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#and I find myself with a bit more time than I recently had
rovingwren · 8 months
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I love how, in one of my library books (350+ Crochet Tips, Techniques, and Trade Secrets), one of the large tip sections is "Not happy with the colors/fibers of yarn available? Dye your own!" Like they're not casually casting an already pressed-for-time crafter down a wild spiral
But also, their points are valid 🤔
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calyptramoths · 2 months
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update i am considering a loose peskitarian diet
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daintcas · 6 months
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breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !
your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.
'Where are you'
'Answer me.'
'I'm coming to your house'
'We're going to talk about this'
swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.
he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.
everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.
the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.
his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.
"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.
"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.
he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."
"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.
"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.
"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.
as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.
"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.
it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."
the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."
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screampied · 5 months
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i’m obsessed with ur fics and want to live inside your pretty little brain, you just write jjk characters so well 🫠
recently i’ve been thinking about choso having a bad day or something and just wanting to be taken care of, so now you’re nursing him while you jerk him off and he’s a whiny moaning mess and it’s so cute and when he thinks you’re done with him you get on top and ride him and he’s begging you to stop bc he can’t take anymore pleasure :( like i’m sick over this i need him so bad
❤︎ ໋𓈒 pleasing choso after a long day.
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warnings. fem! reader, overstim, jerking choso off, pampering choso bc he deserves it, whiney choso, cowgirl, creampıe, praise, mdni + thank u sm !!!
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“. . please,” choso would murmur in a frail weak tone, he sounded so drowsy, so needy. he’s barely through the door before he wraps his strong bulky arms around you. you giggle, being squished between his warmth before he buries his face into your neck. he gently runs his tongue against your collarbone before continuing to speak in muffled sentences. “missed you so bad. had a long day ‘n just need to . . need to unwind.”
you smile, stroking his back lovingly. “aw, bad day today, ‘cho?” you’d sweetly reply, feeling him shudder from your touch alone. despite you being so gentle, he was always so incredibly weak around you, including a simple few electric touches from you. “of course baby, i’ll help you.”
“can….you help me um,” and he’s struggling to get the words out. the two of you were finally secluded together in the large spacey bedroom. choso’s laid back, shirtless and heavy heaving breaths depart from his lips every few seconds. the more you stare at him the more he finds it hard to swallow the growing lump in his throat. “can you do the thing? like last time?”
you giggle, glancing at the poking tent in his boxers. “a handjob, baby?”
“…handjob,” he repeats, his eyes softening before a mere whine escapes from his throat. “oh … yeah, that. please,” and his lungs felt so clouded. with a hand running through his hair, he sighs cutely. “yes p-please. i wanna handjob. i’d do it myself but you always do it better, p-princess.”
choso was so cute, the way he was basically putty underneath your hands..
his words always trembled, he wanted you more than anything. he was always like this whenever he came home, so needy each and everytime for nothing more than your simple addicting touch.
“okay,” you’d comply, just a single word that pours from your lips alone was so seductive to him. he could listen to your voice all day. it was his own type of harmony, a song he’d love to listen to every day on repeat if he could.
your voice.
you reach beside him near the black short nightstand, grabbing a lube bottle before making sure to not waste any time.
you could tell by choso’s dilated pupils and his irregular rapid pants that he was growing more and more impatient as the time passed.
“wanna feel you s-so bad,” he whimpers, tensing a little from the way your hand springs out his length, lubricating around his pulsating cock.
you always made sure to be thorough— slicking every inch of him down with the liquid, starting from his swollen tip, then down towards his shaft, then his base. of course, his balls too. whenever you fondled with his fat puffy balls, choso would make such the cutest whines imaginable. “f-fuck, m-more. hurry, princess.”
“baby, don’t rush me,” you tease, sitting right beside him before pressing a sweltering hot kiss against his temple. he whimpers at your touch yet again, the softness of your lips having him in utter shambles. you made sure to have your dominant hand pay close attention towards the head of his dick, the most neglected sensitive spot. he inhales then exhales, gnawing at his lip before dark eyes of his stares up at the idle ceiling fan. “mhm. you’re so pent up, must have had a really rough day, hm?”
“so h-horrible,” he pouts, despite his voice being naturally deep and a bit gruff, the delivery of how whiney he was was just so cute. “i’m just glad i always come home to you. y-you always know how to make me feel better.”
you simper, your hand finally fully wrapping around his base before you start to give him a few solid pumps.
he moans, thickly swallowing the remnants of sweet syrupy spit that remain all in his mouth.
so so good..
you drove him crazy in the right ways possible. choso felt a sudden ringing sensation rigorously vibrate throughout his ears. he felt hot all over, radiating with a staggering high temperature of scorching boiling heat.
the tempo you had with jerking him off was a decent pace at first, gradually fisting his cock with each concise stroke—you occasionally glance up at choso who’s panting up a storm. “. . . . ugh,” he mewls out through gritted teeth, a hand of his own attempting to grab towards yours. “i wanna touch you t-too.”
“no choso,” you sneer, moving his hand away.
oh, the pout that suddenly spreads across his lips was so cute.
he’s giving you puppy dog eyes as if he’s questioning you a perplexed little, ‘huh?’ whilst you’re still stroking him at such a quickening pace, you make sure he keeps his hands to himself. “you wanted me to touch you, not choso, ‘kay? let me do everything, be a good boy for me.”
“i-i’m sorry, sorry,” he mutters in short breaths, finding your tone to be so hot. the twitch he feels in his dick only gets him more aroused. for a split second, you feel a vein that ran down the middle of his shaft pulse against your palm. “you’re right. ‘m gonna let you please me. gonna be a good boy ‘n keep my hands to m-myself.”
you peck a kiss against his hot cheek. “so good for me.”
“p-praise me more, please.” he whines.
“choso,” you giggle, and he was more needier than usual today. his voice grew a bit more high the faster you stroke him—his beefy thigh starts to bounce and bounce before he’s leaning back in pleasure. “you want more praises?”
he nods. “i- i do, your voice ‘s so hot, so s-sexy,” and his breathing abruptly hitches once you give him a sly smile. “not the right word, that was inappropriate— i- i mean, attractive. your voice when you praise me ‘s so attractive, i want more.”
the way he corrects himself from his choice of words was adorable.
whenever you gave choso a handy though, he’d never really last long regardless. choso would usually only last a few good minutes, especially with your hand work, your techniques.. he was simply no match.
“i’ll praise you all day, baby,” you whisper, watching as he’s feeling himself get close. he’s so desperate to touch you. he wants to, to stroke himself with you, wrap his big hand against yours. choso bites his lip in anticipation— feeling how he’s steadily losing composure. immensely, he starts to feel his throat grow dry, the air felt richly thick and he starts to get more and more vocal. “close?”
“uh huh, uh huuh,” he nods, pretty long lashes of his squeezing shut. choso’s about to fall into that trance again, your speed had him losing his mind. in his mouth, he starts to salivate. you’re so steady and precise with your beats and pumps against his cock that he’s about to spiral completely. “princess, ‘m gonna make a mess. you’re gonna make me m-messy again.”
“be messy for me then,” you invigorate to him against his ear, playfully licking a stripe near the soft outer shell of his lobe. he shivers at that, so sensitive. again, if it was anything that could be considered as choso kamo’s weakness— it was your voice. “give it to me, c’mon ‘cho.”
he’s so hard, his dick was all slick and wet from the translucent colored lube running down the sides of his hefty shaft.
a shaky breath snatches out of choso’s mouth before his abs tense up.
a hand goes through his hair before he feels the pressure finally hit him. “shit, s-shitttt,” he whines, feeling the area of his frenulum pulse and pulse. he’s seeing pure splotches of white— once his climax comes, it takes merely everything out of him. static shoots out from his ears and he lets off a cute shriek. “a-ah.”
you stare at the mess he’d just paint on himself. a few spurts of his own sticky cum shoots against his tummy, right near his lower abdomen. choso’s eyebrows significantly lower before he lets off a cute, “phew..”
“want more?” you coo, unraveling your hand around his dick before staring at him— he returns your gaze with half-lidded dark eyes.
he nods, panting off a sweet desperate. “yes please.”
choso figured you were gonna stroke him off again, but his eyes briefly widen once you end up up making your way onto his lap. straddling him in such a lewdly titillating way, he gulps. the ringing throughout his ears reverberates louder before you align yourself against the wet tip of his cock.
he was so aroused, so needy, so in love..
being a half curse spirit— he’s never got to fully experience types of pleasure like this.
albeit, he was always grateful to you for being able to show him everything he was missing out on though. with his bottom lip quivering, he gasps once he feels you slowly sinking down onto his length, feeling the warm pool of heat introduce itself to his cock that’s gradually splitting you open.
“oh…..fuck,” he’d groan, and at this particular point, his voice grows a raspy low. hooded eyes stare at you, studying your every move. from fixating his pupils on your hips, your chest, and even your face— he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “y-you’re gonna ride me?”
“yes baby,” you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a deep sensual kiss. he’s panting, each breath feels like it’s gonna be its last with you. warm tongues tangle and tango amongst each other before you briefly suck on his. a whine pulls from his throat before he feels your hips start to jerk.
abruptly, choso pulls away, whimpering a sweet. “can— can i touch you now at least? please. f-fuck, can’t take it anymore princess.”
