having a daughter reared their heads again. He prayed and prayed it would be a boy. But luck didn’t come twice.

When Lon’qu was finally allowed into the delivery room, he found himself staring at his wife, smiling through her tears at a little bundle of pink blankets. A girl...?

“Oh gods... ” Lon’qu whispered, feeling his heartrate pick up. His chest tightened, and fingers shook. A girl. A vulnerable, fragile little girl.

“There you are... Lon’qu, come look at her. She’s got your hair.” You gasped, exhausted from the day’s work. Lon’qu used all the willpower he had to comply, slowly inching towards the bed.

She was pink, and soft, and very small. He tensed up just looking at her. She was quiet; he remembered Morgan was still crying even after you got to hold him.

Lon’qu didn’t know what to think beyond, ‘I have a daughter.’

Gods help him, he had a daughter.

“I wanted to name her Marc... it was Morgan’s... his silly idea but, the more I look at her... the more it fits.” You laughed tiredly, “What do you think?”

“I-I... i-it’s a girl... ”

“Of course it’s a girl, you thickheaded man.” Maribelle waved a hand dismissively at him, “She asked you if you wanted to name your daughter Marc. Aren’t you paying attention?”

“I d-don’t... ” Lon’qu could barely breathe. Your brow furrowed, watching your husband worriedly. He looked like he was on the brink of panic.

“Lon’qu? Are you okay?”

“He’s just starstruck.” Maribelle dismissed your concern, “And you’re just tired. I’ll hand the baby off to him, and you can get some rest. She’ll be hungry in a little while and you need to sleep before she wakes up, again.”

You watched warily as she took the baby from your arms, and tucked you back in.

“Here, now. The father gets to have his turn, too. I’m sure you remember how to properly hold a baby, right, Lon’qu?” She figured as she held Marc out for him to take.

To your dismay, he didn’t budge.

You watched as he backed away, his posture rigid as if he had every intention to run away. You knew he struggled with his gynophobia, but... was it really so bad that he couldn’t even hold his own daughter?

“Well, what are you waiting for? Will you hold her or not?”

“I... ” Lon’qu swallowed thickly, fidgeting as he inched away from you both. He shook his head, “I can’t.”

The shame that swallowed his heart at those words was nothing compared to the look on your face. The tears he could see build in your eyes as he turned away from his daughter.

-------------------------

It was hours after you had fallen asleep that Lon’qu moved, again. Maribelle had scolded him for a good while, settling the girl in the cradle by your bed. When she left, he finally decided it was time to make his move.

He knew he couldn’t let things be like this. He couldn’t just avoid his child. No matter how terrifying it felt, he hadn’t a choice.

He loved his daughter. He knew it, he just... had to prove it to himself.

With cautious steps, he came to where his daughter laid, grasping the side so tightly the wood could’ve snapped under his fingers.

He looked down at the bundle of blankets, and spotted the little fingers poking through, and that tuft of dark hair. His daughter.

Beneath the layers and layers of unreasonable fear, Lon’qu felt pride. Another child he had with the only woman he could ever love. He tilted his head; that couldn’t be true, anymore. Not now that he had this little girl to look after, too.

He sucked in a sharp breath, steeling himself. With trembling fingers, he reached in, and lifted the girl into his chest.

“... Marc... ” He whispered, doing his best to hold his own.

He felt her squirm under his nervous hold, knowing she could sense his discomfort. He grimaced; babies had a knack for that.

He sat down in the rocker beside the cradle, trying to relax. Deep breaths, he reminded himself. There was nothing to be afraid of.

This was his daughter; his little girl. ... His fragile, weak, vulnerable little baby of a daughter.

“F-forgive me, Marc.” He whispered, voice barely more than a breath. “I... I am only afraid because you are so small. If something happened to you... it would be like losing your mother... losing Ke’ri... all of it, all over again. I couldn’t bear it.”

He clutched her tighter, his head bowed as he gazed down at her peaceful rest.

“I’m sorry your father is such a coward. I should not have refused you. To think I did such a thing when you were just born... you must be so disappointed in me... ”

He shook his head, drawing one of his hands up. He held his finger to her, pushing it gently into her little hand.

His lips quirked a fraction of an inch upwards, feeling her itty bitty little fingers squeeze his tight.

“I... I promise, I won’t let it happen again. I’ll protect you. I won’t let any harm come to you, nor your mother or your big brother. He’ll be most excited to see you, too, y’know.”

He warmed at the feel of her snuggling into his chest, giving soft little squeaks as he spoke. She was so tender. So sweet.

Gods, he loved her so much.

“I promise, I’ll work harder than ever. I won’t... I won’t be scared. Not for you.” He promised her.

When you finally woke back up, your heartbreak was forgotten. There, dozing off in the chair, was Lon’qu holding your daughter, who looked plenty happy to be held by her father.

Though he was terribly embarrassed to have been caught, he came to your side, settling down beside you and doted on his two girls.

He would struggle with his daughter every now and again, but there was no question that he loved her with all his heart.

#lon'qu #robin #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fe awakening #fe: awakening #lonbin #lon'qu x robin #fem!robin #f!robin #f!mu #fluff #hurt and comfort #newborn angst #lonky loves his baby girl tho ;;;

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flordeamatista · 2 years

Note

𝘓𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

pairing: Beach Bar Owner!Ari Levison x curvy!Reader (any body type)

concept: Heaven is where he'll take you to

word count: 1.4k

warnings: one-night stand, poetic smut but a little of plot, unprotected sex, riding the soul out of Ari, spanking, vaginal sex, orgasms because Ari is a god of sex, size kink, body worshiping, nicknames ( princess)

a/n: Here is the first peek of my beach bar owner!Ari AU This was supposed to be a small drabble of their first one-night stand before the first few fics but here we are.

