beautifulfern

[beautifulfern]

Kiss Me Through the Phone

Summary: The Republican jerk who follows you on Twitter turns out to actually be kind of nice. You’re more than content with him just being an internet acquaintance, but plans change when it turns out that he’s going to be attending the same event tonight as you.

Word Count: 2891

A/N: Just a cute Duncan story that @trelaney gave me the idea for. I don’t really know how I feel about it though, so feedback (positive, negative, apathy) would be greatly appreciated!

The light emanating from the phone on the counter is what draws your attention away from your laptop. Knowing how easily distracted you get, you had to put yourself on a temporary social media break in order to finish your assignment. You’re close to being finished, working on proofreading and fine-tuning, so you decide to give yourself a little break and check your notifications. They’re nothing too important; the group chat went off in your absence, a text from your grandma, news bulletins, some Instagram notifications, the usual items. When you reach the end of your scrolling, you can’t help the rolling of your eyes at the all-too-familiar Twitter notification. @DuncanShepherd replied to your tweet.

You’re not even sure how it got to this point. You’re not famous by any means, and the only people with check-marks that follow you are the Soundcloud rappers who follow everybody and anybody in an attempt to gain more listeners. Twitter, for you, was just a fun social media platform that involved memes and lots of discourse. You had just never thought you would be a part of the discourse.

Duncan Shepherd had stumbled across your humble little profile when you made fun of his family’s Foundation and the app that was currently being investigated for claims that they were stealing users’ personal data. It wasn’t anything that you considered too funny, but it went semi-viral before Duncan had managed to find it. Not being pleased with his illegal dealings being broadcasted even more than they already were, he sent you a DM ‘politely’ asking you to take the post down or risk having to deal with his lawyers. You refused, and a battle commenced.

Almost every single thing you posted, Duncan would try to be there with a comeback. You decided that two could play at that game, and proceeded to clap back to his posts as well. It was a classic conservative vs. liberal battle, and people of all political ideologies were eating it up. You had gained double the followers you previously had, and all because this Duncan Shepherd was apparently a very big deal in Washington D.C. Still being pretty new to the area, and not being involved in the political hierarchy of the city, you had no clue who he was at first. The one follower you had gained that was a little confusing to you was Duncan himself. You, at first, refused to follow him, instead just bookmarking his profile so you could be quick to find his most recent dumbass tweet.

Sometimes, though, he was pretty nice to you. You thought it might be some tactic to catch you off guard; act nice, then go in for the kill when he learns a secret about you and force you to delete your account. That hadn’t happened yet, and although Duncan could still be pretty mean to you when the public could see it, it turned out that he did have a heart. After a rough day led you to make a ‘joking’ post about the wonders crying for two hours does for your skin, Duncan had reached out through direct message.

“Saw your recent tweet; you okay?” The message read. You had been awoken by the sound of your phone chiming, and your eyes burned from opening them after a long cry session followed by a nap. You were confused; why would Duncan Shepherd care about how you were feeling? Not wanting to be rude, you type out a response.

“I’m fine, just a rough day. Thanks for checking on me, you really didn’t have to :)” You answer. Stumbling out of bed to grab a glass of water, you’re disoriented at how much time has passed since you got home this afternoon. The sky’s streaked with the last rays of sunlight, and your bag remains on the floor where you threw it. You hadn’t meant to let the day’s events get to you, and by themselves it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But after failing a test, your study group meeting to work on a test without you, getting yelled at by your manager, and then getting cut off in traffic and almost getting in a wreck, your eyes were brimming with tears. You were barely able to make it through the door before a sob broke through and all of your emotions came bubbling up. Your phone chimes again, and you look at the screen.

“Do you want to talk about it? You didn’t seem okay.”

“No offense, but why do you care? Thought I was your internet enemy.” Your thumbs fly across the screen.