“touch me however you’d like, pretty boy,” you’d speak in a hushed tone, licking another long strike against his neck. he was so sensitive, his eyes were practically about to roll all the way back by this point. you’re easing your sloppy cunt down onto his length and his roughly textured hands grab against your hips. choso then spanks your ass, only to give it a mean squeeze afterward just to see you gasp. “like touching me, huh?”
“y-you know i do,” he pouts, feeling the deep stretch. it was so so good— mouth watering, a perfect way to describe his mouth at the feeling of your pussy taking him in in such a sloppy, erotic way. already, you were a bit soaked from earlier, coating his base with a candied gossamer ring of your slick arousal. “my god, my g-goddd.” he throws his head back once you start to move against him.
a few solid rhythmic thrusts and choso kamo was done for.
he stuffs you full of inches, you lean up close to his face to plant your lips against the bridge of his nose— softly smooching against the area where his darkened scar remained. pink wet lips of his quaver from that simple action and his grip against your hips only tightens.
clammy, sweaty hands guide your hips to fuck against him harder before his head leans back. “fuck me, f-fuck me, jus’ fuck me pleaseeee. can’t c-cum, don’t think i can come anymore.”
choso becomes more whiny, his voice starting to strain overtime and you feel your stomach briefly seizing from how deep he’s hitting you.
relentlessly, you’re moving against him so good that not even he can keep up with you. your pussy’s the perfect match for him, fitting nice and snug like a lock fits inside a key.
oh, but the grip..
the grip of your sopping wet cunt against his dick was so appetizing, he only wanted more. more more more, the squelching noises had him feral and by now, with a tight enough grip he’s helping you slam down against his lap. “hah, can’t . . ‘m not gonna cum again, baby, f-fuck. fuck me so good, i—i love you, love you ‘s much.”
“i love you too baby,” you moan yourself, pulling him back into a steamy kiss. his sweetened whines and whimpers pour right into your mouth, ravened strands of his hair sticking against his forehead like glue. choso was drenched in sweat, perspiring such amounts that it makes his skin glisten entirely. “yes you can,” you hum between sultry breaths, coating his entire face with your kisses. you watch as his eyebrows arch and he squeezes against your ass just a bit tighter. he loves the recoil— spanking your ass just to witness and see the jiggle, it had his dick twitching even more. “you can give me one more, know you can, baby.”
“f-fuck, you’re gonna make a mess outta me,” he whimpers. the way you grind against him has him going feral by the second. hot deep breaths wretch from his throat before his head goes back. he leans all the way back, washboard abs flexing and curling up. with a single finger of yours running down his sharp chiseled v-line, he nearly loses it. your touch, his ultimate weakness. “gonna c-cum again, ‘m gonna flood your pussy again, oh fuuuuck.”
with your arms still lazily thrown around him, choso hugs you tightly, pumping further into your gummy walls that clamp him down oh so good before he ends up cumming again. this time, inside. it’s so hot from the inside—your pussy was all toasty, balmy from every crevice of your walls and the addictive hold it has on him. he shoots a long thick rope into you, it comes out into satiny spurts, filling you up to the very brim.
choso’s reaction was so cute, he’s literally speechless, yet his grip against your ass doesn’t even lessen. his face was practically covered with strands of his hair, half lidded eyes and a pussy drunken smile curling against his thin crimson red lips. “i— oh my,” he hiccups, catching his breath for a moment. the entirety of his body felt a plethora of emotions— hot, cold, warm, all of it. for a moment, his eyes meet your gaze before he swallows, reaching down, swirling two fingers against your sloppy cunt. you moan, feeling him gather up a good amount of his own cum that oozes out of your hole before bringing it toward his lips. choso pops his fingers into his mouth, getting a good taste and he moans, still feeling himself deeply buried into your sweet cunt.
so filthy, tasting himself like that with no shame..
“taste okay?” you puff out, watching as he’s got his two digits stuffed all in his mouth. with a cute nod, he pulls you closer towards his broad chest before you slowly pull his fingers out his mouth. “good, because ‘m not done with you yet, baby. wanna see if you can give me one more. can you be a good boy ‘n do that for me?”
“i- i’ll be your good boy,” he pouts, moaning harmonically once your hips start to make haste, picking up again. “wanna be so good for you. promise i’ll give you one more. f-fuck, i love you.”
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maximumzombiecreator · 2 months
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I've seen a lot of posts recently where people say they can't find players to play non-5e TTRPGs with. As someone who moves countries every few years, I've had to rebuild my roster of local TTRPG players from scratch a number of times. Here's how I do it.
Caveats first: while I've done this in small cities, I have always done it in cities. If you're in, like, a rural environment, you might just not have enough interested people around. You can always do it online in that case. I'm not really going to cover finding players online, except to say you should probably look for communities for the specific system you want to play. Most of them are enthusiastically looking for new participants. Especially game masters.
Okay, first things first, you gotta find people. I generally find I get better results if the search is location first. That is, rather than using city-wide or regional Looking For Group type internet groups, I look for physical locations that host gaming groups. Local game stores, public libraries, gaming cafes/bars, etc.
Being location first helps avoid some common bad behaviours. Online LFG groups often have a few shitty people hanging around who can't find long term groups because they're shitty. They'll jump at the opportunity to join new groups where people don't know them, because everyone else knows better than to game with them. But location-based groups are better at filtering this. Someone who harasses people at an LGS can be banned from the store, but decentralized online groups struggle to handle these situations in my personal experience.
Being location first also solves the next problem, which is giving you a location to play. Eventually, when I have a long term group, I'll host games in my home. But there needs to be a level of trust before that feels safe, and we're looking for randoms, so for now we need a public gaming venue. If, for whatever reason, there aren't dedicated gaming spaces where you can do this, I've had the most success gaming in cafes or restaurants during off peak hours. I've run a bunch of games in restaurants from, like, 2pm-5pm on a Saturday, and as long as you're buying drinks and some snacks or something, and being polite and non-disruptive, it's typically not too hard to get permission.
Now, if that local group has enough interest in a non-5e system that I'm interested in running, I'll happily do that, and it's pretty free from there. Most people who are willing to play one other system will gladly try others if they find they like playing with you. But even in big cities, I feel it's pretty often the case that postings for local games of other systems don't wind up actually finding successful groups.
So, here is the bit where, unfortunately, finding people to play non-5e games with involves playing some 5e. Community groups are always looking for more GMs to run games, so I will set out to run a number of short 5e adventures, each with different groups. These are typically oneshots that I have the option of extending for another 1 or 2 sessions.
I always run adventures that I've written myself for these, because I want my particular GMing style to really come through. Looking for players is a two way street. I'm looking for people I like GMing for, but I'm also looking to make sure they know what they're getting. Especially if I'm going to ask them to play a system they've never tried, they should know that there's going to be something they enjoy. So, these short adventures are full of the types of silly but sincere NPCs I tend to run, the open-ended scenarios I prefer, the tropes I favour, etc. If someone isn't going to enjoy playing with me, I want them to know it from this adventure.
I structure the adventures to give me a lot of flexibility in terms of how long they run. They're nearly always mysteries, but with some active component to the mystery, so that if things drag or dawdle I can have the villain show up and force a final confrontation. They're also structured to have a natural "next thing." You find and defeat the villain, but there's an implied next villain you'll be going after. That way, if the group is working well and I want to continue, it's easy to present the option to the group. But if I'm not interested in continuing with the group, the next thing can just serve as an "and the adventures continue" implied epilogue, and the game still feels complete.
I don't like players just bringing their own character sheet to the table. Someone who brings a disruptive character can ruin a session without me getting much useful information out of it, other than that I don't want to play with that person. And if it ruins the experience for the other players, I'm often out the opportunity to game with those people, through neither of our faults. I've experimented with both asking players to submit their characters in advance or making them choose between a collection of premade characters. The former is a good check for whether people will put in a basic amount of effort and follow instructions, but it can dissuade people who are just looking to dip their toes into playing for the first time. The latter can turn off players who are into crunchy games and are excited about character building. As a result, I'll usually choose the approach based on what non-5e system I'm currently most excited about running. Do I want to get together a group for a rules-light game? Premade characters it is. Looking to run some PF2e? Please submit your character sheet in advance. Some locations also do more drop-in based games, in which case it's premades all day.
As I'm running the game, I'm observing the players. There's a simple vibe check, obviously. Do I like playing with this person? But I'm also looking at how they play. What are they here for, what's exciting them? Are they struggling with finding optimal turns in combat, or do they like mastering a system? Are they curious about the world, or do they glaze over when the spotlight isn't on them? Do they light up in dialogue scenes? Do they want to try crazy things outside of their on-sheet abilities? Remember, later, I'm going to try to persuade this person to try to play a game they've never played before. I need to know what specifically is going to excite them.
