#Rise Exclusive Content | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zyafics · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, zya! I love your writing and I love 'whatever she wants' the most! I was wondering if you could do a jealousy bitchy!kook!reader and rafe? if not, it's okay!!

i should be studying.

HER WAY | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing — Rafe x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, smut, power/dominance play, jealousy, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, and Reader being a spoiled princess.

Word Count — 2.4K

lıllılı Her Way by PARTYNEXTDOOR

Rafe Cameron thinks he’s funny.

He thinks it’s a joke. Some sick foreplay where he can get you to submit.

Across the room, during a house party, Rafe allows another woman to touch him. She isn’t being discrete; her nails graze the length of his bicep, head tilts with a sultry smile, and she’s giggling at everything he says—when you know for a fact, he isn’t that fucking funny. While you’re sipping on a fruity drink with your girlfriends, your boyfriend entertains a random skank from who knows where.

Rafe leans against the wall, holding a beer bottle with his hand, and while his body language doesn’t exude invitation, Skank takes it as one. Stepping closer, chest nearly touching his, her hand travels to the open top button of his Ralph Lauren shirt, meeting skin.

Before you can stop yourself, you cross the room, grab a handful of her hair, and yank it back. She winces in pain, hands cradling her scalp, as you toss her to the side. She stumbles backward, hitting the couch's armrest, before meeting your vicious glare and scurrying away.

Rafe’s mouth curls with amusement.

You huff. “You think you’re cute?”

“I’ve been told to be pretty,”

Ever since that party, where Rafe claimed you as his, you’ve enjoyed the exclusiveness of being a pampered princess in his arms. But you forgot about the reputation he boasts. The roster he owns. Rafe thinks you’ll easily concede because he has a long list of women who’d flock to him?

Think again.

“Fuck you, Rafe,” you sneer, “We’re not fucking tonight.”

You don’t wait for a response before turning away, discovering Topper sitting on a nearby couch, witnessing the entire conversation.

“Top, take me home,” you command with a flick of your manicured finger, taking a step towards the door.

Following orders, Topper stands while Rafe glares at his best friend. “Top, don’t,” he commands lowly, causing you to halt your steps and glance over your shoulder at the stagnant dog. Topper sits back down.

“Top, let’s go.” You order, a sharpness coating your tongue that scares the young blond. Once again, he rises to his feet.

“Topper, sit,” Rafe snaps, the roughness of his tone edges with darkness. Topper, unsure of what to do, settles midair, not completely reclaiming his seat.

You let out a frustrated groan. Rafe pushes himself off the wall and steps closer. “I’ll take you home.”

“Go entertain your skank,” you snap, glancing back to Topper. “Are you coming or not?”

He doesn’t move. From the look on his face, he’s more afraid of Rafe, and that agitates you further. A man who’s pathetically bounded to the whims of his best friend’s calling. This is why you could never be with someone like Topper.

You aren’t sure you want to be with someone like Rafe either.

“Fine,” you toss your hands in the air, “I’ll order an Uber.”

With quick strides to an exit and a half-hearted farewell to your girlfriends, you leave the party. Nighttime during the summer contrasts with the day's humid heat, and meets your skin with a shivering cold. You wrap your jacket closer around your arms, pulling out your phone and swiping through the screen.

Music fades in the background with each furthering step, and an accompanying noise of rapid footsteps follows after you.

“Come on, doll,” Rafe coaxes, his voice inching closer. He’s taller, his stride faster, so that it easily matches yours in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t start with me,” you say, still loading up the app, the blinking circle loads as your patience wears thin.

“I’ll take you home.”

“You’ve lost that privilege.”

“Top can’t take you home,” Rafe declares with a bite of annoyance, trailing you as you make your way down the driveway, meeting the asphalt road.

You toss a look over your shoulder, “Why not? You’re flirting with him, too?”

Rafe huffs. “Because it’ll be a fucking riot if my friend takes my girlfriend home.”

“Ex-girlfriend,”

“Don’t say that.” Rafe captures your wrist, stalling your pursuit. He steps in front of you, chin tipped downwards, his cerulean eyes meet yours, and a sincere look passes through his expression. “You’re my girl.”

You snatch back your arm as if his touch burns.

“You want to know something, Rafe?” You demand, clicking your phone off, “You think I’m like your past girlfriends. That I’m willing to tolerate things like this because,” your voice twists into mockery, “Rafe Cameron’s giving me attention,” you scoff. “You would be so lucky to have me.”

Resuming your walk, you finally catch a signal and order an Uber. But it blinks again, waiting, filtering, passing through another stream of misconnection that leaves you steaming at the side of your road because you refuse to walk home in your expensive Louis Vuitton heels.

A familiar car slides into your view a few moments later and rolls down the passenger window.

“Get in,” Rafe commands.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

“So fucking stubborn,” he mutters under his breath as he exits the car and rounds the bonnet. Eyes widening, you twist to run, but Rafe snatches your waist, tosses you over his shoulders, and shoves you inside the car.

He clicks the safety belt and returns to his side. With a flick of his wrist, he shifts into drive and heads down the road.

You begrudgingly accept your fate in the passenger seat. Awful rap music plays from his stereo, contrasting the agitated mood you’re in, to the point you turn off the radio and throw the disk into the backseat.

Rafe chuckles.

The drive to your house is silent, forcing you to mellow in your anger. Rafe tried to talk, but you refuse to look at him, refuse to give him a spec of validation. When he parks, it isn’t a full stop before you rip off the seatbelt, head to the door, key already in hand.

You slam the door on his face, and it works—for three seconds—before he produces his own copy and enters. Another wild chase ensues where you quickly ascend up the spiral staircase, slide into your bedroom, and lock your door behind with a loud bang.

Good luck getting in now, asshole.

After you remove your jewelry, strip down, and replace your clothes with a silk pajama set, Rafe knocks on your door.

“Baby,” he says softly on the other side of the hardwood, “Let me in.”

“Go home,” you shout, but you don’t want him to. You want him to fight, to beg for your forgiveness, to hang around like a lost puppy. If he does leave, you’re sure it’ll leave you more infuriated. “I don’t want to see your face.”

Rafe doesn’t answer, and your heart twists. Until he knocks again, knuckles rapping against the hardwood in soft, dejected clicks. “I was wrong.”

Exhaling sharply, you walk across the floor and unlock the door, but stand in the entryway, not yet granting him access.

It shouldn’t be possible, but Rafe looks deviously handsome, even after the whole cat-and-mouse game, and it makes you furious that he can never seem to be disheveled by your acts. Quite possibly, Rafe Cameron is the only man on earth who can handle your attitude.

You cross your arms. “I’m listening,”

“For what?”

You huff, “Are you not going to apologize?”

“For your jealousy?”

You shove the door closed, but Rafe plants a firm palm out.

“Let me make up to you.”

“Why? We’re not together.”

He groans, “Stop saying that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” You snap, “A good boyfriend doesn’t entertain shanks while their girlfriend is across the room. A good boyfriend apologizes when they’re wrong.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“A good girlfriend doesn’t sit around with her girlfriends while her boyfriend wants her around. A good girlfriend doesn’t act like a brat in front of his friends.”

You scoff, “Then it’s settle, then.”

“Sure is.”

“Get out.”

“No,”

You attempt to close the door again, but he shoves inside, shouldering the door until he passes the threshold. Your eyes widen as you step backward, but Rafe grabs your face in his large hands, the callouses of his palms contrast with the softness of your skin, and you sigh fondly.

Your gaze connects with his, and while his breath reeks with peppermint and cheap beer, his eyes are sincere. “Let me make it up to you,” he whispers.

Heart thumping in your chest, “You want to make it up to me?”

“Yes.”

“Beg for forgiveness.”

He reels back, releasing your face, causing you to desperately miss his touch. “Fuck, no.”

“Fine,” you say, stepping back, unblocking your top button-by-button, each revealing another silver of skin. Soft silk slips from your shoulders, and you reveal the lacy red bralette that’s his favorite. “You see this?”

Rafe nods, his eyes following your hands as you trace the hems of your shorts, pushing them down enough to show him the matching red panties. “Yes.”

You snap the band back in place, “You’ll never touch me again.”

You don’t know how it happens. One second, you’re turning away from him, and in the next, Rafe tosses you onto the mattress, laying you flat against the sheets.

His large, warm palms planted on either side of your thighs, Rafe settles on his knees at the edge of the bed—the position you wanted him in—with his hands sliding up the bands of your shorts, tugging them down slowly, needfully.

“Let me eat you out.”

“Only good boys get to do that.”

"Let me be a good boy,” he all but begs. Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk. You hide your expression as you gently lift your hips, allowing Rafe to pull down your shorts and panties in one quick swoop. A shiver passes down your spine at the way his eyes stares at your exposed pussy, the whip of the low-blowing AC fanning against your heating skin.

His thumb travels between your legs, rubbing broad circles for the inside of your thighs, and your pussy flutters with need. Rafe lowers himself, spreading you further apart, as his hot breath fans against your cunt, and his thumb finally grazes your wet folds.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, more to himself than you.

Breathlessly, you ask, “Are you going to do something about it?”

His gaze lifts, pupils dilated to pitch-black, before he lowers his head and covers his mouth on your clit.

He sucks, tastes, and plays—but the thing about Rafe Cameron eating pussy is he’s nasty; his tongue strokes your swollen nub, his fingers teasing your holes, and he sucks so sloppily, your slick forms a pool on your sheets.

He slurps up your arousal like a thirsty man returning from the desert, squelching noises echoing from your walls, while your legs clenched around his head. He does it so well, it seems like it’s purely for his own enjoyment.

Writhing and grabbing the sheets, our head tips into the silk pillow, as Rafe tightens his arms around your hips, keeping you in place. Moans and whimpers slipping out your mouth in pure desperation, you can feel the faint smile of Rafe’s grin against your cunt as you chase your high.

At the peak of your carnal desire, Rafe pulls away.

“Say you forgive me,” he declares, his tongue kissing your slick slit with kitten licks. Breathless, you’re unable to comprehend his words.

“What?”

‘Say you forgive me, doll,” he declares, his thick digits teasing your entrance in a way that has you lifting your hips, begging for more friction. But he carefully anchors you with his arms, biceps wrapped around your thighs. “And you can come.”

“No,”

“No?” He asks mockingly, his mouth meeting your swollen clit again, sucking for a faint second before withdrawing his hot mouth. You squirm under his touch. “I can’t hear you.”

“N–no,” you stammer, but Rafe is rubbing tight circles against your clit again, knowing the right pressure to add that has you at the palm of his hand, but not inching closer to release. “Rafe.”

“Maybe you don’t want to come that badly,” Rafe taunts, pulling again. Your body clenches at the denied orgasm. “Maybe you need another lesson.”