Beta'd by @jobean12-blog and @purpleshallot

line divider by @s-tarksintern

Masterlist

Touch my body and I will be his, if he comes close to me and whispers the secret of us

Attempting to distract oneself from world problems. It was your intention to find peace here in this small European town. The beefy man catches your eye, and you choose to have a taste of desire. He has forearm veins that are pure fantasy. The new chapter in life demands fantasy. Imagine the possibility of him grabbing your thighs.

You can taste his lips when you take a puff of his cigarette. Lips looking so ready to speak in their own tongue on your body, so willing to reveal the secrets of his body.

He glances at you delicately through those fluttering eyelashes, but his body is robbing all other men this night of their right to be with you or any night after tonight.

He literally yanks you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. His manhood is aligned with your dripping sex. While your hips buck, you whimper with the exhilaration of being so turned on. Grabbing your hips, he pushes you down onto him before thrusting himself forward, impaling your pussy on his thick cock. A pleasant sensation is felt throughout your body, and you savor it.

A squeal of pleasure comes from you when he enters deeply into your pussy. When he reaches the tip of it, you groan.

When he uses his grip on your hips to push you down at the desired rate, he doesn't give you time to adjust to the invasion. The movement of his hips helps him push you faster.

He met the shore of my hips like a tide flowing in and out, back and forth

Feeling the sensation of his cock inside of you, you begin to moan and rock your hips to the beat. Almost like your heart is thumping in rhythm with his. His dick touches the inner walls of your body in various directions as you rock and gyrate.

Your only concern was the full sensation of his heat. In the presence of him, he groaned and gasped, whispered, and screamed dirty nicknames in the room, and you had never felt more beautiful. While pulling your hair over your head, you felt the deepest sense of sexual pleasure that you'd had in months.

Heaven is what he'll take you to.

The solid, muscular body of this man cannot be ignored as you moan and embrace it. All your emotions, which have been bottled up for so long, can now be let free on this vessel. Suddenly, your whole life is swept away by the waves, and you feel an intense rush of lust consuming your body

The noise he made spurred you on to ask, "Do I feel good, am I making your cock feel good?".

"Keep talking shit and I'll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours." He smacks your ass with one hand, grasps a cheek, and squeezes it tightly.

In response to the sharp sting and then his rough squeeze, you feel the tears and cry out.

Your hips begin to move faster. You are planning to ride this man until dawn.

"Fuck me good, Princess," He whispers, spurring you on.

Increasing your speed, you rock and sway your hips, setting a fast pace that thunders over him. It fills the air with the scent of your lust as you are riding him so fiercely.

A fire you thought was extinguished has risen again, setting the butterflies aflutter.

Your muscles are being strengthened by this muscular man, and you are establishing yourself. He opens doors you wouldn't have thought to look through.

You ride him so intensely that the bed begins to shake slightly, the headboard slamming against the wall. The way he talks dirty to you makes you love every word, every measure of his hot mouth.

The more you grind him down, the more he grunts with pleasure.

The fingertips of his hands trace the contours of your breasts as they encircle them. When he pulls on your nipples, your back arches, forcing your tits even deeper into his palms. While groaning, he holds your nipples between his thumb and index finger and your teeth dig into your bottom lip as your fingers firmly press on his forearms.

With every stroke, the man's appeal changes. With every stroke, the beefy man feels the nails on your back and it's an incredible feeling. It's like someone is stirring up some magic.

A squeal of surprise escaped your lips as he moved swiftly and maneuvered the two of you onto the bed flat on your back. Even as you continue to make deep thrusts without even pulling himself away from you once.

You have never met a man like this, not even a man but a god. You are sleeping with the god of pleasure. He’s using you as his toy and you are taking it with every pleasure you can. This is the night you can be alive.

A mind-blowing kiss occurs as he moves his hips and locks his lips onto yours. Whimpering softly, you allow him to drive himself deeply into you with long, fluid strokes.

You don't hesitate to swallow lust if you kiss me this way.

He breaks the kiss by pulling your legs to rest on his shoulders, leaving you panting for air, and then resumes kissing you, digging further into your core. He smirks knowingly in your direction, his sapphire eyes glazed over with lust and longing.

He knows you're about to hit your peak. He continues at it, moving his hips to pound you deeply from different angles.

A thin coating of sweat has accumulated on his body, which you can see when you look up at him. You can hear his rapid breathing as he dives in and out of your center. You moan with pleasure, absorbed in the here and now.

You gasp as you feel him strike your tender regions with each push. Your eyes flutter shut as you sense yourself rising steadily and your body beginning to stiffen up. A growing sensation in your abdomen increases with every wave and stroke he makes.

Your eyes glisten, as your ears hear the sounds of passion.

He stared at you, with intense blue eyes, for the first time: no one had ever looked at you in such a way, as if you were an integral part of his soul.

As you finally realized you had made the right choice, you obstructed the view.

A few hours later, Ari woke up cold. Eventually, he was unable to feel the body that lay against him. Taking out a hand, he rubbed it over the area where you had been sleeping and looked up to find your earring. His spirits are revived.

The desire in your body for him might even border on madness.

The thought of not being able to touch him whenever you wanted would make your heart fall into the fiery pits of hell. However, at the same time, it's as if you'll never get to experience it again. In one night, you gave it all to that man.

Now you are settling down in this newly discovered town, wishing once more that you could sin again in lust with him.

Sipping your coffee, all you could think about was his lust for you and the marks on your body. There was a tingling sensation on your lips, not from the coffee, but from the mysterious man out on the water.