“Just because we have a difference of opinion on a lot of things doesn’t mean I don’t care about your wellbeing, (Y/N).” You laugh lightly, thinking of a way to respond.

“Really? You mean you don’t hate me?”

“No, I don’t hate you. In fact, it kind of makes my day whenever I get to see one of your witty responses. So?”

From there, you had told him everything; that your friends always ditched you, and how you were worried that coming to D.C. was fruitless and that you wouldn’t make anything of yourself. In return, he shared things with you. Things about his family, and how he always felt like he was disappointing them by not living up to their standards. How he didn’t have any actual friends because they were always trying to use him for some sort of political gain. You both started talking more frequently, and eventually you even followed him back. You still enjoyed the banter you could share through replies, but you also saw the man behind the profile.

You unlock your phone, confused as to why he would be replying to anything you posted today. Nothing too political happened, and you only tweeted a couple of things about having to find a dress for some gala your boss wanted you to go to tonight. Yes, you had finally gotten a job in your desired field, and it was a breath of fresh air after the retail job you were originally working. Clicking on Twitter, you wait patiently for the app to load. The bright blue screen gives way to your timeline, which you really have no interest in right now. You tap on your notifications, waiting until they give way to what Duncan’s replied to. The tweet in question is one you’re quite proud of; you asked how good your chances were of sneaking food in your purse at the upcoming gala you’d be attending.

“This wouldn’t happen to be the Harper-Avery Benefit Gala, would it?” Your smile, which you weren’t even aware of, slowly falls. There’s no way he could be there, right? This gala didn’t even have anything to do with politics, it’s just a fancy evening meant to benefit people who are sick with something-or-other. Honestly, you hadn’t expected to ever meet him in person; your online friendship with this man was something you always thought would remain online. The mere prospect of actually seeing him is mildly terrifying to you. If you had to admit it, he was kinda cute when you looked past how annoying he could be.

“Yeah, it is that one. Why?” You choose to DM him, not wanting to clog up your phone with a conversation through replies. The reply is near-instantaneous, the telltale three bubbles popping up right after you hit ‘send.’

“I’ll be there, actually.”

“You’ll be there? What does a Republican lobbyist have to do at a benefit for sick people?”

“Haha, very funny. My family’s actually been donating to this Foundation for a long time, we attend every year.”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. You click your phone off quickly and slide it across the table, not sure what to do next. You’ve become much too comfortable texting about everything with a man you’ve never even met before. The two of you have shared a lot with each other, things you’ve never even said to your friends. It’s just easier talking to a person when it’s not face-to-face, when there’s time to craft the perfect response. Before you can even think of responding, your phone goes off again. You hesitate before grabbing your phone again, breathing a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were waiting for.

“Why are you attending?” Okay, this is fine. A nice, normal question.

“It’s for work. Remember that new job I told you about? They sponsor a lot of events the Harper-Avery Foundation puts on, so they want to send a few ‘reps.’” Your instincts are telling you to delete your account, quit your job, and go into the Witness Protection Program, but you push that irrational side of you to the side.

“So I’ll see you there, then?” If you read into the text, which you would never do, you would think that it was bordering on flirtatious.

“I guess you will. I’ll be the one who looks painfully out of place at an event like that.”

“See you tonight. I’ll be sure to save a drink for my favorite liberal snowflake ;)” ‘Snowflake’ was his favorite nickname to call you, and while it used to get on your nerves, now it’s become almost endearing. Your heart pounds in your chest and you groan, head falling to rest on the table.

“Stop, he’s just some random guy you talk to sporadically. It’ll be fine.” You try to reassure yourself. It doesn’t work at all, and you reluctantly stand when you realize there’s only a couple of hours until you have to be at the lavish downtown ballroom.

The gala is just as awkward as you thought it would be, even before you were faced with the fact that you’re in the same room as Duncan. You haven’t seen him yet, and you’ve already consumed more champagne than you normally would have in an effort to quell your nerves. You’re not drunk, not by any means, but it is helping you to feel a little more at ease. An hour into the event and you’re ready to go home. You’ve already talked to all of the influential people your boss wanted you to speak with, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were required to be there until 10, you’d already be in an Uber.