“No,” you wrap your legs around Rafe’s shoulders, trapping him, and your fingers thread through his tousled hair, pushing him back against your needy cunt. Resolve cracks. “I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.”

You don’t see it, but you feel him grinning, and his mouth latches back on your clit, fastening to towards a much-needed orgasm in lightning speed. Your high reached, you never came so hard before, so quickly, and you’re messy, dirty, and heaving as Rafe withdraws from between your legs.

Rafe meets your gaze as you pant, “Want to return the favor?”

Chest rising and falling, you nod and pull your weak legs to stand. You force him to stand too, and your fingers trace the bands of his jeans as you step forward. He steps back. It’s a dance, like you’re about to screw him against the wall, until he crosses the threshold of your room and you slam the door on his face, locking it.

The doorknob rattles.

He calls your name, but you lean back against the doorframe, needing it to steady you upright with heaving breaths. “What the fuck?” Rafe demands.

“Sleep on the couch tonight,” you say with a hint of a smile.

“You said you forgive me,”

“It’s dirty talk,”

He shouts your name again, but you don’t concede. Rafe has two options: listen to your orders, or leave.

By next morning, you had the best sleep. Unlocking your door, Rafe is nowhere to be seen. Disappointment clouds your chest at the thought that he left after all, but when you descend the staircase, you find your favorite flowers covering every inch of your foyer to your living room, with your favorite breakfast plate made on the marble island, and a jewelry box sitting beside it.

Smiling, you settle on the bar stool, as Rafe exits from the guest bathroom, approaches you, and kisses your cheek.

“What’s this?” You ask, tilting your head.

“An apology,” he declares.

“Know what you did wrong?”

He nods.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he murmurs, “Won’t happen again.”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

2K notes · View notes

denizenhardwick · 2 years ago

Text

it's october and i have so many social links left to do, getting a bit stressed...

#i'm gonna really have to crack down and prioritize!#i need to finish adachi and marie because they seem to be the golden-exclusive links and may unlock new content #and i want to finish rise and naoki because those are the stories i'm most interested in #ideally i'll finish everyone on my party but i'm not far with kanji and haven't gotten to even start naoto #4gplb

0 notes

ghostlyferrettarot · 3 months ago

Text

⋆.˚✮🔑✮˚.⋆ How do others see us according to our Rising sign? ⋆.˚✮🔑✮˚.⋆

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

.*+’⭐️If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!˖°.*+’⭐️

₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ.Masterlist₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ.Masterlist 2₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚🔑 ﾟ.

⋆.˚✮♈Aries risings: Your presence is intense, full of courage and an unwavering drive to act. You project a challenging and advanced vibe, as if you are ready to take on the world head on. Some people may see you as impulsive, but your determination is what defines you the most. They see you as firm, determined, and with a leader energy that sets the tone.

⋆.˚✮♉Taurus risings:: With Taurus Ascendant, your vibe is one of calm and security. Your practical approach and connection to material things make others see you as someone who is firmly grounded. You project a vibe of reliability. People see you as someone who has a quiet strength, and they seek your company when they need comfort or stability. People see you as someone they can build and grow with.

⋆.˚✮♊Gemini risings: Gemini rising people are perceived as interesting, fun, and with an energy of variety. You give off a vibe of someone who is always on the go and looking for new experiences. You have a way of connecting with people quickly, and your curiosity leads you to constantly learn new things. You give off a vibe of a natural communicator. You are often seen as the person who breaks the ice in any situation.

⋆.˚✮♋Cancer risings: Cancer rising people have an energy that reflects compassion and protection. You give off a caring vibe, as if you can offer an emotional refuge to others. Your connection to your feelings is deep, and that makes people see you as sensitive and attentive. People perceive you as someone who is very emotional and highly sensitive.

⋆.˚✮♌Leo risings: Leo Ascendants are known for their charisma and their ability to effortlessly attract attention. Your vibe is that of a natural leader who isn't afraid to shine. You project an energy of pride, confidence, and greatness. People see you as someone who takes control and inspires respect and admiration. You give off a royal vibe. Full of optimism, and with a natural ability to lead or be the center of attention.

⋆.˚✮♍Virgo risings: You project a vibe of order and efficiency, as if everything in your life has a reason for being. You are perceived as someone who focuses on details and has a clear vision about what is needed to achieve success. People tend to see you as someone who has everything under control and with a problem-solving approach.

⋆.˚✮♎Libra risings:: Libra ascendants are perceived as charming people, with an energy that seeks harmony and balance. You emanate a vibe of diplomacy and empathy, always looking for the best in others. Your ability to connect with people and keep the peace makes you very well-liked. People perceive you as someone who is easy to get along with, always willing to listen and understand others.

⋆.˚✮♏Scorpio risings: Scorpio rising people project an intense and mysterious energy. They may sometimes see you as reserved, but that only increases the fascination others feel for you. Scorpios tend to be intense, with a marked face and piercing eyes that seem to read the emotions of others. You project a vibe of mystery and authority. People sense there is something deep about you.

⋆.˚✮♐Sagittarius risings: Sagittarius Ascendants are perceived as optimistic, sociable, and with an expansive energy. Your vibe is that of an explorer who is always looking for something new.You project a vibe of adventure and freedom. People see you as someone with an independent spirit and who always brings a positive outlook to any situation.

⋆.˚✮♑Capricorn risings: Capricorn Ascendants project a serious and determined energy. You exude a vibe of responsibility and ambition, as if you are always focused on your goals and building something lasting. People see you as practical and reliable, but they may also perceive you as somewhat reserved. Others see you as someone who is down to earth and determined to achieve success.

⋆.˚✮♒Aquarius risings: Aquarius ascendants have a very original and unconventional energy. People see you as someone who is constantly looking to change the rules. You emanate a sense of being someone with a unique vision of the world. You project a vibe of freedom and authenticity. People see you as someone who thinks differently and acts according to their own rules.

⋆.˚✮♓Pices risings: With Pisces Ascendant, others perceive you as a sweet, loving, and very sensitive person. Often, people see you as someone who has a deep connection with emotions and can understand the needs of others without words. Your energy is that of someone who has a dreamy nature and great intuition. You are seen as someone who is very empathetic and has an incredible ability to emotionally connect with others.

776 notes · View notes

noirscript · 1 month ago

Text

Inked Possession | part one

pairing: yandere artist x erotic book writer!reader description: Eleazar wasn’t meant to find your draft—but now that he has, he’ll make sure you never imagine another man again, not even on the page. warning/s: Yandere behavior, possessiveness, dubcon undertones, explicit sexual content, bondage (restraints), jealousy, emotional manipulation, rough sex, obsession, degradation, implied coercion. note: this is gonna sound really funny but i've been writing this series while working in a space that's VERY sfw. i don't think i'll do it again hahahahahahahaha it's too risky. by the way the pre-order for Callixto's ebook will end next week (Monday) so make sure to reserve a copy of the ebook PLUS the exclusive freebies that comes with it! The freebies will only be available during the pre-order period. ← Masterlist | Next →

Masterlist | Dark Roast | Sovereign's Reign Pre-Order | Commission | Tip Jar

You didn’t expect him to find the draft.

The document was nestled deep in a folder you were sure you’d renamed months ago. It wasn’t even meant to see the light of day—not yet. Just a concept. A fleeting thought that bled too easily into your fingertips after too many sleepless nights. You didn’t even give the male lead a name—just him, faceless and safe in your mind. Or so you thought.

You come home to the smell of turpentine and oil paints. It clings to the air like sweat and fury. The lights are off, save for the faint glow of his studio down the hall.

Your pulse stutters. There’s a silence in the apartment that shouldn’t be there. No hum of music. No clinking of his brush jars. Just the tick of the grandfather clock in the corner and your own breath, catching in your throat.

“Lee?” you call softly.

There’s no answer, but you feel it—his presence. Like a panther in the dark, crouched and ready.

You slip out of your heels and step onto the cool hardwood floors. The hairs on the back of your neck rise. Something isn’t right.

The studio door is ajar.

Inside, Lee sits with one leg over the other, your laptop balanced on his thigh. The screen glows white against his pale skin, casting stark shadows on his angular face. His dark hair is a mess—longer than usual, curling behind his ears in disarray. He’s still in his paint-streaked black shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, veins visible as his hand clenches the edge of the desk.

You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat when you see what’s open on the screen.

Your draft.

Your smutty, half-polished, dirty draft.

The one with another man pressing your fictional self against the wall, whispering sweet nothings into her ear before dragging his mouth down her neck.

“You’ve been busy,” Lee says, voice cold and syrupy, like poisoned honey. His obsidian eyes flick up to you, and for a moment, all you see is calm. Too calm. “Tell me, darling… who is he?”

“I—he’s not real,” you stammer, stepping back. “It’s fiction. It’s just for the plot—”

“Plot,” he interrupts with a sneer, rising to his full height. “Yes, of course. Because stories require you to imagine some stranger touching you in ways you’ve never asked me to. Some man who isn’t your husband fucking you so hard you’re crying for more, isn’t that right?”

Your face flushes with humiliation. You look away, but his steps are slow and purposeful, his boots echoing against the wood. A predator circling. You try to retreat, but he grabs your wrist—gentle at first. Just enough to hold.

“Lee, it’s not what you think—”

His grip tightens. “Then tell me what it is. Because to me, it reads like a fucking fantasy. Not the kind you write for others. No. This was personal. Intimate. Not even the male lead in your books ever got this much attention.”

“I didn’t mean—”

He yanks you forward, and your body slams against his chest. You feel the thrum of his pulse, erratic, thunderous. His other hand slides up your back, gripping the nape of your neck.

“Let me be perfectly clear, my sweet wife,” he hisses into your ear. “I will not allow you to imagine yourself with anyone else. Not in ink, not in dreams, not in your goddamn drafts.”

You whimper as he bites down on your earlobe—not enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise.

“Writing smut about another man… does that excite you?” he growls. “Does it make your fingers itch to feel someone else's hands on your skin?”

“No—”

“Liar.”

In one swift motion, he drags you toward the bedroom. The door slams behind you, and you’re thrown onto the bed. The force isn’t violent—yet—but it's enough to shake the mattress, enough to scatter the pillows like prey.

“Take it off,” Lee orders.

You blink, wide-eyed. “What?”

“Your clothes. Strip. Now.”

You hesitate, but the look he gives you—possessive, deranged, feral—makes you obey. You pull off your blouse with trembling fingers, then unfasten your skirt. Every inch of skin you expose feels like a confession. You’re down to your underwear when he growls, “All of it.”

You do.

He watches you like an artist studies his canvas. His gaze is obsessive. Not just hungry, but starving. The moment the last scrap of fabric hits the floor, he pounces.

He pushes you down, wrists pinned to the sheets with one hand while the other cups your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Let me remind you,” Lee whispers, kissing the underside of your jaw. “Exactly who you belong to.”

