#hither hill

[moodboardmix]

Hither Hills Residence, Montauk, New York, 

Robert Young Architects,  

Interiors Meyer Davis,  

Landscape architect Steven Yavanian,  

Photographs by Michael Moran

[ofliterarynature]

JANUARY 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok DNF (reread) bookclub*]

Mammoths at the Gates • An Impossible Imposter • Greywaren • The Hexologists • Mister Impossible • Reclaiming Two Spirits • (Check, Please: #Hockey)* • Thornhedge • Call Down the Hawk • All the Hidden Paths • All the Beauty in the World • (The Raven King) • (A Strange and Stubborn Endurance) • (Blue Lily, Lily Blue) • The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie • The Missing Page • Bird By Bird • Lucky Red • Portrait of a Thief

I suppose I may as well start with the giant pile of Maggie Stiefvater and get that out of the way, lol. According to Goodreads, this was at least my 3rd time through the entire Raven Cycle. Despite that, I had only the vaguest idea of what happened in the last two books, and now having reread them (again), yeah, that tracks! I can hang with book 3 but I have no idea what was really going on in The Raven King, and as a series finale I didn't love it. It felt a lot like the dreamer plotlines drowned out the original Glendower and ley line story that we started with. But, Maggie being Maggie, I love the way she writes so much that I at least still enjoyed the reading experience. And it made an incredibly clear lead-in to the Dreamer Trilogy (which I had not read), it made total sense, I was hopeful! Again, Maggie being Maggie, I had a good time reading them, I liked learning more about the Lynch brothers, I'm always down for some art forgery, but I just didn't really like it and (while I'm glad for Maggie that she was able to write it) I could have lived without it. It completely did not have the vibe or charm of TRC and, criminally, did not include the Gangsey. How!!!!

The Missing Page - liked it! It felt a lot more solid as a mystery than the first book, which I greatly appreciated, though the villagers in the first book were maybe a bit more fun. I'm not feeling particularly inspired to go look up more Cat Sebastian after this, but if she writes another one of these I'd read it.

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie - I've had this one on my mystery tbr for a while, and for some reason I'd thought it was set in a much earlier time period than the 1950's? lol. Our protagonist is the youngest of 3 sisters growing up in genteel poverty with an absent father, and she has the run of the village, the house, and an incredibly well stocked chemistry lab left by an ancestor. She is both incredibly clever and terribly naive, and absolutely terrifying because of it. Flavia is fascinating as a detective, because she's not written as the protagonist of a middle grade mystery novel - she's a child. This was an interesting read, but I'm not sure it's what I'm looking for in a mystery novel and I don't think I'll continue the series.

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance - reread this in advance of the sequel - it was a bit easier to see some flaws this time around, but had a good time! This *was* my first time listening to it on audio though, and I'm not sure I'd recommend it. It had a different person reading for each of the main characters and their voices just didn't pair well for me - not to mention one of them also read Lev AC Rosen's Lavender House and boy does he do some distinctive character voices.

All the Hidden Paths - didn't go quite so well. I think primarily my mental space was not pairing well with the tensions of reading this for the first time, I do think on a reread I might like it better. Somehow the spy/saboteur was my favorite character? He was soo bad at his job, I found it very funny. But overall, I think it was just a little too close to a rehash of the plot from the first book, leaving me to think Meadows might not be the best at writing mysteries. Luckily it does at least score high on my romance scale.

All the Beauty in the World: The Metropolitan Museum of Art and Me - first nonfic of the year! I've been eagerly anticipating my library getting an audio copy ever since I first heard about this last year, it sounded cool, I'm fascinated by art museums and behind-the-scenes! Unfortunately I was not into it, and almost 2 months on I can't remember enough to even try to tell you why. It did pair interestingly with another recent read, The Mixed Up Files of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler, but I'm still learning how far into memoir territory I can go. Someone stop me from trying the other Met nonfic book I found recently lol.

Thornhedge - wonderful! No notes! I love fairy tales and this was a delight to read.

Check, Please! #Hockey - loved getting to revisit this for book club! I've been meaning to for a few years, because y'all. I've read so much fanfic, and I have no idea what is in the comic, what Ngozi posted as extras, and what is fanon. The comic had less than I was expecting! Still fun, my fellow book-clubber liked it, but my real love was the tweets! I'll definitely try to read Vol 2 this year so I can then browse the larger collection of them compiled in the Chirpbook.

Reclaiming Two Spirits: I saw this one on tumblr and fortunately was able to get access to the audiobook! It's a topic I was very interested in learning more about, and I did! But - this is a research project, more than anything, it could be very repetitive (which, fair. colonizers suck), and it felt distanced from its subject. I feel it's a book that definitely has its place, but it's not objectively a 'good read,' and I'd rather have had something from someone who is indigenous and two-spirit themselves.

The Hexologists - it has its quirks, but this was unapologetically a delight to read and I had a fun time! I'm a sucker for a world with a magic vs industrial revolution, not to mention a married pair of established investigators, and I always appreciate an author who's willing to get a bit silly. If there's ever more books I'd love to read them!

An Impossible Imposter - she is what she is, I had a good time! This one felt like it might have taken some inspo from The Moonstone 👀

Mammoths at the Gate - had a good time with this, as I always do with the Singing Hills books. Stories about stories are like catnip, I should reread them all sometime!

Bird by Bird by Ann Lamott (DNF) - I have only the vaguest memories of reading parts of this for a creative writing class in college, and now that I'm getting more into nonfiction thought why not? Unfortunately the audiobook version I got was read by the author, who absolutely does not have an audiobook voice/cadence. I considered trying again with the version read by someone else, but decided I wasn't actually interested enough to continue.

Lucky Red By Claudia Cravens (DNF) - the host of one of the podcasts I listen to was gushing about this one and I was like, sapphic western? Sign me up! I read about 25% of it, and it all seemed fine, it just wasn't feeling particularly interesting to me. Absolutely give it a shot if you'd like!

Portrait of a Thief by Grace D Li (DNF) - I knew going in this had been getting mixed reviews. I really like the idea of it - I enjoy a heist, am always interested in fine arts/art history drama, and vigilante art repatriation hell yeah! But this felt very much like it was trying to emulate a heist *movie*, and it just wasn’t working for me as a book. If this ever gets adapted I’d love to see it.

[sunfyresrider]

*ೃ༄SACRILEGE | AEGON II TARGARYEN

✧Synopsis. You’d been sent to Valea Zalanului, Transylvania to aid a church in desperate need of sisters of the faith. Since you arrived your faith has been constantly tested and the priest himself stirs nothing but unease within you.

✧Content. 18+nsfw ahead, Old English, vampire!priest, fem!reader, “blood letting”, confessional, provocative thoughts/dreams, vampire cult?, blasphemy, sacrilege,“father”, corruption kink, smut, m/f cunnilingus, pnv. WC. 6.3k

✧Translations. Wot- know, Gramercy- thanks, Hast- have, Hath- had, Thou - you, ‘I- in, Dost/Doth- do, Thy- your, Tis- it is, Merely- solely/only, Beray- reveal, Aye- always/ever, Ere- before

✧Note. anddddd we’re back. I haven’t been writing enough in the last few months so I am rusty. FYI the plot moves fast, this was originally just meant to be a short smut. Tags. @criticallybella @etherial-moon-blog @xylianasblog

Valea Zalanului,

Transylvania,

1480

You had been sent on a journey to join and aid in a new church far from home. A little village twenty some miles from the nearest city in desperate need for a priest and sisters of the faith. You hadn’t minded traveling the distance, albeit the chill from the soon to pass winter season made it all the harder. The town itself was even smaller than you assumed, a grandiose church sat in the middle of around thirty very simple dwellings. The wood, straw and stone was much different from the entirely stone city you were blessed to be born into.

Valea Zalanului had a certain charm about it that most large settlements lacked, natural beauty. God had taken extra time to craft the hills and forests surrounding it. Unfortunately, you’d be inside the church for most of your stay here. Which might not be a horrible thing considering many lives had been lost due to disease, a child who made it past three was considered a blessing. Not to mention the wars that raged on throughout the country.

Your heart ached with excitement at the idea of being a part of this place and helping the people who lived here.

You noticed that even though it was shrouded in beauty every face you passed seemed grim and the town itself was droll in comparison to ones you visited previously. In all honesty, and god forgive you for saying this, you’d find more cheerful faces during a funeral.

As you began to ascend the steps to the church you were immediately greeted by two sisters, one was much shorter than the other, her face soft and fresh, the other was tall and sharp. The elder seemed less pleased to greet you as she stood a distance, observing you carefully. The younger girl stepped forward and bowed slightly before taking your hands.

"Thou might not but be our new sister! welcome, I be sister Marishka, the one standing yonder is sister Aleera!” Her voice was sweet and her excitement was evident. “Pleased to compose thy acquaintance Mariska,” you smiled earnestly, “And sister Aleera.” Her eyes bore into you and you waited with bated breath for her judgment. None came, only a single nod and a knowing look to Mariska.

“Don’t let her fright thou, that little nod means she approves. Aleera is normally quite welcoming, it’s just these days hast been busy.” Your face betrayed you as it showed your surprise, the town seemed too empty to have a lot of traffic. “Truly?”

“Oh yes, many of the sisters that hast traveled hither were disappointing to say the least. Not to mention the sheer numbers of victims of war and famine that hast graced our steps… This winter hath been much worse than 'i the past.” You glanced around, observing your surroundings for all the people she spoke of but none were found. Perhaps that had all passed away while in their care or sent away for whatever reason.

A strange feeling began to creep up your spine. You could not place what it was or why it was but it was very much present. Your head whipped back to the door where Aleera was beckoning you inside, an arm wrapped around your own, paired with the brightest smile you’d ever seen. She had practically dragged you inside, gawking at the new ceiling fixtures. It grew ever darker the further you moved inside, save the one grandiose stained glass window depicting the crucifixion.

For how busy she claimed it to be, the church seemed rather empty. It felt chilled, more so than the outside and instead of oak the building was made of stone. Her chatterings were lost on you as you took it all in. There was something greatly lacking, overshadowed by a presence you could not name. It almost felt as if this building was a costume, built to resemble a sacred place. You nearly began to regret auctioning yourself to a newer place, perhaps adventure was not suited for you.

A light nudge to your waist drew you out of your stupor, gazing incredulously at Marishka. Her voice was still hushed as you turned to look upon, what you could only presume was the acting priest. He looked far younger than what you expected, messy platinum hair framing his baby-esque face. His smile was bright, yet his eyes were a stark contrast. They were drowned in a hue of violet, shrouded with a cloud of something you could not pinpoint.

His lips moved and you still could not hear, you were far too focused on how his attire was not in the proper size. “Mine mind seems to be elsewhere, please forgive me. What was it thou spoke?” He chuckled silently to himself, your disrespect of his status seemed to amuse him.

"Never fret, thy journey hath been long and i presumed thou had been exhausted. I’m father Aegon, the current and hopefully 'i the foreseeable future priest.” His accent was heavy and foreign, British, not something you had heard often. You bowed slightly, hand pressed against your chest as you greeted him.

"Mine name is-” Father Aegon waved his hand, “I wot thy name and all the important details. I’ve been 'i close communication with thy sect and we feel most blessed to hast thou” His smile felt unnerving, unusually sharp at the tips of his mouth. You could almost swear his teeth were whiter than most, though dental hygiene was not a common practice.

His eyes, on the other hand, were strange. You’d never seen such a color before nor been enchanted into gazing at them. It seemed you could become lost in the depths, if only for a moment. Your silence must have been off putting because Marshika seemed to grip you harder. “Alright, Methinks mine sister hath had too much excitement for today. I shall guide her to her chambers.” Father Aegon nodded, a silent understanding passed between them.

You struggled to find sleep after today's odd welcoming. After mindlessly reading through the weathered pages of a Bible you’ve owned since a child you blew out the singular candle in your room. You settled under the thin blanket and turned your back to the window.

The moon was full tonight. It bathed your whole room in its pale light, creating odd shadows from your belongings. Your eyes were trained on the window across the room. The howling sounds of wind began lulling you to sleep like a corrupted lullaby.

Everything will be okay, you told yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. God will guide me through this, you murmured as you finally drifted off into slumber…

The sudden feeling of your bed being weighed down stirred you awake, but when you tried to move your body became limp. You glanced up to see a figure on all four limbs climbing onto the bed, dazzling red eyes boring into yours as it moved above you. A beast, one that seemed to be plucked out of hell itself. Your blood ran cold, the pounding of your heart echoing in your eardrums as its clawed, beastly hands slowly descended upon you.

You could neither scream nor move, as if you had been held down by an invisible weight and gagged by an unknown object. Your eyes squeezed shut, praying, begging for some sort of escape. Dear Lord art in heaven, whatever sin I may have committed or performed against you, dear god have mercy on me.

A soft pair of lips touched your collarbone, kissing against your trembling skin gently. You felt the devil above you shift, the horrid hands changing into ones that carefully caressed you. Blasphemy, you thought bitterly. How could such a heinous creature use such loving, familiar gestures? And yet, the hands and lips brought a strange warmth that calmed the tense muscles in your body and eased the erratic beats of your heart.

Your eyes began to pry themselves open, a flash of silver hair just hovering in your field of view. The smell of wine and a strange hint of musk entice your senses, the image growing clearer by the second. It was not the nightmarish shape you had seen before. Instead, a beautiful, gorgeous being that lulled you to another world with his hands.

Priest Aegon? No, not him, it couldn’t be.

His kisses did not cease, instead trickled down to your collarbone. His fingers inching onto your breasts, massaging into the tender flesh. You were not in your right mind, thoughts beginning to form and protest kept slipping away. It felt too good to fight it. Surely, this man is god in disguise.

The father’s lips pressed into that of your breast, his tongue ghosting your nipple. Your breath hitched, the feeling alone almost is enough to send you into convulsions. However, you were abruptly pulled from the haze, a sharp sensation pricked at your breast. With sudden clarity you peered down to see the priest sinking his teeth into your breast.

