cherriedlusts - Tumblr blog

[cherriedlusts]

♡ ˙ ˖ —  ooc; ya gurl has been busy going on dates, working + doing assessment centres. hopefully will be on tomorrow night to reply to IMs and discord msgs! miss u all x 

[cherriedlusts]

 closed starter for @aconites​​​ ♥ ˎˊ˗

he places bloodied brass knuckles into loyal, waiting hands. the bruised man before him is hauled away to be dealt with later in the early hours of the morning. theo dismisses his men, finishing business for the night. he stands before floor to ceiling windows, gazing down at the dancefloor levels below. it’s contained pandemonium — his realm of pleasure && sin. all neon, sleek && luxurious; one of the most exclusive clubs in the city. his gaze brushes over trust fund babies, girls stuffing capsules into clutches, boys making bets. people too high or drunk to care — moving as one in the hedonistic crowd. 

and then he sees her—  

a pretty girl dancing. catching flashes of her visage, a princess in neon. easily standing out from the crowd. and something about her draws him in like moth to a flame. 

so he watches as she dances. watches to see if she came with a companion competition. and when he decides to make his move, he descends levels and makes his way through the crowd. and just his luck — eager group of party boys brashly make their way across the packed dancefloor, heedless of anyone in their path, sending theo’s towering form crashing right into the pretty girl. he reaches his hands out to steady her, afraid of knocking her over. “are you okay?” he asks, voice velvety dark, concern etches his brows. “sorry about that.” 

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habibi - tamino

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nothing about this is soft but we pretend.

— Cara Neel, from “Bukowski,” published in Vagabond City

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All I want right now is to kiss his entire body. Like, from his hips, to his stomach, to his chest, trailing up to his collarbones, then to his neck. Just hearing him whimper the entire time. Leaving soft pale pink and purple hickies along his torso, and everytime I see them, I know he’s mine. Watching him bite his bottom lip, his head back, and pure ecstasy in every moan he lets escape from his mouth. Feeling him beneath me, trying to desperately grind himself against me, each movement becoming more and more obvious until he’s practically bucking his hips against me. Finally kissing his lips, and feeling him pull me closer. His hand holding the side of my face as I run my hands along his body again. He shudders at certain spots, and I let my hand linger, enjoying the fact that I know he wants me more than anything right now…

[cherriedlusts]

[cherriedlusts]

violent love parts 1, 2, and 3

“black iris” leah raeder // @normal-horoscopes // margarita karapanou “rien ne va plus” // damien hirst // yves olade “belovéd” // “every single night” fiona apple // “untitled” fortesa latifi // @overalls franz kafka // forugh farrokhzad, tr. by sholeh wolpé “let us believe in the dawn of the cold season” // venetta octavia “i set it in stone” // “the gun song” car seat headrest // damien hirst // leslie jamison “the recovering: intoxication and its aftermath” // @normal-horoscopes // catherynne m. valente

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Yves Olade, from When Rome Falls; Bloodsport, 2017

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lcvesdeath​:

FAMILIARITY, EXCITEMENT, LOVE … it all curls within her core, a provocation of barely-tamed emotions eliciting the monstrous voices in her head. telling her to join her former lover in wicked schemes. nonetheless, maintains a rather unimpressed disposition as aiden’s magic pulses across the air, and he attempts to reel her in with words he knows she has been dying for. there’s a minute lift to one corner of her mouth, a terrible half-smirk. smoldering gaze crawls down his frame, bloodied and rumpled, taking him in. then, a callous response, “oh please. if i did fuck you, you wouldn’t enjoy it.”

she’s promising torture; long bouts of submission, him bowing to her will and her knife. the very thought of it stirs her so much that her gaze clouds for a moment, focus only returning at the sounds of wailing. bloody tears roll down, staining silvia’s hand. silvia’s features crinkle with disgust, attention ripped away from aiden.