His mouth trails down your throat, harsh and claiming, teeth scraping as he bruises your skin—painting marks only he is allowed to leave.

You arch beneath him, breath catching when he hooks your thighs open with a knee, then binds your wrists together with the silk belt from your robe. He pulls it tight—too tight—but doesn’t stop. Your fingers twitch in protest, but his voice soothes, “If you can write about being tied, you can take it.”

You gasp as he spreads you apart with calloused hands, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs. His tongue slides across your skin, tracing every inch, slow and deliberate. You expect softness—he gives you fire.

“This mouth,” he snarls, biting the inside of your thigh, “will never say another man’s name again.”

Your breath stutters. “I never said—”

He cuts you off by sucking hard on your clit, dragging a broken moan out of you. Your hips jerk, but he holds you down. Devours you.

When he rises, his mouth is slick, chin glistening. “No more stories about faceless strangers,” he growls, unbuckling his belt. “You want to write filth? Fine. Let it be about me.”

You don’t even have time to respond.

He thrusts into you in one brutal stroke, knocking the air from your lungs.

The stretch burns, and you cry out. But he doesn’t pause. His hands grip your bound wrists, pressing them above your head as he drives into you, fast, hard, claiming.

“I’ve let you wander too long in that pretty little head of yours,” Lee snarls. “From now on, you write what I give you. You think about me when your fingers type. Only me.”

“Lee—ah—”

“You asked for this, didn’t you?” he pants against your neck. “Your filthy little book was practically begging for punishment.”

Tears slip from your eyes from the overstimulation, the tight grip of his hand around your wrists, the merciless rhythm. But your body betrays you—slick, needy, clenching around him.

He feels it.

“God, look at you,” he groans. “So fucking wet. You love being corrected.”

You hate that he's right. That your mind is hazy, spinning with every possessive word he spits.

He pulls out without warning, and you whine.

“No,” he murmurs, flipping you over like you're weightless. He yanks your hips up, presses your face into the sheets. “You're not done yet.”

You scream into the pillow as he thrusts back in, rougher, deeper. His hands leave bruises on your hips, fingers digging as if he could mold you into obedience.

“I’ll paint you in bruises if I have to,” he growls. “So no one forgets who owns you.”

You don’t recognize your own voice when you beg—broken and raw. “Please…”

“Please what?” he snarls, leaning over your back. “Please stop? Please more? Or please fuck the other man in your book?”

“N-no—I want you,” you cry.

“Say it again.”

“I want you!”

“Louder.”

“I want you, Lee!”

He growls like a beast. And in that moment, you don’t know where the man ends and the monster begins—but you welcome both.

He finishes inside you with a groan so guttural it shakes your bones. You collapse, trembling, sweat pooling beneath you.

Silence.

Then he pulls you into his arms, still fully sheathed inside you, cradling your trembling form. His touch is gentle now. Worshipping.

“I’m the only man who will ever touch you like this,” he whispers into your hair. “Write it. Carve it into your pages. Ink it on your skin. You’re mine, Mrs. Vittorio.”

You’re too wrecked to argue. Or deny the possessive warmth spreading through your limbs. Or the terrifying comfort of his embrace.

The next morning, he kisses your bruises with reverence… and sets up a new document for your next book.

The title?

“Eleazar”

Just that.

And you don’t dare write about anyone else again.

TBC.

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger @delusionalricebowl @nomi-candies @jsprien213 @kaii-nana33 @saturnalya @yandereaficionado @pinksaiyans @ivantillenthusiast @missybabes

← Masterlist | Next →

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere fic #yandere x y/n #yandere male x reader #yandere artist #yandere artist x reader #yandere smut #yandere artist x darling #yandere x you #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #tw.smut #tw.noncon #tw.dubcon

556 notes · View notes

thealchemistbae · 4 months ago

Text

Your Online Vibe | Asteroid Webb (3041) Persona Chart Observations 🌐

Disclaimer: This post is for entertainment purposes only.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

Honestly, I'm dropping a lot of GEMS with this one because I kind of DON'T want to make any more parts. So ALOT of information but it will be WORTH it. Also, My Patreon is ALMOST ready for more exclusive astrology content & gems.

Webb Persona Chart Houses Explained (HOW TO READ):

1H -> This house shows how you present yourself online. It's the first impression people get of you. Think of it as the vibe of your profile pic, bio, and overall style. Your look, your personality, how you express yourself to the world.

2H -> Your online presence can be tied to material things, like what you showcase or sell online. It's also about how you value yourself in the digital space, your self-worth and how you monetize your brand.

3H -> This is all about communication and how you share your thoughts. Expect lots of tweets, posts, messages, or any form of verbal expression. Your presence is marked by your engagement and ability to communicate and ability to communicate clearly with your followers.

4H -> Your family, background, and home life can be reflected online. People might connect with you through your personal stories, family photos, or things that are dear to you. It shows how you connect with your roots and what makes you feel grounded.

5H -> The creative energy you share online whether it's art, fashion, music, or your romantic life. This house shows if you're the type to post creative projects, love stories, or just having fun with your followers. Influencer vibes all day.

6H -> Your work ethic, how you grind, and your daily routine online. People see how you hustle, the content you create regularly, and your behind-the-scenes life. It could also show if your social media is connected to your job or health habits.

7H -> This house is all about relationships, whether it's collaborations with brands, partners, or even business alliances. If you have WEBB here, expect joint ventures or a major focus on teamwork and public relationships.

8H -> You may show more intimate or transformational parts of your life online. This house can indicate you share deep secrets, money with partners, or transformative experiences. Your followers may feel a personal connection to your growth journey.

9H -> This is where your ideas, travel, adventures can be shared with the world. You're more likely to post about your spirituality, big ideas, or global travel experiences. Your content might include inspiration, growth, and exploration.

10H -> If you want to see fame, reputation, and career success, this house shows how you project yourself to the public. This is where you see professional growth and social media stardom. Instagram CEOS, TikTok Influencers, and anyone who makes their career on social media.

11H -> Your followers and community. This house shows how you connect with a larger network and how you grow through collaborations and support. If you have WEBB here, expect a lot of group-based content, collective energy, or group projects.

12H -> You may have a mysterious online presence, revealing things behind the scenes or deeper thoughts. There's a spiritual or subconscious energy to your content. People may not know the full you, but you'll create an air of mystique or share things that are intimate but not obvious.

Rising Sign = Your profile pic energy. First impression, Your aesthetic.

Sun = The core vibe of your online persona. Who you are when the timeline's watching.

Moon = The emotional vibe you give off online. People's parasocial bond with you.

MC = Your digital legacy. What people know you for. Your viral moments.

Venus = How you give pretty girl energy or aesthetic content. The visual slay.

Mars = How you clap back, thirst trap, or hustle online.

Mercury = Your caption style, tweets, & content voice.

Jupiter = Your online blessings. The followers, the clout, the reach.

Saturn = What you got to stay consistent with to pop off.

Uranus = Your weirdo/innovator era. Going viral for being different.

Neptune = The filter. The illusion. Your curated fantasy.

Pluto = The online chokehold you have on people. Or the drama you stir.

North Node = What you're destined to become known for online.

Fama = Sprinkles on top - your fame potential in the digital world.

WEBB Asteroid = The internet alter ego; your virtual twin.

Now, let's get into the WEBB Asteroid in the Signs in this chart:

🌐WEBB in Aries -> They're the trendsetter, always first to post, always the first to clap back. Self-promotion game strong. Watch them go viral.

🌐WEBB in Taurus -> Clean, soft luxe aesthetic. Might not post daily but when you do, it's giving Pinterest baddie meets rich auntie. Slow and steady glow up. Consistency over clout.

🌐WEBB in Gemini -> Content machine. This person's always online, always posting 24/7 with no chill. Expect a lot of memes, stories, and opinions. Engagement level: HIGH.

🌐WEBB in Cancer -> Emo but iconic, People feel close to you. Online diary energy. You give safe space, vulnerable tea, and soft girl/boy magic. Followers feel like fam.

🌐WEBB in Leo -> This person needs that spotlight. Expect them to thrive on attention, likes, and comments. They're always serving face.

🌐WEBB in Virgo -> Organized content with a strong focus on education or helpful tips. Expect to see a ton of "how-to" posts, in depth captions, and a lot of clean aesthetic. They know how to get that engagement through expertise.

🌐WEBB in Libra -> They're all about aesthetics; your go-to person for creating that perfect feed or viral group photos. Relationships and collaborations are their thing. They blow up with charm.

🌐WEBB in Scorpio -> They're mysterious AF online. Posting deep, mysterious content with the occasional cryptic captions. Influence through intensity, not quantity. Lowkey obsessed with engagement.

🌐WEBB in Sagittarius -> Travel content, big ideas, and straight up good vibes. They'll post the next best vacay or spiritual journey. Followers get those "inspo vibes".

🌐WEBB in Capricorn -> Strategic content, calculated posts. They're building an empire, not just looking for likes. Professional, steady growth is their online vibe.

🌐WEBB in Aquarius -> They're the innovators. Think tech, activism, and progressive vibes. They'll have the coolest online presence; always pushing boundaries and getting ahead of trends.

🌐WEBB in Pisces -> Soft, dreamy, aesthetic queen. People project fantasies onto you. Might give fairy, muse, spiritual goddess online. You post like you live in a Tumblr collage.

Next, let's look at WEBB in Houses in this chart:

1H -> Your online persona is literally YOU. How do you present yourself to the world on the gram? Are you serving face or aesthetic vibes?

2H -> You make social media look expensive. You attract $$ just from being online. Monetizable energy. "Pay me to post" realness.

3H -> You're online for the conversation. Expect lots of thought-provoking posts, debates, and a lot of engagement through chatting.

4H -> People feel close to you. Cozy, real, nostalgic online presence. You could post a blurry pic, and it'd still go viral off vibes alone.

5H -> Your online presence screams fun, drama, and creativity. Influencer vibes who love attention and being the life of the party. Think viral TikToks.

6H -> You treat content like your 9-5. You're that consistent queen who shows up, shows out, and makes posting a ritual. You're building a digital empire.

7H -> Your online energy comes from collaborations. You shine when you work with others or do things with groups. Expect group photos or collab content.

8H -> Mystique. Intensity. Online slay that either seduces, transforms, or intimidates. You don't post often but when you do; minds are blown. Could be spiritual, sexy, or rich af.

9H -> You'll have a global following, and your posts will be expansive. Think travel, philosophy, and culture. Think of that one influencer who's always somewhere new.

10H -> Fame energy. This placement is about making it big online. Your work and presence is meant to be seen publicly. You're probably on the path to becoming a social media sensation.

11H -> You get famous through your followers, tribe or networking. Expect a following that feels like a community. Social media success is in the people you connect with.