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clairedaring · 1 month

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Hi, I've seen your blog and it appears to me that you've watched a lot of gdh movies. So I was wondering this: what is your top 5 gdh movie? I, for my part, have only watched two so far: oh my girl ! and you, me and me which is one of my favorite movie this year so far.

it brings me to tears (happily) whenever someone talks to me about GDH films ಥ_ಥ so here are my favorite GDH films (in this order as of this moment, no. 2 to no. 5 interchange from time to time depending on my mood)

1. Bad Genius (2017) and Bad Genius: The Series (2020)

So whenever I'm asked about GDH, the first film I instantly recommend would be Bad Genius. Because not only is Bad Genius imho THE film that puts GDH on the map, I think it has a lot of influence on Thai cinematic works, and to some extent television works.

Essentially, Bad Genius is a story about Lin, a straight A student who team up with her friends to pull off a large scale cheating scheme on an SAT-like exam. It's a heist thriller drama that definitely leaves me feeling stressed out as hell as if I was there in the testing room with those students.

I know it's kind of a cheat to also add this, but whenever I recommend Bad Genius, I also must recommend Bad Genius: The Series which is a 12 episode series that serves as a more detailed+sequel version of the film. I love this series because the young actors of the series gave me a fresh take on the characters I already know and loved so I had a great time falling in love with all of them again. The series fixed a few plotholes/qualms I had with the cinematic version as well as an extensive background story on Bank (played by Nonkul Chanon in film, Jaonaay Jinjett in series), my favorite character from this franchise so Bad Genius: The Series is the one work I cannot recommend enough.

One of the things I love about the series as well is that it also maintained the exact same vibes and cinematography like color-grading, camerawork...

2. OMG! Oh My Girl (2022)

I am a sucker for 'seemingly unrequited love' and 'right person, wrong time' tropes so this film really hit ALL the spots for me at its release.

Stylisticaly speaking, I absolutely love the Wes Anderson-esque zoom-in-from-afar shots for comedic effect. many stellar comedic moments where i laughed out loud. I think the humor in this film is poignant, accompanied by great comedic timing from both leads.

One of the highlights of Oh My Girl aside from the many subversions to romcom clichés, I like how Guy (the ML played by the incredible Sky Wongravee) was a morally grey protagonist and that the film isn't afraid to call out his problematic "nice guy" facade. He's a self-aware jerk and I genuinely love his self-awareness.

3. One For The Road (2021)

So I didn't watch this at release and it took quite a while before I gathered the determination to sit down and watch this on Netflix on a late rainy evening. Little did I know, I would soon be crying screaming bawling my eyes.

One For The Road is about Aood (Ice Natara) who enlists his estranged friend, Boss (Tor Thanapob) on a road trip to return items to his exes before he dies.

If I had a nickel for every time GDH wanted to give me a selfish, jerky male protagonist, I would have like four or five nickels but it's crazy that it's happened so many times (formulaically one would say) and here I am still empathizing and crying over these kinda jerky male protagonists.

The soundtrack was just brilliant. To quote a review I once wrote, the director, the music score and composer were truly out for blood with the soundtrack for this movie and they did it. This film is a good example of how important soundtrack and film scores are to elevate the narrative being told.

There are so many things to praise about the production but if I had to choose one thing, it would be the excellent mise-en-scene of this film. Every shot is dazzling, intentional and fill with metaphors. It was truly beautiful.

4. Not Friends (2023)

So I went into this thinking it would be Thai take on Dear Evan Hansen but I was so glad that it wasn't the case even though there are similarities.

Not Friends continues to deliver GDH's classic "selfish jerky male protagonist" with Pae (Anthony Buisseret) who just transferred to a new school in his last year of high school. Seeing no chances in getting into university through the entrance exam, Pae decides to enter a film contest by making a film about Joe (Jump Pisitpol), his seat mate who recently passed away.

The film had me bawling my eyes out in theatres by the end. I love that there were a lot philosophical questions like how much we value a friend's worth in the film. If you like Baipor/Anthony tandem in You & Me & Me, Not Friends is a must-watch for this acting duo reunion.

5. The Con-Heartist (2020)

So for the last spot, I debated a lot between two romantic comedies (both starring Baifern Pimchanok), The Con-Heartist (2020) and Friend Zone (2019). I recently rewatched the former and was reminded by how much I love the zany humor in this film so she gets the last spot.

The Con-Heartist is about Noina (Baifern Pimchanok), who is in debt because of her ex-boyfriend so she hires a con artist, Tower (Nadech Kugimiya) to help her get revenge against her ex-boyfriend by swindling him.

Even though it's billed as a romantic comedy, I think it's more comedy-leaning compared to Friend Zone but I love the comedic moments the two leads, Baifern and Nadech. พี่ไม่หล่อลวง by BamBam is the OST song for the film and it has never left my Spotify Wrapped for the last 3 years 😭

+bonus: How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies (2024)

This is the first GDH film from 2024 and although it comes out in like two weeks, I can feel it's going to dethrone one of the films in my top 5 list for sure. If you're thinking of going to watch something at the cinema soon, I hope you consider checking out Lahn Mah this April!

I hope you give one of these GDH films a chance. I love watching GDH films because although they can have different directors/team of scriptwriters, they always end up with certain similarities (be it cinematography or screenplay or characters). While not all GDH films are incredible masterpieces but out of the Thai production houses for films, I would say GDH 559 (and its predecessor GTH) has the most solid record of having strong and compelling cinematic works.

#claire replies #gdh 559 #gdh films #thai cinema #asian cinema #thai film

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koishua · 2 years

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❍. °· “ 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. ”

→ choi beomgyu x gn!reader. 0.568k words. i wrote this in a pretty ugly headspace, so boom. angst. as always, beware as there are allusions to death. i cried twice while writing this short piece and had to take a break both times, so it's one of my heavier works for me personally and idek why haha anyways try to enjoy, because my heart certainly did. it was a cathartic experience. also as always i would appreciate a quick feedback <3

→ you and beomgyu talk about the future by the ocean.

