#it's that. and then hair that COULD be fox ears if you so desired. the ponytail is the tail... the shape is more or less the same.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Deep in the Forest [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a short, smutty, imagine. You and Loki in a tent having feelings. Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Mild angst. (w/c 750)

Loki’s lips brush down the delicate skin of your throat; kissing slowly in time with his thrusts. You can feel your pulse inside his breath, flooding the sliver of space between you as his mouth comes to rest on your shoulder with a whisper of praise.

Quiet. You have to be quiet.

The way he moves inside you, the muted whimpers he stifles with every drag of his cock to the tip—if you could absorb a moment, wrap yourself in it forever, it would be this one.

Moments ago, his fingers burst through the thin bottom of your tent. He was willing himself not to explode, or moan so loudly the foxes would begin to howl. Either way, it amounts to the same.

They curl deep in the earth as he roots himself: his digits in soil, his cock in your cunt. The other hand plays with your breast, thumbing the nipple, and his sighs grow heavy while the humidity rises. “Darling,” he murmurs, and you comb damp straggles of hair from his face. His sapphire eyes find yours in the gloom of smothered torchlight; hooded, fogged with a desire he can never name. But you can: ‘love’—and so will he…eventually. The others are in tents dotted around yours.

Cap said, explicitly, ‘no, late night shenanigans’ while looking directly at Loki. And Loki had smiled, innocence swelling in his eyes as he pressed a palm to his chest: wounded. But he came, like he always does, because he can’t resist what you are together. He never can. “Darling,” he chokes again, as another liquid rock of his hips makes you forget your own name. Your legs tighten around him, pushing him deeper, and the torch rolls from its forgotten nest in the sleeping bag. “Shit, Loki…” you hiss, fumbling a hand towards the traitorous torch. Cap'll be all over that like nettle burn. He snorts against your hair, and in a flash, the clunky object vanishes. And with it—the sniff of light. “Hush,” he soothes, making you clench around the root of his cock. For some fucking reason his voice is even more devastating when you can’t see his face. “You wouldn’t want me to be discovered, would you? Deep inside you; deep in the forest of a strange land.” A shiver wrenches down your spine and makes your hips jolt.

Loki groans, stifled by a well-timed kiss. His tongue nudges deeper, a contented sigh rumbling in his chest as you arch into him and his palm slides under your head. Slowly, slowly, he rolls upwards, tugging your clit with his pelvis. It’s inevitable, now.

Climax sparks and begins to blossom outwards, licking between your thighs, tightening every muscle beneath your waist with pure pleasure. It’s inevitable, you think—as he pants quietly in time with your quickening breaths, as he smothers the need to spur you on with loud, filthy commands. A short whine slips between his teeth, and his back muscles tense. “Cum with me, Loki,” you whisper, and his heartbeat hammers against your chest. Long curls pool in your collarbone as his lips find yours in the darkness and Loki of Asgard groans his orgasm deep into your throat.

It’s inevitable, you think again, as your hand slides down his damp back, over the curve of his unbearably hard ass, clutching the twisted sleeping bag in a fist. The two of your are right together, and the world makes sense. He kisses the side of your nose as your silent gasps of orgasm ebb; the tip of your cheekbone, the shell of your ear. Loki's nostrils puff quietly in the humid silence. A droplet from the tent fabric drips onto your leg as you unwind from his body and he shifts to the side. He slips from inside you, seed hot on your inner thigh, and you miss him immediately: a particular kind of emptiness. You wonder if he feels it, too.   “I should go,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t want to. Resistance strings through the syllables like dew on spiderweb. You wait, just in case there’s something else he wants to add to that statement. A confession of love, perhaps. But in the pitch black, the only thing that follows is the trail of a long finger down your cheek, and a brush of his thumb over your lips. And then, his breath hitches. “I…” he starts, and then the words are eaten by the darkness in which they find themselves.

“Go,” you whisper. He leans forward, catching your lips like he’ll never leave. But he does, leaving a gap in the tent flap so you can see the stars. The tent smells of him. “I love you,” you whisper into the pillow with a smile, imagining Loki doing the same four tents over. You’ll say it soon enough. And so will he. It’s inevitable.

Tags in comments❤️x

[winningmymind]

(wholesome twinyard ficlet) Andrew pats Aaron's head sometimes

It starts in their joint therapy session, when Bee has somehow managed to pull a truth from Aaron's screwed tight lips after switching up her tactics to get Andrew's other half to be more candid with his feelings.

"Is that really what you want?" The question hangs in the air, spoken from Andrew himself, his identical hazel eyes taking notice of Aaron's strained face and reddening ears.

They give it a few minutes. The silence having a chance to settle until broken between them. It's difficult for Aaron to process what he even said aloud. A deep yearning he never thought to let anyone know. Not even Katelyn. Let alone Andrew and Bee. Reminds him of stretching, how it can be both painful and relieving. He's experiencing both right now and it fucking sucks.

".......Yes." Aaron hisses, swallowing his pride, embracing embarrassment, and feels the rest of his skin flushing a pretty rosy color at the vulnerability of it all. He loathes this part of growing and healing.