12H -> Your online presence may be mysterious or even spiritual. You might prefer to keep a low profile or only share bits of your life, but when you do, it hits deep.

Some Random Placements:

Webb conjunct Sun: you shine online and are known for your personality. People flock to you because you radiate and your content is all about being seen. The more you own your authenticity, the more you rise to fame.

Webb conjunct Moon: You create an emotional connection with your audience. Your followers feel close to you, like they know your deepest thoughts. Expect to share things that feel real, personal, or vulnerable and it’s what makes you relatable.

Webb sextile Mercury: Your communication is on point. Your words and content are engaging, funny, and straight to the heart of what people want to hear. You're a natural at getting your message out and having people connect to it. Viral content is your lane.

Webb square Venus: You might struggle with finding a balance between being loved and showing your worth online. You may need to work through self-esteem issues in public spaces or feel torn between showing the real you and what’s expected. When you do, it’s powerful.

Webb trine Mars: You are a go-getter. Your energy is contagious. You put out content like there’s no tomorrow. You’re quick with updates, passionate in your posts, and probably have an active online following that feeds off your enthusiasm.

Webb trine Jupiter: You have the luck and expansion factor in your favor. You’ve got an audience that grows exponentially because of your optimism, generosity, and big personality. People are drawn to your inspiration, and everything you put out has the potential to blow up.

Webb opposite Saturn: There’s some serious tension between how you want to be seen online and how others might perceive you. You might find that your fame comes with responsibility, or you're tested through delays or obstacles that slow you down. When you push through, it’s even more rewarding.

Webb trine Uranus: You’re a trendsetter. Your online persona is fresh, innovative, and always ahead of the curve. Expect to disrupt the digital space with new, unconventional content. You’re the person others are looking to for inspiration and shock value.

Webb square Neptune: You may face confusion or misrepresentation online. People might not always understand you or you could come off as mysterious. Expectations might not always match the reality of your content, but if you channel your creativity, it can work out.

Webb sextile Pluto: Your online presence has a magnetic quality. When you put content out, it has the power to transform your audience. You’re all about tapping into the depths and the power of your followers, making them feel something deep.

Webb opposite Chiron: Online, you may have moments where you feel vulnerable or triggered. People could see your healing process unfold in real-time. But these moments are what make you real and authentic, and you may connect with others who have similar wounds.

Webb square MC: You might face challenges or conflicts between your public persona and your goals. There could be a lot of trial and error in finding what works for your career and fame online, but once you break through it'll be worth the struggle.

I KNOW you want some MORE.. Lucky I love you but only a FEW (I'm tired GOT DAMMIT):

Sun conjunct Mercury: You have a sharp mind and a clear voice that people listen to. The way you communicate is aligned with your identity and when you talk online or share content, it feels authentic and to the point. This placement gives you the ability to express yourself efficiently and beautifully, and you can gain a following just from your opinions, thoughts, or even your sense of humor. Expect to be engaging and dynamic in your online presence.

North Node in Aries: You’re here to be bold, independent, and assertive online. Step up and take charge of your own content without waiting for approval from others.

Moon square Mars: There’s a conflict between your emotions and drive. You may feel emotionally fired up and react quickly to situations, especially online. This aspect can make you come off as intense, with bold opinions or responses. While it can ignite passion, it can also lead to moments of outbursts or online drama. Managing your emotions effectively is key.

NN in Gemini: You’re here to grow by being curious, social, and dynamic. Your online presence thrives when you engage in conversation and spread knowledge in varied ways.

Venus conjunct Pluto: You attract people with your intense, magnetic energy. There’s a depth to your aesthetic or how you express love or beauty online. You might find that your followers are drawn to you on a deep emotional level, making them feel transformed by your content. This aspect can make you irresistible and can help you build a strong online following based on personal connection.

NN in Leo 10th House: Your online mission is to shine brightly in the public eye. You’re meant to build a brand that’s not just successful but also fun, authentic, and centered around creativity. Embrace being a leader and a trendsetter. You’re supposed to put your true self in the spotlight, so the world can see your light. Don’t shy away from showing your authenticity, even if it feels scary at first.

Mars sextile Jupiter: You’re an action taker with good fortune on your side. When you put in the work, luck follows. Whether it’s posting at the right time or finding the perfect brand collaboration, this aspect brings growth and expansion to your online efforts. People are naturally drawn to your dynamic energy, and opportunities will often come your way without much struggle.

The rest of the observations will be uploaded on my PATREON. Such as degrees, the importance of the NORTH NODE and observations of that as well. And also, a breakdown of each planet in each house. Love you guys. You can either subscribe monthly or pay per post at a small fee.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

If you enjoyed this post, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via Venmo @goddessguapa. Thank you.

#astrology #astro observations #astro community #thealchemistbae #birth chart #horoscope #astrology for beginners #natal chart #astro notes #webb asteroid #webb persona chart #fame astrology

546 notes · View notes

kathaynesart · 9 months ago

Text

REPLICA'S PATREON IS FINALLY HERE!

You’ve asked for it and now that I am back I can finally put some wonderful treats up on my brand new Patreon including a sneak peek to the next Replica update, some sketches, and Part 1 of a short story focused on Replica Donnie:

"The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Data"

It centers around Donnie's journey towards becoming the powerhouse we know in Replica as well as the drastic steps he takes in the early months of the Krang invasion to achieve his lofty goals.

NOTE: I highly recommend signing up on a browser or desktop (not on an iPhone) due to extra fees that were recently applied.

2ND NOTE: while some things such as the Replica page WIP will eventually make their way onto my Tumblr, the sketches and these short stories will stay exclusive to Patreon for the time being. This is because most of the content on my Patreon will be focusing on sensitive themes of war, a deeper look into the characters, and maybe even a bit of romance. All things I doubt would have been touched on in the Rise canon. So think of it as just extra fluff for readers who want more secret lore from this universe. If any of these themes DO interest you then please consider checking it out HERE! (I might bring it onto Kofi, in the future if people have trouble accessing it.)

#also you'll finally get to learn what happened in Shanghai #but later... that's a story for another day #also a reblog of this would mean a lot so as to spread the word #fight against the algorithm haha #I'm still very new to all this so please forgive me as this is all a learning process #Patreon #rottmnt replica #replica #rottmnt #kathaynesart #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #tmnt #unpause rottmnt #Donnie #replica Donnie

703 notes · View notes

risestarkiss · 1 year ago

Note

do you know when you'll post your first video on YouTube? No rush, I'm just curious.

○○○○

Good question! 😫 Right after my announcement I ended up immediately having to go out of town. ☠️

But, I have been working hard ever since my return. 😁 I completed the rise ramblings outro and intro music 🎵 and finalized my avatar redesign. 😚

I also decided to do a "soft start" video that's shorter, thus less stressful to produce than my long form ramblings. (which I need since I'm still new to the sound/video editing software.😩)

So with that in mind, I'm currently writing the script in hopes of voice recording by tonight and tomorrow and then I can screen record once that is complete.

So when will the video be posted?

When it's ready. 😂

Now, the real question is...are y'all ready for me?!

○○○○ 💜 RiseStarKiss Studios on Youtube | My Kofi Tip Jar 💜

36 notes · View notes

cherrycranes · 6 months ago

Text

Observed (Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Judge Jonathan Crane x Fem! reader Summary: You just moved to this fancy building and your serious neighbor invites you for a cup of tea... At first... Word count: 4,749 Contents: (Minors DNI) Drink spiking (aphrodisiac), light dom/sub, degrading, spanking, p in v, unprotected sex, ass play, orgasm denial, creampie. Author's notes: A new collab with bestie @fuckiingloser! Enjoy cause we've been thirsting for Crane lately. At the end you'll find a playlist to set the mood for this specific fic made by yours truly and a Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser!

Things had finally improved with you this past year. Your poorly paid job as a waitress was finally replaced with something that gave you much more money than what you were used to. Sure, being a stripper wasn’t exactly a career your family would be proud of, but it showered you, quite literally, in cash. The most exclusive strip club in Gotham had been so generous to you, you easily moved out of the east of town into a safer, wealthier area on the other side of the city. A nice apartment in a high rise condo much better than anything you had before.

It was definitely an adjustment, to say the least. In its pristine, minimalistic halls you stuck out like a colorful, almost nouveau riche thumb. No wonder you hadn't talked with your new, snobby neighbors yet. The most you got were dirty looks in the elevator or the hallway. Everybody could see right through you.

Even then, you tried to not let that get to you. If you could pay the rent, you belonged there, plain and simple. So you settled in.

It was a Friday night. Surprisingly, you didn’t have to work, instead you filled your time unpacking some things and procrastinating on the rest in favor of some trashy TV. Three knocks on your door snapped you out of it. A few packages you were expecting laid on your doorstep to your surprise. You had imagined those would be delivered to the lobby.

You brought them in. The first three matched in name, address and expected contents, the last one, however, was addressed to somebody else. A neighbor who seemingly lived right across the hallway from you but you had never met before.

Dr. Jonathan Crane.

Of course, you had to return it. You slipped into a pair of shoes and walked the small distance between your front door to the apartment number read on the package. You gave it a few knocks and right after, the door opened.

Now, you had definitely seen him before in the hallways, and even shared a silent elevator ride with him once, but it never crossed your mind that that would be Dr. Crane. He was attractive. Beautiful, in fact. And up close he was just a visual delight. The most mesmerizing pair of pale blue eyes, plump pink lips and soft chestnut brown hair faced you from just a few inches away. Had it not been for his serious, nerve-altering flat facial expression, you would have continued in the trance his beauty put you under.

“Hi… I’m your neighbor down the hall and I think I got your package by accident and brought it inside my place… Just wanted to return it to you...” Your voice gained enough strength the more you went on, but the slight unease didn’t disappear until his handsome features softened a bit.

Doctor Crane opened the door a little more, just enough to receive your package, his calloused fingertips lightly grazed your hand and sent an unintelligible feeling through you.

“Ah, well thank you for returning it…” His voice was just as attractive as him. Warm, clear, elegant. No trace of any particular accent that could give away his origin and open him up for a more meaningful small talk.

“Of course, what kind of neighbor would I be if I didn't?” You smiled kindly, a spark of the desire to stop being rejected by your neighbors obvious to his eyes and ears. He smirked, the kind of smirk a scholar would give to an open beginners book of a subject he mastered.

“Well, it was nice to mee-” You swallowed the rest of your words when Doctor Crane cut you off.

“I was actually just about to have a drink. Would you like to come in and join me as a thank you for returning my package?” His voice was monotone, ascetic. No hint of the ulterior lust you were used to from men. It honestly seemed like a great effort on his part, he didn’t appear like the kind of guy who enjoyed company.