The waves crash onto the shore in a beautiful cacophony, scenic and peaceful as you stand hand in hand with Choi Beomgyu. The clouds drift languidly, soft white wisps decorating the bluer than blue sky and the gulls dance above your heads, cawing over the sea. It’s a day not just of any kind— calm, as though not a single thing is wrong within the world you reside in. As though not a single worry plagues your mind, the only feelings you welcome are those of his fingers clasped around your palm and the soft breeze sweeping up your clothes, brushing against your exposed skin.

“We should get a house around here.”

Beomgyu is a charming man, soft spoken when he needs to, bold when the situation plays in his favour, kind and easy to get along with. At times stubborn, though he has never been afraid to show his vulnerabilities with you. You’ve seen his thousand faces, yet none has ever made your heart tremble in the way it does in this exact moment. So fragile, yet hopeful to a fault.

Your eyes find his and you squeeze his hand, exchanging weak smiles. With a full heart you accept the gentle kiss he presses on the crown of your head, closing your eyes as you bask in his safe and comforting presence. His touch is enough to make your heart ache— throbbing and heavy, as though it’s been crushed under the weight of everything dreary in existence.

“We should.” You reply, quiet and mournfully.

The man in your presence hums a simple tune, swinging your arms back and forth lazily as you approach the very edge of the rocky path. You are now surrounded by the water almost on all sides. “You think we might find one within the next month or two?”

You don’t have any other choice than to entertain his musings, nodding with a faint chuckle, “Maybe. If we do, then that’d be amazing.”

A shiver racks your entire body, leaving you to sink onto your knees as you hold back from crying out a choked sob. It’s impossible to stop the onslaught of tears that fight their way down your cheeks, staining the light grey asphalt into a darker shade. There is an unobstructable force squeezing the heart you’ve been left to take care of alone.

“Why are you so sad, my love?” He asks, a concerned look etched on his face.

Oh, how it hurts to watch as the man you love with your everything fade away into nothing— gradually, bit by bit. The haze in your mind clouds your thoughts as you scream above the waves that seem to be rising, intent on drowning you under them. It’s his name that tears beyond your lips, anguished and agonisingly. No one is around to hear your hysterical cries, desperate and downright deafening.

His voice rings distantly in your ears once again. “Don’t cry, my beautiful. I love you.”

Afraid to open your eyes to see your vision of him gone again, you try to tame your hiccups, hands clutching your arms in a self soothing hug. It’s a dangerously peaceful day and it hurts to open your eyes. It’s not a beautiful world, not a single ounce of desire left in you to go on living in it.

It’s not beautiful, no, not when he’s not here to hold your hands anymore.

taglist batch one: @junityy @99outros @heejojo @mark-lees-world @strwberrydinosaur @yourlocalhotgf @jdyunvrs @jitaros @luvholicz @spookybias @envirae @renjunvrse @iuwon @rae-blogging @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @astaia @glorybeom @tyongishs @wccycc @twntycm @sooblvr @icywhatim @yutaalove @yjwfav @yyxy27 @eternallyhyucks @w3bqrl @moontines @rielleluvs @not-camila @todorokiskitten @enha-hwajinna @jungwoniics @jayk2511 @ifwtyun @ily-cuz-i @misah0e @squiishymeow @enhacolor @clarakyunisageek @ahnneyong

#i cried ugly tears im not even kidding it's just that kind of a night tonight y'all :')#txt imagines #txt angst #txt beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #beomgyu angst #txt reactions

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loosesodamarble · 25 days

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Hiya Erika! For the ask game; may I ask for 4, 8, and 19 please 🥰?

Hee hee! Thanks for dropping in Lyra! It's always a pleasure to have you on my blog!

You may ask those questions! And answers you shall receive!

..........

4) with dialogue i'm proud of

Okay okay okay! I'm really proud of this particular snippet and its dialogue because it's primarily dialogue. Yes there are sentences to indicate action but I feel like the tenderness and adoration that Josele and Nacht share is really felt without outright telling the reader how they talk to each other (as in I don't use dialogue tags).

I especially like how the last few lines of dialogue, it's left vague as to who speaks what line. But it really works either way. And that's the intention and I kajshdglahsriuth!

“How many stars do you think there are?” Josele pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned into Nacht more. “Don’t know. But none of them are as pretty as you.” Nacht rested his cheek on the crown of Josele’s head. He began to rub her arm, up and down. “Heh heh! Where’d you get that line from?” “Nowhere. Or maybe you. You’ve always been like the stars to me. But better.” “That’s… You’re surprisingly romantic.” “I don’t try. But if it makes you happy.” “It does.” Their voices, growing quieter with each response, were carried into the night sky. “Are you getting tired?” “A little… I think it’s because you’re so warm.” “We’re wrapped in your cloak…” “Your handiwork. So it really is all thanks to you…” Nacht’s touch moved down Josele’s arm and came to rest on her hand. “Stay with me?” “Until the sunrise?” “No… Just stay with me…” “Of course…”

Nacht and Josele are just so... They're so soft here. Their relationship is a struggle but it's moments like this that make it worthwhile.

8) that hurt my own feelings to write

Someone requested Greyche hurt/comfort a while back and well, at first it hurt to write.