“are you crying on me?”

this should’ve been the most satisfying confrontation for her, and yet, it’s all so rushed. murder, horcrux, aiden. she’d had a plan to keep everything meticulously sorted – but emotion takes over. georgina doesn’t even deserve to breathe in the same space as her and aiden, and so an already deeply tarnished blade plunges into georgina’s backside, beneath the bones of her shoulder blades. indifference continues sweeping across silvia’s features; just another casual evening of her getting what she fucking wanted. and then, lithe hand comes around with the blade, plunging it straight into georgina’s chest next, feeling her spasm in pain whilst choking on what little breaths she had left. when silvia finally rips the dagger out, georgina’s thrown to the floor and tossed away like the afterthought she is. there’s only a short moment of time to savor the kill, however.

the next target – a curse in the flesh.

relief did not find her. she has to kill aiden, before he can destroy her. ( remember your purpose, sil. ) her purpose was glory and power. with insignificant underlings kissing at her feet, acknowledging her as the dark lord they all needed. aiden never truly believed in her ambitions, anyway. so why would she ever need him?

yet, when fists curl into his splayed open shirt, and she’s pushing him back, back, until he’s pinned up against a bookshelf … her heart won’t stop badly fluttering. she’s never been a stoic individual, and that was especially the case in his presence. nevertheless, hand whips up and presses the tip of crimson-drenched blade to his chin. and he’s already a glorious mess, chest dripping red with her name. “your turn,” silvia threatens lowly, chest heaving as her pulse wildly flares. but then she’s gazing into ocean blue eyes so familiar, and it’s gut-wrenching that who she sees staring back at her was actually the younger aiden – the boy who took her hand and walked with her through rose gardens, and swore his love even before they turned into this.

suddenly, it’s hard for her to breathe again.

“so it’s really … it’s really you?”

everything shatters. her voice. her murderous intent.

a sheen of moisture washes over deeply wounded brown eyes.

“i-it’s you?”

and he’s no longer hers, but she would die to hear him say ‘i love you’ one last time.

deep breaths. anger. she will lean into anger when there is nothing else left. her head shakes slowly, rage returning to those pretty browns. and maybe it’s unsteady, uneasy, but she manages to threaten with a dangerous little smile, “we’re still at war, orlov. nothing’s changed. and you will lose.”

the body is a battle ground. 

he knows what she means. a bloodsport. a bloodletting ( purging him of thoughts of another, a declaration of loyalty ). 

what happens next does not take him by surprise. the nonchalant splitting of skin, silver darkening further. it’s beautiful — the brutal elegance in silvia’s actions. he can only look at her with twisted adoration. sparing no thought for the crumpled form at their feet. what does take him by surprise, however, is realising what ritual this killing is becoming a part of. 

oh.  

his beloved is full of surprises. he hopes she succeeds — hopes she gets what she wants. for he can almost feel it. the taint on her heart, radiating his own dark magical signature. but before he can really think of its implications, she has him backing up against the bookshelf. 

despite him towering before her, he feels like he’s on his knees before her. “it really is me, sil.” heart breaks again and again at the tears in her eyes. it comes crashing down — all the despicable things he had done and said to her under the spell’s grasp. all the ways he had hurt her. he finds it hard to breath for a moment, self-loathing almost suffocating, but aiden manages to pull himself together ( threads fraying, pieces barely linking together ). “my darling...” looks at her like he’s seeing her for the first time after years apart. he wouldn’t admit it, but his eyes sting with guilt && regret. 

what does this mean for them? he’s not so naive to believe that things would go back to the way they were, but he couldn’t entertain the thought of being parted for her. refuses to. he would do anything to have her back. even if it means cutting himself on her blade again. even if it means becoming her prometheus, tormented in chains. 

desperation edges in when aiden sees her shaking her head. but he understands. rage is comforting. rage is dependable. rage will never betray you. it is to them as breathing is — when nothing else is left, there is always rage. 