You jolted awake, eyes flying open and hands grasping at the spot where he bit you. You were in your room, alone, but you still were reeling from the dream. You heard the soft chirping of chaffinches and the soft rustling of the leaves. The normally comforting sounds of day instead brought a sense of dread in the air, as if the nightmare that visited you had left an imprint on the atmosphere.

As you remove yourself from bed and began washing yourself in front of the mirror you noticed A thin sheen of sweat coated your brow, and when you shifted you felt an odd ache between your legs. Worry began to nestle within your chest, could the lord see your dreams? Will he know about the vile, carnal, utterly strange thoughts that came to you?

You had neither had intentions to act on anything nor the carnal desire others held. You would repent for this, pray for forgiveness and to banish the image from your mind entirely. Out of thought, out of mind, you repeat to yourself in your mind as you readied yourself.

It’s important to note each house of God has different rules, in this one they are extremely picky about who they allow to work inside. Though it was increasingly clear it desperately needed some changes. To start, proper sleeping areas and a better way to heat the stone building. Perhaps more windows as well, it was extremely dark inside, midday felt more like midnight.

Everyone had made themselves scarce after breakfast, a small meal of bread and cheese that the farmers were kind enough to provide the church. It was a Sunday which meant communion would be held later in the evening. You attempted to make yourself busy in the meanwhile traveling around the town to feel out the people, culture and whatnot. It’s very important to know whom you would be spreading the word of the lord to.

The hallways within the cathedral were dimly lit, torches lined the walls instead of the usual decorative windows. There were few people around during the day and you encountered none of them. It seemed eerily empty, lacking something you could not put a name to. The wooden floorboards creaked as you walked across them and the grandiose door made a wicked screeching noise as you pried them open.

You felt lighter as you stepped outside, you felt lighter as you stepped outside, as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders and the dust no longer filled your airways. How odd, you thought to yourself, no house of God had made you feel like that before. You shook your head, starting your venture outside the confines of your home. The sleet had turned the soil into mud and the clouds remained dreary but at least the sun was starting to peak over the distant clouds.

Without hesitation you made your way through town, taking note of the way people eyed you suspicious and the caution everyone exuded while walking around the church. A scrawny man with a scraggly beard and rotting clothes strode towards your direction, probably going to visit the single alcohol serving establishment. You decided to attempt to speak to him, “excuse me, sir?”

He seemed completely uninterested as he avoided meeting your eyes. “S-sir? Doth thou hast a instant-” The man paused in his steps, turning around to meet your face. “You’re new, aren’t thou? Shipped 'i from another country i'd wager.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glad he was willing to converse. “Only a few countries away,” you lightly jested.

He let out a sigh of disappointment, almost gazing at you with pity in your eyes. “If you’re as smart as thou sound, sister, i would turn tail and flee.” Before you could muster up the courage to ask him why, the man continued. "Aye since that priest came around everything’s been strange. Don’t say to me thou haven’t noticed aught?” You opened your mouth to return the sentiment, perhaps ask more questions, but the sound of the church bells caught you off guard, the bells signaling the start of service. The man gave you a curt nod before continuing his trek.

You nearly fell over yourself trying to walk back to your temporary home. The doors were open, though there was hardly any people inside. Just as you stepped through the threshold you heard the doors close, the heavy wood clanging together loudly and shutting you out. A sudden wave of panic hit you, instead of feeling safe locked away in the house of god, you felt panicked.

You kept your head down as you walked to the front, seating yourself farthest from the altar. You closed your eyes, readying yourself for opening prayer.

“We gramercy, our father, for that life which thou've discovered to us by jesus, thy son, by whom thou made all things, and take care of all of the world-”

The insistent pounding of your heart beat berated your eardrums, drowning out the flurry of voices around you. A part of you worried someone could read your mind, see what you saw last or heard the distrust for your church evident in your innermost thoughts. No longer did you feel pure enough to partake in any ceremony and if you could, you would flee to your chambers.

“Eternal god, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may eat 'i remembrance of the corporal agent of thy son, and witness thee, o god.”

You were drawn back to the start of the communion, realizing you must have blacked out to miss so much. It felt as if time moved differently, you could swear you had just sat down.

“Holy God, we bid thou 'i the name of thy son Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this wine to the souls of all those whom receive it. That they may posset 'i remembrance of the blood of the lord which was shed for 'em”

Father Aegon’s voices boomed and bounced against the stone walls. It resounded in your head, as if it had come from within. You watched with careful eyes as the followers of Christ walked the aisles, one by one lining up in front of him. It was your turn now to stand and retake communion, as was required of nuns who moved sects. A part of you wanted to just sit and not join the line, but the fear of being shamed was far greater than the woe.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, your muscles nearly denying your pleas to move. You felt guilt weighing down your soul, as if divine punishment was awaiting. You shuffled along, eyes casted towards the ground as you gripped your dress. The Father was looking at, you could feel his eyes as you moved forward. From the tone of his voice he appeared disinterested in every other participant. Nervously, you stepped onto the last step, his form looming over you.

Father Aegon’s eyes bore into yours as they glimmered, unnatural they were, but he would just deny the accusation. He presented the host, and carefully he placed it in your mouth. His eyes studied the way your tongue nervously peeked out of your mouth, the way your large pupils stared into his own with such innocence and devotion.

Aegon imagined you would look even better on your knees.

“The body of Christ,” he proclaimed as he studied the way your throat moved as you swallowed the host. “Amen,” you mumbled out so quietly even his advanced set of ears struggled to hear. Your eyes watched him carefully as he turned to pass the chalice of wine to you. Quite the attentive little thing you were.

A moment later, he handed you the chalice with a light smile. The golden cup was unsteady as your hands trembled for an unknown reason. A strange feeling continued to creep up your spine as you lost yourself in his gaze. Perhaps it was due to the fact you hadn’t seen a man with his appearance in your entire life. If you were allowed to think such, he could be considered devastatingly beautiful.

The liquid slipped from the chalice and into your mouth. Instead of the warmth of Christ coating your senses, you felt your throat constrict and a harsh itch causing you to choke. You nearly dropped the holy cup to the floor as you tried to force yourself to swallow, his hand caught it before it could hit the floor, eyebrows raised as he studied you closely, listening to the rapid beat of your heart.

It burned in an unfamiliar way, as if you were being poisoned, and soon the taste of the communion wine coated your mouth with its putrid flavor you weren’t used to. Panic settled in your veins as your mind raced with explanations, fear of damnation.

Aegon smiled a small, amused grin which caught you off guard. He looked deeply into your eyes, his own burning with a mix of hunger as one hand slowly rose to wipe the wine from your lip. You couldn't look away as he brought his finger to his mouth and licked the liquid away, humming lowly. “Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?”

Your breath caught in your throat as your mouth gaped in shock. This was your Lord's blood, this was a sacred ceremony. How could he say something so vulgar. Aegon cleared his throat, lazily moving his hands to make the sign of the cross. “The blood of Christ,” he spoke louder than necessary. “Amen.”

You bowed your head, fingers gripping tightly onto the hem of your dress as you scurried away. The rest of mass you sat in utter silence, your gaze casted onto the floor. What the hell was happening to you? You had accidentally disassociated throughout the rest of communion, whatever prayers and hymns were sung you did not hear. You denied Marishka’s invitation to supper, instead running straight to your room to find solace in isolation.

Sleep once again eluded you the night after communion. It did not matter how much you tossed and turned, the sheets felt suffocating and your blood burned beneath your skin. Each time you began to drift your mind wandered where it shouldn’t, thoughts you hadn’t had before crept into your subconscious. Why did you choke? You’d never done anything like that before.

It felt as if the wine itself was rejecting you, deeming you unholy and not worthy of swallowing it. That terrified you, what had you done to deserve such a punishment? Nothing, you’ve done nothing in your existence that was against neither god nor man. You sat in bed, tearing the cloth that shielded you from prying eyes. It was better, but it was not enough. You swiftly leaned over in bed, pushing the tiny window up so the cold air could enter. Finally, your lungs seemed to inhale deeper, a blanket of ice wrapping around your flesh and easing the constant heat.

Out of thought and out of mind you murmured to yourself as you laid back down, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought and out of mind, out of thought-

In your dreams you mindlessly roamed the halls, drawn to an unknown location. Through the darkness you eyed a crack in a doorway, golden light emitting into the hallways. You stalked closer, carefully angling yourself so you could peek inside without being caught. It took you a moment to recognize the sounds, quiet giggles, panting breaths, soft murmurs, and vulgar noises coming from a female. It made your skin crawl.

You could make out three figures on the lavish bed, which you noted was much more posh than your own. Their bodies intertwined around each other and fully nude. There was something strange about it, each of them were glistening as if their skin was damp with water. Quietly, you sunk to your knees, bending your neck so you could truly focus in. As your pupil dilated, your mouth gaped in shock, thank god no noise came out.

They were there, you mean, the sisters and a strange man were all there. Their skin covered in what you could only assume was blood due to the red tint and they were… coupling. Or were they devouring him? Quickly you rose to your feet, silently scurrying away to not draw attention. Your heart raced as you neared your chambers, reaching your hands out into the darkness grasping for salvation.

Your body collided with something hard, arms reaching around to blindly grab hold of it. The pale moonlight illuminated the silver locks adorning his head, violet eyes and white teeth glowing against the dark. Priest Aegon. You looked back down in shame, your eyes had deceived you. You were not in the halls, no. Instead, in his chamber.

“Are thou alright, sister?” He asked in a gentle voice, a hand resting on your cheek, caressing the warm skin. You aren’t sure why your body refused to move or why your hands refused to release their hold on him. It felt as if your blood had turned into lead, weighing you down. Your eyes trailed up to his face, purposefully avoiding the lack of clothing or cotton bottoms he adorned which hid nothing.

“I- Methinks I was sleepwalking.”

Aegon’s fingers pulled your chin up, the corner of his lip tugging into a grin. Your brain was a fog, a mist, unable to process what was happening. He was leaning in, and the smell of wine and musk blinded your sense. You felt his lips brush past your ear, a chill running down your spine.

“And thy subconscious brought thou to me. Could it be that you’ve been dreaming of me?” The words were whispered like a secret, a taboo, a forbidden thing. Aegon’s words enticed you, which they shouldn’t, it is immoral and sinful. Your heart raced at the thought, “yes,” you breathed out.

Your hand reached up to rest against his bare chest, feeling his heart thump in the same erratic pace. “I’ve been dreaming of thou too, little lamb.” A hand found its way to your neck, his lips grazing over yours as he spoke. “Each time, thou devote yourself to me merely and i consume thou wholly. Keeping thou inside me eternally.” Your stomach flipped, a tightness building in the pit of your abdomen. It was sinful, it was wrong, it was utterly obscene.

And yet you sunk further into him, lips parting and inviting him to ravish you. His hands slipped under your dress, cupping your bottom and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, his cock pressing against your sensitive region. Aegon climbed on top in a familiar way, his soft lips dancing with yours.

Your head felt fuzzy and light, the sensation of his touch overwhelming and euphoric. You lost control of yourself, abandoning the vows and purity you swore. You were so lost, consumed by lust and sin. He pressed his hips against yours, rubbing against you. Aegon’s lips trailed down your jaw, peppering kisses along your neck.

He moved away from you and for a moment you mourned his touch, yearning to have him close to you once more. You observed him with lidded eyes as he kneeled down between your thighs. He was beautiful, a divine image of an angel sent to heal you. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as your scent, little lamb.” The father muttered before pushing up the skirts of your dress, he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

The warmth of his breath tickling the most sacred area. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding them down. Aegon licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves into your body. You couldn't help but completely lose yourself to him. You never imagined such pleasure could be given, and by a man of god.

The father's tongue circled your clit, sucking on it gently. Aegon pulled away and pushed a finger inside you, a quiet gasp escaped your lips, a foreign pleasure spreading through you. He began to pump his finger in and out of you, curling his fingers, stroking a bundle of nerves that sent electricity through your body.

Your head began to spin, pleasure consuming your every thought. A pressure began to build within you, an indescribable sensation that only grew. His tongue traced intricate patterns onto your core, suckling on the sensitive bundle. ”p-please father,” you begged, though you were not sure what. Aegon chuckled and the vibrations made your eyes roll in the back of your skull. Your sense of reality had all but abandoned you, your head was stuck in the cloud as if you had ascended to heaven.

You felt your body shake and the tension in your abdomen snap. It was as if your soul was torn out of you, the euphoria so intense it was almost painful. You felt dazed, lost in a trance, and unable to move. However, as you glanced up you no longer saw your angelic priest.

Instead, a demon gazed down upon you. The beautiful face now morphed into a twisted image, fangs protruding from its jaw, and eyes glowing a sinister crimson. Its mouth opened, a forked tongue slipping out and licking a path up your thigh. Your mind started to clear, terror seeping its way in your heart, and before you could scream for help it sunk its fangs deep within the flesh.

knock knock

You jolted awake, grabbing the skin around your neck and chest as your frantic breathing cut through the silence. It was only a nightmare, you muttered to yourself. You shifted in place, feeling something cool beneath your bum. Gazing down at the creased sheets, the sight of a sopping wet spot on the cloth made your stomach churn.

knock knock knock

“Sister! Tis time to wake!” The door handle wiggled, the sound of locks echoed throughout the room. “Y-yes, sister!” Hurriedly you rushed to the water basin to try and clean off the sinful stain, but as you stood your head began to pound. It was as if a needle pricked at the backs of your eyes. To add further to the misery, an instant dizziness overtook you as your legs buckled beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground.

Horror flooded into your veins, was this a divine punishment for what happened in your thoughts? It was pure carnal desire, a disgusting and immoral craving. This was a divine warning, a sign that if you don't rectify your sins soon you will be punished. You scrambled to your feet, putting on the clothes necessary to venture to the altar and pray for forgiveness.