Before your lips could mouth an automatic rejection, a rush of thoughts crashed over you. He was a stranger but he was also your next door neighbor. You were bound to see him frequently, in the hallways or the elevator. And if he was the only one in this building who didn’t look at you like you were trash, it wouldn't hurt to accept his offer. Could it?

“Sure, I'd like that.” You replied softly and he let you in. Your eyes widened at the sight of his apartment that was easily triple the size of yours and had multiple floors. It was difficult to believe this was in the same building, less right across from you. You had your little newfound money but this guy was definitely loaded.

He led you into what looked like his study, a dark, minimalistic place filled with books neatly arranged in their bookshelves, a handful of framed diplomas and expensive furniture that appeared brand new from how little they must have been used. You took a seat on the leather chaise lounge armchair in the middle of the room, taking in the environment.

“Anything in particular you would like to drink?” Doctor Crane asked cooly. Fitting. He walked across to the well stocked small bar he had there, actually ready for anything you desired to drink.

“I actually don’t drink alcohol…” You started, and he was a little shocked for a split second before returning to his serious but oddly kind expression.

“Interesting… How about some tea then?” He suggested, and that suited you just fine. He asked you how you liked your tea then disappeared out of the room and into his kitchen, leaving you alone.

The dark foggy Gotham City skyline stared right at you from the big window, droplets of water ran desperately down the glass thanks to the hard rain outside, usual for this time of the year. As you kept clouding your mind with remarks about the weather, the vastness of the city and your neighbor’s way of living, he returned with your tea, sitting in the chair right across from you and handing you your cup.

“Sorry I'm not really dressed as fancy as you…” You apologized with a faint laugh, your simple tight v-neck long sleeve and your pair of black leggings stood out in comparison to his suited form.

Doctor Crane smirked very lightly, pale blue eyes analyzing your form as if he had just noticed it was there. Your neck, cleavage, visible nipples, thighs and legs laid under the microscope of his mind, and it was much more strange than the filthy looks of desire men would give you. Even in the strip club, with you barely clothed, you felt less exposed. You took a sip from your cup, hoping that the rich flavor would wash away the feelings that look from him provoked in you.

“I've observed you have a rather strange schedule… always coming and going late in the night…” His voice was so casual, so deadpan, as if he had only commented about the rain outside. You nearly choked with your tea. Observed?

“Well, my job just has different hours-“ You swallowed hard, playing the “pretend you’re not a stripper” game you sometimes played.

“And what is your profession?” Crane insisted not even a second later, his crystal blue eyes bearing into yours and fanning the spark. You felt speechless, helpless. Why did he care so much? And why did you like it so much?

You took another sip of your tea, wondering just how appropriate it would be to tell the truth and weighing how hard it would be to upkeep a lie. Ultimately, you decided to be honest.

“I'm actually a dancer…” You said bluntly, preparing for the common shock the people you did tell always had upon their faces, and getting surprised when he showed none. There was an awkward pause in the silent and dark apartment only interrupted by the distant thunder outside. You continued to drink, your anxiety finishing with the rest of your tea and placing the empty cup on the coffee table, accidentally depriving you of something to fidget with. Your hands toyed nervously with each other in the dead silence for an eternity before he spoke again.

“Does being a whore fulfill you?”

Doctor Crane’s tone was so simple, so… Professionally mind blowing. You took a second to process it all. Nobody, absolutely nobody else would have ever gotten away with saying something like that to you. At least not without you telling them to fuck off. But for some reason that had everything to do with his voice, his eyes and his face, instead of anger, you felt your pussy fluttering beneath your leggings.

“I'm sorry… what?” You asked in an odd mix of shock, rightful offence and growing desire, unable to tell which feeling dominated. Crane, still so deadpan, leaned over, setting his cup next to yours on the table.

“I asked if being a whore fulfills you… Dancing for old men and taking their money? Does that make you happy?” Once more, his voice was flat, medically sterile. For a moment, you weren’t a woman. You were one of the many cases he studied.

You squeezed your thighs together, maybe to remind yourself of your own humanity, and your own growing arousal. This mad man had really invited you to his house, let you sit on his fancy chaise and invited you a cup of tea just to degrade you on your face. And, instead of insulting him and defending yourself like you should have, you got wet.

“It's just my job…” That’s all you managed to utter, your energies too busy keeping the rest of your body in check. Doctor Crane nodded, an obvious habit from his consultations.

“Do you have a relationship with your father?” He asked simply, his voice deep, not even a hint of mockery, just brutal, raw, unasked-for seriousness, and perhaps, judgement.

“That's a very rude thing to ask…” You whispered defensively.

“It’s really not if you do have one, which I'm assuming by your answer you don’t… Do you think that’s why you enjoy dressing in provocative clothing and dancing for men?” Crane asked, reaching over to touch your knee. You hated to admit, but his touch was electric. Just as dangerous as touching a wire with bare hands. Your pussy fluttered and clenched, your breath hitched and all the words you could have used to tell him off disappeared in your head.

There was another awkward silence in which his eyes didn’t stop looking into yours, drilling their way into your psyche. Crane smirked, as if he had actually gained physical access to it, and leaned in closer to you.

“I bet you’re already fucking soaking... I didn't even need to give you that aphrodisiac did I?”

Aphrodisiac.

Your head spun terribly and your heart pounded at the knowledge that he was absolutely right. Confused, nervous and horny you were. Dripping wet too. You looked down at your empty cup of tea in a futile attempt to find a trace of anything. Doctor Crane’s fiery hand slid up onto your thigh and interrupted your flimsy examination.

“What?” That was all you could muster.

“I think, in my professional psychiatrist's opinion, you’re in need of some guidance and attention from a smarter, older man…” His smooth, attractive voice pooled into a warm wet patch on your thong. Your mouth hung open slightly, watching him blink as the pieces fell together in your mind. The packages delivered straight to your apartment door, the last one being his, the insistence of getting you something to drink, the passing comment about observing you… He had set everything up to therapize you. To crack your mind open. And when he had you at your most vulnerable, when all of his uncomfortable questions and the tea had you under his thumb, to inevitably fuck you…

Testing you, Crane pulled his hand away from you, reveling in the little whine you made at the loss. He stood up and stepped right in front of you, his crotch on your face and his finger tilting your head up to meet his intense, serious gaze. Not knowing how much was the effect of the aphrodisiac and how much was your own desire, you felt butterflies for his sexy imposing presence, for the tiny smug smile he gave you and for the way he held his thumb to you before uttering the word: “Suck…” as a soft but serious command.

Craving the approval, you mindlessly wrapped your lips around his thumb, letting the pad of his finger rest on your tongue before starting to suck gently.

“Good girl…” he murmured, and it felt like a hit of a drug. The most addictive, altering feeling of your life.

“You know, I’m rather picky when it comes to my women. I think with my help you could be the perfect little wife. You’re much too pretty for that club… And I think you know that…” The more he spoke, the more you rolled your tongue over his thumb. You hummed in agreement, visions of you bathed in his attentions and riches making your cunt clench.

Crane pulled his thumb out of you with a sticky pop sound, running the tip over your bottom lip. He gave you a sly smile, his serious demeanor slipping a bit and revealing just how turned on he was.

“Get naked for me doll…” He rasped and you nearly moaned in anticipation. Who were you to deny him or disobey him?

With your head still reeling and the aphrodisiac coursing through your system, you pulled your shirt over your head, your tits bouncing free for his eyes to devour. He loomed over you, his cock ached in his dress pants at such perfection.

Intently, he visually traced every contour of your naked torso as you laid back on the therapist chair and slipped your leggings off, losing them somewhere on the pristine wooden floor. Crane enjoyed the show, sitting on the edge of the lounge as your most devoted audience. Blue eyes raked over the pink lace of your damp thong and he felt the urge to do something with his hands. His calloused touch slid up your legs, mapping out his new, soft, warm possession.

Your heart beat out of your chest and through the delicate folds of your pussy, begging and pleading for contact.

“I said naked…” Crane repeated a little sternly, deciding to not trust you to comprehend a basic order in your state and doing it himself. He took hold of the pink lace covering your core and ripped it, pulling the now shredded fabric off your body.

You gasped softly, unable to hold back a moan. Your body was buzzing in anticipation and reeling under the influence. You needed him. Badly.

“Much better…” He purred in satisfaction, gazing into your eyes with a burning desire. Calloused hands pushed your legs apart and examined just what he had gotten.

“God you’re just dripping…” It was a whispered, slightly needy observation that betrayed the seriousness of his actions. You had a wet, delicious, hot cunt that invited him to touch, to part your pretty folds to get a good look at your aching hole.

“Please…” You whispered, if not begged, speaking for the first time in ages. Crane smirked triumphantly, he had you at his perfect mercy and he couldn’t feel prouder. He responded to your plea by leaning over you, chest to chest, and capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Your arms wrapped around him for dear life, one of your hands plunged into his soft brown hair and took in the feeling of him, of his warm tongue slipping in slowly against yours in a sensual dance, of his hand that came up to cup your breast and roll your nipple. After a minute, he pulled back, leaving you breathless and looking up at him like a begging puppy. It was a perfect sight. Crane cracked a smile, soothing you with a caress to your cheek.

“God you’re beautiful…”

He whispered, almost fooling you into believing he had slipped out of the cruel dominant demeanor he had shown up to this point. The aphrodisiac, the praise and your own attraction to him had you reeling and buzzing for a second, and that was enough to drive you wild.

“Flip over…” Crane commanded. “On your knees, bent over and ass out for me…”

Immediately, you did as he said, eager to please. It was not the most comfortable of positions, with your head turned to the side, your cheek against the cold leather backrest and your hands clutching the frame of the chair, but in all honesty, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be fucked, and soon.

Crane groaned a bit, moving to adjust himself behind your tempting flesh. Both needy holes bare and on display for him to use however he wanted. One of his knees rested on the lounger behind you and one foot got planted on the floor for stability.

Without warning, you felt his hand come down on your ass. Hard. You yelped, then moaned, the pain mixing with pleasure deliciously and making you desperate for more. It was a whole miracle your pussy wasn’t dripping down your thighs and onto the fine leather at this point.

Another hard smack. This time on the other cheek to make it sting equally. You stifled out a whimper with a bite to your lip, catching the sound of his belt coming undone then followed by the zipper of his pants. You nearly shook in anticipation the longer he took to fill you up, and you started to believe he was deliberately toying with you. His large hands then grabbed a greedy handful of each asscheek, spreading them apart to get a good look at both holes.

“Please, Sir…” You finally got the courage to whisper, driven by your need. You wouldn’t be able to take any more foreplay, it felt like it could kill you.

He smiled to himself at the little “sir” that left your pleading lips, and while he didn’t respond with words, you felt the tip of his cock slowly rubbing back and forth against your sticky wet folds just to tease you. Taunt you. He covered his tip in your perfect slick and made you moan, but he held back the pulsating need to slam into you.