I have (always with permission) recorded sessions before to go over in making these choices, but honestly even just a few small reminder notes will help me unravel things later. If a session goes well, I'll ask at the end for people to give me their contact information if they'd be interested in playing again. Non-committal, at their comfort, and it doesn't single out people that I don't want to play with. I can always just not call them. Usually I find I'm interested in playing again with a little more than half of the players I meet this way. In my experience, it's fairly rare for a player to say they're not interested in playing again, TTRPGs rule and there's a DM shortage.
What I usually do is keep running these until I have enough people in mind to run something else, even if it isn't the system I'm most excited about. Probably it would be better to spend more time in this starter phase building up more connections, but after running like 4-5 5e adventures, I'm usually more than ready to run anything else, and if I have to shelve my Lancer ideas because I've mostly found crunch-averse players, I'm usually fine with that.
So, next comes the invites. Now, most players I meet this way will eventually be open to playing most games, but listen: you can put people well out of their comfort zone for their third TTRPG, but you gotta be real careful with their second. Most of the time, the game I'm inviting people to will be their first real exposure to a non-5e TTRPG. If they don't like it, they will run back to the safety of 5e and you will never get them out of it again. So I am very careful in picking the right system for the players I am inviting.
Whatever the new system I want to run is, I will set up a pilot session for it. I am very clear to players that I will teach them the system at the session, they do not need to know it in advance. Eventually, when I have a reliable group of TTRPG people to play with, I'll expect them to be able to pick up systems without a ton of help, but for players that are only used to the complexity of 5e, the idea of learning a new system is daunting. I rehearse the teaching of the game session. It's the only thing for TTRPGs I ever rehearse, but I want to know down pat how I'm going to quickly teach a new system and make it feel approachable and non-threatening. I'm also very clear that this will be a single session, with the possibility of turning into a campaign if we like it. All of this is structured to feel very safe. No initial learning required, no long term commitment, with a GM you already know you like.
But even as safe as that is, you still have to pitch the system. Why should the player be excited about playing this new game? Don't go all TTRPG nerd on them and explain all the details of the system, or use a bunch of jargon. Give them one or two things to be excited about with short, detailed anecdotes to back them up.
"We're going to be playing Blades in the Dark. It's a game where you play a gang of criminals in a haunted, steampunk dystopia. Every session you'll do heists, but instead of meticulously planning them, you start right in the action, and when you need to have planned for something, you can do a flashback scene to explain your preparation. One group I ran this for got busted by guards during an early heist, but used a flashback to create a scene where they had gotten a buddy of theirs a job as one of the guards, and he helped them out of the situation. And for some reason they fell in love with this bumbling goof I improvised to be the buddy, and then on a bunch of future jobs they kept using flashbacks to get him jobs wherever they were robbing. So this one idiot was just a de-facto crew member who worked a dozen different inside jobs despite being about as sharp as an eraser. And eventually they fucked up and got him killed, but they brought him back as a ghost, because you can do that in Blades in the Dark."
I find using a specific example of play really helps get peoples' imaginations going, which is what is going to help them say yes. And that example is tailored to what I know that player vibes with, what it is I think that makes them a good fit for this game.
The last detail about the invites is that I'm telling them, not asking them. It is not, "Hey, are you interested in playing this new game?" It's "I'm going to be running this new game. If you're interested in playing, please let me know what times work for you." If you're asking, you're going to get some "well but can it be 5e?" If you're telling, then they can choose to learn a new game in order to keep playing TTRPGs with a GM they know they like, or they can choose not to play at all.
Once you get enough yesses for a game, you run it, and then from there you're on your own. I think those are basically just friends you have at that point, and I'm not gonna tell you how to have friends.
Hopefully at least one person finds all that useful!
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tbaluver · 1 month
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hello there ! firstly, i wanted to tell you that i genuinely love your writing bc of the amazing characterization of the lnds boys !!! i wanted to request smth myself <3 feel free to ignore this if it's smth not within your taste !
i just recently thought that it would be cute to have a reader with a disney princess-like voice singing lullabies ! it could be their child or someone they babysit ! you could do any of the lnds boys that react to this but personally i'd like to see zayne (mainly bc he'd probably see reader at the hospital's kids area doing this !) and sylus, please ! thank you for your writing, we adore it ! ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡
When They Hear You Singing A Lullaby- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: eeeee anonnie i'm so happy to hear you love my writings it always makes me day !! im always grateful and love your guys support for my silly writings ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) i hope this is alright and that you enjoy this anonnie ! and also this emoticon is so cute omg i'm going to use this often ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
You thought he would be sound asleep when he was over at your place when you were babysitting one of your co-workers baby. The baby wasn't necessarily fussy at all with you but it started crying because it couldn't go to sleep. It woke Xavier up and he followed the sound of the crying down the hall until he overheard you singing a lullaby.
He would peek through the door to hear and watch you put the baby back to sleep. He watches in pure adoration, a soft smile spreading across his face. After you gently set the baby down, he approaches you slowly, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder. "You sang so beautifully," He whispers softly, careful not to disturb the baby. "Can you sing me to sleep next?"
"As if you need any help sleeping" You joked but you did it anyway. You sang a soft lullaby as he rested his head on your chest. He drifted off to sleep almost instantly, a soft smile on his face, before you could even finish the song
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Zayne:
While waiting for Zayne to finish his shift at the hospital, you received a text from him apologizing for the delay; he needed to discuss an upcoming operation with his colleagues. You texted him to take his time and began exploring the familiar hospital halls. As you wandered, you found yourself in the children’s area, admiring the colorful murals that brighten the space. Your growing hunger led you in search of a vending machine, but instead, you encountered a crying familiar child patient. You remember this child when you collected their drawings for the charity event you and Zayne helped with.
You crouch down to meet eye level with the child asking if they needed any assistance or if they needed a nurse but they simply shook their head saying that they can't find the nurse and that they can't sleep. They tugged your arm and asked if you can tell them a story or sing them a lullaby and you were more than happy to help out.
After finishing his shift, Zayne looked for you in the work hallway, but it was empty. He texted you but got no response, so he followed your shared location. As he approached, he heard you singing a familiar children's lullaby. Peeking through the door, he saw your back turned as you sang. He didn't want to interrupt but wanted to hear the whole song for himself too, captivated by your delicate and graceful voice. He was literally melting on the spot as he heard you sing. A smile would slowly spreading across his lips.
He's heard you humming before, usually when your doing your work or when you were helping him out in the kitchen. You let your mind drift off just a little bit as you hummed some of your favorite melodies. He already knew you had a beautiful voice but every time he tried to comment on it, your cheeks would heat up in embarrassment.
Lost in thought, Zayne was startled when you both unexpected crossed paths. You jumped as you emerged from the room, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, worried that he had heard everything. He spoke first, "There is no reason to be flustered. I think you have a beautiful voice and it's certainly comforting. Whenever you are comfortable I would like to hear more of it."
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Rafayel:
He was over at your house while you babysat one of your co-workers baby for the day. He asked if you needed any help when the baby started crying but you said it was okay as you ran off the go tend to the baby while he continued sketching on his sketchbook.
That's when he hears your voice. He sets aside his pencil and sketchbook, stopping his work to peek through the doorway. There, he watches you sing a lullaby while gently cradling the baby. He would think that your voice was beautiful and enchanting that seemed to effortlessly captivate all who hears it.
When you gently put the baby back down to it's bed, he'll be upset. Not literally. But upset that he hasn't heard you sing him a lullaby or ever heard you sing first or at all. He would pout and want you to sing him a lullaby immediately.
When you do, he falls asleep on your shoulder while he was sketching so when he wakes up he thinks your secretly full Leumurian because he hasn't heard a beautiful voice like that years ago.
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Sylus:
While Sylus was away on business, you let him know that you were busy taking care of your coworker's baby at your shared home. To be prepared, you had Luke and Kieran on standby in case you needed a break. When the baby began to cry, you swiftly picked them up, cradling them and singing a soothing song. Meanwhile, Luke and Kieran lingered in the hallway, and one of them decided to record your sweet singing and send it to Sylus, giggling as they did so knowing that he would love this.
As night fell and your coworker came to collect their baby, Sylus arrived shortly afterward. “Two little crows mentioned you can sing, sweetie. Is that true?” A blush spread across your cheeks, realizing that the twins had set you up once again. "I wish I could have been there to hear it myself. A video is not the same to hearing your mesmerizing voice in person."
Although he finds it amusing and adorable, he would ask if you could sing him a song to help him unwind because the business he dealt with was stressful. He wouldn't pressure you to sing him a lullaby but he would reassure you that your voice was already one of his favorite sounds already and nothing would ruin that.
That seemed to ease your worries, and as you both settled into bed, you let him unwind. You sang the same lullaby to him that you’d sung to the baby. Your gentle voice was incredibly soothing, wrapping him in a warmth and coziness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite his usual trouble with sleep, your voice made his eyelids grow heavy, a contented smile spreading across his lips as he drifted off.
It was no surprise that he loved hearing you sing and you having this skill made him think that it made you more beautiful to him than you already were.
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reidmotif · 9 months
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Always Bet on Black
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Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.
Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 3.7k
Masterlist
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“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 
My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  
And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 
I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 
“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 
Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 
How quickly my streak was destroyed. 
My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 
“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 
“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 
I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”
I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 
“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 
“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.