If only he could turn invisible, or reverse his confession, anything to run away from confronting his barrier of repression head on. Aaron refuses to make eye contact with Andrew, latching his attention to his untied shoe and bouncing leg full of anxiety.

Bee simply smiles at the progress made in the last hour, fondly addressing both Minyards with a clap of her hands to draw their attention.

"Then it's settled. For this next step, Andrew, when comfortable, you are to pat Aaron on the head occasionally. Get used to touching him in a brotherly fashion. Give him the praise he needs when times get rough or just because you feel like being affectionate. How does that sound?"

It's sounds absurd in Aaron's opinion. Why oh why did today's session, and the previous one, and the one before that have to highlight on Aaron's touch starved coping mechanisms paralleling Andrew's touch aversion issues? Why did Bee have to point out that specific pattern of theirs? Why can't Bee be shit at her job?

He wouldn't know how to conduct himself if Andrew willingly ruffled his hair like how he saw other siblings, normal and loving siblings do on TV sitcoms/in the family picture movies/after Exy little leagues games when his fellow teammates had someone cheering them on and ready to take them home to celebrate wins/comfort any losses.

(Aaron had to walk by himself every time because Tilda never did the bare minimum of showing up to support no matter how many times he circled the dates on fridge calendar).

He still remembers the sting of his hair getting pulled, scalp screaming in protest, shock overtaking his system as Andrew demands if Drake got his filthy paws on him. In the midst of a dead body and fresh blood, a part of Aaron's brain had sent signals of irrational happiness that Andrew might possibly care for him deeply, and that he can count on one hand all the instances where he's felt his twin's frantic hands checking to see if he was hurt by someone Andrew meant to protect him from.

Bee waits patiently for Andrew's response on if he'll agree. Aaron, who is now nervously tapping a finger to his knee to keep from squirming in his seat, kind of hopes his twin rejects the task and they can never discuss this topic ever again.

"I'll do it." Andrew says after drinking the last remnants of his hot cocoa, his tone laced in boredom, but both Bee and Aaron are picking up on Andrew's subtle communication differences and know that the Foxes goalie finds this therapy challenge very interesting.

Aaron let's out the breath he didn't know he was holding in. He didn't expect Andrew to comply this easily. He learned not to expect anything from Andrew, really, so it surprises him how his honesty is getting him the desired results a teenaged Aaron, a toddler Aaron, any version of Aaron pre-college could only hopelessly wish for. Wish granted, it seems.

"Alright! We'll talk about it in next week's session then. Thank you both for sharing your time with me." Bee's smiles are too sweet after each dismissal and Aaron practically bolts out of her office to the car while Andrew's in absolutely no rush to leave, purposely taking his time walking.

Bee quietly wishes the twins good luck, happy they're taking the necessary and belated baby steps together that they once were robbed of at birth.

-------

"Dude. Just stay in bed. Seriously." Matt pleads, placing bottles of water, Gatorade, and a bowl of microwaved canned soup in a mug on the nightstand beside Aaron's bed.

"I... can... make... it." Aaron's throat is on fire. Body feels heavy, skin feels hot. He's shivering, though, enough to clatter his teeth like he's in a snowstorm. Fever's most likely setting in.

"You're sick." Matt dares to press a hand to Aaron's forehead and the touch feels nice, so reassuring. Aaron will take that to his grave. "Coach will understand. Trust."

"But-"

"Nuh-uh. You're useless like this. Plus, no one would appreciate you spreading your icky cooties."

"It's germs." Aaron corrects and Matt merely shakes his head, pulling out his phone, probably texting the group chat that Aaron's out of commission.

In seconds, Coach and Kevin have barred Aaron from coming to court (Coach because he worries about all his Foxes and Kevin because he needs Aaron fully functional for defense). There are a few well wishes from his teammates. Aaron has no idea if they're being polite or if they genuinely care. Neil texts him "don't die" and that's the closest form of concern Aaron will get from the mafioso brat.

Nicky's immediately calling and promising to nurse him to health once practice is over. Andrew doesn't text nor call. That pissed him off, but Aaron is used to it. Not being acknowledged. He drinks his liquids and forces himself to finish the soup because Matt unfortunately gives a damn about him, going above and beyond as a roommate. He can see why Neil likes the upperclassman.

Aaron took some medicine already, the kind that makes one drowsy, and Katelyn texts that she'll take notes for him should he miss class this week. If he's got a fever, then Aaron should just sleep in a light bedsheet. He's a creature of habit, however, and he rationalizes that the soft and thick covers are a better texture for him to wrap up in a cozy cocoon. Has Aaron believing he's being tenderly hugged and he burrows under them in poor judgement, ignoring how uncomfortably sweaty he's getting.

When he wakes up some time later, not understanding how he fell asleep in the first place, mind all dazed, Andrew is there in his dorm. So is Nicky, but Aaron can only focus on Andrew's glaringly unexpected presence.