Grey went out into the hall. And again, she called out for Gauche. “Gauche? Gauche, please answer me!” Tears began stinging in Grey’s eyes. A still body… She started to tremble and even wrapping her arms around herself didn’t help. A heavy and limp body… Her heart sank with a familiar fear. Skin that only grew colder with each passing moment… What if that dream wasn’t a dream? But a memory that she was pushing down and trying to deny? Because surely Gauche, her reckless but resilient Gauche, would be with her if he was alive. Grey collapsed. She felt unfathomably heavy and yet dizzyingly hollow at the same time. It felt as though every fiber of her being was being pricked by needles. The sound that came out of Grey’s throat was pain incarnate. Strained. Desperate. Wretched. Grey couldn’t stand it. All she wanted was him at that moment. But he wasn’t there. Why wasn’t Gauche there for her?

I avoided writing out a full on panic attack (since I don't have first hand experience and I never read up on the topic) but finding a way to depict Grey replaying her nightmare and the effect of fear on her physical state had me misty-eyed.

I'm sorry Grey! I'm sorry I had to make you sad for a bit!

19) from that project that was SUPPOSED to be short but then i kept writing and now it is very long

Okay this isn't entirely my fault that this one thing became 12000+ words. It was a collab between me and @thoughtfullyrainynightmare. So I'll say she has (takes moment to create bs calculation) 14% of the blame?

The gentleness of her light, the politeness she offered to him, it invited him to stay rather than scare him off. She seemed like a light that Dusk's shadow could linger around. Cyraleona lifted her gaze and when she looked at the boy, she caught him once again staring at her with wide eyes just before he hurriedly looked away. She found it endearing, in the sense that she'd done the same before and understood. "P-perhaps you'd like to take your mind off of... those things," she said, glancing away as well. "And maybe find somewhere else to talk. Outside a restroom is..." "Unrefined? Or just weird?" A weak laugh, but a laugh all the same, passed his lips. "I was going to say smelly," Cyraleona joked in reply. She pointed down the hall. "There's a library not too far from here. Would you like to go there?" "Mm, s-sure." The two of them walked in silence towards the library. This time, instead of Cyraleona stepping ahead as the guide, the girl and boy were side-by-side, though there was a decent gap between their shoulders. A few times, Cyraleona took a look at the boy. His tears had dried and his expression relaxed, mostly, as a slight tension in his brow remained. His presence had become like his mana, cool and quiet. A far cry from his earlier state. She felt odd, not quite relaxed with the boy but his presence was not a pressure like it was with other nobles she's met. He's okay. Dusk observed her back. At the way she kept her hands close instead of letting them swing at her sides. He couldn't make sense of how someone who was light could struggle with others; then again, he didn't really know the girl. But what he did know was that when she glanced at him, it did make his heart flutter but it didn't make it tight with fear. She's okay.

The first meeting between Dusk and Cyra... The introverted sweethearts. The reason this collab ended up so long was because there was so much introspection for the two. They just kept thinking and acting with hesitation. But maybe that's the beauty of it too. Despite being bad at socializing, the two of them ended up spending a considerable amount of time together.

#questions from the ask box #ask game #soda asides #lyra of the future #also side note but digging through and reading my old writing...#i miss being able to write more consistently #i hope my writing drought comes to an end

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peach-cream-enmu-archive · 2 years

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Repost from my old blog

Dubcon? Reader pushes back and resists but for specific reasons. Mentions of the triplets being invasive and also really wanting to fuck you I guess. I think if I write anything black butler from now on that’s afab and/or fem the reader won’t be hairless so ;p you cry cuz Claude cums in you, soft moment from Claude as he kisses away your tears, but also teasing you by ‘lovingly’ rubbing your belly. Claude praises you but you can decide if it’s love. He stays with you after and watches you fall asleep so maybe it is

Being a maid at the Trancy estate, an estate full of perfect looking beautiful people, and being thrown around by Alois because you’re not a perfect skinny thing.

But in Claude’s eyes you are perfect.

A perfect meal, a cute moth caught in his web. Bigger than the others but no less delicate.

Your urge to bite back at the young master is fighting with your calm composure to keep your job. A struggle like the moth you are, wings caught in a web.

He can’t stop himself. Not after Alois strikes you particularly hard. Your lip split, nothing requiring stitches, but enough to have blood dripping down your chin into your trembling hand as Alois tells you to leave. He finds you in the kitchen, leaning over the sink, water running, blood swimming in the water as it drains.

You don’t hear him come in, or approach you, retrieve a towel from the drawer. He sees you startle when his bare hand came into view wetting the rag under the faucet. You stumble when he grasps your shoulder and turns you, pushing your back against the sink. His still gloved hand holds your chin as he dabs at the blood. Your smell is amazing, intoxicating, invigorating, and it takes every ounce of strength in him to not taste the towel in his hand.

When the stream finally slows to blood just beading on the surface of your lip he looks in your eyes. Those pretty eyes, often glassy with tears you fail to hold back. Your lip trembles and you breathe in a shaky breath and he can’t do it. Blood pushes through again, dripping down your lip.

He can’t stop himself. His eyes flash and he slides his hand from your chin to your neck.

He kisses you, taking your surprise as an opportunity, running his tongue on your lip, gathering your sinfully exquisite taste before licking his way into your mouth. Your tongue is warm, soft against his as he savors the gasps and whines you let out. You push at his chest and pull on his wrist as your unable to breath, it feels like he’s eating your very being through every gasp you fail to contain.

When he pulls away he notes that he’s healed your lip. He wasn’t planning on healing it but his eager licks did anyway. He hears footsteps in the hall and puts his hands high on your waist and he feels you tremble heavily. His lips brush your ear and his breath is hot. “The young master won’t want to see you for the rest of the day. Go to your room and stay there.”

He watches you back away, a hand clutching the fabric of your skirt and the other clenched near your heaving chest. He likes the look of fear in your eyes as you turn and hurry off.

It feels like a dream…maybe a nightmare, where you are now.