“You want me?” He asked huskily and simply so you could scream, obviously aware that you needed him. But he wanted you to say it.

“God yes…” You whined back to him, already out of breath. You tried to push back against him in hopes to get the tip to slip in, completely desperate for his cock.

Then, you felt his palm coming down on your ass for a third time, the slapping sound echoing through the study and its high vaulted ceilings just to remind you of how much of a slut you were for this man. Desire and whatever it was that composed the aphrodisiac coursed through your veins .

“I’m going fuck the whore out of you…” He sneered and without another word, his thick cock slammed into you in one go. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, nearly blinding you. You let out the loudest, whiniest moan for him yet, unable to even process just how good his perfectly curved long cock hit parts of you you didn’t know needed to be hit…

His hand gripped your hip possessively, giving you no time to adjust to him as he started to piston his hips into you. As if you needed it, you were dripping wet.

“Oh fuck- holy fuck-...” You whimpered and babbled absolute nonsense. Crane was fucking you stupid and drilling the obscene sounds of skin slapping and your pussy squelching into your mind. So filthy and erotic, you could even hear him grunting and groaning in a loss of composure. He couldn’t help it, not when he was balls deep inside this greedy slutty cunt after so much foreplay.

“This tight pussy’s getting fucked so good she’s talking to me… You hear yourself?” He asked, half satisfied, half degrading. It was like it fucking disgusted him yet it ignited him. Words failed you, all you did was moan over and over with his thrusts as a response.

“I think she knows exactly who she belongs to…” He cooed condescendingly to you, his hand coming down and spanking your ass again, leaving a sting that transformed into pleasure in its wake, adding to your already building orgasm.

“You…you… I belong to you!” You cried out stupidly, fucked so deeply, so thoroughly. His cock hit that special spongy spot inside you again and again, some drool threatened to spill down the corner of your lips from how mindlessly he was plowing you. He had really managed to erase every thought in your head, every single one except him.

“This pretty little asshole keeps winking at me… She’s begging for my attention…” He grunted, his balls slapping against your neglected clit as he drilled into you. You babbled incoherently at his words, already so fucked out and you had’t even come yet.

You heard him gather saliva in his mouth, then, a hot wad of spit hit your asshole, you whined in response. Crane’s hand reached down until his thumb was spreading his spit around your puckered hole and pushing it into your ass.

“Ffffuuuck.” You moaned loudly at the new sensation. The burning tension of your building orgasm threatened to boil over any time now. “P-please… I'm gonna come…” You begged so sweetly, desperate for a release the harder he pounded.

Crane’s hips then came to a stop, completely neglecting your orgasm. You felt like you could cry.

“If you want it that badly, you can fuck yourself on my cock… Work for it doll…” He said sternly, pulling his thumb out of your ass and making you whine.

Immediately, you started to bounce yourself on his cock, throwing your ass back at him like a pathetic whore. It was a feast to icy blue eyes, following closely how his cock slipped in and out of your tight, wet, hot pussy. The sensation became so good he couldn't hold back a groan of pleasure that sent his head back.

Air barely filled you agitated lungs the more you bounced yourself, chasing and earning your orgasm with desperation. You could tell he was close too. You felt it from how his thighs flexed and by the grunts he made. He would never admit such a filthy weakness like that out loud however.

A few more hard blows landed on your ass as you bounced his cock on him, making you clench hard every single time and moan like the whore he was trying to fuck out of you. Crane was even moaning himself, music to your ears and cunt.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, equally desperate.

“Fuck me- flip over… I have to see that pretty face when I come deep inside you…”

Thank fuck. A smirk grazed your lips at the audible desperation in his voice. You turned over onto your back, meeting his handsome face again, his hair was now a little disheveled and his forehead glistened with a little sheen of sweat. His long, painfully hard cock was coated in your arousal, and you groaned at the sight, finally seeing it after only having it inside. Crane scooted closer, pushing back into you with ease and wasting absolutely no time.

You bit your lip gently, looking up into his intense crystal blue eyes when you moaned in unison. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, spread them and pushed them up into your chest until he had you at a perfect angle, hitting the deepest parts of you. Your mouth fell open and your eyes closed just as he started to pump his hips into you, picking up speed until you couldn’t hold back loud whiny moans.

He reveled in the way your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, a smug smirk forming between heavy breaths.

“You fucking like that?” He groaned to you, making you nod frantically to the rhythm of your squelching pussy.

“This pussy is just begging me to come so deep…” His voice gave away just how little he would last. Your mind reeled at his words, at his serious and harsh personality slipping away to reveal how much he loved the feeling of you.

The pressure of your orgasm tightened in your lower abdomen as he fucked you unforgivingly hard and deep. You wouldn’t last much either.

“Please… I'm-I’m gonna come...” You whimpered, so pathetically fucked out, unable to hold it back anymore. His hips fucked you on autopilot and he smirked.

“Come for me doll…” He cooed to you sensually and that was all it took. Your orgasm ripped through you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Fireworks went off in your brain and your body trembled in the deepest, most needed pleasure. Your wet pussy tightened around him with greed, your back arched off the chair and your eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh my God!” You cried out to him, your legs shaking as he fucked you through it.

Crane looked down at you in amazement, his jaw hanging open and allowing heavy breaths to escape him. It was truly the best pleasure of your entire life, the junction of his devilish beauty, your need and the last rush of the aphrodisiac making you wild. He felt you milking his willpower out of him, he had no way to resist, to keep up the front.

“Jesus-“ That was all he could muster to say. A deep loud groan resonated in the study as he gave into the intense pleasure. Akin to you, something he had never felt before.

Dizzy and mind blown, he leaned over you, his sweaty forehead against yours as his hips finally came to a stop. His cock pulsed and filled you deeply with his load, drowning your cunt in him.

You both panted heavily, hot breath mingling and hitting each other’s faces until recovery from the hardest orgasm of your lives finally came. A curious, tentative hand came up to touch his cheek with newfound softness. You smiled a little, his eyes softened in a rare moment of tenderness until his lips found yours. The soft kiss soon turned into a slow, sensual makeout. His tongue slided against you sending a flood of tingles all over you.

Crane pulled back after a minute or two of melting onto you, moving back into his position and keeling between your legs. You watched in complete devotion how his half flaccid cock left your sated heat, leaving you so empty without him inside.

“Mmm, look at that…” He marveled, inspecting your puffy abused folds as his cum dribbled slowly out of you, his middle finger caught it and pushed back inside you. You moaned at the feeling, watching intently.

“I think with the proper training and sessions like these, you’ll be the most lovely little wife…” He practically cooed to you, and it became your life mission. Your heart swelled with the idea, no matter how demeaning it was, you were under his spell even though the aphrodisiac had completely worn off by now.

The man you wanted to please the most flashed you that perfect smile, pulling his finger out of you just to offer it to your lips. You happily obliged, sucking it clean with your gliding tongue and humming at the combined taste of you.

“You’ll stay here tonight…” He commanded quietly, and you agreed right away, your obedience and devotion coddling to his already inflated ego. He had looked far and wide for the perfect partner… Pet…. Wife… Who would have thought she’d move in next door?

“Your next session will be in the morning, you’ll show me how good you can suck a cock…” Crane’s hand stroked your cheek softly yet possessively, and despite how sexualizing and objectifying it was, all you could ever feel was excitement for what was to come in the morning. And every morning after that.

You could tell that it was just the beginning for you both…

-Pinterest board made by the lovely @fuckiingloser

-Fic playlist made by me.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy characters #fanfic #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x female reader

738 notes · View notes

cloudyluun · 6 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🌸

y’all… can’t believe i’m actually making one of these omg! buy me a coffee if you'd like to support me!

Searchable tags:

#cloudyluun's original post - original content only! chapters, one-shots, blurbs, rambles, sneak peeks, and promos. perfect if you want to skip past all the reblogs. (i'm doing this as of 26 february)

#ask - every ask and message i’ve responded to

#into my notes - requests and ideas currently sitting in my drafts, waiting for their moment to shine

#to be read - fics i want to read

MY BLOG RULES!

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 & 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

requests are open!! but i’m slow sometimes, so pls be patient <3 i swear i’m not ignoring u

commissions are open too!! they become top priority!

𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝:

works with sexual content will be tagged in pink

my writing might include mature themes, so read at your own discretion!

everything here is pure fiction, don’t take it too seriously

NOTING of my work is made with AI, i've given more info, you can read it here

Want more stories? I offer exclusive content, early access, and extra goodies on [Patreon]! If Patreon isn’t your thing, I also offer another option (message me for this!). Just know, no matter what, I’m just so grateful you’re here!

all my work belongs to me, so be kind. want to be notified when I post? join my taglist! thanks for stopping by <3

(Worried about Patreon crashing your credit card party, or is your bank just not vibing with it? No worries, slide into my DMs @cloudyluun for a super-secret, totally chill way to access my exclusive masterlist!)

Special Preview to Rewrite The Stars

Special Preview to The Last First Time

Special Preview to The Heroine's Fall (my debut novel)

if you want more info, click here!

Office Hours (professor!harry) | (ongoing)

A simple essay question leads to something far more dangerous. As tension rises between you and Professor Styles, you’re forced to ask yourself: is desire worth the risk?

Backstage Serenade (famous!harry) | (on hold)

What starts as just another concert night takes an unexpected turn when Harry Styles himself locks eyes with Y/N from the stage.

London Fever (neighbour!harry) | (ongoing)

Moving into her new London apartment, Y/N never expected her infuriatingly irresistible neighbor, Harry Styles, to become her most dangerous obsession.

No Camera's Allowed (famous!harry) | (completed)

A secret relationship, a high-profile event, and an unbearable amount of tension. When the cameras flash, will the truth stay hidden—or will everything come crashing down?

Press Play (boyrfriend!harry) | (ongoing)

A camera, a suggestion, and a night of absolute filth. Once the recording starts, there’s no stopping what comes next.

Sunburnt & Smitten | (completed)

A sun-soaked, drama-filled collab where Harry learns the hard way that his biggest romantic rival isn’t another guy—it’s the book you won’t put down.

Serendipity & Stumbles (single-parent!harry) [part 1 ] [bonus scene] [epilogue]

Indigo (famous!harry) [part 1]

Raw & Reckless (boyfriend!harry) [part 1]

Easy Money (sugardaddy!harry) [part 1]

Love me, Ruin me, Lose me (playboy&fratboy!harry) [part 1]

Until You Stay (famous!harry) [part 1]

Private Show [part 1]

Polished in Love [part 1]

Matilda [part 1]

Look At Me When You Take It [part 1]

Perfectly Imperfect [part 1]

Soft Spot [part 1]

Silver Springs [part 1]

And The Oscar Goes Too... (famous!actress x famous!harry) [part 1]

Into The Wild (tour guide!harry) [part 1]

The Cost of Keeping You (CEO!harry) [part 1]

Lash Out (And Love Me) (nail&lashtag!reader) [part 1]

Bet You Think About Me [part 1]

Test Drive [part 1]

I Didn’t Mean to Break You [part 1]

The Tattoo Artist [part 1]

if you scrolled all the way ily!! 💞

#harry styles #masterlist #harry styles masterlist #fanfiction masterlist #one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #cloudyluun #cloudyluun's masterlist

473 notes · View notes

bluelockmaniac · 1 year ago

Text

⌗ "I'LL GO EASY ON YOU," ⋮ but you absolutely fucking destroy him.