"My baby!" Nicky is dramatic as always. Mother henning like no other like he said he would.

Andrew isn't standing too far away from the bed, leaning against the door threshold, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. Eyes on Aaron.

"Where's your shadow?" Aaron pants out the question, fatigue beating his ass, and apparently invoking Neil's whereabouts must be a curse because he unintentionally summons a nasty coughing fit.

"Drink! Aaron! Drink!" Nicky presses a bottle to Aaron's lips while patting his back soothingly.

Andrew intently watches Aaron's body loosen at Nicky's gentle touch, tense muscles relaxing instantly. He lets Aaron's coughing subside before answering. "Didn't want to risk getting sick. Sends his regards."

Aaron would laugh if he had the energy and if his throat wasn't against him. Andrew produces a big bag of throat lozenges from thin air it seems and tosses it in Aaron's lap. It's the flavor Aaron likes the most be it gum, chapstick, candy: cherry. Why the fuck does Neil "Always Lying Little Shit" Josten know that?!

"You need to change out of these sweaty clothes, Aaron. I'll go get you my hoodie. The one you like to steal from me. I'll be right back!" Nicky darts out the door.

Andrew lifts a brow to Aaron. Aaron interprets that as Andrew being curious about the significance of Nicky's hoodie. It's a story, an untold bond that Aaron and Nicky share that Andrew isn't privy to. Maybe, he's being immature, but Aaron won't tell Andrew shit if he's not asked. Let his twin stew in unsaid inquiries. Aaron can be mysterious too. He's eager for Nicky to return, choosing to distract himself from Andrew's piercing gaze and patiently wait by recalling why he's needy of his cousin's hoodie.

Whenever Aaron's sick (which is rare these days since Andrew became a constant in his life) he wears one of Nicky's hoodies. It started when he was much younger, a consistent sickly child. His mom barely cared to check up on him and Nicky had forgotten to take some of his clothes when Luther had the Hemmicks stay over Tilda's for religious holiday dinners as a family. Aaron had slipped one of the forgotten hoodies on and felt engulfed in warmness, his mind pretending that he was in Nicky's welcoming arms, cradled and cooed over, feeling loved for a brief moment in the chaos when Tilda preferred dosing on medicine meant for the improvement of Aaron's health.

Nicky leaving means Aaron and Andrew are alone with each other. Aaron wouldn't mind if he weren't weak right now. He struggles to open the lozenges, popping one in his mouth to suck on after numerous tries. Andrew still leans on the threshold, watching him. Aaron snuggles into the covers more like it's a shield from all his troubles.

"What do you have?" Andrew's straight to the point.

"Fever." Aaron replies.

"To break a fever you need to stay cool." Andrew steps away from the threshold, steps closer to the bed. "Ditch the covers. Bedsheets are better."

Aaron defensively tugs the covers more around his body. "I like it." As if that's any decent excuse.

By now, Andrew's standing next to Aaron's sitting form. He studies how ruddy Aaron's face is, the damp hair stuck to his forehead. In one swift move, Andrew rips the covers off Aaron. He sees his stubborn twin shout in protest while being drenched in sticky sweat, t-shirt clinging like a second skin.

"No more of this." Andrew orders, pointing at the covers swathing Aaron and Aaron scowls.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"This isn't up for debate."

Before Aaron could spit out another retort, upset that his brother is right, and that he should listen, and that he knows better as a pre-med student but since it's Andrew bossing him around with piss poor bedside manner it triggers Aaron's obstinacy...

Words die on his tongue the moment Andrew's palm lies flat atop Aaron's head.

Oh. He's doing Bee's task. Andrew is patting Aaron. He's delicately touching Aaron in such a subduing way.

"Bedsheets only until it breaks, Aaron." Andrew reiterates, expression unchanging as Aaron's jaw drops and eyes widen owlishly. It's like he's one of those fierce wild animals that gets pet for the first time and is paralyzed by the foreign sensation.

"....Okay." Aaron is quelled effortlessly, chest warm, threat of a smile on his lips, and he hates that.

"Hmm." Andrew still pats Aaron on the head for a long time, the only indication he's not as impassive as he looks is the glint in his matching hazel eyes, something cooking in his mind with this new information.

Aaron's eyes get half-lidded, from the medicine, his fever, or the endorphins and serotonin from Andrew's hand in his hair - he has no idea. When it's clear Nicky's coming back by the sound of his loud footsteps, Andrew pulls his hand away and Aaron wished their cousin stayed away a little longer so he could enjoy the affection more.

"Here ya go!" Nicky holds up the hoodie proudly, cluelessly interrupting the twins building a bridge they didn't know they needed, and Aaron peels off his soaked shirt to trade for the hoodie.

"I'll go make you food. A Nicky Hemmick special that'll knockout the cooties lickety-split!"

He's gone again. Aaron is drowning in the hoodie, sleeves floppy, and he looks smaller than he really is. Andrew wordlessly thumbs the material, nodding in approval that it's thin enough and won't overheat Aaron should he sleep in the bedsheets.