You’re standing against the wall, fiddling with your phone in an attempt to look like you’re busy, when someone settles next to you. You don’t look up, thinking it’s your coworker who had motioned that they’d hang with you as soon as they were done talking to whoever they were talking to. When the person clears their throat, you finally look up.

“I was wondering when I’d run into you, (Y/N).” You flush in embarrassment. The first thing you notice about Duncan Shepherd is how stunning his blue eyes actually are. The second thing you notice is how tall he is, followed by his warm smile.

“Sorry about that, I’m really not good at these events.” You smile awkwardly at him. How are you supposed to greet a person you’ve shared so many thoughts with when you’re meeting them for the first time?

“You’re in luck, then, because I’ve been going to these things since I was a kid.” He holds his arm out for you to take, and you’re momentarily flustered at how strong his arm feels. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Wait, there’s drinks here that aren’t champagne?” You’re not the biggest fan of champagne, finding it too bubbly, but you were under the impression that it was the only alcoholic beverage available.

“Snowflake, it’s a gala by rich people, for rich people. Of course there’s a full bar.” Duncan chuckles lightly before leading you to a very stocked bar. He barely has to lift a finger before the bartender comes over and greets him by name. He allows you to order first, and you can’t help but to cringe when he pulls out a black AmEx card to pay for the drinks. Your drinks come quickly, and you both look at each other for a long moment while trying to think up something to say.

“Are you-”

“Is this-” You laugh at choosing to speak at the same time he does.

“What were you going to say?” Duncan asks.

“I was going to ask if this is as awkward for you as it is for me?” Duncan grins and nods, sighing.

“Thank God, I thought it was just me. It’s a lot easier for me to talk to you when you’re not staring at me, you’re more…”

“Awkward?” You fill in jokingly, lifting your glass to your lips.

“I was going to say that you’re more beautiful in person than you are online, but awkward works too.” He smirks when you choke slightly on your drink, his statement gaining the desired effect from you.

“And you’re more cocky in person!” You fire back, hiding the smile on your face with another sip of your drink. He still manages to see it, eyes flashing triumphantly. “You know, I never thought we would actually meet. I always thought you’d just be my Twitter friend that I fight with sometimes.” You admit.

“I’ll admit that I was a little surprised to learn that you’d be here as well.”

“Good surprised or bad surprised?”

“Good, definitely a good surprised.” Duncan notices that you’ve finished your drink and takes the glass from your hand, placing both empty glasses on the bar behind him. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

“Do I now?” You raise your eyebrow, watching Duncan nod.

“I bought you a drink, it’s the least you can do.”

“I would, but I don’t know how to dance.” It’s true; the only dancing you’ve ever done was at high school dances, which usually involved jumping and stilted slow dancing.

“Don’t worry, I’m willing to teach you.”

“That desperate to get a dance with me?” You tease. Duncan simply smiles and shrugs.

“Are you going to let me?”

“Just don’t laugh at me for how bad it’ll be.” You concede. A chill goes up your spine when he grabs your hand, blushing almost immediately.

“I could never laugh at you.” There’s not much of a ‘dance floor,’ but people are managing to waltz around the room anyways. “Follow my lead, okay? You should be fine.”

“Should?” You question. Duncan deliberately ignores you, intertwining your hand in his and placing his other hand on your waist. Your free hand rests on his shoulder, and you glance down to try and follow his feet. It takes a little bit, but you eventually get the hang of it. When you’re finally able to dance without staring at the floor, you see Duncan smiling at you.

“What, is it that bad?”