You’d sat and worried all day, wringing your hands and wiping your eyes. And when night came, as you’d sat on your bed in your sleep wear, your door opens. Assuming them to be one of the triples trying to get into your bed like always you hurry to it. Intent to yell at them you can’t even mutter a single word as Claude picks you up, locks your door, and throws you on your bed in one swift motion.

Your body bounces and you can’t even regain your senses as your breath is stolen from you again by Claude’s lips taking yours. You push and whine, those bothersome triplets are always listening in to your room, as his hands make quick work of your clothes, leaving you bare. His pulls away and pins your hands. He stares down at you with a look you’ve never seen but know the meaning of.

Like a hawk looking at a mouse beneath its talons, he’s looking at you like you’re food…no, you’re something else.

You hate how bare you are and your thighs squeeze together, hoping to keep him from seeing all of you. But the action only draws his eyes down to exactly what you wanted to hide. His hands, free of his gloves, trace feather light touches down your wrists, down your arms, and to your chest. He barely touches you, thumb barely ghosting over a nipple.

He wants you fighting more. To see those pretty wings and heavy body try to escape his web, try to get closer to his touch.

His hand dips lower, just under your belly, and you hand shoots down and grabs his. Your grip is tight, surprisingly so, and your eyes search his golden ones. You let out a shaky breath and let go of his hand. Your final act of resistance before accepting your fate, laying eased, prepared to be devoured.

His lips go straight for your neck and bite. The cry that escapes your lips eggs him on further. His canines pierce your skin after having sucked a mark in a noticeable spot, lapping up the blood that beads at the surface. His fingers stroke your lips and massage your clit with what feels like the touch of an angel.

How ironic.

The touch of his hand on your sex so graceful, while the touch of his tongue so sinful. He’s moaning as his tongue spreads your lips, gathers your slick, then licks a strip up to your clit. He’s eating you out as if he’s never eaten anything before and is finally experiencing the feeling of satiating pure hunger.

He’s not doing this for your pleasure. No, he’s doing this for his own greed. He wants to breathe you in, your soul and your scent, but he doesn’t plan on ever taking your soul. You need to stay in his web, a meal to come back to when his hunger strikes again and again.

Though his greed is what fuels his actions, when your heavy thighs clamp ever so slightly against his head, he’s removing his glasses and tossing them to the side. If either of you were of clear heads you’d realize how much that meant. Claude, a man so stoic and proper, tossing aside the thing he seems to care for most about his butler façade.

A hand grabs tightly to your thigh, squeezing when he feels the flesh pillow between his fingers. The other makes quick work of the buttons of his shirt. He pulls back just to sit up and remove both his jacket and shirt before taking his place at your cunt as if it’s where he belongs. He starts mumbling, growling almost.

“Fuck….To think I’m” a rough lick, “so taken by” a harsh suck of one of your lips, “by a mere human.”

You have no idea what he means, but you don’t care, you just want more. He cages you in, hands having taken yours and pinning them down beside your head. He’s panting, out of breath, something you’ve never seen from him.

“Not a single soul I’ve eaten could ever compare to your taste.”

He won’t let you even contemplate the meaning because his lips take yours, much like that kiss you had in the kitchen. He truly can’t hold back, as you feel the head of his cock press slowly at your sex. Your hands grab the pillow beneath your head so tightly you fear you might tear it, but Claude pulls your hands from it. Your need to hold something sends your hands to his biceps and he groans into the kiss as your nails dig into his skin.

His pace is relentless, and both of your sounds are so loud there’s a high chance the young master could hear, should he have not fallen asleep yet. You have a fleeting thought about how the triplets would get even bolder with their advances after hearing you tonight, but a powerful thrust to that spine numbing spot has your mind empty of all thoughts except Claude, and his hot cock inside you. Your eyes flutter closed and your voice catches in your throat, only escaping in soft punctuated whines with each thrust.

He wasn’t your first but he was the first in a long time. You’d been a maid for a while, and you absolutely weren’t going to the triplets for this, so you thought you’d never feel it again. He moans as his pace slows and his thrusts get harder, a growled ‘god…’ and a scoffed chuckle after a moment of pause. Your walls flutter around him and the smallest hitch in your whimpers tells him all he needs to know.

His arms loop under your thighs and he plants his palms on the bed on either side of you to hold himself. The back of your knees sit in the crook of his elbows and he leans down to you. The smirk on his face is haughty as you moan and writhe at the new depth he hits before he picks up his pace again.

Your sounds get so loud you hide your face in your hands, barely hearing how he chuckles down at you, almost fondly. You fall apart with every thrust as you creep closer to your peak and when your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your soft plush thighs quake in his hold. You skin soft against his lean muscles, Claude doesn’t fight the urge to bend and sink his teeth into your thigh.

You’re so ensnared in your own pleasure that you don’t register him stilling after one last hard thrust. You feel his hot cum flood your poor tight cunt but your brain doesn’t seem to think about the implications of this. When you settle enough to feel that he hadn’t pulled out you look down to where you two are connected.

Claude truly enjoys how you shake as tears well up in your eyes and cling to your pretty lashes. He decides you tease you, kissing away the tears that fall and splaying a hand out on your belly, rubbing gently with his thumb. He can’t get you pregnant, but you don’t need to know that. The fear and the small glimmer of love in your eye is worth it.

He cleans you gently. He doesnt want to break you. You’re his meal now after all. Not in the way the young master is, no. You’re purpose will go beyond when this contract is fulfilled.

He lays beside you as your shoulders shake as you look at him. Your eyes are closing and you’re obviously trying blink away sleep when you inch closer to him. It’s charming, how you truly can’t see the being that he is, thinking him a mere butler, infatuated with the maid who works alongside.