"Rest." Andrew lingers, making certain Aaron lays back down and closes his eyes, on the verge of losing consciousness.

Aaron is halfway into dreamland, breathing slowing and thoughts escaping. He thinks he feels a featherlight stroking on his forehead that threads through his hair and contentedly sighs.

-------

It becomes a thing. Andrew patting Aaron's head at random.

Aaron is healthy. Kevin barks game plays at him and Aaron rolls his eyes. Neil teases him for having a fragile immune system and Aaron takes pleasure exaggeratingly coughing in his face. Nicky is being extra and Aaron has to shame him to calm it down.

Andrew acts the same towards him, sans the head pats.

"When did this happen?" Neil is so nosy.

"None of your business!" Aaron growls, and his anger is less effective when Andrew is disheveling his hair to the point that Aaron is positive it'll look like he's having a bad hair day.

"I think it's cute." Nicky beams, always a cheerleader for the twins to get along.

"Who cares?" Kevin holds a tray of the most unappetizing glasses of protein shakes. "Stop stalling and drink these."

"Uh, no freaking way." Neil scrunches his nose. "No one told you to make that."

"Our poor blender suffered for this concoction?" Nicky faux cries.

"It has banana in it." Kevin fails to persuade.

Aaron leans into Andrew's palm some more, impressed with himself for not feeling weird about accepting Andrew's affection in front of their friends. It's a big change for Andrew, too, being physically expressive to Aaron. They only do this when alone or with the Monsters, not when the rest of the Foxes can witness.

Nicky and Kevin are busy arguing over the ethics of milkshakes being sugary and tasty or protein fueled and disgusting. Neil grew bored and sets his sights on Aaron.

"Andrew's been patting your head for five minutes straight. Someone's clingy." Neil can choke and die, bastard.

Instead of his usual rise at the bait, Aaron takes a page from Bee to switch tactics, his body too relaxed to be argumentative.

"Don't be jealous." He imitates Bee's calm and collected voice, smirking smugly at Neil's offended face.

"I'm not-"

"Ooh, shots fired!" Nicky, able to sniff drama like a bloodhound, joyously applauds.

"Shut up, Nicky!"

"I'm just saying."

"Say less, then."

"Excuse me! I didn't make these shakes for them to be wasted!"

"Do you want to be killed, Kevin?"

-------

Bee's office still irritates Aaron.

"How was it?"

Andrew sips his hot cocoa. Aaron picks at a loose thread on his jeans.

"It went well, I suppose."

"How do you know that?" Aaron glares at her and she smiles sweetly.

"Well, you aren't complaining. That's a key indicator."

Aaron huffs and crosses his arms. Andrew never looks at Aaron. He looks at Bee.

"It was nice." He looks away from Bee, back to sipping hot cocoa.

Aaron snaps his head at Andrew, surprised. Bee furiously jots notes in her pad, her face pleased.

"Aaron? Was it nice for you, too?"

He hesitates, eyes still on Andrew. Aaron doesn't look at Bee. "....Yeah."

The session ends and they leave for the car. Neither talk. Aaron stares out the window. He practices on autopilot. He cracks open his textbooks and puts on background noise. His routine is back to normal.

And when he stresses over an upcoming test that Katelyn can't comfort him in, or Matt snitches to Neil that Aaron woke up from another nightmare from past traumas, or if he's passed out from exhaustion on the couch from overstimulation...

Andrew comes by somehow in the nick of time and pats him on the head and it's almost like what Aaron saw between siblings on TV/in the movies/after Exy little league games. He never knows when it's coming, but when it does, Aaron is internally over the moon about it.

Each time Andrew reaches out for him, Aaron sways into it, and pretends, perhaps even believes, it's his twin's way of subtly saying "good job/you're wanted/I love you."

After all, Aaron's training to be a doctor, and doctors have to learn how to read people and figure out the facts from fiction. So, Aaron figures it out.

Andrew's actions speak louder than words and Aaron's finally listening to them.

[thehatboxwitch]

omgg jing yuan + hybrid (bonus points if it’s a fox hybrid!!)

fem!reader \ kinktober

the room is kept dark and cool and quiet, just like a proper fox's den.

yet unlike a proper fox, you don't have a mate. and the heat, bubbling up within you, begging for a release, has no place to go.

you pace the room relentlessly. your wallpaper is scratched to pieces - you'd begged jing yuan to let you keep it, if only you had something to whittle down your insanity.

jing yuan...

you curl up in your bed as if in a trance, finding a piece of his clothing that you'd hidden away under all the blankets and pillows. it was wrong, you knew, for a hybrid to treat its owner as means for a release - but you could hardly care at this point.

you bury your nose into the cloth. his scent had nearly all but faded, but in this time of the month, all your senses were hyper-alert to a potential mate. and jing yuan…

a wave of ghostly pleasure has you trembling, fingers inching towards where you needed them the most. how many times had you chased your own release the past few days? yet it hadn’t seemed to improve your condition in the least.

as if on cue, someone taps at the door. “puppy? can i come in?”

your tail sweeps a couple of cushions off the bed in your enthusiasm. you weren’t a dog at all, but by the time jing yuan had found out, the nickname had already stuck. not that you minded. puppy sounded much better than fox.