“No, you’re a natural at this.” You end up dancing for much longer than you thought you would, the conversation with Duncan ranging from art to music to movies to pop culture. You’re so engrossed with learning more about each other that neither of you even thinks about bringing up politics. You have a lot more in common with the man in front of you than you had originally thought. You’ve also learned just how funny he is, able to keep you in stitches when he gets on a roll. The only reason you both eventually decide to call it a night is when Duncan gets a frantic phone call from his mother, something about a possible deal President Hale might be making.

“You know, for a Republican you’re really not that bad.” You tease as Duncan helps you into your coat. The cool night air hits you in the face, and you glance up at the near-full moon in awe. Duncan’s driver is taking a while to get the car, and your hand remains clasped with his while he waits with you for your ride.

“As far as liberals go, you’re okay when it doesn’t come to politics.” He retorts. “Would it be alright if we saw each other again?” He asks, breaking the brief, comfortable silence you both had been standing in.

“I don’t know, I’m actually talking to this one guy.” He looks mildly disappointed, but quickly hides it.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he follows me on Twitter and we DM quite a bit. A real asshole sometimes, but also very sweet. I was thinking of asking him on a date, but we’ll see.” You smirk when he rolls his eyes, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

“If you give me your number, I’ll make sure he gets it.” He moves closer to you, eyes wavering between your lips and your gaze.

“And, theoretically, if I did say yes to seeing you again?” You mutter, leaning in slightly.

“Then I would treat you the way you deserve. Theoretically, of course.”

“Of course.” You agree. Right before he goes to kiss you, you see your respective rides pull up. “Our rides are here.” You giggle when he groans, throwing his head back dramatically.

“Very smooth, snowflake.” He opens the door to your Uber and lets you get in, stopping right before he closes the door. “You didn’t give me your number!”

“DM me.” You wink before closing the door on him, blowing him a cheeky kiss before the car pulls away.

Tag List: @langdonslove @heda-mikaelson @khaleesimel @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon @sebastianshoe @let-me-try-mom @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @sammythankyou @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dolceandchalamet @uptosomeseriousfuckshit @dandycandy75 @alexcornerblog @blackandwhitejoker @everything-is-awesomesauce @tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning @ccodyfern

[beautifulfern]

Cordelia Taking A Pregnancy Test Prompt! Pretty Please THX 😘

This ended up being way longer than expected! Hopefully you like all of it, though.

warnings: blood, impregnation, unprotected sex

****************

This could still be a trick, Cordelia realized when Michael raised his knife. Could be an excuse to cut her throat or bind her with a spell she wouldn’t recognize until it was too late. He’d promised it wasn’t, and she wanted to believe him. But the fact remained: if he was luring her, he wouldn’t say. He’d just bait the hook, make her crawl to the water, and when she neared it–

“Delia, are you listening?”

She shook her head, less in answer than to clear the ugly thought. He’d had hundreds of opportunities to snare her before now. If he was going to do it, he wouldn’t have waited this long.

“I am.”

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[beautifulfern]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

[beautifulfern]

[beautifulfern]

This isn't a kink per se but those gifs reminded me of how absolutely beautiful Cody's nose is like...I just want to kiss it and do nose bumps and run my finger down the bridge of it. It's just a great nose ok.

Like this? I know bitch. His nose is so fucking cute I want to kiss it and you know, the kink half of me wants other things from it

[beautifulfern]

okay but… Cody Fern as Leon S Kennedy 

just sayin… 

[beautifulfern]

michael can always smell when youre fertile, its sweeter and heavier and he takes you the instant he smells that ovary pop an egg out just for him.