You flung open the door and hurried out, leaving a bewildered sister behind. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, passing a group of befuddled visitors in your wake. Tears streamed down your face as the weight of your actions began to crush you. As soon as you reached the altar seating in front of the statue of God himself you fell to your knees.

The sickness he has placed upon you was a warning, the dreams you were having were cursed. You felt as if eyes were always watching, a shadow lurking around every corner. The walls seemed to be closing in on you, the air thick with regret. You bowed your head, clasping your hands together in front of you.

You prayed on your knees every day for the next week. Each night you dreamt of him, he was a devil, a temptress pulling you into sin. You had to rid yourself of the thoughts. Each day, you would pray, and each night you would dream. Your own mind began eating itself alive, the constant fear and paranoia taking its toll on your body. There wasn’t a day in the past weeks where you did not feel exhausted or sickly.

It was only an amount of time before you fell from grace, perhaps died from stress. You have felt like an animal hiding in the skin of a holy nun. No matter how many times you scrubbed yourself, you still felt the filth from your nights. It was only a matter of time until they found out, until the others saw. It was past time you confessed to your crimes and beg the lord directly for forgiveness, you could let these ill feelings fester no longer.

You’d never had to take a confessional in your life except for when you first became a sister. Since then, you have remained in good standing. It was an awkward thing, especially since the only confessor was the priest. You knew you could tell him anything, he was the voice of god, yet a larger part of you was frightened too.

The idea of seeing him, knowing what you dreamt, was terrifying. But you had no choice, you needed to seek repentance, or else your mind would eat itself alive. As you walked to the confessional, a familiar feeling of eyes burning holes in the back of your skull followed. You begrudgingly pushed through, waltzing towards the steps of the lord. It was darker than usual, the storm brewing outside mimicking your internal warfare. The quiet cracks of distant lighting illuminating the statue of Christ, in a haunting way.

It lacked a confessional, though one was being built in the far side of the room, until the carpenter disappeared. Unfinished and unused it sat and a part of you envied it, for now you felt sullied. The soft pitter patter of footsteps approaching from the hall echoed throughout the chapel, growing closer. A lump formed in your throat, nerves eating you from the inside. You felt him kneel next to you, his head tilting to gaze at you. “Come to confess, little lamb?” His words came out in a purr. The script you had rehearsed vanished into the void and your mouth dried up. “How’d thou wot?”

Aegon raised a hand and tucked a stray hair under your veil. “I’ve taken notice of thy ailments as I hast taken notice of the lack of thy presence. I wot all that goes on inside these walls.”

“Then I suppose I hast no choice,” you sucked in a deep breath, chewing at your bottom lip. Aegon beckoned you to continue, his face laced with curiosity and understanding. “Forgive mine, Father for I hast sinned,” the words rushed out of your throat. “I hast been having dreams of late. The most intricate and vivid dreams I hast had ere. 'i mine sleepless nights I see things that I shouldn’t and doth things with thou that are deemed unholy. I betray mine God and worship only thou. ” You released the breath you were holding, awaiting his response.

He moved closer to you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Tis not wrong to worship I, his voice and his will join through me. I grant thou what he not, if only thou speak to me.” Aegon’s violet eyes gleamed, and his smile divine yet twisted. “Wouldst thou like to live eternally? Wouldst thou like to feel ecstasy?”

“What will you from me?” The words left you silently, your own voice unrecognizable to your ear. "Remove thy dress as I will guide thou thumb," His hand slipped from the veil and caressed the soft skin of your cheek, a thumb grazing your lips. His hand caressed yours, his warm touch sinking your mind further into the clouds. At first, you moved away, some semblance of sense still lingering within.

“Dost thou not desire what I giveth freely?” Aegon’s eyes were so magnetic, pulling you closer into his gravity. You could not deny him, nor did you want to. You shook your head quietly, beckoning him to continue. He guided your hands to the string lacing together your blouse, pulling them apart. One by one the threads popped, a slow and tantalizing pace. The fabric slid off your shoulders, exposing the tender skin underneath. Your heart beat flurried, some remnant of holiness trying to will you to stop. “Such beautiful skin thou hast,” Aegon murmured, his nose brushing against your neck.

A soft kiss was pressed into the side of your neck, his teeth lightly dragging along the flesh. You gasped, your eyes closing. You were lost in a fog, unable to think clearly or make rational decisions. Father Aegon guided your hands to the waist of his skirt, slowly pulling it down. Your eyes shot open, watching his cock spring free from the cloth.

The tip was a soft pink, one large vein running down the middle. You were clueless as to what to do. You felt his fingers slip under your veil, gripping onto your hair. “I will guide thy mouth,” he purred, as if he read your mind. Father Aegon stood up, “like this,” his hand guided yours, stroking him slowly.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against the tip, the skin velvety and hot. Your tongue darted out, licking his tip. You could feel him throb within your grip, his eyes glazing over with lust. Father Aegon pushed your head down, forcing the head past your lips.

His hips began to rock, pushing deeper into your mouth. It was difficult not to choke, the saliva in your mouth gathering quickly. The sounds of his pleasure were like choirs of angels to your ears, serenading you into a trance. Your jaw ached, drool dribbling down the side of your mouth and the length of him.

He pushed your head down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes welled with tears and he admired their glistening beauty. You were utterly perfect for him, he decided, a divine blessing. You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but the dull ache between your legs blinded you. A few small whimpers escaped your throat as you dropped your hand to ease the feeling between your thighs. Aegon released your head, a strand of spit connecting his cock and your lips.

Father Aegon gripped your cheek, colliding his lips with yours. He devoured you as if it was his last meal, as if your lips were the sole path to redemption. His tongue darted out, swirling around your mouth and relishing in your sweet taste. Your mind grew hazy, lack of breath making you dizzy, but you could not pull back. You had desired his touch more than you have ever before.

You whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of his body pressed against yours was indescribable. His firm hands gripped your waist, pushing you on the ground. “Thou look so ethereal underneath me,” he panted out in between breaths. “Wouldst thou like to feel me inside thee.” Aegon rubbed his cock against your heat, your juices coating him.

“P- please Father, I need thou,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his torso pulling him closer. “Needy little lamb, aren’t thou?” His cock pressed into, slowly stretching you to fit him. You let out a moan, a sound you didn’t know you could make. Your fingers found their way into his dress shirt, gripping onto him as he pushed himself inside you.

“Confess sister, how did you allow me to defile you,” he thrusted inside you, filling you completely. You could not think straight, his cock hitting the bundle of nerves that made you squirm. “Confess,” he beckoned before he began slipping himself out of you. “N-no I confess,” you whimpered. Aegon began to slam back into you, a rhythmic pace that made you see stars.

“I- I confess father, I let thou defile me, I dream of thou fingers inside m-” Aegon suckled on your ear, “more,” he growled. “I- I- I dream of your tongue bringing me p- pleasure- every night.” He thrusted into you harder, the sounds of his cock slamming inside you echoing.

He was a god, a divinity sent to bring you to madness and bliss. Aegon had bewitched you body, mind, and soul as you him. “I dreamt thou devouring me,” you screamed out, your legs shaking. Aegon grabbed your hips, digging his nails into the skin to keep you in place. “Wouldst thou like to stay with me forever?” The father’s hips snapped as he pushed deep inside, his cock pulsating. You could feel him inside your womb, his hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel himself.

Your head spun as the coil inside you began to unwind, the intensity of ecstasy blurring your being. “Y- yes Aegon,” you whimpered out, tears welling in your eyes. His thrusts began to stutter, his pace faltering. Your cunt tightened around him,the muscles in your stomach clenched as a wave of pleasure began to overcome you. “Dost thou swear thyself to me forever,” he whimpered.

“Aegon!” you screamed out, eyes fluttering open. The coil in your stomach snapped, eyes widening moments before you saw his fangs sink into your neck…

[dcangel]

can you do another stiles smut?

Thinking about road head with stiles...

Stiles was the one who gave you those eyes; the kind that you do a double take at from across the room when you were with the pack, already onto the third night in a row of trying to figure out the mysteries of the latest supernatural threat.

But why would you even think to question it? Right now the rest of the pack thought you two had left because you simply told them you were tired and couldn't think straight—but that might've been because stiles was occupying your mind.

You hopped in the passenger seat and thought it was going to be a quick ride to his house—his dad had yet another late night shift thanks to the disappearances that certain people seemed to know more about than others—but when you realized you weren't on those familiar roads, you started thinking. Was stiles going to take you to the lookout point that overlooked beacon hills?

Honestly, it wouldn't surprise you if he just pulled over to have you on the side of the isolated back roads. It wouldn't be the first time you two went at it in the Jeep, you just felt bad for your friends with heightened senses that might've smelt the lingering aroma.

He didn't put his hand on your thigh like usual, not until you grabbed his hand and innocently intertwined your fingers did he pull away after pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand and rest his on the exposed skin of your thigh. Innocent enough, right?

Wrong. You couldn't have been anymore wrong. It didn't take long for his fingers to slide up the smooth skin, the side of his pinky and palm rubbing your jean-clad heat. Each time his knuckle nudged you in just the right spot, your hips twitched — more like bucked.

And it took even less time for you to unbutton them, his fingers soon pumping in and out of the wetness he smiled at when he felt it through your panties. Neither of you had even said a word, just small huffs that could be separated into either a laugh or a muffled moan, of course you were the one tallying up the latter category.

His index and middle fingers curled upward in come hither motions while his other hand remained on the wheel. He would've loved to see your face; the way you chewed your bottom lip, eying his hand and the way his fingers disappeared inside you before you threw your head backward against the head rest. Good thing the road was empty, because he may or may not have driven over the double yellow lines a few times.

You noticed the way his hips shifted a bit uncomfortably, but he hadn't said anything. At first, you thought that maybe he was a little uncomfortable with you, but you somehow hadn't found the bulge he was readjusting every now and then — leaving none of his hands to steer the wheel.

You didn't want to stop his rhythmic movements, especially since you had just started to feel a little something building now, but at the same time you also got your pleasure from pleasing him. You appreciated that stiles wasn't needy in the sense that when he was pleasing you he would stop and tell you it was his turn because he couldn't wait any longer.

Instead, he never said anything about it and as far as you knew, he didn't even think about it—having said so to you multiple times before.

But that didn't mean stiles was never needy, because stiles knew how to be needy and whiny in just the right ways to get whatever he wanted from you, and you'd easily comply.

"Stiles... wanna touch you." You breathed out, unaware that these are some of the first words spoken since you two got in the Jeep together.

"You are." He pressed his fingers upward in a pulsing motion, stifling a laugh at his own humor.

You rolled your eyes, at first you started to because of his bad joke, but they rolled further back at the feeling of his fingers pressing that spot inside you. "No, just—stiles, please..?" You said in that tone. That airy, whiny tone that sounded like your every word contained a soft moan of its own; the one that had him biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about fighting it, but knowing he'd give up eventually, so he just allowed himself to cut straight to the chase.

He gave your cunt if few more quick, harsh pumps and when he pulled his fingers back for what you thought would be another one, he didn't thrust them back in. Your body missed the touch, but your mind left no time to process as you had already unbuckled and leaned partially over the center console. Your ribs leaned against the edge while your elbow propped you up.

Reaching your other hand over, you saw as stiles watched you-rather, your hand—with quick glances between the road and your dainty fingers trailing over the already-strained bulge in his jeans. When you looked up at him, he licked his lips out of nervous or anxious habit, but said nothing as he fixed his gaze on the pavement ahead.

Like stiles, you wasted no time pulled the zipper down and unbuttoning them and opening the fly. Because of his seated position and the obvious lack of ability to move due to the need to maintain at least a few rules of the road and get you both home safe, he couldn't just lift his hips like every other night and allow you pull the denim down.

Slowly, as his wriggled his hips more-albeit unintentionally-his dick had formed a tent in his boxers. You didn't have the patience for teasing or talking things slow, and judging by the sighed moan he let out when you placed a palm on his covered shaft, neither did he.

Your dainty fingers quickly reached under his boxers, finding what they wanted easily. You looked up at him, only your eyes, not tilting your head up at all. You were entranced by him, all of him. The way his brown eyes were wide and his pupils were blown with lust, the way his pale freckled skin had a reddish hue settled on it, the way his short, brown, fluffy hair started to stick to his forehead from the thin coat of sweat.

You liked his current state, but you wanted to make a mess of him. Your hand guided his length from his boxers, freeing him from the confines of the restricting fabric. Your thighs clenched, and you bit your lip.

As soon as your hand touched him, he groaned. Your hand was warm and light on his skin. He mumbled out your name as you began to slowly stroke him.

You turned your body to face him more; the front of your thighs pressing against the center console while your knees situated on the gap between the seat and the center console. Luckily for you, your hair was already tied back. You bent down and placed a kiss on his tip, your lips leaving with a small coating of wet, salty warmth from his precum. Your tongue poked out and cleaned them, also grazing his pink tip.

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was even humanly possible to focus on the road while you went down on him. The way the flat of your tongue dragged up his (almost) painfully hard cock alone was making his hips gyrate, his foot heavy on the excelerator as his lower back arched lightly.

You wrapped your lips around his swollen head, sucking gently as your tongue licked and swirled around the sensitive skin like a lollipop. Unbeknownst to you, one of his hand left the wheel and gentle wrapped around the back of your neck, finding its place from muscle memory. His thumb pressed against the corner of your jaw, right below your ear, from behind, gently coaxing your head downwards.

You complied, slowly taking him in your mouth as your saliva dripped down the rest of his length, as well as your chin. You couldn’t fully get all the way down, because, despite your gag reflex not being as bad as it used to be (thanks to stiles,) you still coughed when his tip nudged your uvula.

The vibrations made his cock twitch, his head falling back momentarily before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. Thank god it was empty tonight.