“stop,” he tells her, ignoring her threat. “stop it.” he can’t bear this. the way she looks at him — so wounded yet so ready to leave him behind enemy lines. “don’t be like this, sil. whatever happened, it wasn’t me. we can talk about it.” there’s no pretences, no masks. and he attempts rationality for once. but is it too late? “we are not at war. tell me how we can be at war when i love you and will move heaven && earth for you.” feels blood dripping down his chest; silvia a raw, bloodied declaration on his chest. presses close to her, doesn’t mind the way the blade threatens to cut into him again. “fuck, i’m in love with you.”

he feels her slipping from his fingers. “it has only ever been you, this you must know.” and he’s referring to those days in their childhood. the way he looked at her even back then. the way he would loathe other boys who competed for her affection. the way only she understood him and truly saw him for who he was. 

lifts a trembling hand to her heart. doesn’t dare sully her with his touch, so his hand hovers an inch above. “i can feel it. it’s insidious...” it nearly breaks him to know he almost killed her. all because of a girl who wanted to play queen. if georgina didn’t lay bleeding, aiden would have gladly shown her death. “i will fix this.” doesn’t care if the horcrux works, he wants to erase all evidence of the harm he caused her. “let me fix this, sil. i won’t lose you.” 

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he had become complacent. too lenient. sebastian scrambled out of the room, the shock of her sudden action still ringing in his mind. two years. he thought they were beyond this by now. how dare she refuse him after all he had done for them. anger ran hot in his veins. he expected to see a door wide open, her fading silhouette in the doorway ( but she wouldn’t be able to get far, he made sure of that ). yet... there she stood, door closed. “mad is an understatement, avery.” he reached behind her to lock the door. “promises mean nothing when you clearly show me that you cannot be trusted after all this time... what were you thinking, hmm? that you could have a life without me? have a home without me?” he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into the dreaded playroom. “who could love you more than me?” whether it truly be love or obsession, the lines are too finely blurred. he coveted her the moment he laid eyes on her. “now go get your collar and the spreader bar.” he began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “i want you to show me that you can be good.”

♡ WANTED PLOT:  stockholm syndrome au

avery had a chance to leave– her freedom was finally achievable after being held captive for how long– a year? two? who knows at this point. it had been time for her daily bath, the only time she was free to be without her chains around her ankles. the young girl finally got the courage to push him off with every weight that she could muster, managing to get him down on his ass that gave her just enough to time to bolt out of the room, and out towards the front door. however, the second her foot stepped out she suddenly she froze. she forced herself to leave, to take a step forward and finally escape this hell but she couldn’t. her hands shook as the grip on the door frame tightened. tears formed in her eyes as she slowly stepped back into the house and closed the door before pressing her back against it. it didn’t take long until he saw her, anger visible on his face. “okay.. i know you’re mad and i’m sorry for trying to escape… i-i stayed though.. doesn’t that count for something?’ she asked, clearly afraid of what he’ll do to her. “please don’t lock me up again.. i promise i’ll be good!”

[cherriedlusts]

[cherriedlusts]

closed starter for @kiissme​​, ft. keith && giselle 🎁 

giselle checks her reflection in heart-shaped compact mirror — a study of wavy hair && glossy pink lips, making sure her eyeliner hadn’t smudged. snaps mirror shut and places it back into her purse. undoes the buttons of her thin jacket, revealing dusty pink dress beneath, ruched && form fitting, hiding the little black ensemble beneath. she takes a deep breath, butterflies in her stomach already. spent the day waiting for this moment, hoping he doesn’t mind her showing up unannounced like this, despite knowing the party ended && there should be no one but him inside. presses the doorbell, refraining from biting her bottom lip in an attempt to keep gloss intact. and when the door opens — 

can’t stop the big smile from spreading across her lips. “surprise!!” lifts up the gift bag with cursive ‘happy birthday’ emblazoned across. “happy birthday darling,” she greets, stepping closer to him in her strappy heels. “hope you have space for one more slice of cake.” 

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jennifer’s body (2009)

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[cherriedlusts]

♡ ˙ ˖ — activity update!! as you may have noticed, i’ve been absent on the dash as i was busy with grad applications and lots of interviews (most likely will be offered a position soon!!). i start exams next week, so i’ll be active after the 27th of may. meanwhile, you can find me in the IMs or discord if you’d like to chat! ♡

[cherriedlusts]