He watches as you fall asleep, your cute plump face resting so softly on your pillow, he has a small urge to show you a bit of human affection and kiss your cheek but doesn’t. There’s no need. He knows whether you wake up with him beside you or not, you’ll seek him out shyly tomorrow.

#Claude Faustus smut #black butler smut #cream butler #cream afab #cream fem #toasted sugar cream

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maybebabyplease · 1 year

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on ‘professional jealousy’ in your not-so-professional hobbies

really great essay here about professional jealousy, something i think about a lot with my fiction writing. most of my real-life fiction writing friends are older and more talented and more published than me, and sometimes it really stings to see them succeed in a way that i want to succeed, even when i know they deserve it and want to spend all my energy being happy for them. this feeling can bleed into your friendships and relationships, but i think it’s something everyone experiences. and thus, we ought to talk about it!

in fanfic, as in original fiction, you’re putting a piece of yourself out into the world to be judged (conversations on the validity of fanfic criticism/rating/ranking aside, the reality is that people will continue to do it either way) and the reactions to your work are likely to be different than the reactions to your friends’ and peers’ work. the subject of ‘professional jealousy’, or as the essay deems it, disappointment, applies here just as much as it does to original fiction.

i find that i see a lot of posts about fanfic that imply that it’s somehow ‘bad’ to care about the success of your fic, defining success as the number of hits or kudos or comments or whatever digit puts you ahead of someone else. certainly, there are many reasons to write fanfiction. but i consider it to be a little disingenuous to act like no one cares (or is allowed to care) about whether or not people read their fic.

to me, storytelling is at its core a search for human connection. fanfiction seeks this same thing, this connection with readers and other writers, and perhaps with more intensity. we are obsessed with these characters, and these stories, and these tropes. we want to find other people who share our obsessions. we want to connect. i think this is clear in the tags people continually search on ao3, in the ask boxes of tumblr users who like to discuss headcanons and hot takes, on the works pages of writers who create for their one favorite ship over and over again. it’s a really gorgeous thing, the way we all love what we do, and the way we love it together.

it’s natural to want to connect over your stories. you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t get a little thrill at that email notification from ao3, letting you know that someone laughed or cried or screamed over something you created. it’s normal to appreciate this feeling and it’s normal to want more of it. i do personally find that the best and most satisfying fanfiction is the fic you write for yourself, but i have also found great joy in the two or three comments on the fics i thought no one would read, because it’s so special to find people who enjoy the specific things you enjoy. i’m not necessarily unhappy with lesser-read fics of mine; i love them all equally and i’m proud of each one. but i can’t sit here and say that i wouldn’t be thrilled if more people found them and loved them and left comments about a particular trope i love or a joke i thought i was so funny for writing. humans are an inherently social species, and those moments of connection are valuable even when you’re doing something just for yourself.

you can write for yourself and still want people to read it. you can write for yourself and still be disappointed when your fic doesn’t do as well as someone else’s, or even as well as one of your own previous fics. you can be happy with what you’ve written, and still wish it was as ‘popular’ as another fic you love. i think we need to create space for this particular disappointment, because people will continue to feel this way about their work. and i’m not saying we all ought to go screaming about it on our blogs, as that seems to lead to people tearing down other more popular works, which is not the intention of opening this discussion.

the essay suggests having a friend with whom you can express disappointment and know you’ll get an appropriate reaction. luckily, fanfiction has (at least in my experience) led to an incredible community of kind, empathetic people who likely share your exact interests. so this advice works perfectly in the land of fic. perhaps you have a friend who writes for a different ship than you, or even a different fandom altogether. perhaps you have a friend who writes the exact same types of stories of you, but who particularly understands the way you feel. or, perhaps you have a friend who doesn’t read fic at all who can be a totally unbiased sounding board.

no matter what, don’t be afraid to share your disappointment! it’s not something that has to be shameful. you can write fanfic for all the ‘right’ reasons and still get disappointed. you’re only human.

(i’d love to have conversations about this -- i know lots of people that i like and respect have different opinions about ‘success’ in the world of fanfic and comparing yourself to ‘more popular’ writers and the tiktokification of fic, which i do feel like relates here but did not want to get into. hit the comments on this post or my dms or whatever! i love to DISCUSS!) (essay linked again here for viz)

#em speaks #on writing #on disappointment #on fanfiction #also even if you don't want to read my thoughts you should read this essay #it is so good #and so valuable #i wish people talked more about negative emotions #i am anti toxic positivity #sometimes you're just fucking JEALOUS and that is a-ok!!!!!#also this is about writing bc that's what i know but #it could apply to visual art too i'm sure

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somewherebetweendisorder · 5 months

Text

We'll Do It Together

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, angst, angst. talk of self harm and depression

A/N: originally posted to my old blog (basicallybats). this is a heavy fic, so please pay attention to the warnings. if this isn't for you, just skip it. thank you for reading <3

Everyone has bad days. It's a small fact, one that borders on myth in a broken mind, but you repeat it as if nothing else could ever be true. Everyone has bad days, and some people have good days. Some people have enough of both that they blend together into a halfway decent life, void of some constant edge of panic. You are not one of those people.

When it rains it pours, the juxtaposition has never been lost on you and follows you like a dark cloud born from its literal verbiage, disheartening, suffocating. The heat of a storm brewing thick around you, promising only bad bad things.

The walls close in, floor cold and barren beneath your naked feet, the bathroom too small, and too large all at once. Moments ago you were sure you were cracking right in front of Steve. Now, behind the locked door, the tears are dissipating, calming like the ocean, deceptive and wild. Untameable. Like the emotions warring within, bloody and hardened by the years spent compressing it all down, refusing to let it show.