He must’ve been driving in circles around the outskirts of town, because by the time you had familiarized yourself with his dick hitting the back of your throat, stiles could’ve came right then and there. The tip of your nose nestled against the trimmed patch of curls at his base as you let yourself adjust, hoping you wouldn’t gag again.

Your tongue was flat; pressed against the side of his cock and the bottom of your mouth. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nostrils, you slowly began to move up and down.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “faster.”

You obeyed, bobbing your head up and down quicker. You felt his large hand ravel in your hair, his fingers pressing on your head when he wanted you to take him deeper.

Your eyes watered, your vision becoming blurred, but you literally could not care less. You knew stiles would flip out if he saw your misty eyes, one; because he was constantly weary of accidentally hurting you, and two; once he knew you were okay, he was covertly hooked on seeing you look up at him with glossy doe eyes.

You felt the jeep suddenly speed up, sending your head back and hitting his stomach from the acceleration.

“Shi—Sorry, fuck… just like that.” He murmured, his thumb rubbing across the nape of your neck. You pulled your lips up, leaving them around the swollen tip of his pulsing cock. You knew exactly how to drive him crazy, and he knew it too.

You kissed and licked his tip, sucking lightly in ways that made his eyes roll back and caused him to forget that he was behind the wheel.

the tires trembled on the rumble strip rooted in the double yellow lines, suggesting that the jeep had crossed to the wrong side of the road. you hummed around him at the shaking, making his fingers thread through the hair at your nape, tugging at the soft strands.

suddenly, his attention was brought back to the endangering scenario by the wail of a horn coming from another car. you jumped, letting out a small squeal on his length before reflexively lifting your head. your skull met his forearms that were outstretched in an iron grip on the wheel. his knuckles turning white while he yanked the vehicle to the right, passing the left side tires back over the double yellows. the two cars’ tires produced equal squeals on pavement as they straightened out.

scooting back, you worked your way from under his arms and mostly back into your seat, leaving his neglected cock struggling with the loss of pleasure.

“m-maybe we shouldn’t… do this on the road.” he’d paused to look to you between words.

you hastily nodded. “yeah, no.”

nevertheless, your eyes found his swollen length. “i’m definitely not leaving you like that.”

his teeth scraped at his cheek to conceal a whimper, but it left in the form of his hips shifting. “o-okay.”

[geopsych]

Out through the fields and woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,

Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow

While others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch hazel wither.

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feet question, “Whither?”

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?

—-Reluctance, by Robert Frost, with pictures from this morning’s walk.

[the-kr8tor]

He Beckons

Pairing: fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), TW blood, CW injury, CW gore, TW death, CW body horror, CW arachnophobia.

The Fall Masterlist

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PART II >>> PART III

Your mind almost breaks trying to comprehend everything all at once. It all screams at you, at the same time the quiet deafens your ears.

The first thing you've noticed is the wind, or the lack of it. There's no leaves rustling in the wind, no howling from the harsh blow of it; like it's forbidden for the wind to come inside, it stills, forever lingering outside. The air is stale, everything around you seems to be stuck in time. Idle and waiting for something that will wake them again.

Is this a dream?

Slowly moving your head to look over your shoulder, frightened, knees threatening to give out from the fear of the unknown.

Not knowing what's behind you is much more terrifying than bracing yourself to be braver and just look.

With trepidation, you dare look behind.

You feel like lighting has struck you dead on. Feeling it curl from your fingertips up to your heaving chest. It stops where your heart is, for a second you feel it stop beating, blood coagulating inside, choking and killing your body. But your soul, your soul has never felt more alive. You feel it lifting away from you in glee, fingers reaching out to him in a way you couldn't control. Then it snaps back to you like a taut rubber band. Life returns to you in a second, eyes adjusting to the light, you take all of him in all his glory.

Him.

Human in all physicality yet primordial in nature. He takes your breath away, skin smooth, free from any imperfections, glistening in the light like polished copper. Standing tall, his hand beckons you over in a come hither gesture. Arms covered in fine webs, more beautiful than any jewel you've ever seen. You don't move, still as a rock. He tilts his head at your defiance.

His torso in full display, save for a singular vine placed horizontally on his chest, its leaves mirroring the ones clinging onto the estate's walls. Muscles prominent under the deep green of his cloak, collar reaching up to his neck, its edges stop right under his jawline. It's pinned together by a blood red spider frozen in time, holding it willingly just for him. His unusually tall stature sends shivers down your spine. He towers over you, height far too tall for a human to have.

Sauntering over to your frozen state, your eyes drift over to his legs, the entirety of his lower body is covered in tree bark. With every foot step, he leaves wild flowers in his wake. Small, colorful and something that's not of this world.

Your lungs seem to forget how to breathe with how he looms over you, casting a long shadow, blanketing your entire body. He faces you towards him with just his pinky atop your shoulder, it's enough to send electricity right through you.

"I asked you, it's rude not to answer" there's a deep rumble in his chest, almost like a purr after he notices you bravely staring deep into his eyes.

Gold swirls in his eyes like an ocean wave, you feel like drowning in its waters.

Eyes shifting down, you see him smirk, tiny vines and leaves dance under his skin. Moving and breathing like a living thing in itself. His face looks like it was chiseled by the Gods themselves, fine marble cut to perfection.

He takes your chin in between his fingers, lifting it slightly so you could look into his eyes once again. You see something dark shift in his stare, swallowing a lump in your throat, you feel his searing gaze on your neck as it bobs up and down. His scent enters your senses, he smells like morning dew over a hill after rain poured over it overnight. Flowers, you surmise, mixes in with the scent. From his touch to his narrowed gaze, it overwhelms your very being.

Not a dream.

You feel something stirring inside your gut instead of just fear. Excitement perhaps? Or is it your mind playing tricks? Whatever it is, it's pushing you towards him like a puppet on strings.

"Are you alive in there?" There's cotton in your mouth. "Do you even have a tongue?"

With a shaky breath, you speak. "I have a tongue"

Pointed ears perk up at the sound, you notice the chip on the shell of his right ear. Thorns piercing the skin decorate his ears.

"She speaks" He lets go of your skin, stepping back to take you in. Flicking his eyes back to your face, he smiles in satisfaction.

With measured steps, cloak dragging across the grass. His eyes never leave yours as he rounds over a long table full of sweets and wine inside intricate glass pitchers.

Was that always there?

Sitting down at the head of the table, a tall chair made of marble with moss and engraved spiders decorating it. The large weeping willow looms over the entire table, providing shade from the mysterious sunlight. He gestures for you to sit right next to him. Your knuckles tighten as you fight with yourself.

Will you oblige?

Better judgment wins this round, you gawp at him like an animal cornered by a hunter. Afraid that if you lift your gaze from him for a second, he'll appear right in front of you and devour you whole.

"Who are you?" Your question echoes in the glade, you feel a blade of grass kiss your leg.

"Y'know I could ask you that myself, you're the one who barged in, hm?" He leans on the table, hand placed on his cheek nonchalantly. "May I have your name?" The sentence whispers right into your ears.

A trick, You purse your lips from forming your name.

He clicks his tongue after a beat of your silence. "Fuckin' hell, you're not very good at talking, huh?" His words are weirdly human, sounding like someone you would have encountered anywhere.

"I'm not giving you my name" knitting your eyebrows together, you briefly flick your eyes over to a dilapidated arch in the far right corner. You're sure that's the exit from this dreamscape.

Smiling, webs form around his arm right in front of your eyes. Nails as dark as death and sharp as a knife scratches at his cheek.

You've had enough of his charade, you lunge at the arch, running as fast as you can. Barely making it, your body stands still right in front of it.

"What–?" Your feet feels like it's stuck in a rat trap, unable to keep running. Looking down with a gasp, you see sticky webs cling to your jeans, tightening around your ankle, threatening to cut off blood flow.

"Not what you think it is, love. Trust me you're better off here" he moves his legs over to the arm rest, his back lounging over to the other. His hand absentmindedly stirring at the tea cup on his lap.

You yelp when a web pinches your skin. "You can't keep me here" bravery helps enunciate your words.

"'m not tryin' to, you're free to go. Didn't invite you in, remember? A bit rude of you, innit?" He drinks loudly from his cup, watching your face contort from pain into anger.

"Give me your name and I'll tell you mine" you seethe.

He laughs loudly, a booming sound like thunder clapping. "Shit, you've got some cobblers on you, tell you what." He sits up, throwing the delicate tea cup over his shoulder, it bounces right on the grass with a thud. "I'll say mine, just because I like anger on you better than fear" he winks, tilting his head, placing his hand over his chest.

"Got a lot of names but I prefer Hobie the best." He points with his long finger at you still stuck on the ground. "Now, your turn"

"Release me first," you say through gritted teeth. "Hobie"

He exhales at the sound of your voice uttering his name, lashes fluttering close for a split second. "'m not the one doin' that, placed that there just in case people like you decide to run into that entrance. Just like I said before, not good for either of us"

Hobie waves his hand, and just like that, the webs dissolve at your feet, releasing you. He waits with a tap of his nails over the wooden table.

"My name's–" you stop yourself, what will happen if you actually tell him your name? Will you get stuck here? Breathing heavy, you spot clovers growing on the foot of his chair. You've got a better chance with a lie.

"Clover, name's Clover"

"Well, clever Clover." He stands up to his full height, all seven feet of him. A large spider crawls over his chest. Alarm bells start ringing in your head. "What are you doin' here?"

Slowly craning your neck up to meet his eyes, you stop breathing while his stare bores a hole right through you, like a God looking down at his acolyte.

"I'm looking for a dog" you say in a small voice, toes clenching inside your trainers. Previous bravery gone.

"You're not gonna find her here" tilting his head, he picks up a stray leaf that fell right on your shoulder. Hobie twirls it in-between his fingers, noticing your slightly shaking form. "Are you afraid?"

Your neck aches, muscles shaking under your head. "No"

A half lie in itself, you're afraid of the uncertainty, not of the being before you. There's a strange familiarity between you, something you can't quite name.

"That's the difference between you and me, I can't lie." Grumbling, he crushes the leaf in his hand. "Trust me, dog's not here" Hobie brushes his knuckles over to the smooth skin of your cheek.

You flinch back but you stand your ground. "Did you take her?"

"What would I do with that dog?" Narrowed eyes, he chuckles darkly.

Still toe to toe with the otherworldly being, you even out your breathing, "Where is she then?"

Hobie shrugs, "dunno" he turns around, making his way back to his seat. "Why don't you sit down and have a cup with me?" Tempting, the sweet fragrant smell of grapes beckons you over.

You scoff, ignoring the temptation. "No, I'm leaving" you walk towards the arch again.

Lighting fast, Hobie takes you by your arm, wind rushes past you with how quick he moved.

"Don't. Do. That." His voice booms like a gong signaling your own death. There's a storm raging behind his eyes. Yet your body and soul flutters in his hold.

He steals your breath, eyes angrily looking behind you, at the dilapidated arch, the most normal thing in the entire glade. The wind whispers past your ears, listen, girl.

Guiding you away, his hold on you tender yet stifling. Hobie sits you down on one of the chairs whilst you watch him closely, looking for a sign that he might start attacking you with his claws. Instead of striking you down while he has you in his grip, he folds his knee, kneeling before you. Cloak pooling around his feet, drowning in green. Now leveled with your gaze, Hobie's eyes soften, releasing his touch over you.

"Don't go over there, that's not the way out" his voice soft, concerned and full of fondness. Without a second thought, he takes your hands, cupping each one in his large ones, avoiding his sharp nails from scraping your palms. Weirdly enough, you let him.

The ache in them wanes for only a moment.

Your heart pounds under your ribcage. "I need to get out of here" leaning over, you stare deeply into his eyes, pleading. Perfect eyes swirl into brilliant brown, liquid gold mixing within the pools.

As if waking from a trance himself, Hobie lets your hands go quietly, only lingering over to your fingertips for a brief second. You feel the history under his calloused fingers. He stands up, looming over you once again. Gold glimmering in his sockets, mouth agape. Face full of hidden loneliness.

Wordlessly, he puts both his hands over to the chair's armrest, your breaths mixing together in harmony. Then he pushes the chair over, and like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, you fall.

Darkness once again envelopes you.

Back hitting the moist grass, you sit up by your elbows. The sun slowly setting, the heavens above cries as large droplets of rain fall harshly on your skin.

Gasping, you return to reality. "What the fuck?" Your voice merely a whisper against the loud pelting. Eyes fighting to stay open whilst water spray on your face, you find yourself back on the edges of the woods.

A thick mist covering it all, hiding behind the curtains as it draws back down over the woods.

Not a single tree or blade of grass can be seen from the outside. You only hope Nellie's alright inside.

Standing up from the wet soil, you groan, trying to get your foot out of the mud. You take a deep breath, hands shaking from what transpired. His face stamped permanently in your brain like a song you can't get rid of, repeating over and over again.

—

The rain knocks roughly against the windows, fogging up the glass as you sit on the alcove. A stark difference from the marble chair you were on just a few hours ago. The warm cup tethers you back to reality, scalding hot on your bandaged hands.

Watching over the woods, your brows knit together, trying to recall what just happened to you. It seems like you've found yourself in a folk story, a story where parents tell their children so they stay away from the dark woods. Either that or the isolation is getting to your head already. But you doubt it, you've always been alone, so called friends ignoring you once they get what they've wanted from you. Exes leave you high and dry just before anything could get serious enough. It's safe to say you're used to being alone, used to your voice being unused for months on end. But you can't help feeling like life has passed you by.

That's why you took this job, because you're naturally a solitary person; even though you don't admit that it gets lonely sometimes and the silence at the end of the day makes you weep for the life unlived. It gets worse with every passing birthday you've celebrated alone in your home, there's a longing, a hole in your heart that you can't find anything to fill it with. You thought this job would be it, if people can't provide it, why not a change in career, right? You thought if you did a good enough job, Mr. O'hara would hire you permanently. Well, that's down the drain until you find his dog, wherever Nellie is right now.