 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 
He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 
In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 
I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 
“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.
“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 
Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 
As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 
My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.
“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 
“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 
I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 
He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 
“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 
He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 
I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 
“You too.” 
For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 
I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 
“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.
“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 
“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 
It was official, something was off.
I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.
“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.
“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 
It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.
Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 
An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 
“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.
“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 
“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.
I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 
 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 
As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 
I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 
“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 
When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 
“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 
“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 
“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 
“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.
 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 
“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 
“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 
A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 
“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”
He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 
“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 
My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 
“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 
Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 
“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.
“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 
“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 
“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 
“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 
His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 
“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 
In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 
“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.
“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 
And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 
“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 
“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 
He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 
He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 
I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 
He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 
“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 
“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 
“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 
I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 
“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 
“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.
I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.
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  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!
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moonsgemini · 10 months
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cinnamon girl - rafe cameron
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summary: hating rafe cameron was easy to do when you were both teenagers, but after years a part and time spent thinking about one another one thing leads to another. Secret rendezvous between kook prince and kook princess ensue, finding any spare minute to be with each other without the judgey eyes of outer banks.
warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem reader, she/her, p in v, praise kink, semi public sex (a bunch of people are downstairs), fingering, oral f receiving, dirty talk, sneaking around, secret relationship, cussing, alcohol, enemies to lovers kinda
wc: 3.5k
an: another smutty smut. I have had this in my drafts for a bit & I just needed to finish it. It started out as being inspired by cinnamon girl by lana but I like don’t know what happened. also two posts in one day ???? who am I.
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In high school when y/n read Romeo and Juliet she fell in love with the tragic romance. She was astounded that love could be so intense and passionate. So much so that they were sneaking around behind everyone’s backs and the miscommunication ultimately leading to their deaths.
When she was sixteen she met Rafe Cameron. When her father introduced her to the tall blonde she didn’t think he would eventually be her Romeo. Especially not since he didn’t even smile or show the slightest interest in her. Their fathers had recently worked on a business deal together and had got along so well they wanted their families to get together.
She knew who he was and what he was like. Rumors run rampant on the figure eight. He constantly had snarky comments and remarks to make at her. Whether it be about her outfit, her likes, and especially about the boys she dated. y/n would be talking to Sarah about the boy she just went on a date with and Rafe would butt in with his two cents. He was a year older than her and he always made sure to act like he knew better because he was older.
“Fabian? You do know he like has dated half the cheer and volleyball teams,” Rafe scoffed as he stood in front of her and Sarah who were sat on the pool chairs outside. He had overheard y/n talking about the new guy she was seeing and Rafe couldn’t believe who the guy was. He also couldn’t believe she was dating at all.
Y/n looked at him with a glare, “I don’t remember asking for your input.”
“You could really use it though. Seems like you’re pretty fucking clueless at the fact that you’re a lot better than that asshole,” He rolled his eyes annoyed at the fact she couldn’t see how this escapade will end in heart break. He was only looking out for her so he doesn’t understand why she was so annoyed.
She chuckled bitterly, “Yeah like you care, besides I can find out for myself Rafe. I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me or not.”
Rafe rolled his eye because to him he did know what was good for her and Fabian was not. “Well when he ends up hurting you I’ll be ready to tell you I told you so,” He smirked taking a sip of his beer and walking away.
Sarah scoffed muttering, “Hate him.”
Y/n sighed watching him walk away and talk to her dad, “Couldn’t agree with you more.”
The first few years she knew Rafe she hated him. As much as you could hate him. He had always been extremely handsome, something she definitely noticed, and as he got older he became even hotter. In front of her parents he was charming and they interpreted his cocky demeanor as confidence. Whenever she complained about the Cameron boy being a prick they said they liked that Rafe knew what he wanted and always went for it, something that y/n could learn from him.
After she went away to college these family dinners became much smaller with only the parents and younger siblings. The kids having grown up and gone their own ways. Rafe was always on the mainland taking care of his dad’s business. Sarah had gone off to college so it was practically an empty nest. Occasionally during holiday breaks Sarah and y/n would join them for game night or dinner but Rafe still wasn’t around much.
She couldn’t lie and say he didn’t swim in her thoughts every now and then. Okay maybe more often then she’d like. Especially when he’d post on instagram and his bright smile would infect her mind on the nights she couldn’t fall asleep. She wondered if he ever thought about her but she doubted it since they never liked each other.
Rafe thought about her every day. Whenever he’d see her dad he’d find a way to bring her into conversation. He knew she was coming back soon and he made a note in his calendar to free his schedule on family dinner day because he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Even if she probably didn’t want to see him because he remembers her hatred for him when they were teenagers. It makes a smirk appear on his lips as he thought about y/n rolling her eyes and sending witty comebacks his way.
-
It was winter break of her junior year of college when she made if back to the outer banks.
Y/n was surprised to see him drinking a glass of scotch with her dad and Ward as she walked downstairs. Her family was hosting dinner that time. Her first thought when she spotted hime was person he was even more handsome. His boyish look almost completely gone now that he was a man. She noticed he had been working out because his chest and shoulders seemed broader. Could have even gotten taller?
“Hey there she is,” Ward said as she made it all the way down the steps.
She smiled politely and joked, “Here I am, hope you didn’t miss me too much.”
Rafe smirked taking a sip from his glass. After Ward asked her more questions about college and the internship she was starting on the mainland that following summer. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her as she talked to his dad. Seeing him had felt different that time. There was something different in the air.
During dinner they both stole glances at each other. Sometimes when she’d catch him staring at her he wouldn’t look away. Locking his eyes with her smirking and sipping on his second glass of scotch. His long fingers wrapped around the glass grabbed her attention. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. No guys she knew in college drank scotch, because none of them were men like him.
He couldn’t believe how much more beautiful she had gotten in the last three years. She was a woman now and she held herself with so much more confidence than when she was seventeen. Rafe liked that.
“Oh honey give Rafe a tour of the new wine cellar. It is so magnificent our architect is amazing, maybe you’ll like him for a new Cameron employee,” Y/n’s mom said to the young adults who had been eye fucking for the last forty minutes. Y/n’s mom had been feeling her second glass of wine now which led to her being all giddy and generous. It’s always what her mom did. So whenever they went to charity events her mom just needed a glass of wine to sign a check for $10,000.
She was also an avid wine collector so for the last year they had been building a wine cellar under the house. It turned out beautiful. All wood and the lighting was moody. There were racks of wines all around the room and a few in the middle creating ailse. There were also a few big wooden support beams.
“Sure mom. Follow me,” Y/n said nodding her head towards the back. He smirked standing up and following her a few paces behind so he could stare at her back side. She led him out to the side of the house where the entrance was. If her mom knew what she ultimately helped happen she’d kill the both of them. Mostly for committing such a sin next to her most prized possessions.
Ten minutes into the tour Rafe had y/n pinned against one of those wooden beams. Her legs wrapped around his waist with her hands in his hair tugging whenever he’d hit that spot she could never reach on her own. No college guy she had been with was ever able to hit that spot either. Their breaths mixed together as their faces were close together, y/n’s skirt bunched around her waist. One of his hands was under her shirt tweaking her nipple.
His dick inside of her smoothly sliding in and out as he fucked her. Rafe knew he would never forget this moment. Never forget just how wet she had been, all the noises she was making sounding heavenly.
The first time was erotic. Years of built up sexual tension was finally getting released and it felt so good. His hands, his lips, his body felt better than she could ever have imagined.
When they were done Rafe kissed her, lips slotting naturally with her like they always belonged there. She was worried it was a one time thing but he wasn’t acting like it. That bubble of anxiety in her chest popping as he continued to be sweet to her. He had slowly pulled out and set her down gently. Tugging her skirt back down and helping her step into her panties he had tugged off in a frenzy. He fixed himself as she fixed her hair and makeup.
“That’s not the last time that’s gonna happen,” He said breaking the silence, “I like you too much to let you go.”
-
Since the first night they hooked up they have been sneaking around behind their families backs seeing each other. Rafe flew and road tripped to her apartment more times that winter and spring than he can count. When she came back for the summer he was practically living at her house. He’d sneak in at night like they were teenagers and he’d sleep over or stay up talking with her until she fell asleep then he’d sneak out. Or sometimes (a lot of times) they’d be doing something else that involved rafe’s mouth on her.
When y/n got her internship he’d meet her for lunch. They’d hangout in secluded areas on the beach and whenever they wanted to have a nice date night they’d stay a few cities over for the weekend to be alone and be a couple in public. For her birthday Rafe took her to the Amalfi coast for a few days where they spent most of the time on a boat, in a pool, or in bed having amazing sex. Y/n told her parents she was going to the lake for the weekend where she’d barely have service. Somehow they believed it.
They kept it a secret not because their families would be upset. It’s the opposite actually, they’d be too excited. Then there would be all this pressure on their relationship. The mom’s and Ward would be urging Rafe to propose because their families merging would make them look incredibly good and powerful in the developing industry. They’d want a huge wedding with a bunch of people they don’t know. There’d start to be talk about grand babies. All of figure eight would be talking about the kook prince and princess dating and on their way to live off their trusts. It would just be too much.