“come in,” you call, stuffing his clothing back under the blankets.

the door creaks open and jing yuan pokes his head in. “how are you feeling?”

the sweet, fresh scent of jing yuan nearly sweeps you into a high. you can feel yourself leaking already, pussy clenching and unclenching just for him. the sight of his soft, white hair, kind face, and the slight outline in his pants…

“puppy? are you okay?” when you take too long to respond, he widens the door and steps through.

you feel frozen to your spot. there’s no way he can’t smell your desire for him, is there?

he kneels by the bed, reaching out to rub your ears. you press your face into his other hand, relishing in his redolent scent and gentle touch.

"jing yuan..." when you open your eyes, he's regarding you with an expression of such concern. "jing yuan, will you do anything to make me feel better?"

"i will, puppy." when you hook your fingers into his shirt, he obeys, coming up to sit on the edge of the bed. "what do you need?"

you tug him down with a sudden force - it's easy to forget that hybrids are part wild animal. "i need you, jing yuan, please..."

with your thighs open wide beneath him, exposing your soaked-through underwear, you see each miniscule expression pass over his face, his scent changing ever so subtly as jing yuan struggles to keep his arousal in check.

you put on your best puppy eyes. "please... it hurts so much..."

he exhales ever so slightly, before covering your eyes with a hand. you take two shaky breaths before you feel a slight pressure, tracing up and down your slit ever so lightly.

it takes every muscle in your body not to make a noise or move when you hear the sound of clothes being shed, and then a hot, heavy warmth against your mound.

"jing yuan..." you allow yourself a quiet whimper.

jing yuan pulls the corner of a blanket over your eyes in response. "don't look at me, puppy. or i'll feel too guilty to carry on..."

you nod, tail wagging eagerly.

he massages around the outside of your lower lips for a moment, rubbing your slick between his fingers. "you're so wet," he murmurs almost imperceptibly to himself. your ears twitch.

the pad of his thumb slides over your clit, pulsing under his touch. you're so sensitive that you shudder, struggling to keep your legs apart.

"be good," he whispers, and you feel his heat over your entire body before something hot and hard prods at your pussy.

"please," you all but beg. "please, please."

the tip slips in easily, and your whole body convulses as your walls ripple and suck him in greedily.

he groans, low and gravelly, a sound full of restraint and desire that you'd only heard through thin walls.

"you're so tight, puppy." jing yuan chuckles tightly, breathing hard. "no wonder you've been so down."

he kisses you sweetly, and you all but grind yourself into him, feeling every vein pulse and nudge against inside you.

"so good, so good, please, need more..."

"okay, okay." he pushes himself into you, and you cry out in pleasure, the tip kissing your cervix. he begins to thrust shallowly.

"not enough, not enough-" a growl slips into your voice and you bite it back, feeling your face warm.

jing yuan laughs. "anything for you, puppy."

he pulls himself clean out, giving you a moment of anticipation, and slams back into you.

you howl in pleasure, scratching at his skin. he sets a relentless pace, your back arching as he stimulates that ultra-sensitive spot within you. your hands fly to your clit, rubbing frantically, squirting pre-cum all over him.

jing yuan pants, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders until he's battering you into the mattress, his balls bouncing against your clit with every thrust.

"i'm cumming, i'm cumming-" the thought of jing yuan finishing inside of you, filling you up warmly, was enough to send you over the edge. "inside of me, please, please-"

your mind goes white, your body writhing and jerking as you cum the hardest you ever have, squirting all over his dick. dimly, you feel thick, hot ropes painting over your stomach, jing yuan groaning your name.

[kimsunos]

IM SO HAPPY UR INTO HYBRIDS OMFGGWHSI

gawd ok it's cliche but idc, bunny!reader and fox!sunoo, horny x horny lmao

going at it for hours on the regular all while being loud asf and not giving a shit abt anything, sooo many quickies and heats go even crazier dare i say it'd make satan blush, a match made in hell for others lmao.

hii baby! dont even know if youre into it still because i made you wait too much for it and for that i apologize 😢 but nonetheless i LOVE rambling about hybrids so here goes nothing.. Also this is very long for no reason

cw: female reader, fox!sunoo, bunny!reader, dom!sunoo, sub!reader, primal play, kinda perv!sunoo (gasp), biting kink, degradation, dacryphillia, dumbification, breeding kink, name calling (bunny, bitch, etc), spit play? (sunoo licks her lmao), sunoo is a sly fox 🧐 also he says "bunny" a lot.

your parents, since you were little, warned about the precautions needed to take as a prey. and as a family of rabbit hybrids, you were, of course, a bunny with big, fuzzy ears on top of your head and a toothy, cute, happy smile.

you always thought this judgement your parents and all the older rabbits had towards predators was stupid. "don't go near wolves", "don't talk to lions", "bears can smell you from miles away", "never trust foxes". this is modern times, we are not savages anymore! oh, if you had just listened to their advice.