Once the rain stops and the ground solidifies, you'll make your way back to the edge of the woods to try and get her back home. Until then, you'll sleep and rest. She's just fine, she probably knows the woods better than anyone.

As the night drags on, your eyes grow heavy, back sliding down on the cushion to sleep. Folded in half, you succumb to the sandman's call. Drifting, you hear fabric moving behind you.

"Hi"

You flinch back from the whisper in your ear, their breath tickling the shell of it. Yelling in surprise as you glimpse someone running outside your room, blue cloth whizzes past the hallway in a flurry. Feet skittering, a giggle making your heart skip a beat in fear.

"H-hey! You're not supposed to be in here!" Your socked feet hit the icy floors, cold seeping inside the fluffy material. Running after the culprit, you almost slip and fall over the handrail, vertigo almost making you sick as you look over the first floor. Your head turns towards the sound of thudding feet on the spiral stairs.

Following the sound from above, you spot the intruder standing on the stair landing. Dark curls in a neat ponytail, staring blankly ahead.

Your breath hitches in your throat as she looks up. Her smile marred by blood coagulating inside her mouth, empty eye sockets gazing up. Gasping, you fall to your knees, hiding yourself from her petrifying gaze. The wood scratches at your already injured hands, blood seeping out from the gauze.

She giggles again, running out of the house, she yells excitedly, "come find me!"

Your palms turn clammy, goosebumps erupt over the once smooth skin. Her small voice echoing in your mind like a siren calling you over. Despite better judgment, you stand up from your position, running after her in an attempt to stop the incessant ringing in your ears.

Busting the doors wide open, wild wind enters the abode, pushing you back inside. Your eyes sting, fighting the stabbing air with your arm protecting your face.

With a blink she appears right in the middle of the open field, the tall grass dancing at her feet. Nonexistent eyes watching you. Different voices call out to you in whispers. Both warnings and temptations.

"Run away" "Please help" "Come here" "Enter" "don't take her!" "beware" "Be wary, be wary, be wary, be wary" "My baby!" "Where is he?" "Don't be like her" "Listen to the wind, girl" "over and over and over" "tis not a place for you" "Punished" "Worse things" "turn around" "let me in!"

"I'm right here"

They overlap with each other, screaming louder whilst you fight off nature. The girl raises her arms for you, veins blue, thorns protruding out of her skin, ichor once again drips down on the grass, staining the entire field. A sea of blood red sways wildly in the gust of wind.

Your feet are swallowed by mud, hindering you from reaching the girl. You continue on, treading through the muck. You have no idea why but your mind is telling you she begs for your help, and only you could provide it.

Struggling, legs aching, the thick sludge slowly swallowing your bottom half, now rising up to your thighs, it's cold and prickly on your skin.

"Hang on!" You scream through the noise. The pained howls of the dead get louder and louder as you try to reach her. The mud now up to your chest, crushing your lungs. "Almost there!"

Your fingertips graze her palms, sighing in relief, the soil now clinging to you like second skin. "I've got you!"

Just before you take a hold of her, she suddenly gets flinged back towards the woods, into the dark void while you listen to her screams.

"No!" Your cry is muffled by dirt choking you, tongue tasting the bitterness, iron filling your lungs. The ground devours you whole, shouts silenced. Your hand only remains over the soil that has hardened. Burying you alive, suffocating, fingers stiff, twitching for a minute before you join the dead.

You wake up gasping for air. Body almost falling off the alcove. Coughing, you can still taste the earth on your tongue.

On wobbly legs, vision tilting, heart pounding, you run towards the bathroom, your hip landing painfully on the door. You're sure it'll bruise.

You don't even bother turning the lights on, feeling for the sink, hand sliding along the cold walls, memory guiding you towards it, you don't waste time opening it when the cool metal hits your bandaged palms.

You guzzle water directly from the faucet, trying to get the disgusting taste out of your mouth. Coughing violently, you finally get rid of the lingering taste with a final spit. Splashing cold water on your sweaty face, the warm water sticking to your lashes, you blink awake.

"Fuck" you watch the water swirl around the drain inside the basin. Evening out your breathing, you look in the mirror.

Instead of pristine tiles, the woods appear behind you, with every blink, glowing eyes materialize, staring relentlessly at you in between trees. Something else watches you, an ominous presence hiding amongst the benevolent ones. A shadow reaches out, clawed hand encircling your neck.

With a quick movement, you flip the light switch open. You're back inside the opulent bathroom, body shaking in fear.

"Not real, not real" you tell yourself whilst blinking back tears. "Not real"

—

Your hand tightens around Nellie's food bowl filled with dog food, it's been a full day since you went outside, too anxious to even look out the window. Yet you stand on the large porch, staring daggers at the soil. Your dream still frightens you, seemed too real for your brain to just come up with it. You can still feel the sludge choking you and the girl's bloodstained hands calling you over.

With an uneasy step, you stand on the moist ground. Sniffing from the cold, you shake the bowl, calling out to Nellie. Roaming around the estate, careful not to go over the edge of the woods this time, you find yourself standing outside the family mausoleum. The large concrete doors wide open, inviting you in.

The single skylight allows sunlight to filter through, highlighting the farthest center tomb, its engraving almost illegible from the wear and tear of time. A carved rose lay on top of the marble, its stem snapped right in the middle. Twin inverted torches sit on either side, guarding the person in their eternal rest.

You can't look away, the headstone seems to get closer and closer to you the longer you observe.

"Fuck no" backing away, you shake your head. "Nellie! Come girl before I lose my goddamn mind!" Your voice is carried by the wind.

You have an urge to go to your car and drive home, alas you've signed a contract, leaving now will definitely get you sued.

The sun slowly sets in the horizon, still no sign of the border collie. The cold freezes your bones, breath creating clouds with every yell of Nellie's name. You sit on the steps of the porch, dejected, huffing while shaking Nellie's blue bowl.

"I'll never find that dog like this" going back inside, fighting a sneeze creeping up your nose. You drop her bowl haphazardly on the floor, tin clanking on the floor, spilling dog food.

The metal necklace lay untouched on the counter, you have an idea but you don't like it one bit.

With a shaky breath, swallowing your fear, you take the necklace, closing the clasp around your neck. "I'm stupid and I'm gonna die" opening the fridge, you take a carton of milk and a jar of honey. "Can't fucking believe I'm doing this. This is stupid and I'm talking to myself."

Even with your mind full of apprehension, you find yourself outside, feet tethering off the edge of the woods. Armed with a torch, spool of thread and a bag full of milk and honey, you venture forth into the growing dark.

"Nellie!" Frustrated, you yell.

The light from your torch searches the ground for any signs of Nellie. Eyes flitting back and forth from the ground to the tree where you've tied a red string to its low branches. You're not getting lost this time.

"Nellie–!" You suddenly get flinged back, landing hard on the grass. Hobie looks down at you with a look you can't decipher. "Oh shit"

"You shouldn't scream in the woods, love. Something else might find you first"

"Like you?" You aim your frustration at him, regretting it almost immediately.

"Good thing I was first then, hm? There are worse things in these woods than me." With a helping hand, he reaches down for you. "Well?"

With a grunt, you hold his hand, not missing the familiarity of his skin against yours. Your heart beats loudly at the contact. Tugging you up effortlessly, his hand lingers for a second as if savouring the connection.

"I need your help," noticing his smaller stature, still taller but more human than before, you don't mention it. "Please"

"Blunt as always" turning his back, he saunters over back to his chair. You spot daisies stitched on his cloak, noticeably not a part of the original design.

"Can you help me find her, please. I'm worried"

"Worried about her or worried that you'll get in trouble for losing her" he raises an eyebrow.

"Both, she's a good dog, she doesn't deserve to get lost in these woods. And not losing my job helps too" you bravely take a step forward, the edge of the long table bumps your bruise.

"She's not the one who's lost" Hobie stares at you intensely, you stand on opposite sides of the table, watching eachother, learning and acquainting with every twitch of muscle and exhale.

Hastily taking out your offerings, the carton of milk sloshing as you place it on the table, the jar of honey banging loudly on the wood.

"Will this be enough?"

You jump back ever so slightly when he laughs loudly. A thunder strike sounded out. Slapping his knee, doubling over in his chair.

"What?" Hobie wipes a tear, chuckling through his words. "Milk and honey, really? Where'd you learn that?"

"Stories" you stand confused, finger playing with your bandages.

"From what? The thirteenth century?"

"Maybe" you say in a small voice, humiliated by the otherworldly being laughing at your face. Mumbling out quietly, "you probably don't even know what year it is"

"Tell you what," Hobie leans forward on the table, arms crossed over the other, lips curled into a smile. "I'll help you, for a price of course"

"If you want my first born you'll be waiting for awhile"

"Not that" he shakes his head.

The anticipation thrills you, ears waiting for what he asks.

"Just a thank you from you is all I need"

You blink in surprise, a second after that, realization hits you. "Oh" you're already thinking of a way to deceive the deceiver.

"Deal?" Hobie tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

"Only if she comes back home" you lay the condition. "Alive and well"

"'course and she will" he sits up comfortably.

"Deal"

He hums in satisfaction, "Sleep and old Nellie will be back" with those words, Hobie waves his hand, taking you back on the estate grounds.

Landing on your chest, the ground greets you once again. You groan out in annoyance. "Will you stop doing that?!"

You swear the wind laughs at you.

—

You wake up with slobber all over your face. Nellie standing on your bed, tail wagging happily once your eyes open.

"Nellie! Holy shit!" You hug her neck, nuzzling her wet fur. "Oh you're so dirty! Where have you been, old girl?" Petting her, she barks in reply.

"Yeah? You okay?" You scan her for injuries, finding none, relief finally washes over you. "Guess I have to thank him now, huh?"

Nellie sticks out her tongue, tilting her head in question.

"You hungry? Come on!" You and Nellie race each other downstairs.

—

"Hobie? I'm here to hold up my end" you wander the woods, fingers looped around the thread. "Hello?"

You hear shambling in the distance, chains rattling, rotting flesh fills your nostrils.

"Augh" covering your nose with your jumper sleeve, you continue calling out for Hobie.

Long arms appear behind you, enveloping your entire body. Your scream gets cut off with his large hand over your mouth, nails digging into your skin, leaving indents.

You're back in his abode, eyes looking up at his furious glare towards the pained moans. His arm protectively around your waist, you can feel his tensed body behind you; the spider on his cloak gazes down upon you, legs twitching at the sight of you.

The sounds finally fade after a moment, Hobie takes his hand away from your lips, turning you to face him, you find an angry slash on his chest with an identical one on his palm.

Without thinking once again, you take his injured hand. "What happened?"

"Necklace, don't mind that." He takes his hand back to his side. "Didn't I tell you to stop yelling in the woods?"

You ignore his question "What was that?"

"Something worse than me" he brushes his knuckles over the indentations he left on your skin. "You came back" you don't flinch away.

"We had a deal. I'm here to hold my end"

"Everything comes back here eventually" his eyes glazed over, Hobie fixes your collar, fingers grazing on your neck, he doesn't mind the sting from the metal. He comes back to his usual self, taking a precise step back. "What do we say then?"

"I-" his eyes shine knowingly. "I appreciate the help, Hobie"

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Clever as ever" you dance around each other like a well choreographed waltz.

"I am, aren't I?" You smile at your own ingenuity.

"You are." He copies your smile, hiding sadness behind it all. "Go home, Clover"

There's a sick longing in you. Biting and gnawing your insides, you have no idea if it's him doing this to you or there's something else making you feel this way.

"Will I see you again?" You blurt out, surprising yourself.

"Can't stop you, do what you want" Hobie once again turns his back to you. “You do know what I am, right?”

“Yes, you're an elf right?” you joke, earning a deep chuckle from him. Beaming at Hobie, satisfied with his reaction, you clear your throat. "Alright" you bid goodbye.

He looks over his shoulder, "Call my name in the woods and I'll send you back here" your heart soars at his comment. "Just don't yell it next time, not in that context anyway"

Hobie snaps his fingers just before you could reply back a quip. You land more softly this time. Eyes bright, looking up at the orange sky with a fond smile.

—

Once the dishes are cleaned, Nellie is fed and asleep, all surfaces dusted, doors locked, you lay on the soft bed, mind still reeling from the past events. The canopy swirls in your tired vision, making your eyes slowly shut close to slumber.

You dream of him that night, vision warbling, noises muffled like you're underwater. He looks at you with a youthful smile, head tilted, waiting, dying for you to answer back. Hobie looks almost the same, yet his eyes sparkle with anticipation, no longing underneath.

The air is warm and comfortable like a welcome embrace from a loved one, none of the biting cold that you're used to. Carnations and poppies dance without a care in the world.

Instead of the growing familiarity of the glade, you stand on a hill in the middle of the woods with him leaning on a large oak. Your long cotton skirt brushing along your legs, fingers clutching on the puff of your long sleeves, corset tight on your ribcage, his face stealing what little breath you have.

"I asked you, it is rude not to answer"

Your mouth moves on it's own, "My name is–"

A/N: sorry this update took so long 😔 ms rona was kicking my ass. Thank you for reading!

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

peoples of middle-earth ❖ the falathrim

“But great was the grief of Ossë when Ulmo returned to the coasts of Beleriand, to bear [the elves] away to Valinor; for his care was for the seas of Middle-earth and the shores of the Hither Lands, and he was ill-pleased that the voices of the Teleri should be heard no more in his domain. Some he persuaded to remain; and those were the Falathrim, the Elves of the Falas, who in after days had dwellings at the havens of Brithombar and Eglarest, the first mariners in Middle-earth and the first makers of ships.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, “Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalie”

[ID: A picspam comprised of 12 images in shades of blue and golden brown.