I’m glad we all agree Michael has a fat impregnation kink. I imagine if he’s working and you’re sitting in the room with him, he’d be get so distracted by you being there ugh, he would never tell you to leave though. When you’re ovulating? God he cant resist. He’d pump you full of his cum all day until you pass out

[beautifulfern]

Repentance (Michael Langdon X Reader)

y’all better believe me when i say, writing this fic kicked my fucking ass. holy shit. i really hope y’all like it tho !! i haven’t been this excited about an idea in a while. i didn’t proofread this tooooo hard, so i’m sorry if there are any mistakes!! 

plot: you’re a sinner. luckily for you, michael langdon is willing to help you repent.

warnings: priest!AU, fem!reader, BLASPHEMY, i mean really lmao u deadass fuck a priest in a church, dirty talk, religious talk, female & male masturbation, exhibitionism, degradation, boot licking, cum play, spanking, fingering, blowjobs/facefucking, cunnilingus, rough sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting 

word count: 7.8k 

tagging some people i think might be interested: @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsrapture @duncvn @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @langdonsinferno @americanhorrorstudies @xtheinevitableprophecyx @tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning

Keep reading

[beautifulfern]

Imagine watching a horror film and Michael puts away his glass of water, watches ur face as it’s in horror and chuckles. You felt 2 large arms draw you backwards and he pulls you in for a hug while you hide your face in his chest. He kisses your hair”Aw is My little baby scared?” ”No need for that baby, nothing’ll harm you as long as I’m here”-MichaelsAnon

Aww!! 

You’re terrified even after he reassures you. When you go to bed, you’re wide awake, listening for every little noise in the house. Feeling this sense of dread and terror that you can’t shake as you lay there in the dark. You know it’s just a movie, but horror movies have always creeped you out and you only tolerate them because Michael likes them. So you’re lying there with your face buried in Michael’s chest, his arms wrapped around you, but he hasn’t fallen asleep because he knows you’re not asleep. 

“What is it?” he whispers. His eyes aren’t even open, but reflexively he tightens his hold on you. 

“I thought I heard something.”

“It’s nothing,” Michael assures. “And even if there was something here with us, we both know I’m the scariest thing in this house.” 

[beautifulfern]

literally the only thing keeping me going

[beautifulfern]

HE SO CUTE

[beautifulfern]

wtf this almost made me wanna get pregnant !!! woah

A potentially Pregnant Cordelia Fic? Please!

This turned out to be more of a fantasy situation; hope that’s ok! (tagging @ritualmichael and @noxaeternum since y’all asked!)

warnings: impregnation fantasy, lactation kink, unprotected sex, mild angst

************

There was no real harm in letting him do it. She knew everywhere Michael’s cock had been. He’d been pitifully untouched before asking her for sanctuary. There was no history to contend with, no string of others to worry over the habits of. Besides, she couldn’t conceive, anyway.

“Are you sure about that?”

Keep reading

[beautifulfern]

I’m working on three different fics (eh they’re gonna be short oops)! and I’m struggling so it might be a while??

Anyway, these are the fic ideas I’m working on:

Come away with me:

AU where (maybe witch?? We will see im bad about accidentally making Mary Sues so idk) Y/N takes Michael in before he becomes big bad devil boy, fluff and kinky smut happen. Hopefully multi chapter or at least connected one shots.

I won’t tell them that you’re sweet:

Hawthorne!michael, soft sub michael getting embarrassed about being a sub and having a mommy kink, and worried when you visit him at Hawthorne that you’re gonna tell his friends. He’s the powerful boy wonder around there and doesn’t wanna show his sweet side.

And a blurb about virgin michael,,, we will see where it goes hmm

[beautifulfern]

ok but just imagine sub!michael's mommy rimming him, wow that's powerful

“turn around, mikey.”

you watched michael lick at his plump lips, nuzzling into your palm as it pressed to his rosy, flushed cheek. he shifted on the mattress, slowly turning over on his tummy, so pliant and timid and eager to obey.

hooking your fingertips into the waistband of his pants, you began to pull them down over the perky curve of his ass, biting the inside of your cheek at the way he shuttered when the air hit his exposed skin.