"you can't imagine how long i've been dreaming about this." said sunoo, the gentle fox hybrid that every day ordered a drink at the coffee shop you worked, now, not as gentle, as he pushes your head on the mattress and thrusts mercilessly into your pussy from behind. you'd never have imagined that the date and the shy kiss you shared at the end of your work hours would end this way.

"bunny... my bunny," he said, voice intoxicated with desire, and slowed down his movements, lowered himself to rest his bare chest against your back and slowly dragged his nose from your cheek to your neck, sniffing in your scent gland, absorbing it like a hungry man. "oh, god, your scent..." another big sniff, "always drove me crazy, bunny. did you know that?"

with your face on the mattress, you could only whine and wiggle your fluffy tail, voice muffled by the pillow, falling into the pleasure of his cock making you feel so full. sunoo laughed, his movements now at a quicker pace.

"you're so fucking innocent, baby," another laugh, his breath unsteady, going deep at you, hips doing wonders to reach your most sensitive spots. "you really thought i was just a nice guy, huh? coming everyday at your job, sitting at that table in the back... such a nice costumer, big tips too." you could hear the smirk in his voice, condescending tone, his sharp nails drawing circles on your back, gracious movements contrasting with the mess he's making of you. "the truth is, i could barely contain myself in that small cafe, bunny." his scratches would for sure be visible the next day. "so ready to please and so naive. bet you didn't even notice the way my hands would always find yours, the way i watched your movements... or did you?" you whined as he talked. "remember when i offered a bite of that brownie to you? and you sucked on the plastic spoon like a bitch in heat, hungry eyes on mine and shit?"

no verbal response from you but a clench, embarrassed to be caught red-handed. such unwise actions, bunny. a rabbit flirting with a fox? really? and you still had the audacity to think you were in control.

"fucking answer me, bitch." sunoo yanked you by your furry ears, hard enough to lift your body off the mattress, placing your back against his chest again, making you moan loudly. his movements getting faster, skin on skin noises mixing with the red-haired boy's animalistic grunts and your cries.

"s-sun, slow d-down, ple-"

"oh, bunny," he laughs. "you want me to slow down? hm?~" hand still with a firm grip on your ears, causing you to bend your neck in an almost uncomfortable position, if it wasn't for the pleasure washing over all your other emotions. "p-poor bunny, can't handle big dick? this is what you're made for, can't you even do that?" and there you were, crying, overwhelmed by the degradation and how it made your insides even more wet.

"oh, god," his hips hitting even faster now, you could feel him losing all his control. "god, f-fuck- bunny, don't do this to me~" he said, releasing your ears to grip your hips, you could only cry. turning your head sideways, you meet his foxy eyes and vertical pupils now blown out in complete insanity, seeing you cry, your most prey-like state, ears down in submission and everything, it made the predator in him fucking crazy. "bunny- b-bunny, my bunny-" he started licking your tears away, chanting your name like in a trance. "b-bunny, i'll make you m-mine, 'mmkay? will y-you let me?" he kissed your neck, stopping to paint your skin with hickeys then and there. "s-stuff you full of me, baby, knock you up real good, hm?~" his voice was whiny and loud as he bit you, sharp fangs poking at your neck, and another bite, and another, almost like trying to literally eat you alive.

"nnngh- oh, s-sunoo, s'deep, f-full." you mutter, no thoughts behind your eyes.

"shhh, baby- i know, r-right?~ don't worry, turn off your brain, l-let me do the thinking for you."

[azureyemberzz]

💖🍁Maple Moon🍁💖

This is a Kazuha x Reader fanfic/fluff I made for @ticklish-n-stuff that revolves around receiving birthday tickles. (Happy very belated Birthday honey)

Kazuha x reader (romantic) [platonic if you really squint]

Ler!Kazuha Lee!Reader Gen-neutral reader 1,889 words

🍁🍂🌸 🍁🍂🌸 🍁🍂🌸 🍁🍂🌸 🍁🍂🌸 🍁🍂🌸

It was sunny and warm. Today was your birthday of all days. You had found yourself lost in what to do. Having wanted to find a place of solace to relax, you make your way down past the trees, taking a breath in to enjoy the scent of nature and the comfort of the sun's rays. 

“I heard it was your birthday today”

A collected and warm voice sounds from behind you. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Kazuha? What brings you here?”

You ask, turning to face the samurai who stood before you. His eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he smiles and nods to acknowledge you. Walking closer, he makes his voice softer, just like the breeze that faintly tickles at your skin, answering you with his presence and a long-winded question of his own. 

“I just so happen to have a very keen sense of hearing. My ears pick up all sorts of sounds: the wind through the mountain passes, the parting clouds, the sound of foxes chewing on apples in the forest. This has allowed me to sense danger long before it has drawn near. It also has allowed me to overhear the hushed desires of your heart.”