1: Gulls flying in a hazy sky / 2: Cambodian houses on stilts in the sea / 3: Ripples in clear water / 4: White text reading “falathrim” in all caps on a dull blue background. The text has a faint blue echo / 5: Fishers using traditional southeast asian equipment / 6: Ling Ling Chen, a chinese model, lying in water with her face turned towards the viewer. She has bleached hair and her eyes are closed / 7: Peng Chang, a taiwanese model, propped up on her hands in shallow water. She is wearing a gold dress that fans out on the surface behind her and has dark hair / 8: A bay with hills visible in the distance / 9: Same format as Image 4, but the text is all lowercase and reads “people of the coast” / 10: Pearls forming in an oyster shell / 11: Ridges in sand, each filled with water / 12: Two people leaning on each other while standing in water. They have dark skin and are wearing white sarongs /End ID]

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 2: Car sex with Yunho

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of??

Content warnings: names (baby, baby girl, babe), yunho monster cock, just messy, yunho is hopelessly in love, the frogs are loud

Summary: Things get tense while stargazing with with your boyfriend.

Word count: 1754

Tags: @hyuckilstan @mork-ly @wubbster @critssq

Kinktober master list

Smut below the cut

The seats in his SUV are laid back and the song of the frogs in the pond just over the hill fill the air, floating in through the open panoramic sunroof. It’s beautiful but neither of you are paying much attention to the stars anymore. Conversation had ceased the moment his lips met yours and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the meteor shower anymore. All you cared about was staying quiet as his large hands cupped your breasts under your shirt.

Your breath hitched as he thumbed over your nipple and you felt him grin against your neck. “You’re so responsive.”

“It’s hard not to be responsive when I’m with you.” You whispered back, letting your nails rake across his scalp. You felt him shiver at the touch and let out a soft sigh as a smile tugged at your lips.

“Well I do know what makes you tick so it’s pretty easy to get you worked up.” He sounded cocky and you rolled your eyes as you pulled back to look down at him. “I also happen to know you’ve been dying to fuck me in the back seat of my car for months now.” You wanted to deny it on principle but decided not to argue. “Let’s make that happen. Whaddaya think, baby?”

You wasted no time in bringing your lips to his, nipping as you rocked your hips. He was unbelievably hard against your ass as you started to grind on him. He bucked his hips slightly before gently pushing you back so he could reach the front of your pants. You removed yourself from his lap entirely and quickly shucked your jeans, gasping softly when the cool air of early October pouring in above you hit your skin.

He immediately pulled you back to his lap and slipped a hand between your legs, the other moving to cradle your face. “You’re fucking soaked, baby.” He groaned as his fingers danced over the growing wet patch on your panties.

You gave no response, just reached between the two of you to unbutton his jeans. Sex was always frantic and messy with Yunho and tonight was no different. In fact, you were so desperate tonight that you turned him down when he asked to go down on you. “Please just fuck me, Yunho, I can’t take the teasing right now.” You whispered, now breathless as his long fingers pushed your panties to the side.

He didn’t bother attempting to fully undress either of you, opting instead to press two of his fingers into your dripping pussy as you freed his aching cock from its denim confines. You stifled a moan, afraid someone might hear despite there being no one around for miles. He gave a wicked chuckle as he curled his fingers in a come hither motion, eyes locked on your face as your jaw fell slack. “Right there-” you gasped, trying to recover as his fingers began to slip from your entrance.

“Right there?” He echoed in that teasing tone you knew all too well as he plunged his graceful fingers back inside you, admiring the way your face contorted with pleasure as you tried to keep quiet. You nodded vigorously as you fought the urge to grind against his hand, spitting into your own and coating his dick. You watched as his eyes glossed over and his breath hitched. You knew you still didn’t have control though. His fingers slipped from your entrance once again but this time he took his dick and lined up. “Fuck me, baby girl.” He groaned as he looked up at you, thumb caressing your cheek.

You sank down on his thick cock and sucked in a shaky breath before allowing him to pull you in for a desperate, sloppy kiss. Both hands moved to your hips to guide and support you as you lifted yourself up only to drop back down. You pulled back from the kiss, tugging his lip between your teeth as you backed away. You righted yourself on his lap and began to bounce, lifting up so just the tip was inside before dropping back down.

The head of his cock kissed your cervix almost painfully but it only added to the pleasure. You tipped your head back, eyes half shut as you barely registered the burst of meteors overhead. You felt too good to think about anything else. Yunho clouded your senses as his hands slid up your sides to lift your shirt. “Take it off for me…”

You paused to remove your shirt and give your burning thighs a break but he lifted you up a bit and continued to fuck up into your soaked cunt. You whimpered pathetically as you dropped your shirt on the seat beside him, barely giving him a moment to admire your breasts bouncing before leaning into him. His arms snaked around your waist and held you flush to his chest as he pistoned up into you, soft grunts of exertion creating barely-there clouds of fog over your shoulder.

Despite the low temperature, your body was engulfed in flames. The chill was actually welcome as sweat began to bead along your body. In an attempt to stifle your sounds, you attached your lips to his neck and began sucking a mark into his skin. You felt his dick twitch inside you and grinned against his skin before sinking your teeth in. “Fuck, baby, you know what that shit does to me-”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” You whispered teasingly and he slapped your ass, eliciting a pathetic yelp. The sound quickly morphed into a dissatisfied whine as his hips slowed and you found yourself pulling back from his embrace. You quickly took over again and lifted yourself up, glancing between your bodies to watch as you sank back down on his cock. You took a shaky breath at the sight before leaning back a bit to brace yourself against the front seats.

His eyes zeroed in on your chest as you picked up the pace, thoroughly enjoying the view. You returned his gaze when he lifted his shirt a bit, staring shamelessly at his half-exposed abs. You swallowed hard at the sight but he didn't notice - and thank god for that because he would’ve made fun of you afterwards if he had. He liked teasing you. It was practically his life force.

Your mouth went dry as he pushed his shirt higher still, eyelids heavy as he showed off for you. You heard a soft chuckle morph into a groan and you realized you’d been caught. So much for not being teased.

“Like what you see, babe?”

“What if I say no?” You paused so he could fully remove his shirt before grinding against him as he settled back in.

“Then I’ll have to call you on your bullshit and handle you back at mine.” He raised an eyebrow and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. That didn’t sound too bad.

“And if that’s exactly what I want?”

“We both know you hate having your orgasm ripped away from you.” He rolled his eyes and you frowned.

“You wouldn’t…”

“I have before. I’ll do it again.” How could he seem so blase about this? It wasn’t fair. You just wanted to play around but he was threatening to punish you. You huffed quietly before resuming your actions, already regretting it as your thighs began to tremble.

At this point, you weren’t bouncing so much as repeatedly dropping into his lap in a heap. Your legs didn't want to work anymore, they wanted a break. He pulled you into him again and shook his head, caging you against his body when you tried to pull away. “You just relax, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Something about his tone made you dizzy and you couldn’t bring yourself to fight further. You melted into him as he fucked you, peppering kisses along his collarbones. The windows were foggy as the heat from your bodies mingled with the cool air that wrapped around you and the frogs' songs seemed more distant than before - not that you could really hear it over your pulse.

You could feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter with each thrust. You dug your fingers into his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself but he went faster, determined to make you cry his name at full volume at least once tonight. “So close-” you gasped and he gently pushed you back just enough for him to see your face.

You looked like an angel. A shower of shooting stars was your backdrop and you were staring at him like he was the only person you’d ever love in any lifetime. Your cheeks and nose were rosy, eyes half-lidded, jaw hanging slack. He was stunned by your beauty. “Let me see you cum.” His voice was strained as he took you in, one hand slipping between your bodies so he could toy with your clit to send you over the edge.

It was as if all you needed was his permission. Your eyes squeezed shut as waves of euphoria crashed over you, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. You finally let out a cry that vaguely sounded like his name as he helped you ride it out and you felt him stiffen inside you.

His thrusts grew sloppy as he neared the finish line. He finally snapped when you opened your eyes to take him in, almost as if he was waiting for you to watch him fall apart too. He was beautiful. His lips were parted slightly, allowing grunts of pleasure to slip out as his brow furrowed. His head tipped back and you almost came again at the sight of him losing himself in you. He let out one final moan, far louder than the rest, as he forced your ass down against his hips one last time, this time holding you in place as his cum filled you.

The croaking of the frogs drummed against your skull as you caught your breath, both of you admiring each other. Yunho was the first to speak. He always was. “You’re fucking amazing, baby.” He groaned softly, bringing his fingers to his lips to lick your juices off of them. “Sweet too.” You opened your mouth to interject but he smiled up at you and your breath caught in your throat. “Whaddaya say we go back to mine for another round?”

[muffinsin]

Hey, I like to think castle Dimitrescu has a nice sizable garden. I like to think the family employs maids to upkeep the gardens alongside the vineyards; planting and designing elaborate flower beds, Roman statues, trellises, arbor gate, a beautiful hedge maze mixed with climbing roses, secluded seating in dead ends and an elegant fountain hidden in the middle. I also like to think that once spring has sprung, Daniela reads in the gardens rather than the library.

I also also like to think that one late summer night, a curious outsider scales the garden walls for the sole purpose of picking a rose. What they find instead is Dani, sitting by the fountain reading out loud Romeo and Juliet. Enchanted by the youngest Dimitrescu’s beauty, the outsider (fem g!p) admires from afar. Dani is reading Act 2 scene 2 where Romeo scales the capulet garden wall to see Juliet again (aka the balcony scene). She reads out a Juliet line, “How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.” Before she can continue, the outsider reads out the Romeo line, “With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.” Of course, this startles Dani at first, but soon she relaxes and finds herself taken by this dashing outsider. She gets the idea to test this outsider and see how long they can recite the story until things become…..too heated.

Lol I’m sure you can see a pattern with me. I love romance, especially the classics. Also, happy new year day!🎉

I absolutely agree about the garden!🪴 also such an interesting concept!👀 I’ll admit I’ve never read Romeo and Juliet lol so this might be a tad bit messier than I’d like it to be- won’t lie tho I had a lot of fun with it😬 Happy new year! 🎊 (little late as I took my time with this request, but still! Happy 2024 y’all!🎊)

Let’s get into it!

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You barely manage to hold onto the stone wall as you climb alongside the small ledge. It’s cold, and slippery, and if it wasn’t for the vines covering it, you doubt you would be able to find your grip again at all.

Below you lies sure death by now, rocks and hills, thorns and boulders. You don’t spare it a glance now- never has looking down worked for anybody. You’ll just be able to return the way you came, all the way at the end of the ledge and into the tree that stands tall and proud.

A rose, is your goal.

You’re not sure why you’ve accepted this bet in the first place- to pluck a rose from the gardens of the Dimitrescu family. It’s by no means an easy task, much less one that promises safe return.

Maybe it’s your curiosity that led you to accept.

After all, the Dimitrescus are somewhat of a myth, merely a very real one.

You’ve never personally laid eyes on any of them, but heard the stories.

Stories of women, virgins, dragged off and made into wine. Others enslaved to work at the castle, at which a gruesome fate awaits them should they not perform well.

Other stories speak of a woman, a countess, taller than any man or woman one has ever seen. And three commanders, daughters.

It is said they are a family of royal standard, yet blood-thirsty huntresses willing to kill and slaughter innocent people.

You know of their distaste of men- everybody does.

And yet you have never seen them, not one of them. Are they truly as bad as they are made out to be? Are they filthy hags with bloodied limbs and large, unforgiving eyes?

It says it is curiosity that kills the cat, and yet you’re feeling exceptionally curious.

Perhaps, your questions will be answered at last.

You steady your grip as you near what must be the gardens of the castle. The summer air is warm, and even from the opposite side of the wall do you smell the scent of many blooming flowers.

You freeze momentarily at a voice. Have you been discovered?

No, the voice is faint, and dreamy. Soft, and beautiful. You feel as though pulled in.

Faster and more eager than you should, you scale the ledge faster, eager to see who this beautiful voice belongs to.

“What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, so stumblest on my counsel”, the dreamy voice goes on.

You frown- you know this quotation.

For a moment you feel a small blush creep to your face- how fitting the line is, in a way. Only is it you who suddenly has their mind invaded by the calm, soft voice from the other side of the wall.

It’s soft and warm, gentle and yet- hopeful. Phrases roll off the sweet maiden’s tongue like honeyed words, from what must be honeyed lips.

You wonder- is this one of the women kidnapped by the almighty Dimitrescu family? A beauty trapped in the castle? You would free her, and yet beg her to sing her sweet phrases more and more.

You keep moving, you can see a bunch of thicker vines near you, perfect to climb the thick stone wall and make your way into what can only be the Garden of Eden.

“By a name. I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.”, the dainty creature reads aloud.

You grunt quietly as you at last climb the thick vines. As though enchanted by a siren’s spell, your eyes immediately find the woman the beautiful voice belongs to, and are at once unable to gaze away from her for even a moment.

Auburn hair falls down her back and shoulders, glistening in the beautiful light of the moon. It has her skin appear almost white-grayed, the pale color a contrast to her dark clothing.

She is ethereal, you realize. You can’t make out the details of her face from a distance, the urge to move closer to her taking over your mind.

The beauty sits perched on a small, regal looking bench, surrounded by flowers.

You watch her pick one, a white, large one, and bring it to her face. Even from the distance you see her eyes closing in content.

She’s completely in her own little world, it seems. It’s a beautiful sight to see. Never have you gazed upon such beauty and purity.

Then, she giggles, and it’s as though your heart skips several beats.

The flower you are supposed to pick- there are plenty right within your arms reach, yet you can’t be bothered. Your eyes have set on a by far more perfect prize.

The beautiful woman smells the flower once more before picking up the book resting in her lap again.

“My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words. Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?”, she reads aloud in an angel’s voice, though she is giddy now. She seems to be reading to the flower she has picked, as though it was her beloved Romeo.

You’re blushing, the next line well on your mind. Again, it applies to you.

“Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”, you whisper to yourself. What are you- a burglar, technically? A villager?- neither, if she shall not like even one. You wish to be whatever she wants you to be, for her.

Soon enough the dainty creature repeats, gently, the words from the verse.

“Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”, she hums. You fully climb over the wall, hidden by the shadows as you step into the garden.