★ nagi seishiro x gn!reader ╰ how come you've obliterated him in something he's so good at?

▯ content warning. mentions of video game gunfire, shooting, etc.

"sei, this game looks fun," you murmured, shifting slightly to adjust your position on his lap. his eyes remained glued to the glowing screen, the faint gleam of colours casting a hazy light across his face. his arms were looped firmly around your waist, thumbs expertly swiping over the controller in his hands.

as you were cozily nestled inside his sweater, filled with the subtle scent of his cologne, you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest. you observe him deftly move his virtual character across the battlefield, shooting enemies and cursing under his breath at each hindering obstacle. after being in this same position for quite some time, a sense of boredom had begun to bubble within you.

"mm, yeah?" he mumbles, resting his chin on your head. he tilts his head down to press a kiss onto your soft hair. "it is."

"can i try?"

he stays silent for a moment, the room filled with the sounds of obnoxiously loud bursts of gunshots. he finally takes a breath and speaks, his voice muffled against your hair. "tis’ really hard though. i don’t think y’can win,"

your brows furrow as you whip your head slightly to meet his gaze, raising your hand to pinch his cheek. "hmm, how would you know? i could be better than you!"

"yeah, yeah, fine," he pulls his face away from your fingers’ grip on his cheek. he gives you a faint smile, exiting out of the game and clicking 'new game'. "i'll go easy on you."

you slide off his lap with anticipation, grabbing the fluffy bean bag he had bought exclusively for you from the corner of his room, placing it next to him. giving it a pat to smoothen its wrinkles, you made your way to the tv stand's drawer in quick strides, retrieving an extra game controller.

"you don't have to, sei," you smile warmly, settling into the softness of the bean bag as you prepare to show nagi seishiro what you were made of. "i want it to be fun."

he nods, hesitantly clicking the start button. while watching the one-minute timer displayed on the screen, he remembers to explain the rules to you.

"basically," he begins, "there’s a five-minute time limit. the person who reaches one hundred kills first, or whoever is the closest to one hundred kills, wins."

"yeah, i know, dummy." you tease, reaching out to tousle his hair, in which he responds with a subtle blush tinging his cheeks rose. "i've been watching you play for at least an hour now."

the bolded numbers on the now-split screen enlarge, signaling the beginning of the new game; 3...2...1...

you waste no time, immediately equipping your weapon, fingers swiftly moving along the buttons. silence was quick to envelop the room, thick with the weight of your competitiveness.

nagi shoots you a surprised, quick glance, before focusing his gaze back onto his side of the screen. suddenly, his attention is drawn to the corner of your part of the screen, where your kill count is displayed.

to say the least, this man was astonished to find out that you’ve racked up 63 kills in slightly under three minutes. his eyes widened in disbelief ever so slightly, registering the number with admiration.

"what the heck..." he accidentally huffs, quickly pressing his mouth together as the sound of his confused voice reaches his ears.

you let out an amused giggle, "surprised?"

he does not respond, lost in his own muddled thoughts. how could he, after underestimating you so badly? how could he say anything when you, as you were currently speaking, have over 60 kills compared to his mere 34?

the white-haired boy feels a prick of suspicion creeping in; he hadn’t known that his partner was an expert at video games. why hadn’t you told him? he sighs, realizing that the person he could have played with all this time was right beside him all along; he would no longer need to play with his tediously boring game-mates or those doltish bots which he had always deemed a hassle.

then, the game came to an abrupt stop.

98 - 52

he stares hard at the game over screen, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "nuh-uh, let's do it again..."

"ahh, i told you i could win!" you cheer, your finger lightly tugging on the skin under your eye as you stick your tongue out in jest. "and sure, i really want to hit one hundred this time!"

a soft grumble escapes his pouty lips as he buries half his head under the inside of his sweatshirt, leaving only his eyes visible. "m'baby's so cocky..."

100 - 67

"fuck, again!"

99 - 75

"this game's gotta be rigged!"

96 - 56

"seiii, i'm boredddd—"

"one mo' time,"

89 - 88

"ack–fuck this shit… i'm going to sleep."

you blink your eyes in silent amusement— this was a side of him you had rarely ever seen. your usually calm, bored boyfriend trying so hard at something; it was adorable seeing him so invested, even if it was simply a video game.

but somehow, you had managed to fire him up enough to the point of rage quitting?

"y’know sei, i was going easy on you..."

"..."

despite his muted response to the fuel you've added to the fire, you catch a glimpse of a proud smile tugging on his lips as he retreats back onto the bed, beckoning you to join him. “that was fun… play w’me again, ‘kay?”

1K notes · View notes

ghostlyferrettarot · 2 months ago

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･ Astro Observations: Beauty Edition ⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

💫If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!💫

💿Masterlist💿 💿Masterlist 2💿

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus in Aries there's something punk about their appeal, they are like the embodiment of Vivienne Westwood punk-rock aesthetics. As if they're beautiful just because they don't care. They have that "I'm going to break your heart and make you grateful for the experience" energy. 100% sexy chaos and a lovely one.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Aquarius Rising = Alien beauty. They don't look like everyone else, and that's the point, i often see the most beautiful and otherworldly faces in these individuals.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus in Pisces have a dreamy, sad beauty, as if they're in another dimension and you only see them through glass. I also have seen them fall in love in secret and suffer deeply, but almost in an melancholic and angelic way. They have a melancholic beauty to them.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus in House 1 = Those people walking down the street and EVERYONE turns around. It's literally like they have a pink mist surrounding them. They are the "I don't know why I like this person, but I want to look at them more." Many people are jealous of them aswell.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus conjunction Pluto gives an obsession aspect to the beauty of this indivuals. This is the person you kiss once and then dream about for months. Their beauty is transformative. Intense. Many admirers and obsess people around them.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Ascendant in harmonious aspect with Venus gives you effortlessly a beautiful face. Harmonious beauty. Others feel good just looking at you.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･ Saturn in harsh aspect with Venus gives cold, elegant, elusive beauty. The “ice queen aesthetic.” Audrey Hepburn. People respect you and then silently fall in love with you. What a queen/king.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus in House 5, your beauty is to show, to share. Eye-catching looks, stage vibe. “I'll leave you thinking about me even if you see me for two seconds.” They give SUPERSTAR.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus + Neptune = people who seem like a dream. Everything about them is vague, romantic, idealized. They are your dream person and the same time you know nothing about them.

⋆.ೃ࿔🖤*:･Venus in Taurus, they smell good, dress well, hug you, and it feels like an emotional spa. These are people who don't need filters because they were born in "Renaissance painting" mode, they are just like a fairy.

446 notes · View notes

blacknedsoul-blog · 5 months ago

Text

An unnecessarily detailed analysis of the alcoholic beverages at the last meal

Okey, situation: as some of you may know if you watch this blog often, I'm a cocktail aficionado. I was recently doing some research on port wine because I wanted to buy one to make some Lenore-based themed cocktails and because I wanted to expand my ingredient list (Vitamin wines are quite versatile) and I ended up with the idea of doing a more in-depth review on this topic.

Lenore: Oport Wine

Okay, let's start with what gave rise to this. Port wine is a type of fortified wine (i.e. wine to which other distillates are added before fermenting, which increases the alcohol content) born in the city of Oporto in Portugal around the XVI-XVII century, this specific variety of wine uses aguardente before being fermented.

There are several types of port, so it is difficult to know which is exactly the one Lenore is drinking, but from the dark red color of the glass, I have two options: a ruby port or a vintage port.

The first is the more commonly distributed (and, in some places, cheaper) is a fruity, sweetish wine with a hint of acid; so it's the kind of thing you'd probably drink at a meal. However, the second is the most expensive variety of port and the only one that is bottle-aged; taking into consideration that the Vandernatch belonged to New York royalty, it is very likely that this is the specific variety Lenore is drinking.

Eulalie: lager

So that we all agree: lager (or lager beer) is the most popular variety of beer in the world. They are light, mild, bitter and served cold.

What she has in her glass must specifically be a pale lager. That is, what we all have in mind when we think of a glass of beer, having a pale golden color.

One important thing is that two of Japan's largest brewing companies specialize in lager beer: Kirin and Sapporo; both brands began to be marketed during the 19th century.

Another detail is that the brewing industry was reactivated in the USA during the year 1933 and, although hardly at the beginning, by the 1940's beer production increased considerably.

So the type of beer she is drinking may be a nod to her Japanese heritage (lager is the most popular type of beer in Japan) or we can assume that she was a customer at the brewpubs that were popular in the USA during the reopening of the beer trade after prohibition.

Morella: guinness

This is a very special case. The beer that Morella is drinking is specifically a guinness, that is, a brand of black beer brewed since 1759 that was born in the city of Dublin in Ireland.

Although this beer is also drunk a lot in Scotland, the truth is that it is much more popular in Ireland, so we can assume that it is a reference to her country of origin.

Pluto: cider

Cider is an ancient drink (it is said that the Hebrews and Egyptians already made it), but it became extremely popular in England during the 17th century, surpassing beer in popularity and becoming part of the cultural identity of the country, having a lot of varieties.

It's impossible to know which specific cider Pluto is drinking but, as with Morella, it's quite indicative of its country of origin.

Duke: brandy

Brandy is a type of spirit obtained from the distillation of wine and there are tons of variations throughout the world. Although the most common origin story I've found tells of a Dutch merchant who bought wines in the Cognac region of France and distilled them, leaving the alcohol in casks so he could collect it on his return trip (which never came to fruition).

Now, one interesting thing here is that even if you can argue that brandy was born in France, it is interesting that Duke is drinking “brandy” in generic rather than drinking Cognac or Armagnac, which are two varieties of brandy produced exclusively in France.

Montresor: bourbon

This is a type of whiskey made exclusively in the USA and is native to Kentucky from the fermentation of corn. It has been produced since the end of the 18th century and, fun fact, its first known producer was a Baptist pastor.

Anyway, the interesting thing about Montresor drinking it is that bourbon is a drink that was, for a long time, “popular” and is commonly associated with the southern part of the USA. Another interesting thing is that it has a fairly high alcohol content, reaching over 50% alcohol.

Ada: champagne

Fun fact: the name “champagne” is exclusive to the region of the same name, although we usually call sparkling wines in general.