“good boy, michael. mommy’s pretty boy.” you murmured, splaying your palms over the supple mounds of flesh. you kneaded them gently before spreading him apart with your thumbs, hearing michael preen at the praise like a lovesick puppy, hips swaying slightly with anticipation.

you leaned forward, blowing cool air against his hole, pink and pretty and clenching around nothing. not a moment after was wasted before you were licking a slow, flat stripe up the expanse of his heat. michael let out a long, high-pitched moan, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, watching you begin to lap at him languidly, face buried between his cheeks.

“mama…” he purred, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, arching his back and pushing his ass back against your mouth each time your tongue fucked inside him, massaging his walls and thrusting in in time with the slow rocking of his hips.

you couldn’t help but moan at his desperation, working himself back on your tongue, chasing the pleasure. you reach in between his legs to wrap your fingers around his cock—hard and pulsing and dribbling with precum, soaking the sheets underneath.

michael gasped once you began stroking him to the quick, erratic swipes of your tongue, your eyes flickering up to see his lips parted, chin wet from the drool spilling around the corners, eyebrows knitted together as the pleasurable warmth coiled in his belly.

you knew he was close— he never lasted long in this headspace and you could already feel him twitch in your tight grip.

“mommy… feels so-wanna cum mommy, please!” he cried between heavy pants, head falling onto the pillow while choked sobs ripped from his chest.

the quick, flicking motions of your tongue faultered but the jerking twists of your wrist around his length grew more rapid, unrelenting and deliberate as your lips pulled away from his hole, taking an opportunity to breathe before connecting your eyes with his own.

“that’s it, baby boy, make a mess all over mommy’s hand.”

tagging some babes i think might enjoy this:

@icylangdon @duncvn @ritualmichael @sojournmichael @langdonsinferno @michael-langdon-appreciation @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @queencocoakimmie @cocosfern

[beautifulfern]

All this talk of cockwarming going on everywhere just makes me imagine cockwarming Michael during his interviews at the outpost. He has excellent self control, and he can just sit there for hours, completely unfazed. Everyone who comes in nearly has a stroke over it, but Michael just gives them a /look/. Occasionally he'll thrust into you a little, making you whimper, but otherwise it's like nothing is happening. You're absolutely desperate by the time he finishes, but he's calm and collected.

So, the question is….. Are you wearing a skirt that is fanned out over his lap? Or….Is this massively obvious?

Either way, he does these things you love, how he knows your body responds. He’s absorbing your energy, your mood to help him in his interviews. He enjoys showing you off, proud of you, of your relationship. He kisses your neck and combs a hand through your hair.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” He asks a gray that has eyed you. You can only smirk and nuzzle his palm. It’s a mutual shared possession, a kink to make others envious or uncomfortable.

You’re a sucker for his hands, this he knows. So during each interview, he talks with them, uses them, picks things up, taps his face, strokes your neck and back. He’s got you so pent up by the time it’s over that he lays you back against the desk, pushing his pants down, letting you claw at him, grip his ass. Everyone can hear you, but you don’t care.

[beautifulfern]

What would the ideal kiss with Michael be like? Describe...😍

an Australian kiss… which is a French kiss but down under ;)

[beautifulfern]

ok but soft Michael in the bath, (a bubble bath obviously) and his significant other is in the bath too bathing him, washing his long hair and then washed further down, slowly wrapping their hand around Michael’s cock. He starts to moan in their ear, and they continue it until the water starts to get chill. Then when they both get up to turn the shower on and rinse the bubbles off, his significant other tells him to put his hands against the wall, and they start jerking him off again and rim him

You know what? I’m just going to say it. This fandom needs more rimming.

SORRY NOT SORRY.

It’s their first time doing anything like that to Michael; he can’t figure out their intention at first, but as soon as they start going at it in earnest, Michael absolutely loses it.

He just shakes and swears and collapses, weak kneed against the shower wall, panting harshly.

His partner gives him a cheeky grin as they turn him around; his hair is wild all around his face and his mouth is hanging open and his eyes are dark wide.

“Like that?” they ask.

Michael has NO words.