There’s a pause between the two of you; the midday sun reflecting rays down on you both. Kazuha moves to stand in the way of the light, shielding you with his shadow before he continues. The daylight makes his hair glow, the small red streak almost blazing in the sun; The small bits of metal he carries on his person also sparkle. You can’t help but indulge yourself in staring, as he continues to speak. 

“Several pardons for the overhearing. That being said,  I’d like to make those desires of yours come true, that is, if you’re willing to allow me”

All you could do was stare, stunned at the swordsman in front of you. You were admittedly distracted. You had forgotten you were murmuring about your desire to be tickled on your special day. There’s no way he heard you murmur to yourself about wanting traces and tummy tickles of all things …right? After all, you'd be so embarrassed if he did…

Slightly flustered, you decide you can’t make him wait much longer for an answer, even though Kazuha was the type to wait for anyone. 

“…you don’t have to “

“Ah, but I want to.”

Kazuha softly interjects, reassuring and shutting down any self-doubt you had. His eyes are pure, full of patience and acceptance, encouraging you to ask for what you really would like on your special day of birth.  

Finding yourself looking at the ground, you can't help but smile. Already feeling loved by how Kazuha speaks to you, It takes you several moments, but due to Kazuha's acceptance and patience, you find yourself comfortable enough to ask for what you actually want today. To be loved… and of course, to be tickled.  

“Then, Kazuha… can you give me traces …and tickle me; Please?”

At your shy request, the samurai’s smile extends to his eyes. He gently takes hold of your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze, his plain and bandaged thumbs rubbing over each of them in a reassuring, comforting fashion.  

Kazuha's fingers glide down your skin, tracing from your shoulders down to your elbows. His thumbs gently dip into the bend of your arm. The pull of his fingers on the back of your elbows guides you to step closer to him. It’s almost romantic how gentle he is, the warrior criminally beautiful bathed in the sun. Ah, you’re distracted again…

“Why, of course. Just be warned, I’m quite… thorough when it comes to fulfilling a promise for ones I treasure as much as the moon itself.”

 

He  answers, both amused yet eager to continue once you give the okay

 

“Are you sure you’re ready, little moon?”

Flattered yet confused, you can’t help but ask what he had meant.

“Little moon?”

“Mm, I feel that the luminescence of the moon, its charming glow, and beautiful phases seem to suit you. This side of you you’re sharing with me right now, full of vulnerability and bravery is a phase of you I’d like to experience again.”

Kazuhas hums. His hands, already at your elbows, now slide down your forearms to your wrists. For what’s only a second, his fingers curl around your wrists in a loose, claw-like hold, allowing the nails of his left hand to trace the sensitive skin on the inside of your wrist. As the fleeting moment passes, he takes your hands into his.  Your fingertips being held by both of his. He rubs his thumb along the joints of your fingers. 

“So then, let us move a bit deeper into this tranquil forest, away from that of the wandering eye, little moon” 

Kazuha answers, a smile heard within his tone as he lifts your hand to his lips, placing a gentlemanly chaste kiss on your skin before gently letting go, his other hand holding onto your free one, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both travel a bit deeper into the forest.

“This scenery is wonderful... Surely enough to convince anyone to become a wanderer”

Kazuha softly interjects, his voice breaking the silence of the wind, speaking not to just himself, but to the forest around you both.

As you both walk deeper into the forest, you can feel Kazuha squeeze your hand, rubbing his thumb along the back for reassurance. Eventually, the woods begin to thin out, and the two of you walk into a bright open clearing with a quiet stream that runs through the middle. It’s bright and warm, much like his hand…

“This is one of my favorite places to be. In the fall, the maple trees look like amber and honey, like a fire next to the sky. Come with me”

You find yourself being guided to a large smooth rock, big enough for the both of you. Kazuha pats the warm stone with his hand, guiding you to sit next to him. Gosh, he smells like fresh grass and the open air. He looks so at peace here with you. You wonder what it would be like to hug him…

“Clear weather all around brightens the heart”

Oh, right, he was talking, you were too focused on his hand in yours

“My dear moon, I cannot wait to hear the melody of your laughter. Tell me, traveler…”

Kazuha starts, sliding his hand from yours, tracing his bandaged hand up and down the skin of your arm. 

“Your spirit seems to be the protective kind. Is your …tummy what’s ticklish the most? You’ve been shrinking away despite having been so brave as to make your birthday wish to me.”

He coos, his reddish eyes pouring deep into your own. His bandaged hand moves across your shoulders rubbing back and forth across your upper back

”There is no need to be embarrassed. It’s admirable and an honor that you’re able to trust me. I like frank people because we can freely speak our minds to one another. There is no need to hide anything that you wish to say. I hear the voices of all things in nature, and that includes yours.”

He continues while soothing you, getting you used to his touch. Gently, he pulls you in for a side hug while you focus on the river in front of you. You can feel him close to you, his thumb on your shoulder

“Like this”

He speaks, just above a whisper, guiding you to lay across his lap, tummy up. Your head resting on the rock. You feel him shift, taking off the top layer of his haori coat. He folds it and gently lifts your head, placing it underneath. You find yourself raising your arms by your head slightly, wordlessly asking for him to hold your wrists. Being the observant man he is, Kazuha notices and guides your wrists above your head. 