It was the last dinner party of the summer and Y/n was giddy. She hadn’t seen Rafe in two weeks because he had gone away on a business trip with his dad and then she had gone on to see her grandparents in New York. It was the most time they had spent a part in the last four months.
Tonight would be the last night they see each other for another couple weeks while y/n moves into her senior year apartment and settles into school. Rafe knew how important school was to her so he wanted to give her space to settle which she was grateful for because pre law was not easy. It would also be too suspicious if he randomly showed up to help while her parents are there.
This was a big dinner party so it was perfect. Y/n’s parents were hosting so it was all perfect. Every big family on Figure Eight, even the ones who only summer there, was at her house. The house was filled with many distractions since her mother also loved collecting art. No one would see them sneak upstairs to her room, especially with all the wine that’s being consumed.
Rafe had been dreaming about touching her since he last saw her. Oh and when he saw her he didn’t even waste a moment. As soon as he saw an opportunity to drag her upstairs to her bedroom he did. It was when appetizers were brought out and everyone had gathered outside. Y/n smirked the whole time knowing he wanted her as bad as she wanted him. Her short dress definitely did the job it was supposed to when she spotted his hard on when he first grabbed her.
His eagerness showing when he practically slammed her against the inside of the bedroom door. His lips on hers with fervor. They moved expertly against each other. Immediately finding their rhythm, no matter how many times they have each other it’s never enough.
His hands sliding down her waist and slowly going under her sundress. That’s when he feels nothing. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He instantly got harder and groaned into her mouth.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” He mumbled as he began trailing kisses down her neck.
Her hands tugged at his hair, “I missed you Rafey,” she whined not even feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about her eagerness. She had missed him so much.
He began walking her towards the bed. His lips still latching onto any exposed skin on her chest. They kicked their shoes off in the process, Rafe undid a few more buttons of his shirt. His tanned broad chest making her breathing uneven. When her knees hit the end of the bed she sat back crawling backwards towards the pillows. He followed her his knees spreading her legs.
“I missed you baby,” He gently cupped her face and stroked her cheek softly, “I can’t wait to make you cum.”
The soft gesture with the dirty words made her cheeks feel hot. That devilish smirk appearing on Rafe’s face like he knew that would happen. And that’s because he did know. Rafe knew her body and he knows just what to do to make her squirm. He looked too hot for her to even care how dirty he sounded. Sometimes she’d shy away but other times it made her putty in his hands. Y/n reached forward kissing him not so gently. They’d have time for the lovey dovey stuff later.
He began kissing down her body. Her chin then her neck, paying attention to that spot that made her hips jerk up for relief. His hand were gliding up her legs pushing her dress up around her waist in the process.
Rafe kissed her shoulders as he pushed her straps down in a teasing manor. He kissed her collarbones then her chest. Finally moving to her stomach and her pelvic bone. Oh had he missed this. His hands moved to her knees spreading her legs wider.
Y/n’s hands were in his hair already tugging. Giving an even harder tug when he reach forward giving her a teasing lick. She had to cover her mouth with one hand to not be loud.
Rafe wanted to tease her but he just couldn’t resist. He dove right in. His tongue finding her clit immediately, moving his tongue in circles. He alternated between that and licking down her slit. Tongue teasing her entrance. It was all so euphoric.
Her back arched off her bed. Y/n tried her best to keep quiet but a few moans slipped out. She hoped the chatter and music playing downstairs was enough to cover her noises. Rafe hummed against her core making the feeling even more intense.
“Oh god Rafey,” She sighed dreamily, “I missed your mouth. Know just what to do.”
He lives for the praise. It boosted his ego and encouraged him to do better and outdo himself. Hearing her breathy wins and moans muffled by her own hand were making him impossibly hard.
As he sucked and licked her clit he reached around and abruptly slipped a finger into her wet center. Her thighs practically suffocating him as he moved in and out of her touching that perfect spot inside of her. He always made her cum and he always did it fast. Before she met Rafe she had only ever finished with her own hand or vibrator.
“I’m gonna cum!” She whisper shouted.
Rafe moaned, “Cum for me baby.”
It felt like electricity was going through her body as she came. His movements relentless until he knew she was satisfied. He began to slow down as she came down, leaving her with one final lick. He kissed the inside of her thighs softly before crawling up to her again. She pulled him forward needing his lips on hers. She moaned at her taste on his tongue.
“I need to be inside you,” Rafe groaned as he felt one of her hands reach down and palm him through his pants.
“Please fuck me,” She batted her eyelashes at him knowing it always got her what she wanted.
He groaned again before sitting back on his feet so he can unbutton the rest of his shirt. Y/n sat up pulling her dress all the way off. Rafe made quick work of his pants pulling them down his legs.
His member slapped against his stomach, her mouth watering at the sight. Rafe was created with care, everything about him was perfect to her. He grabbed his length pumping it a few times before he rubbed his tip through her folds. Spreading her wetness around, his eyes rolled back at the feeling.
“Oh please please put it in,” She whined, “I need you so bad Rafey.”
“Baby your wish is my command,” He smirked and thrusted into her slowly pushing in inch by inch.
“Yes yes yes yes,” She chanted in pure bliss. Y/n didn’t care how desperate she sounded.
Rafe sighed as he began moving slowly. She was so tight and warm, even better than he remembered. He knew he wasn’t going to last long but he would make sure she came again before he did at all. He hit that spot inside of her that made her eye’s roll back and toes curl.
“Taking me so good my love,” Rafe encouraged as he picked up speed.
He grabbed one of her boobs and brushed his thumb over her hardened nipple. He leaned down and placed the other one in his mouth sucking and licking gently. All of the stimulation had her body feeling like it was on fire. He released it with a pop and went back to capture her lips in his. Y/n’a hands gripped his hair and clawed his back
“I’m gonna cum babe,” She moaned, “Yes right there, oh oh god.”
“Yeah baby cum for me,” He sighed, “Fuck I’m gonna cum too.”
Her eyes rolled back at his words, “Please cum in me, fill me up please please,” she blubbered feeling overwhelmed by the orgasm that was about to take over her body. The sounds of his deck sliding in and out of her wet pussy made him reach the edge. Everything about her was so sexy from the noises she made to the way she looked sprawled out below him.
Her words made him pick up his pace pounding into her. He felt her clench around him knowing she was coming. She moaned and scratched his back as she came. Biting her lip to not let anymore loud noises slip out of her. He came inside of her with a groan. Rafe continued to pump in and out of her slowing down as he came down from his high.
He swore he could cum again just looking at her all fucked out. Her hair all over the place, lipstick smudged and probably all over his face.
After a few minutes of catching their breaths Rafe pulled out gently. A whine leaving her lips at the empty feeling. Rafe got up going to her bathroom to get a towel to clean her up. When he came back he dabbed her center cleaning up.
“I missed you so much Rafe,” Y/n said breaking the silence.
He leaned forward kissing her knee, “I missed you more my love.”
“You think anyone heard?”
He shrugged, “Don’t think so. If they did then oops.”
She laughed, “Don’t say that Rafe, then we will get caught.”
He smirked as he laid next to her again opening his arms as an invitation that she gladly took. Resting her head on his chest and he leg wrapped around his waist. One of his hands stroking her hair and the other rubbing up and down her body slowly feeling all her exposed skin.
“Lets lay a few minutes then get back to hearing my dad talk about business for hours,” Y/n said savoring the feeling of laying with him.
“I love you,” He kissed the crown of her head a few times.
She smiled, “I love you. Sneak over tonight?” She asked looking up at him hopefully.
“Read my mind,” He smirked.
2K notes · View notes
hyunsvngs · 11 months
Text
kinktober !
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kink: tentacles
pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader
wc: 2.3k
tentacle kink: a sexual interest in tentacles and the imagined creatures that have them.
It had to work. You would die if it didn’t work.
Then again, you’d probably die if it did work. You’re trying to summon Slenderman, after all. No one would understand why except for you. You’ve always had an affinity for all things macabre and dangerous, and maybe you’re a little messed up. After deep diving on Reddit, you were more than dubious that the creature actually existed. You had to find out. You had to see for yourself.
Clearly not that bad, because you hadn’t gone into the woods like they’d told you to online. The October weather was ultimately too cold to be trekking through branches and fallen leaves, even to try and summon your favourite Creepypasta entity - you did the second option instead, drawing a quick symbol on your wall with marker and all of the lights turned out.
The poem felt a little silly coming from your lips, despite Reddit users insisting it’s mandatory for the summoning. It felt even sillier when you stared at the symbol, barely visible through the moonlight flooding in beyond the curtains, but you had to persevere. If he was real, he’d come to your room and meet you. If he was real.
You ended the poem, finally opening your eyes and sighing. You blinked at the wall, quickly looking around the room. What a load of bullshit. Slenderman isn’t real, then. You’d proved it for yourself, and-
“This is fucking ridiculous,” There was a thud behind you, and you spun around on your bed, hazily trying to see who had joined you in your room. You reached over with a squeak, flicking your lamp on. There, in what almost looked like the Slenderman from your dreams - a man, dressed in a suit and dark, ebony hair pushed back from his forehead. He kicked an imaginary stone with his shoe, shoving his broad hands into his pockets and finally looking up at you. He blinked at you a few times, and then raised an eyebrow. “Why are you scared? Did you not ask for this?”