And yes, we all know that champagne is a drink associated with luxury, but this made me review why and there are several reasons why Ada would choose it to accompany her caviar:

Champagne was the favorite drink of the European courts and bourgeoisie for quite some time.

Having a rather complicated winemaking process, it was stupidly expensive.

Serving champagne “correctly” is a real pain in the ass: the bottle is kept horizontally, you have to drink it in a specific glass at a temperature of 6-8 degrees Celsius (to reach this temperature is that they put it in ice buckets for about 20 minutes) and the glass has to be tilted in a particular way. So it's understandable why, of all the fancy things available, she would choose this.

Berenice: Gin Fizz

This is, to me, the most interesting drink of all the ones in this section. Let's take it one at a time.

The Gin Fizz was born in the 19th century, where several versions are documented. However, the one who hated the great leap in the preparation of this cocktail was Henry C. Ramos, in the city of New Orleans. One of his Gin Fizz could have up to 30 bartenders involved passing a shaker around for half an hour.

The popularity of this cocktail increased dramatically during the Prohibition era, since, in all its versions, it looks like lemonade.

Since Bernice's Gin Fizz doesn't seem to have an excessive amount of foam, it's likely a pre-Ramos recipe (which is kind of funny because The Bartender's Guide cocktail manual of 1876 considers the Gin Fizz to be a hangover remedy).

Another fun fact: if Bernice isn't looking surprised at the ice cubes inside her cocktail, it's because this girl was used to ultra-luxury bars: refrigeration wasn't a thing back then and if your drink ever got ice, it was more likely to be an ugly block chopped up badly than a nice ice cube.

#nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #Ada nevermore #Montresor Nevermore #duke nevermore #Pluto Nevermore #Eulalie Nevermore #Berenice Nevermore #In the “I can be a bit of a hypocrite” chapter #I consider all the things you do to serve champagne the right way really silly #but I swear it makes me viscerally angry how Lenore holds her glass #girl the warmth of your hand will warm that up more than it is necessary!

322 notes · View notes

noirscript · 1 month ago

Text

Inked Possession | part two

pairing: yandere artist x erotic book writer!reader description: At his exhibit, Eleazar’s jealousy ignites with a stranger’s laugh—and by nightfall, you’re blindfolded, bound, and painted in his studio, every touch a possessive reminder that you belong only to him. warning/s: Yandere behavior, possessiveness, explicit sexual content, bondage (restraints), blindfolding, jealousy, emotional manipulation, exhibitionism (implied), power dynamics, obsessive love, rough sex, worship/adoration, noncon/dubcon undertones. note: enjoy!!! the pre-order for Callixto's ebook will end next week (Monday) so make sure to reserve a copy of the ebook PLUS the exclusive freebies that comes with it! The freebies will only be available during the pre-order period.

It begins with a laugh.

Not yours. And definitely not Eleazar’s.

The gallery hums with polite chatter and soft music, all of it bleeding into the undercurrent of hushed awe and too-hungry eyes. It’s a private preview of Anatomy of Devotion,

Eleazar’s newest exhibit—his obsession rendered in brushstrokes. You. In shadows and warm light. Draped in his shirt, curled into his bed, arched across canvas like you belonged there more than in your own skin.

And you do, don’t you?

You feel exposed, not because of the nudity or the rawness of each painting, but because you know he painted them while you slept, dreamed, moaned. The audience doesn't see that part. But he does. And you do. And it burns beneath your clothes.

From across the room, you sense his eyes on you. He’s dressed in black again—casual in a way that still looks powerful, shoulders straight and jaw tense. His dark hair is slightly messy, a curl brushing the edge of his cheekbone. He watches you with an intensity that borders on unnerving. You offer a small, reassuring smile, a signal: I'm fine. I'm just talking.

He doesn’t smile back.

You turn to excuse yourself politely from the nearby crowd, but someone steps in.

“This one,” a voice says beside you, male, amused, too relaxed for your comfort. “Damn. That’s my favorite.”

You follow his gaze and immediately regret it. He’s pointing to the massive oil painting of you in Eleazar’s studio chair, one leg folded under the other, wearing nothing but his ruined, paint-smeared shirt. The same one that now hangs like a shrine in your shared bedroom.

“The way you’re looking in this?” the assistant says, sipping his champagne with a crooked grin. “Like someone just dragged you out of a fever dream. Fucking raw. He nailed it.”

You offer a tight smile, holding your glass a little too firmly. “He captures what matters.”

He leans in slightly, voice dropping as if you’re already conspiring. “If I had someone like you in my studio, I’d never stop painting. Or touching. I mean… ever considered posing for someone else?”

The comment slides across your skin like rot. You pull away a fraction, breath caught in your throat—but it’s already too late.

The man doesn't notice. “I’ve got a setup. Nothing big, but I can be a lot more fun than your guy.”

The flute nearly slips from your hand.

It doesn’t shatter. It doesn’t have to.

Because Eleazar is suddenly behind him.

The temperature of the room changes. The quiet turns heavy. The gallery’s background noise continues—oblivious—but here, where Eleazar stands, the world becomes razor-sharp.

The assistant laughs nervously, stepping back as if he’s only now aware of the storm forming inches from his face. “Oh—hey. Didn’t see you there, man. Just a joke. Your wife’s stunning, really. You must be proud.”

Eleazar’s smile is slight and sharp. It looks polite. It isn’t.

“I’m always proud of what’s mine,” he replies, calm and low, too calm. “But you strike me as the kind of man who doesn’t understand boundaries until he’s bleeding.”

The man blanches, and you can practically smell the fear start to rise off him. You reach out to place a hand on Eleazar’s arm, grounding, a silent plea not to cause a scene here.

He doesn’t need to.

He takes your hand instead and guides you through the crowd, slow and silent, his grip firm but not harsh. You follow without protest.

---

The drive home is quiet. Not cold—just sharpened into something that leaves no room for distractions.

Eleazar keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh, flexing every now and then like he’s holding back something primal. His jaw is tight, his profile locked in shadow, and even the air feels afraid to stir.

You try once, softly. “Eleazar—”

“Don’t.”

You flinch. Not because of the volume—he doesn’t raise his voice—but because of the meaning behind it. He rarely interrupts you. When he does, it's because he's trying not to unravel.

“I could smell him on you,” he says after a while, his voice calmer now but laced with restrained venom. “Like a stain.”

“He didn’t touch me,” you whisper. “He was being inappropriate, yes, but I didn’t engage.”

“You laughed.”

“I didn’t mean to. It was uncomfortable. I was trying to be polite—”

“You laughed.” His knuckles tighten around the wheel, the leather creaking. “Do you know what that does to me? Hearing that sound, knowing it wasn’t for me?”

You stay quiet.

“I won’t punish you for his stupidity,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But I will remind you what your smile belongs to. What you belong to.”

---

He doesn’t even wait for you to enter the apartment. He leans down as he opens the car door, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and murmurs, “Studio. Now.”

You obey.

Inside the space where he paints you daily, the scent of varnish and oil hits you like memory. It’s thick in the air—intimate, private. You notice immediately the cloth and basin of warm water, the soft silk rope, and the blindfold folded neatly on his stool.

It’s not a punishment.

It’s a lesson.

He enters a moment later. Locks the door behind him. Doesn’t say a word as he moves behind you and begins unzipping your dress. It slips from your shoulders like surrender, pooling at your feet.

You don’t fight him when he lifts you into the studio chair—the one you’ve posed on countless times, the one he’s immortalized you in. He moves slowly, methodically, securing your wrists behind the chair with the silk rope, then spreading your ankles to tie them to the legs.

The blindfold is the last thing. He slides it on gently, fingertips brushing your temples.

Darkness falls.

You can feel the shift in the air as he steps back. The silence lengthens. Then you hear it—the sound of his fingers dipping into paint.

When his touch returns, it’s cold and deliberate. He draws a line across your collarbone, slow and thick.

“This one’s black,” he says near your ear. “Do you remember what black means?”

You nod, throat dry. “Mine.”

“Good girl.”

He paints over your chest, dragging his fingers in spirals around your nipples until they harden. Down your ribs, across your stomach, then along your thighs—everywhere but where you need him most. He avoids your core deliberately, punishing you without pain.

The next color is red. “This is for shame. For forgetting—even briefly—that your smile is sacred. That it belongs only to me.”

The red stains your inner thighs, the underside of your breasts, your throat.

Then comes gold. He doesn’t speak as he paints a streak from your heart to your navel, a line of reverence amid chaos.

You sit there—tied, blindfolded, dripping in black and red and gold. Helpless. Waiting.

And still, he doesn’t touch you there.

He disappears briefly, and when he returns, it isn’t with fingers or paint.

It’s with warm cloth.

He parts your thighs and presses the soft towel to your center, cleaning you with the kind of care that borders on sacred. Each pass is gentle, almost worshipful, as he murmurs, “You think I’d risk your body for a lesson? No. I’d never hurt what’s mine.”

The moment the cloth drops away, so does his restraint.

He goes to his knees, and when his tongue finally touches you, it’s not tentative.

He eats you like a starving man—devouring every moan, every shudder, holding your thighs in place as you buck and cry out against the ropes. He doesn’t stop, even when you beg him to, even when you sob that you’re close.

Especially then.

He forces it out of you like confession, like sin.

When you fall apart, trembling and sobbing, he rises slowly. His belt unfastens. His zipper follows. You can hear the scrape of fabric, the rustle of movement, and then he’s there—pressing into you, filling you with a single, brutal thrust.

Your scream echoes.

He groans above you, voice rough with need. “You’ll never laugh for anyone but me. You’ll never write another smile that doesn’t belong to me.”

“I won’t,” you cry, already breaking again.

“You’ll write me into every draft. Every kiss. Every fuck.”

“Yes—yes—only you—”

His pace is merciless. The chair creaks beneath your bound frame as he drives into you, each thrust branding, each moan a claim carved into your bones.

You lose track of how many times you come. It blurs into rhythm—him, you, the ropes, his voice, the heat. You sob out his name, not from pain, but from surrender.

When he finishes, it’s with a growl pressed into your neck.

He unties you slowly. Carefully. Then carries you to bed like something fragile and beloved, laying you down in clean sheets even as your skin still bears his paint.

You don’t need to speak. His hands say it all. So do the kisses he trails across each bruised thigh, each paint-streaked breast.

---

The next morning, your coffee is hot, the sheets are clean, and your laptop is open.

There’s a new document saved on your desktop.

Eleazar – Part I

Beneath it, in the document’s header, a single note:

“Only I get to read you, darling. Write accordingly.”

TBC.

← Previous | Next →

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere fic #yandere x y/n #yandere male x reader #yandere artist #yandere artist x reader #yandere artist x writer reader #yandere artist x you #yandere artist x darling #yandere artist x female reader

182 notes · View notes