This woman, you notice in the back of your mind, doesn’t seem like a captive. Like a helpless maiden. She seems powerful, yet delicate.

Upon getting a closer look, you notice her golden eyes nearly glowing in the darkness of the night. They’re beautiful, unique and breathtaking.

You yearn to touch the beauty, to feel her words of love and affection addressed to you.

“How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here.”, she reads aloud, and her voice is so soft, so enchanting and alluring, seductive and sweet, innocent and tempting all at the same time, you can no longer hold back.

“With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out; And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me”, you blurt out.

She’s visibly startled, so much so that the flower falls from her delicate thighs and onto the stone pavement, her golden eyes bright and wide as she turns her head adorably, trying to find you.

It seems even before you step out of the shadows, she finds you.

Still, the beauty stares in bewilderment as you approach, stepping closer and closer. She takes a step back, gasping when the back of her knees hit the bench behind her.

To your shock, a sickle is summoned to her hand, and her position grows defensive. Perhaps it’s foolish that it took you until now to realize that the dainty creature is no helpless maiden, but one of the predators taunting the village and its inhabitants.

But, she’s pretty.

And so you march on no matter the risk, as though she was a siren and had lured you in.

When in front of her, you bend down somewhat gracefully to grasp and pick up the fallen flower. It’s shines in the moonlight, not entirely unlike the beautiful woman’s eyes.

When you rise and, with to Daniela surprising and never seen confidence, grasp her hand, you note a small, but surprised gasp coming from her.

Her hand is soft, but cold, and she gasps again as you bend down to place a light kiss to her knuckles.

How…romantic. You’re unlike anybody she has ever met or even laid eyes on.

The woman wordlessly stares, a blush on her pale cheeks making her seem more petite and innocent than she surely is.

As she accepts the flower back into her hand, words tumble from her lips- the continuation of the verse.

“If they do see thee, they will murder thee”, she whispers.

Unbeknownst to you, Daniela’s words ironically are a warning. If one of her sisters or mother was to spot you, you will be slain. Her eyes glisten with something- curiosity, love, hope, darkness. You feel as if you could drown in those beautiful pools of gold.

You hold her gaze. For some reason you find yourself deeply disappointed when her hand slips from yours.

She looks shy, yet seductive. She knows exactly what she is doing, and is yet cautious- you are an intruder, after all, with intentions unclear to her.

“Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity.”, you answer, stating Romeo’s verse.

Again, you seem to almost be responding to her warning in the poem of the beautiful words of the verse coming from your lips.

Then, a small promise falls from Daniela’s lips. Again, you would not know the true meaning of the spoken phrase until later.

“I would not for the world they saw thee here”, she says, and means it.

Her sisters will not find this delicious and intriguing intruder. You’re all hers, she decides.

You’re quick to respond to her.

“I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, and but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate, than death proroguèd, wanting of thy love.”

You smile at her blush, as well as when you notice her breath quicken. This woman is adorable.

Daniela feels as though her head is spinning. She feels weak at her knees at your romantic words. This is like the most delightful of games!

The auburn haired woman grips the flower a little tighter, smirking at you as she smells it again and smiles.

With a light push to your shoulder, she walks past you, elegant in her slow and seductive movements.

“By whose direction found'st thou out this place?”, she asks, real curiosity burning in her golden eyes.

You see what she is doing, too. She’s testing you, to see how far you will be able to go until you cannot keep up with her.

As though you were the predator you know this woman apparently is, you stalk after her as she moves, admiration and want clear on your face whereas her is a perfect mask of seductiveness, hope and eagerness.

You don’t keep the beautiful woman waiting, instead answer proudly: “By love, that first did prompt me to inquire. He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far as that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.”

The woman’s eyes shine at your answer, and yet as you reach out to grab her, she spins and keeps moving.

She’s a siren, and you’re eager to be pulled under.

Her fingertips caress the flowers she passes, the vines and even the cold stone wall. She rests on top of the stairs of a gazebo, excitement betrayed in her eyes.

You stare in anticipation, your greedy eyes taking in the sight of this woman. Her auburn hair falling gently and blowing in the warm wind, the black rose tattoo in her forehead symbolizing her house. You wish to trace it.

The choker necklace sitting snuggly around her throat, regal and gothic looking, with a single, green gemstone embedded in it.

Her large cleavage, exposed due to the V-Cut of her dress. You do your best not to stare, yet feel your dick twitching beneath your trousers at the sight and scent of the woman, the flowery and sweet one lingering in the air as long as she is only around. You feel your arousal rising with every passing moment.

She’s the most stunning creature you have ever encountered.

“Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek for that which thou hast heard me speak tonight. Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny what I have spoke. But farewell, compliment. Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries they say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully; or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, and therefore thou mayst think my behavior light. But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

Than those that have more coying to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, but that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true-love passion.

Therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discoverèd.”

By the end of her turn, she is in front of you, so close that you feel on fire, almost. Her hands, bare and soft, rest on your shoulders as she gazes down at you from the step she stands on. Golden eyes betray the arousal she feels, and give a hint towards the delusional “love” she believes to feel already.

It’s a dangerous game, and one you’re eager to play.

The woman gasps as you grip her hips, slim but soft, and allows you to lift her off the step.

Her golden eyes find you, tension building up farther between the two of you. Her gaze is piercing almost, as is yours.

“Lady, by yonder blessèd moon I vow, that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-“, you begin, smiling softly as she eagerly responds, her hands squeezing your shoulders as you squeeze her hips.

Her cheeks are warm and pink as she talks, the dainty creature only yours for this moment.

“O, swear not by the moon, th'inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”, she responds, breathless.

Daniela feels eager, and she spots the eagerness in your eyes.

You feel her so close to you, and it’s making your head spin. All in you demands you to lean forwards and capture the woman’s soft looking lips in yours.

“What shall I swear by?”, comes your breathlessly spoken reply.

“Do not swear at all, or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee.”

You can no longer hold back.

A small, surprised gasp comes from the woman as you grip her back and push her forwards, your lips capturing hers effortlessly. She hums and moans against yours, her small noises more erotic than any you have ever heard before.

She is a seductress, a huntress, and you are her all too eager prey.

“Tell me your name, Juliet, I must know”, you beg, words hushed and whispered against her soft lips. She’s panting from the kiss, hands rising to your neck.

“Daniela”, she answers. “Daniela Dimitrescu”, she adds, as though there was any doubt remaining to her true identity.

You capture her lips in a kiss lest she can speak again, your tongue addicted to the taste of hers again already.

Her little noises, her moans and gasps, hums and giggles do a number on you. You must not look or reach down to feel yourself become hard, and you barely refrain from groping and kneading the soft flesh of her body.

Softly, you lead her inside the gazebo, and an equally soft gasp escapes your lips as the woman pushes you down on the bench.

You must not yearn for her touch, however, as she straddles your thighs immediately and leans in for yet another kiss, her hands coming up to the sleeves of your blouse, tugging gently.

You know what she wants, and grant it to the beauty.

With a simple movement you unbutton and take off your blouse, eyes watching hungrily as Daniela slips off your lap to undo the corset around her waist. You watch greedily as she pulls its strings and it falls to the floor, then reaches back to pull open her dress.

One by one skin is revealed as her dress inches down- pale shoulders, perky, round breasts and hard, slightly darker nipples, a soft stomach and waist with smooth and wide hips, black panties in the way to see her most intimate part. Thick thighs and black, near transparent tights, black heels. You can’t help ogling the beautiful creature.

Daniela blushes under your gaze, climbing back onto your lap as she kisses you. Your hips settle on her hips again, and you feel your bulge press up against her covered cunt.

You want nothing but to press up, to grind against her.

“Perfect”, you whisper, trailing kisses along her sensitive neck. She’s moaning and whimpering on top of you, hands kneading your thigh only arousing you more.

She cups your bulge, and you near bite down on her pale skin. Groans slip past your lips as she gropes and squeezes, eagerly exploring your body with one hand on your bulge, the other traveling up and down your front.

“You’re ethereal. Breathtaking”, you moan. You feel her shiver and hear her gasp at your words. She’s adorably sensitive as you prod at her neck, kissing, biting and sucking, creating hickeys on pale flesh.

Daniela lets out a light gasp as your hands slide up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them. They’re large and round, soft and firm. A pull of her nipples has the redhead arch her back slightly for you.

“So beautiful”, you whisper, like you at last receive your prize. She whimpers, moaning and mewling softly for you.

With desperation clear in her golden eyes, Daniela grinds down on you, her warm panty-covered core rubbing against your bulge. You feel yourself growing painfully hard and twitching underneath her. You want release, and you want to grant her hers.

“May I, my fair lady?”, you whisper against her neck, lips brushing against her bruised and marked skin as your fingers slide down and toy with the waistband of her underwear.

She nods quickly, eagerly. “Yes, my love, please”, she gasps all so happily.

As soon as she stands enough to allow you to slide her underwear off, her eager hands grip the waistline of your trousers. Eager, seductive eyes set on you yet again and you nod, lifting your hips enough for her to pull the clothing down and expose you.

Your eyes widen as she drops to her knees, a hand snaked between her own legs, her other on your thigh. She stares up at you, submissively and blushing, yet so eager and enticing.

“Please”, you whisper, a gentle command for her to take you in her awaiting mouth. Daniela doesn’t have to be told twice, head leaning forwards as she takes you in, humming and moaning around your tip.

It’s been ages since she’s had one, she feels giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting to play with you!

You tangle your hand in her hair, feeling the soft locks as she bobs her head and squeezes your thigh.

Her cheeks are warm, her eyes bright whenever she glances up at you. Moans ripple from her throat and your head spins when she begins to finger herself, dragging moans and mewls from her lips which’s vibrations bring you immense pleasure.

At the squelching sound of her pussy accepting her fingers inside, you wish for nothing but to bury yourself deep within her.

She takes her fingers well, and is, by the sound of her fingers thrusting in and out, soaked.

You yearn to feel the woman around you, bouncing on your cock and receiving it hard from behind as her adorable, sexy breasts bounce for you, then clean the beauty up.

“Y-Yes, you’re doing so go-good!”, you praise, which only seems to spur her on more. Daniela hums and smiles, hips shaking for a moment as she curls her fingers within herself.

Truly, she would much rather have you inside than her fingers, if only so she wouldn’t have to be as gentle as she must be with her sharp nails.

She tastes the precum dripping from you for a moment, giggling as she lets go of your cock and licks it up eagerly. “Good girl”, you groan, panting and moaning for her. You cup your own breast and guide her head back to your cock, shivering as the minx drags her tongue along you and sucks your tip clean.

You gasp at the feeling, the pleasure driving you closer to your orgasm.

She too feels close, her thighs trembling and her hips bucking up as her thumb grazes against her clit and rubs it as she thrusts her fingers inside.

With gentle, shaky hands you grab her hair again and guide her back to her previous position, moaning as your cock slips back inside her warm and wet mouth and she bobs her head again.

You feel yourself at the back of her throat, pushing up against her collar necklace the deeper she takes you and gags around you.

Your fingers twitch as you play with your breasts, and your head spins. You’re so close, but want her to cum first. So you hold back and continue on moaning and gasping, praises for her falling from your lips that only edge her closer to her own orgasm.

Thankfully, she is not far away from hers, moaning and whimpering constantly with a flushed face and a mouth full of your cum.

At last you notice her cum, her moans and muffled scream bringing you to your own, as you hastily pull away to cover her chest and lips.

You pant and buck your hips beyond control at the erotic picture of the beautiful woman painted in your cum. It drips from her wet lips to her chin, sticks to her chest and collarbone.

You waste no time to pull her back on your lap, the woman’s glee giggles causing a wide smile to form on your face. She’s got you wrapped around your finger, with her sweet voice and adorable appearance and giggles, her unique physique as well as her beautiful eyes- and both of you know this.

Her lips meet yours once again. As you taste yourself on her tongue, you feel the primal urge to taste her.

Daniela blushes shyly when her wrist is grabbed and brought to your face, your eyes taking in the shimmer of slick wetness that coats her fingers.

When you wrap your mouth around the digits, the auburn haired woman grinds down again. Her wet cunt rubs directly against your cock and your head spins at the feeling of her wetness smeared against you.

You hum around her fingers, tasting the sweet, candy-like wetness that must be her cum. You almost chuckle. The sweet flavored taste matches her perfectly.

Daniela watches panting as you suck her fingers clean completely, only letting go of her wrist once all wetness is licked and sucked away.

As you feel your cock hardening between your legs and pushing up against her, Daniela squeaks adorably. She grinds down properly, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of her wet and sensitive clit rubbing against you.

As much as you are a fan of her wet body humping your cock, you barely have any restraint left. All of you urges you to push inside the beautiful woman.

“Can I?”, you ask, wanting to confirm her consent to this. Daniela giggles breathlessly, her hips raising already and her hand reaching between her legs as she sinks down on you.

“O-Oooh!~”, she moans, her mouth dropped open at the feeling of having you slide deep inside of her. She’s shivering and grips your shoulders tightly, as though to adjust to the feeling.

You stay still despite your urges to take the dainty creature and fuck her sore, instead allow her this time to get used to the feeling. Still, your cock twitches and throbs inside of her, and her cunt clenches around you as if to milk you of your cum.

“You feel s-so good, my love”, she whispers, panting and moaning as she moves her hips a little.

“As do you, my beautiful Daniela”

The phrase makes her head spin and has her clench around you tightly. To be called yours so boldly is doing things to her. She doesn’t ever want to let you go! No, you’re all hers, intruder or not. Her sisters would never have to find out…

Daniela gasps when your patience seems to come to an end. You thrust upwards roughly, eager to feel her clench around you again; and you are granted this.

“Divine”, you whisper back, your hands at her hips as you work your hips. You thrust fast and deep, and watch in delight as the redhead moans and shrieks from the pleasure, her hands tightening on your shoulders, her breasts bouncing as she is fucked on top of your lap.