You huffed. “Well, you’re not Slenderman.”
The man groaned, head rolling back. He cracked his neck effortlessly on both sides, and then stared back into your eyes. His gaze was piercing, dark and feeling all too consuming. “I am- I’m like his brother, but not in the way you humans adhere to. He sends me for cases like yours. Minor, petty things.”
“Cases like mine?” You scoffed, resisting the urge to punch the man in his annoyingly attractive face. He wandered over to your desk, wholly unaffected, and started to flick through your diary. “Hey-!”
“Cases like yours,” He repeated, a small smile flickering on his lips at one of the pages. “Sexually charged cases. You are a little fucked up, aren’t you?”
You bristled. You knew exactly what page he was looking at. Your diary was for mundane things, your day-to-day life, but it was also where you detailed your more… late night fantasies. Recently, some rather obscure things had been taking up the majority of your brain, and maybe that’s what had pushed you to summon Slenderman. You’d never admit that, though.
In all honesty, this guy was kind of hot. You weren’t sure if it was the mysterious atmosphere about him, if he was clearly otherworldly judging from his alabaster skin, or if it was his long legs in those suit trousers. If you were of a different state of mind, you’d have believed he was the entity you were trying to reach. There was just one thing.
“Aren’t you a bit short to be related to Slenderman?”
The man stopped. He sighed, and then shut the diary, before turning to you with one long, accusing finger. “First off, I’m not that short. Secondly, I told you, it’s not the same as what you humans think siblings are. Also, I don’t have to prove myself to you.”
You grinned. “You just tried though, right?”
He rolled his eyes, stalking over to the bed. “I think I’ll kill you sooner than I planned. You’re rude.”
“You’re rude too,” You huffed, trying to kick him in the leg from your position on your bed. Instead of catching it with his hands, a pitch-black tentacle sprouted from his back and wrapped around your ankle, effectively pinning it down and rendering you motionless. You gasped, and he raised an eyebrow. “What the-”
“We do have some similarities,” The man began, drawing the tentacle tighter. “We’re of the same species, for one. I suppose I’m not as prestigious as him, but you seem happy enough to have me here, right?”
You blinked. “I would actually prefer if you left, in all honesty.”
“Can’t,” He shrugged, withdrawing the tentacle. Your ankle flopped back to the bed and you grabbed it instinctively, slightly disappointed to feel no traces of the slimy limb. “I need to kill you. It’s in the rulebook, you know? Once you’ve seen one of us, you have to die, or my mission will fail.”
What were you meant to do in this situation? You didn’t really want to die. You hadn’t thought the whole thing through at all. You’d expected to just see traces of the entity, perhaps catch him from the corner of your eye - you were instead left with a sexy long-limbed man standing in front of your bed, basked in the soft orange glow of your bedside lamp.
“Why kill me when you could fuck me instead?” You’d said the first thing that came to mind. The man’s jaw dropped, before it quickly reverted back to normal, his head tilting to the side in confusion.
“You are pretty weird, aren’t you? Unusual. A little fucked up, like I said.”
“That wasn’t a no,” You hummed. The man’s eyes burnt a trail down your legs, exposed in your sleep shorts, and then his eyes were fixated on a patch of skin revealed on your shoulder from where your shirt had slipped to the side. You scoffed, yanking the shirt back into place. “Oh my God, you want to, don’t you?! That’s why you haven’t left!”
He shrugged. “I’ve never fucked a human. It could be fun.”
You blanched. Okay, you hadn’t expected to get this far. After you had, though… Well, he had tentacles. That was something from your deepest, darkest desires, something that you would try to push to the back of your brain and scrunch your eyes shut tightly with your hand shoved down your pyjama trousers. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were already getting wet, clit throbbing with need.
He started to move towards you. First, it was one knee on the bed, and then the other joined, starting a slow crawl that resulted in his face getting closer. You hadn’t realised you were moving closer, too, and you gulped. “What’s- what’s your name?”
The man chuckled, face only inches from yours now. His face looked young, you noticed, yet his eyes held a wildfire inside as if there was so much you didn’t know. There was so much you wanted to know. “Seungmin.”
You had no time to debate it, because his lips were pressing against yours. They were soft, plush, and you found yourself whimpering into his kiss. He’d effectively shut you up. Without a second passing, Seungmin was dominating your mouth, pressing his tongue in and rolling it against yours. How did just a kiss feel so good?
You let him push you back into the sheets, forearms landing on your pillow either side of your head for purchase. He deepened the kiss, his hands moving to tangle in your hair as he held you in place. You felt your pussy flutter, achingly horny despite the lack of stimulation, and your breath caught in your chest. 
Seungmin pulled away and you licked your lips, chest heaving. “I.. can I see them?”
“See what?” He mused, thumb brushing along your lower lip. One look at the amused expression on his face told you that he knew. 
“The…” You gulped, legs parting to allow him closer to you. His bulge was thick, pressing tightly against your core. “The tentacles, Seungmin. Can I see them? How many are there?”
“Four, baby,” He leaned down, nipping at your neck. You gasped, hips bucking up, choosing not to comment on the pet name in your haze of lust. “I can put one in your pussy, one in your asshole and one in your mouth. How’s that? Is that dirty enough for you?”
You whimpered, grinding on his bulge. Seungmin allowed it, hands moving to your hips to aid your movement. It had your sleep shorts slipping around, fabric sticking to the wetness accumulated on your folds. You whined, arms thrashing until they settled around his broad shoulders, still clad in his expensive-looking suit. “What about your cock, Seungmin?”
“My cock?” Seungmin scoffed, running his tongue up your neck. It made you squirm, thighs clenching around his slender waist. His hair tickled your skin, dark and perfect as if he’d spent hours styling it. You knew he hadn’t. “I can fuck you without needing to cum, baby. I doubt I can say the same for you.”
“No, I’ll- I’ll probably cum as soon as you put one in, to be honest,” You admitted, cheeks burning crimson with embarrassment. 
“Hmm, that makes a lot of sense,” Seungmin reached down, yanking your sleeping shorts down. It bared your pussy to the room, cold air hitting your clit and the slick on your pussy. It made you jolt, squeaking as Seungmin saw you in such an intimate way. “You’re wet. Are you feeling impatient? Needy, even?”
“Yes! Yes, God, I need it,” You huffed, spreading your thighs further. You were practically spread eagle now, and you ran your fingertips over the soft expanse of your tummy, just barely visible below your shirt. You continued the journey down your body, looking up at Seungmin with pleading eyes, and then you pressed two fingers into your clit. You flinched, wailing at the stimulation. “Ah, I’m so horny, I’m so horny, what the fuck-”
“Stay still, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin murmured, and then you caught sight of them again. Four pitch-black tentacles sprouted from his back, seeming to forego his clothes and then one was tickling at your entrance. You moaned, because were they suckers?
It was easy to learn that yes, his tentacles had suckers, and he was now brushing one over your clit. You obediently moved your hands out of the way, back to their position on his shoulders. It sucked onto the swollen bundle of nerves with ease, and just as you started to squirm, another tentacle was pressing into your tight, drippy hole. You could feel the amount of slick you’d gushed beneath you, ruining your bed and quite possibly ruining you for any other man. The appendage itself was lubed, brushing through your own wetness and creating a filthy noise that rang throughout your bedroom.
“Don’t squirm,” Seungmin commanded, hand running up your thigh comfortingly. The tentacle pushed in further, and you clenched, wet, heavy breaths coming from your mouth. “That’s it, good girl. Let it push inside you, just like that.”
The tentacle was narrow at the tip, but it flared much further out after an inch or so. The stretch made your pussy leak even more than what was imaginable. You didn’t think you’d ever been this wet. The appendage was long, but Seungmin kept pushing more and more until you were taking around five inches of it, and you whined, reaching down to press at his stomach.
“Too big, too much,” You protested, but Seungmin shushed you, pressing a kiss into your cheek.
“Your pussy’s just too little, baby. Too tight,” He grunted, and then he pushed another inch in. “Take it. Take it for me, and I might think about giving you my cock later.”
“Your- would you?” Your eyes were teary, toes curling into the bed. “Been good. Tryin’ to take it, ‘s just- it’s so thick, so long. Seungmin, Seungmin, sir, sir, you said you- you’re not gonna kill me?”
“How can I kill such a sweet thing?” His hand moved to your cheek, before moving down, wrapping around your neck. The pressure was light, but very much there, making you moan out into your room. “You’re whining so pretty for me. Calling me sir, taking this just like it’s my cock. You’re dirty. I have to keep you around, don’t I?”
You nodded, legs thrashing on the bed. Your chest heaved, a blotchy pink rash overtaking your skin. “It’s good, it’s so good, so thick, oh- Oh, I think I might…?”
“You think you’re gonna cum?” Seungmin scoffed. “Already? Alright, do it. I’ll let you. Just this once, okay?”