The bitter gnawing grows, teeth worn and dull, chewing painful, uneven holes through your nerves, craggy and prone to infection. A cursory glance around the tiny bathroom leaves nothing to relieve the itch. You're at work, you really couldn't help anything now anyway, but you'll look. You'll look and wish, taking note of every possible solution. You shake your head, failing to dislodge the thoughts, failing to do anything but rattle your aching head more than it already was.

You flush the toilet to make this absence believable, just in case anyone, namely Steve, is close enough to hear. Crank the lever on the paper towel dispenser loudly, once twice three times, tearing off the sheet and wadding it up. Guilt pricks your skin at the waste, at the act, at the lies.

The door opens with a loud squeal, hinges protesting your exit, a loud argument, alerting anyone nearby that you've reemerged. You walk down the main aisle, scanning the store for Steve. He's on his knees, putting the well-loved copy of Back to the Future on the shelf, scooting his bin of movies along the floor as he moves further down to replace the next VHS. He looks up as you hover at the end of the row, eyebrows raised in a silent question, head tilted back to meet your eyes.

"Everything okay?"

You open your mouth, close it, chew on your lip, enjoying the slight bite of pain, the way the flesh gives beneath the pressure of your teeth. If you bit just a little harder, blood would tease your tongue, copper flooding your senses. It's what you want. Why not give yourself satisfaction?

Steve waits, concern taking hold of his face with each passing second. He's rising to his feet and stepping closer to you before you know what's happening, hand extended, intent on grasping your own. It would at least, if you didn't jerk back, shocked; aghast.

"Baby?" He pulls his hand back, fingers limp, rejected, hazel eyes a bit more green in this light. "Y/N?"

"What?"

You can't remember what he asked, eyes stuck on his pocket knife, fixated, wishing it was in your hands. You've done so well today. Woke when your alarm went off, got dressed, made yourself presentable, smiled at every patron who came through the doors today. How delicious your reward would be, sweet little ribbons of pain, earned by your careful performance. You deserve it. Some wild spell falls over you, whispers in your ear to take his knife, use it right here, right now.

It's that voice that pushes you into his arms. There is no grace, no poise, no tenderness in the way you fall into him. It is all raw emotion, mixed-up thoughts, and tattered nerves, as you run from the darkness propagating in your blood.

"You're scaring me, baby. What is going on?"

"I am-" You can't finish, words thick and rough, dying on your vocal cords, soundless, a plea to be saved. Like a splinter in your throat, shards of emotion making it impossible to speak, fragments of thought stealing away your breath. "I am unwell, Steve. I'm sick."

"Okay, okay Y/N. What- uh, what hurts? Your head, your stomach?"

You crane your head back, hands firm on his cheeks, demanding as you move his head down so his eyes meet yours with little care. When he takes in your gaze, nearly lifeless, dead, and walking he feels his heart speed up. It's an unnatural pace, beating with the threat of something akin to cardiac arrest. The look in your eyes... He's seen it before. Empty, vacant. It's like you said, you're sick, he can see it now clearly, bleeding into the air around you.

"No Steve. My brain, it's- I want to hurt myself. Badly. Like I have, like I used to. It's just- Just too much right now. I can't-"

You suck in a breath, winded from that explanation. Tired, like your bones are liquifying, muscles atrophying at an unprecedented rate. You're withering away right before his eyes. And how could he not have noticed sooner? He thinks back as his arms tighten around you, recalling the smiles that he swears reached your eyes, the laughs that bubbled out of you at his shitty jokes, the friendly tone you took with the kids. Where were the signs?

"Okay, baby. It'll be okay. I-"

Steve doesn't know what to say. Who really helped him fight back the unending dark of depression? He still feels it on a bad day, but never like this, never like you. He wants you as close as possible, wishes he could crawl inside your mind and kill all the nasty thoughts, voices that whisper you deserve to hurt, whatever demon makes you crave pain. You're too fucking good for that.

"I'm sorry."

It's a broken whisper, drawing him fully back to the moment, aware of your tears seeping through his shirt, warm and rapid. "No. No, don't ever apologize. It's nothing I could ever hold against you. It's... We'll face it together."

He wants to hold you gently, tenderly, but his heart won't let him. His arms are tight around you, too tight, but maybe that's okay. Maybe sometimes the most tender thing a person can do is hold you so tight you might break under their grip.

It seems to work, it keeps you here; how could you run anyway? How could you run when your body is so wracked by sobs, so consumed by deep-seated grief? One you can't explain, you've never known where it came from. It works, Steve's embrace, it keeps you grounded, threatens to bruise in the best way, a hot sort of love seeping into your chilled flesh, thawing something you worried was dead.

"I don't want you to hurt. I- I get it, I do. But if you can, I would rather you tell me. Talk to me about what is hurting before you-"

"Try to cut it out?"

The words you offer so simply make his chest hurt, ache like there's no air in his lungs and he can't catch his breath. "Yes, before you do that. Please?"

He feels you squeeze him, trying to get closer, trying to explain it all. Words fail you. "I can't promise. But I- I'll try."

"That's all I want, Y/N. Just try. Let me in, let me help if I can. You don't have to do this alone."

Neither one of you is sure who initiates it, but you're both moving to the floor, Steve kneeling, you scrambling messily into his lap, face pressed into his neck, tears slowing but not stopping, right in the middle of Family Video. No one else is here, the day oddly slow, as if time has stopped for this moment.

Steve doesn't want to let you go. It's a hard sort of love, rough, ragged, nearly ugly in its rawness. But this moment of weakness, this vulnerability, this battle shared between partners is the most tender image he could ever conjure. He wouldn't change it for the world. And he'll be here with you no matter what.

#steve harrington/reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst

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