Daniela’s head is thrown back when you lean down and wrap your lips around her breast, sucking eagerly. Now you have a taste of her, you are sure she is what can only be described as utter bliss.

“Ah-ah! A-AAAh!”, she shrieks and moans, little whimpers and moans falling from her black painted lips. She feels you thrust deep into her and does her best to match your thrusts, grinding down and panting soon at your pace.

You don’t deny her, instead move your hand down to rub her small clit in tight circles.

She can’t remember ever being taken like this; raw want and lust displayed in the form of pointed, skilled thrusts into her, hands gripping her hips tightly to ensure she would stay in place right where you want her, as well as the way your lips wrap around her nipple eagerly.

“Ple-A-AH! Yes! Yes! AAHMORE!”

She feels helpless in the best way, succumbing to pleasure and love, whimpering and gasping for more. Her thick ass presses against your balls every time she grinds down again, and as your limbs ache, you feel her riding you eagerly.

Daniela’s hips buck helplessly after a short while already. You feel her tightening around you every few seconds, her chest heaving and her arched back causing her breasts to push against you tighter.

You lose your other hand from her hip and slide it up her ribcage, until you cup her unoccupied breast.

The poor redhead feels herself be brought to her orgasm fast; with your cock buried deep inside of her and her clit rubbed, her sensitive nipples squeezed and sucked.

Eager to repay the favor, one of her hands slides down to cup your breast. The dainty thing is a lot stronger and naughtier than she appears, her fingers bringing you pleasure with ease even as her hips rise and fall.

She looks graceful riding you, even as her head is thrown back and her back is arched for you.

“S-So close, A-AAAAH! Y-yes! YES!”

You bite down on her gently, tearing yet another squeak and gasp from her lips. Her clit feels warm as it throbs under your fingertip, the needy woman so close.

When she cums, she tightens around you, so much it takes all of your willpower not to cum inside of her yet. You don’t want things to end just yet, too caught up in her bliss.

Daniela gasps when within moments she is picked up and turned, instead leaned against the bench with you still inside.

The new position allows you to thrust even deeper into your sweet newfound darling.

It’s ironic in a way; your intention to pick and steal a single flower from the Castle gardens, yet you pluck the most beautiful and precious one for yourself

[marietheran]

LotR reread - book 2, chapter 6 - Lothlórien

I was never that great a fan of dwarves, but all those moments of cultural significance Tolkien gives Gimli are something*･✧

And I love the fact that he gets to see his people's ancestral realm, despite it all, and even be something of a guide to the rest of the fellowship at times.

That was in the previous chapters, but kudos to Gandalf for frequently consulting Gimli even though he ultimately had the greater knowledge of Moria

"Though Orcs will often pursue foes for many leagues into the plain, if they have a fallen captain to avenge" implies an interesting sort of semi-loyalty, even when not pressed by the person commanding it.

Mysterious Allusions to Aragorn/Arwen Counter: 2.875 (why must there be so many that might be more general, but...?)

I have decided that the bad reputation Lothlorien has among some Gondorians is, more or less, due to the fact that once in a while a young scholar will realise the Lady of the Golden Wood was there for most of history, and set out to interview her, be rather indelicate about it (this is her family, after all!) and get summarily thrown out.

"But from the West has come no word/ And on the Hither Shore/ No tidings Elven-folk have heard/ Of Amroth evermore"

Elves can forget! "That is but part for I have forgotten much". I don't know if it's common fanon that they can't, but I have met with it, and it's not true.

The description of the night spent among the trees, and the elves speaking in whispers while Frodo is half-asleep... something about it moves me.

A Lorien elf with gold hair... hmm, clearly it isn't nonexisten among the elves of Middle-earth. Lothlorien did have a population that included some Noldor (including maybe some more part-Vanyar than just Galadriel), but this seems more like it might be a silvan elf.

Aragorn's handling of the blindfold situation does cast him in a very good light.

Frodo seems to be able to look at the world with elvish eyes, here in Lorien, maybe, everything seeming both new and ancient...

"...but whereas the light perceives the very heart if the darkness its own secret has not been discovered." vs. "And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it."?

Allusions to Aragorn/Arwen Counter at 3.875. Admittedly, "Arwen, beloved" is more than an allusion, but it's in elvish so no one understands it at first.

"And taking Frodo's hand in his, he left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as living man." *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I'm beginning to fall in love with Aragorn again.

That last quote is weirdly phrased though... does it imply he came there not as a living man? or is it just a poetic expression?

[emyn-arnens]

I was tagged ages ago by @slightnettles and @bywayofmemory (on my main) to list the first line of each of my last 10 posted fics and see if there’s a pattern—thank you both! I'll limit this to my Tolkien fics since that's what y'all are here for.

Faramir watches as the sea draws back and the bays are scraped bare of water. (Like a Wave That Should Engulf the World, Faramir/Éowyn)

The Hunt passed over the plains and hills of Beleriand, roving far beneath shadow and starlight, and the sound of their approach was as thunder echoing in the deep hills, striking fear into the hearts of all who heard, and the cry of the Valaróma at their head was as lightning piercing the deeps of the night. (As Thunder Echoing in the Deep Hills, Oromë)

The things of the forest and hills crept back to Nargothrond, in time, when the reek of the dragon had lessened and the horror of his memory had become a memory itself. (As Watchful as Any Living Thing)

Though the many towers of Ilmarin stood crowned with golden domes, catching the light of the rising sun on their facets, the Tower of Varda stood open to the sky. (Beneath the Innumerable Stars, Findis & Ilmarë)

“Come, come!” Nessa cried to her maidens. (In a Noon of Gold, Nessa & Vána)

Celegorm knew death: He knew it as the long-limbed beast that kept pace with the Hunt, running amongst the hounds and horses, present at every death and whispered prayer to Oromë, guiding away those chosen as sacrifices. (A Familiar Thing Made Foreign, Celegorm)

Belladonna peered at the trees around her, certain she had passed them before—yes, there was the gnarled, squat one with moss draping down like the tangled grey beard of an old man, and there was the slim, lissom one bent like dancing lady, and the tall, stately one tangled in her branches was her grave partner in their ageless dance. (Crowned with Lilies Fair, Belladonna & Goldberry)

Aredhel strayed deeper into the forest, bewitched by the faint thrum of its heartbeat, so like to her own, a wildness wholly untamed by axe or hand, and the forest beckoned her further into its heart, offering her glimpses of dark pools of water hidden in the hollows of tree roots, glimmering with darkling beauty, and of glades untouched by any hand, strewn with pale flowers like fallen stars. (In the Darkling Woods, Aredhel)

Finrod stood in the dark of his cell, searching. (Shadow-song, Finrod & Sauron)

The night was silent apart from the footfalls of the Fellowship as they followed the path Aragorn marked for them in the dark. (On These Hither Shores, Frodo & Boromir)

Ignoring the over-representation of lengthy sentences due to all the 3SF fics here, I tend to start with description rather than dialogue, with a balance of scene setting and in media res. Lots of focus on the environment, but that's pretty typical of my writing.

Tagging @starry-mantle @dreamingthroughthenoise @grey-gazania if you haven't done this recently and would like to!

[dionysianfreak]

details from my adventures with Pan & the satyroi this afternoon 🌿🐐

"Tell me about Pan...[the] lover of merry noise. the shepherd-god, long-haired, unkempt. He has every snowy crest and the mountain peaks and rocky crests for his domain; hither and thither he goes through the close thickets, now lured by soft streams, and now he presses on amongst towering crags and climbs up to the highest peak that overlooks the flocks. Often he courses through the glistening high mountains, and often on the shouldered hills he speeds along slaying wild beasts, this keen-eyed god. Only at evening, as he returns from the chase, he sounds his note, playing sweet and low on his pipes of reed."

—Homeric hymn XIX. to Pan

[helsingvania]

Looks around, no one is talking about ahsoka so I think it's a relevant time to be unhinged.

I'm not mad or upset with how ahsoka turned out, I'm disappointed.

I had low expectations going into it, we all did. But the first two episodes genuinely did drew me into the storyline. I don't care about ahsoka herself but the lore expansion, seeing the spectres again, and much of the overarching mystery just drew me in. Baylan and his more reserved, logical, and lawful nature. Even though it hate it, the myths around a new galaxy and the stories told by the Jedi and how it was just merely a fairytale tantalized me.

And this is where the show went down hill for me personally. It's a very you can't have your cake and eat it too, you can't have the grounded orders are orders storyline with the new Republic and the mystical fairytale story of traveling to a lost land to recover a hero banished with his enemy.

Both of them feel disjointed to me and if I had to choose one I would go for bringing whimsy back into star wars because I LOVE that stuff. There is a world where both elements can totally work, but based on the writing of the show alone it can only be one. And even without getting into characters, the Identity of this show is so confused. It doesn't want to know what it wants to be and will change scene to scene.

Is it a voyage into the unknown? Is it a traveling loner samurai story with a society that aged passed them? Is it a critique of bureaucracy and the failure of removing fascism? It's all of them, and yet none of them because none of them build on each other or even interact with each other. It's quite literally one scene its this theme, and the next is this theme. Neither them are expanded upon or even more forwards passed the 'this is bad' stage.

Hell Anakin's episode was only good because it only expanded a bit on Anakin, his relationship with ahsoka, and gaining a new prospective. It didn't do shit as far as meaning or anything. I think it was going for a: I didn't teach you to lay down and die. Type beat but it was so convoluted and filled with remember this from the show that it missed the fact it should've had a point. Like wow thanks filoni! You gave us solid evidence that Anakin will always be Vader and Vader will always be Anakin, and that both he and ahsoka were literally kids in war and he was trying to ensure her safety and life, and now the mortis arc has come back and reared it's head again and now he's chilling in the various realms of the force.

BUT IT LITERALLY DID NOTHING TO DIRECT FORWARDS THE SHOW OUTSIDE OF AHSOKA IS NOW BACK TO BEING A LITTLE SHIT AGAIN

How would I have done it? EASY!

A melancholic tale about realizing the world around you has shifted and coming to terms with everything that has happened to you. Between learning of what Anakin has become, the events of the rebellion and the clone wars, the fall of the Jedi and everything you thought you knew. Even realizing you have been doing nothing but walking forwards until you are finally dead.

Ahsoka acting more like Anakin as a coping mechanism since she couldn't do anything to help or save him. Running hither and yonder foolhardy and recklessly hoping that finally this fight will finally kill her. But they don't so she just continues on with her idea of what her duty is and what she's fighting for. Eventually, she does die and is met with Anakin, Anakin reinforces that he's always been like this and maybe don't take after him as much. And the lessons she taught her weren't just for survival, but doing what you did believe what was right despite the outcomes. This realization breathes new life into her (literally) and comes back and understands the fight all over again. And continuing her mission.

I don't think any of the spectres need much development compared to...the literal title character. Much of what they needed occurred back in rebels, Sabine owning up to her time in mandalore and making it right, Hera's own bravery and mourning Kanan. I still love the idea that Sabine is disaster lineage just so she can wield a lightsaber, but you didn't need to make her FORCE SENSITIVE HOLY SHIT. In fact I think Sabine being the more mature on here would've worked, yeah she acts young but she puts ahsoka in her place.

Baylan and Ezra were perfect. Ezra hasn't changed and still has his charisma and cheek while baylan is a very interesting villain based upon his past and motivations. I would've loved to have thrawn a little more subtle in place of his big introduction give the normies a FUCKING REASON TO FEAR HIM.

Final thing, you guys are cowards for not referencing heir to the empire.

[geopsych]

This poem was written about a specific time of year. Here on eastern Pennsylvania we’ve reached this point.

RELUCTANCE

by Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,

Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow,

When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feet question ‘Whither?’

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season.

[upstairsdownstairsandinbetween]

Hither Hills Residence, Montauk, New York,

Robert Young Architects,  

Landscape architect Steven Yavanian,  

Photographs by Michael Moran

[cliozaur]

So, Éponine as “misery” is offering service to Marius as “wretchedness.” To tell you the truth, I do not interpret Éponine’s kind gesture as a sign that she is in love with Marius. In the darkness of the corridor, she could see that her neighbour is “grieved” and wants to pay him back for his kindness to her earlier that day. I think this is it: not many people were kind to her, and let’s face it – Marius did not use her sexually though “Jondrette” subtly proposed this in his letter, but still gave her money, and showed some respect (we will not mention the fact that now he regrets it; Éponine doesn’t know about it). She wants to pay him back, kindness for kindness, and she wants to show him that she also has some social value and can be useful. That’s dignifying. And she proposes her help in a very delicate way: “Employ me. I do not ask for your secrets, you need not tell them to me, but I may be of use, nevertheless.” Ha! I especially like this bit of her service list: “you may assuredly tell me what is the matter with you, and I will go and speak to the persons; sometimes it is enough if some one speaks to the persons, that suffices to let them understand matters, and everything comes right.” This definitely makes her sound like a tough and dangerous person! I don’t wish to be the one to whom she will “speak” this way!

Marius, on the other hand, has nothing to be proud about. After mean thoughts about “the elder Jondrette girl,” like demanding his five francs back or thinking about her as a “toad,” he decides to “make use of her.” This makes him a little bit like her father, but, of course, he is not so manipulative.

I like the change of register in their communication. In French and other languages that distinguish between formal and informal “you,” Marius suddenly switches from formal and polite “vous” to irritated “tu,” which Éponine perceives as a sign of friendliness and closeness, and asks him to continue calling her that way, whereas she herself continues to use polite “vous.” And in English translation, at least in Hapgood’s, it’s a mess with all those “thou hast brought hither” etc.

And a few words about Marius’ spying after his neighbours through the peephole – it was such a popular trope in eighteenth-century erotic and pornographic literature! For instance, in Fanny Hill, spying after neighbours through the peephole resulted in reporting their “sodomite behaviour” to the police. Since Marius will also end up going to the police, there are some subtle parallels here.