You keened, hands gripping onto his shoulders. Your fingernails must have been digging into him almost painfully, but he didn’t flinch, staring straight at you with the same dark, piercing gaze. Your pussy clenched down, tight and fluttering, and then you were-
You gasped, eyes fluttering open as you attempted to look around your bedroom. The sun had just begun to rise, but your boyfriend was awake, and pulled you into his chest upon seeing your eyes open. 
“Sounded like hell of a dream,” Seungmin smirked, his eyebrow raising. You bit your lip, staring up at him. “Was it about me?”
“Always is,” You mumbled, burying your face in his shirt. He chuckled, shoulders shaking as he rubbed down your back with a tender, broad hand. “It was dirty.”
“Yeah? Another reenactment of how we first met?”
You sighed, brushing your hand down one of his tentacles. It laid bare on your bed, and twitched with approval as you fidgeted with it.
“Yeah, something like that.”
1K notes · View notes
tasteracha · 1 year
Text
kinktober — day four
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kink: body worship with changbin
warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. implied thick!reader (but can be read with any body type). mentions of body insecurity. afab!reader.
when changbin get home from work, he finds you wrapped in a big sweatshirt and a blanket, hood pulled all the way up and your entire body a shapeless lump on the couch. it’s one of those days - not especially bad, but the kind of day that left you not wanting to be perceived. if you could have become one with the couch, you would have. 
living together is new - being together in general is new. you’ve been friends for years and years, but only took the plunge into a relationship recently, falling into each other in fast forward until you were moving in with him after just a few months. him coming home to you every day just felt so natural though, and with the frequency of how often one of you stayed the night at the others it just made sense. 
“hi, beautiful,” he greets you as he flops next to you, bone-deep tiredness clear in the way he melts against your side. he makes your heart squeeze as he nuzzles his head into your chest, and it threatens to beat right out of your skin.
“‘m not,” you mumble out, unable to keep it in. you’re usually so careful about separating your insecurities from him, scared to show them to him even though you know he would be nothing but sweet to you about it.
“excuse me?” he says, sitting up so quick you’re surprised he didn’t get whiplash from it. he left you no time to regret your words as he frames your face with both of his hands and turns your head to face him. “say that again.”
“i just,” you try and look away but he nudges your head back towards his face again. “i don’t think i am. beautiful. i guess i’m not ugly but i’ve never felt like i was something special, you know?”
“no, i don’t.” he says with intense ferocity, finality on his tongue like he was begging you to try and argue with what he knew was truth. “i’ve always thought you were gorgeous, even before we were together.”
“i guess i just don’t see myself that way,” you sigh, wishing you simply hadn’t opened your mouth. 
“every single part of you is beautiful, do you understand?” he rubs his thumbs against your cheekbones before sliding his hands down past your shoulders. 
“these arms?” he squeezes your upper arms with both of his hands, using his thumb to caress the skin there. “i dream about them, the way you wrap them around me when you’re happy or excited, it’s my favorite place to be.”
“but yours are too-“
“this isn’t about me,” he cuts you off, sharply but not unkind. he moves to your breasts, caressing them more gently than he ever had before.
“these? do you even see how many people stare at you when we go out at night?” he asks, pinching a bit at your skin. “it makes me so jealous, makes me want to take you home and keep you all to myself always. no one should be able to appreciate you but me.”
his hands roam further down, slotting themselves over your hips and squeezing with his fingertips. 
“see these? they’re what i use to hold you down when you’re on top of me. how else would i be able to get you in the exact position i want you, hmm?”
your breath picks up as his fingers ghost over the swell of your lower belly, and you have to resist the urge to curl up around yourself so that he doesn’t see you. 
“this?” he leans down to pepper kisses against your burning skin, leaving invisible marks that you can feel as though they were tattoos. “this is perfection. i want to bury my face in your stomach and suffocate in it, this isn’t a flaw to be hidden. it’s not something that you need to get rid of, not something that you shouldn’t have. it’s part of you, and that means that it’s perfect.”
his words are washing over you like tidal waves, wiping out your thoughts and replacing them with his. it’s all complimented by the scorching touch of his hands on your skin, you can feel him everywhere, consuming your entire being. 
“your thighs?” he continues, kneading at the skin around your quads. “they were made to be on a goddess, do you get it? i want to sink my teeth into them and never let go. i want to cover your thighs in bite marks until you can’t see your skin anymore, so they’re all mine.”
he grabs your ass with both hands, his long fingers covering a surprising amount of surface area as they dig into your muscle. 
“and do not get me started on this ass. this belongs in museums, on display so everyone can see what perfection looks like and feel bad about themselves for not being this perfect.”
and it’s a bit silly that you start crying because of that, but you can’t contain your bubbling emotions anymore. salty tears leave your eyes and you move to cover your face, but he stops you before you can.
“i don’t love you despite these things,” he says, caressing your face with the gentlest touch, feather soft. “i love you because of them. i’m sorry that i’ve never told you like this how obsessed with you i am. i think you are the most exquisite person that has ever walked this earth. do you understand?”
“yes,” you breathe out, finally understanding. finally accepting what he was saying.
“good,” he lets a smile creep onto his face, cheeks filling out. “now, will you let me make my pretty girl feel good?” 
you nod, taking in a gulping breath as he slowly undresses you, taking time to run his hands over your skin reverently. when he takes off your panties you’re surprised by how wet you are, the cold air hitting your pussy and making you shiver. he runs a finger through your folds, collecting the slick there and spreading it to your clit. 
“this perfect pussy? how could i want anything else when this is all mine?” he circles around your clit one, two three times before sliding one finger into you, slow enough that it makes you shiver. he crooks his finger inside of you, massaging your walls languidly like he’s mapping out every single millimeter of you to memory. it’s almost more overwhelming than when he bends you over and takes you on the kitchen table, hurried and frantic, because at least then you didn’t have time to think. now, you have all the time in the world to focus on the way he feels inside you, the way his free hand is warm on your thigh where it’s squeezing, the way his own breath catches when you clench around him like he’s the one with a finger inside of him. 
“i could keep my fingers inside of you all day, that’s how much i love it.” he slips another inside and you sigh at the stretch, your muscles tensing when he finds the spot inside of you that sends sparks running through your nervous system. he smiles at you, almost wickedly, before speeding up his movements, accentuating them by pressing his thumb to your clit. almost too fast, you feel your orgasm approaching, much slower than you’ve ever felt it. you can almost see it taking over your body, a golden light starting at your fingers and toes and spreading up your limbs to your core, slow inch by slow inch. you forget to breath, gulping in air when the light finally snaps into place, squeezing your legs around his hand as you ride it out for what feels like straight minutes. 
you come back to yourself in his arms, his fingers stroking the wispy strands of hair across your forehead out of your eyes. he’s looking at you with the fondest smile you’ve ever seen, like he can’t believe that he gets to hold you in his arms like this. 
“don’t hide these things from me anymore, okay? i can’t make you feel better if i don’t know that you’re feeling bad in the first place.” 
kinktober masterlist
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iiseult · 5 months
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Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!
Wedding Night: Baldwin IV x reader
CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!
Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away
Wordcount: 2k
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you. 
Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.
“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.  
“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 
“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes. 
“I promise I’ll be gentle.” 
He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted. 
“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it. 
He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little. 
“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. 
“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.
“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.” 
You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-” 
You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter. 
“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke. 
“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him. 
Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.
“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds. 
You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back. 
“Can you sit up for me, please?” 
He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them. 
You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face. 
Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air. 
Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out. 
“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle. 
“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations. 
Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this. 
‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army. 
“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch. 
Now it was your turn to blush. 
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feeder86 · 6 months
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Feeder 86: The Top Ten
Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?
This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 
Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!
So, with that being said, let us begin...
#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!
#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.
#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.
#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.
#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.
#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.
#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...
If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.
#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…
#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 
Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…
Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!
Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…
#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 
With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 
The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…
So, there you have it! The the complete list!
This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...
So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  
Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.
Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.
Happy 200 stories!
Feeder86
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abby-howard · 2 months
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I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?
Hi there!
I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.
Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.
When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.
There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:
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Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:
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And here's the same comic, years later:
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And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:
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Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:
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Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!
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And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.
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She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.
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So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.
Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!
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thisblogisaboutabook · 7 months
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Rainy Season - Part 5
I Want Crazy
Azriel Eris x Reader
After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.
A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.
Part 4 Part 6
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Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles
Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain
He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:
-He was a High Lord.
-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.
-Azriel fucking hated him.
And after that day I knew everything I needed to:
-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins
-He was a just ruler
-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.
-I wanted to see him again.
After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.
He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.
Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.
Who cares if you’re all I think about?
I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.
My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.
Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.
The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.
And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.
Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.
We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”
We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.
We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.
“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.
I scooted a bit closer.
“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”
He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.
So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.
When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.
And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.
When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.
I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.
I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.
Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.
He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.
“Good girl.”
Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.
It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.
The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.
I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.
Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.
The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.
It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.
I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.
My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.
Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.
As the finale approached, I pouted.
“I hate when they end.”
Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”
Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.
My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.
“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”
He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.
“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”
Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.
“Only the ones I want to kiss.”
A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.
And that I WANTED to kiss him.
So I did.
We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”
And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.
We shared many more before dawn.
You can’t undo a fall like this.
When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.
The guilt never came.
Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:
“Do you regret it?”
I knew exactly what he referred to.
“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”
I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.
“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”
Heat radiated through me at his admission.
But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.
“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”
I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.
Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.
“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”
It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.
“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”
I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"
The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.
Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.
Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.
I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.
I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"
We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.
We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.
I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.
“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”
“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.
Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.
“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”
“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”
The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.
“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”
“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”
———————————
@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious
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athenamikaelson · 2 months
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11
Word Count- 3.8k
Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending
“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”
I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?
It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak. 
Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.
Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket. 
I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me. 
“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.
“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.
I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”
Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.
“Really Stefana, I’m good.”
Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it. 
I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”
Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be. 
After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way. 
“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered. 
At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up.  It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it. 
“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.
“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time. 
“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”
I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room. 
“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”
“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment. 
I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me. 
“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me. 
“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.
Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong. 
We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”
I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”
Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”
I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”
Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”
“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”
This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”
I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”
Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions. 
“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”
At the sound of footsteps, I stand up. 
“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”
Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.
“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”
I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.
“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.
“Ya whatever, Demon.”
It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.
Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them. 
“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else. 
“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.
“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.
“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks. 
Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it,  he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life. 
“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline. 
Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.
I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”
They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”
I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”
“You knew?!’’
“What?”
“Excuse me?”
“Bro!”
They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”
“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”
“Y/N!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”
They think about this for a moment before nodding.
“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.
“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”
We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.
I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”
I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”
Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years. 
Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention. 
He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look. 
“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.  
“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?” 
Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”
“There he is!” 
I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution. 
“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.
“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight. 
After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.
Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.
“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon. 
I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm. 
“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear. 
A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest. 
“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.
 I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.
“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”
Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort. 
“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”
I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.
“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.
“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes. 
Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human. 
Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”
“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now. 
“I’m helping him.”
I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.
“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder. 
“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”
“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.
“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.
“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.
—-
Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”
“What? What is it,” Ric asks.
“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”
I shake my head in denial.
  “Well, they have to.”
Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”
“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”
Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.
“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”
Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew. 
I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open. 
I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy. 
“Y/N?”
I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers. 
“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”
“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder. 
Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy. 
“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”
I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.” 
The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”
I nod and thank him.
“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”
My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”
The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves. 
Great who the hell is going to drive me home?
I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily. 
At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.
“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.
“Is everything ok,” I question. 
The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?
“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.
“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle. 
“Please… what are you talking about?”
The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”
My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.
“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”
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Text
WOULD YOU TELL ME TO GO FUCK MYSELF?
bakugou katsuki x reader
part 3/3, part 1, part 2
a month after your breakup, you open the door for katsuki.
reminder that love is not a subsititue for forgiveness. this is simply a work of fiction 🪽
inspired by betty
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katsuki (do not answer) : have i told you that enough? that i love you?
katsuki (do not answer): im sorry
katsuki (do not answer): for not telling you i love you enough
katsuki (do not answer): for not telling you how god damn pretty you are
katsuki (do not answer): for not buying you flowers
katsuki (do not answer): for not treating you how i should have
katsuki (do not answer): i know i messed up
katsuki (do not answer): but i wanna make it right
katsuki (do not answer): you're my whole fucking world
katsuki (do not answer): and i do love you
katsuki (do not answer): so open the door, im outside
✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚
you stared at the texts. evident by the shadow behind your door, he was indeed standing outside your apartment.
the swirl of emotions in your heart threatened to climb up your throat and spill from your mouth at the thought of seeing his face. you should tell him to fuck off. you should send him crying. you should tell him how shitty he is and how stupid he is to come here seeking your forgiveness. you should be smart about this.
but you’re not.
your shaky hand rests on the doorknob, threatening to twist it and see his face at any given moment. but you hesitate, because of course you do. you’re sweaty and emotional and terrified. your hearts been through too much to go through more. how much more were you willing to endure?
just on the other side, katsuki rested his forehead against the wooden door, as if trying to feel your presence from behind. god, he misses you. he’d do anything just to see your face again. the worst thing he has ever done was what he did to you. and the only thing he wants to do is make it up to you.
he wonders if you’ll have him. if you’ll still want him.
and he isn’t sure what scares him more- your answer or your lack of one.
and just as he’s about to turn away, the door creaks.
he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. it doesn’t matter if your eyes are puffed up and your practically drowning in your hoodie. he is physically incapable of finding you anything less than gorgeous. his eyes are glossy, his hair is tarnished, he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink- because he hasn’t.
you sigh. this was gonna be a long night.
“…hey.” his usual gruff voice was replaced by something more sincere. he hopes you don’t notice how sore his throat is from crying.
you don’t say anything, instead opting to step aside, allowing this cheating, unfaithful bastard into your house. you watch as his crimson eyes take in the familiar surroundings, memories erupting from the beds you previously made. you wonder what he’s been up to in the past few months. it was izuku’s birthday recently- they celebrated by throwing a party. you wonder if maybe he went to that party, if perhaps he drank at that party. but you hoped his last endeavour with the liquid poison scared him away from alcohol entirely.
“is icyhot here?” he asks, cautiously. you scoff. of course thats what he wants to know. “no.” you answer, and he sighs in relief. but you almost wish shouto was here. you two never dated like katsuki and many others thought you were, but you’d be lying if you said the photos you had posted on instagram weren’t a bit suggestive. you knew they’d drive katsuki crazy, and they succeeded in fulfilling that goal.
“are you two…?” he trails off, the answer causing katsuki to have feelings he wasn’t able to confront. when you shake your head no, he decides to leave it at that. as long as its a no, he’s okay without hearing the details.
the two of you wander off to your bedroom. seeing katsuki in it makes it feel complete for the first time in months. you two sit side by side on your bed, just accepting each others existences without anything else to add. theres so many unspoken words, so many tears yet to be shed, yet it was the silence that stung the most.
“i’ve you told you this a million fuckin’ times babe but… i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he says, running a hand through his hair. he’s at an honest loss for words. he’s starting to think coming all this way was a mistake, especially when he sees the way you tear up over his words. god, he hates himself for this.
the worst part about seeing katsuki on your bed again was knowing that just a few months ago, he laid on some other girls bed. he took the sheets of the bed you made together and crumpled them up. he deflated the pillows and burned the headboard to ash the moment he crossed the threshold onto some other person. it broke you inside just thinking about it, thinking of the other person he kissed, he touched, he made love to. it made your stomach churn.
“do you regret it?” you shakily ask. you need to know. you need to know that he’s absolutely drowing in guilt, his heart tortured by the past. he looks at you like the answer should be obvious.
“every single day.” he proclaims. “its why… its why i has to break up with us. you deserve so much better than me, [y/n].”
you had never seen katsuki looking like such a mess. he could barely look you in the eye while making his desperate attempt to atone for his sins. and you agreed- you deserved better than him. you deserve better treatment, better love, and a better boyfriend.
and you wanted to scream at the sky, at the universe. scream at them, ask them why that person couldn’t be katsuki bakugou? it was god’s cruelest joke to make you fall in love with a bastard like him.
you look over at him. god, you wanna kiss him, touch him again. feel your bodies pressed against each other, lips on lips while his tongue explores the cavern your words erupt from. that warm, area of limbo between your lips when he ever so slightly pulls away, letting you remove his shirt over his head. you wanna hold him, skin against skin, you wanna love him.
even if it meant tasting that other girl on his lips. if you were being honest, you wanted to kiss that taste away for him.
but you couldn’t bring yourself too. not after the way your heart screamed for salvation, for milk and honey, to be loved without having to give the moon in return.
“i don’t forgive you.” you finally muster out. both of you let out a sigh, yours in relief and bakugou’s from anticipation. he knew that would be your answer, but he let himself believe otherwise.
“i know.” he says, shakily looking down, ash blonde locks hanging low. it was so, so fucking funny- what was he expecting anyway? your forgiveness?
“and. i still love you.” you cry.
“i don’t forgive you. not after what you did. i-i… i can still love you without having to forgive you right now.” your conclusion is what hurts him the most, though you both know its whats gonna have to work. you can still love him, because your heart is so utterly his, and still hate him for how he hurt you.
and for katsuki, hearing that you love him, despite everything he’s put you through, is somehow better than forgiveness.
though he is utterly flabbergasted by your words.
how you still love him is a mystery to both of you. he never wants to taste anyone else on his lips other than you. you’re the name on his lips, the chapstick he keeps in his pocket, the hoodies he puts on his pillow and the person who taught him how important heartbreak can be. he’s fucked up, and he may be the biggest fuck-up in all of japan, but this fuck-up just learned how much he loves you.
he bites his lip, not even daring to ruin the moment. he’s not sure if he’s supposed to stay or go. where does he even begin making this up to you?
but he knows what he has to say first.
“i love you too, babe.”
“oh, go fuck yourself.”
tags! 🪽
@sleepieenaps @suki0 @blue-chup @cookielovesbook-akie @ruu-https @sleepyk0dyz @poemzcheng @suksatoru @naladrawssss @theclassiccherry @sikuthealien
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