“May I?”

At the nod of your head, Kazuha's fingers wrap around both of your wrists as you lay sprawled out over his lap. He starts slow and teasing, tracing swirls and patterns over your ribs and tummy to build suspense. 

“There are leaves around — and I know just the tune to accompany them, if you wish to hear it. …that tune being your laughter~”

Kazuha interjects into the open air, whispering the last line close to your ear. His laugh tickles your skin, your smile widening, only for you to gasp when his fingers slide under your shirt to scribble at your ribs. 

Your breath hitches, and your smile stretches wide as giggles begin to spill from your lips. His grip on your wrists firmly presses you down into the fabric of his coat

“You’re a cute little one; This is quite fun. Your smile is as beautiful as the moon”

He muses, a smile evident in his voice. You can feel your face grow hot, only to squeal when his fingers move down to your tummy

“Oh my. Little Moon likes this spot, do they?”

Kazuhas scribbles turn to circular traces around your navel while you giggle and nod. His swirling gets faster as he gets closer to your navel. The swordsman giggles alongside you and looks down at you in adoration. When fingers scratch at the entrance to your navel, you jolt slightly, causing him to chuckle again, sliding his finger in. The samurai works with precision and care, wiggling and pressing against your belly button over and over as laughter starts to make you lightheaded. The only thing you’re able to focus on is giggles along with your own

“Hehehe tickle tickle tickle!~”

You find yourself squealing with delight, kicking and squirming, unable to break free. Kazuha watches your reactions the entire time, making sure not to push you too far, while also making you dizzy with joy. Just when you’re aware that he’s stopped, you feel his lips against your tummy. Before you can reply, he blows a very long raspberry into your skin. The buzzing causes you to shriek and try to curl up. Only then does he lean back, still holding your wrists while you catch your breath. 

Once you look a bit more aware, he leans over you, placing a kiss on your forehead and sliding something into your hands before leaning back and letting go. When you look, it’s a red braided bracelet with little maple leaf charms. Before you can express your gratitude, Kazuha begins to speak. You sit up, interrupting him with a hug. 

“I felt like something made from the heart would be a better g- oof! Hahaha, I take it you like it then?”

Kazuha chuckles softly as his voice lifts into question with a smile full of mirth. His arms returned the hug, his hold protective.

“Oh Kazuha, of course, I love it.”

You reply as you hug him. His soft hair against your face, his body warm and cozy. You could almost cry. When you pull away from the hug, kazuhas hands rest on your biceps. He looks surprised at first, noting the tears of joy in your eyes. Then, he smiles

“Happy birthday my little moon”

Kazuha replies, lifting his hand to your face. His thumb brushed away the tear. 

You were warm, you were happy, and you felt loved. A happy birthday indeed. 

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[geotjwrs]

make you mine (18+)

Pairings ; Jennifer Check (Megan Fox) x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; smut, dominant Jennifer/submissive reader, dirty talk

Jennifer and Y/N had been together for years, but their relationship was far from perfect. Tonight, they had a big fight, and Y/N knew he had pushed Jennifer too far this time. He felt terrible about his previous treatment of her and wanted to make amends, but he wasn't sure how to approach her.

After some time had passed, he mustered up the courage to go to Jennifer and apologize. She was still visibly upset, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she listened to his words. Y/N felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he spoke, knowing he had to make things right between them.

"Baby, I'm so sorry for what I said earlier. I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse for how I treated you. I love you, and I want to make things right."

Jennifer slowly unfolded her arms, her expression softening slightly. But she didn't respond to his apology, instead standing up and turning to walk away. Y/N couldn't let her leave like this, so he gripped tight on her waist, making her stop in her tracks.

Jennifer tried to pull away, but he held on tight, his fingers digging into her soft skin. She was strong, but Y/N was too focused to keep her close. Y/N felt a surge of desire for his beautiful, feisty girlfriend, and he knew what needed to be done to make things right between them.

He released her waist and, instead, went behind Jennifer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight backhug. She melted into his embrace, her body relaxing against his. Y/N felt his heart swell with love as he held her close, knowing this was the first step towards making things right.

As Jennifer leaned back into him, Y/N began to tease her, his lips brushing against her neck and ear. She let out a soft moan, her body responding to his touch. Y/N could feel her heart racing against his chest, and he knew she was feeling the same intense desire he felt.

Jennifer turned around to face Y/N, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. She bit his lower lip, drawing a moan from him as she deepened the kiss. Y/N's hands roamed over her body, feeling the curves he knew so well. Jennifer's hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer to her.

As they lay in bed, Y/N decided to take a different approach. Instead of trying to force a conversation, he simply held Jennifer close, gently running his fingers through her hair. She tensed at first, but as the minutes passed, she began to relax.

Y/N took this opportunity to tease Jennifer, lightly brushing his fingers against her lips. She instinctively sucked on his finger, her eyes closed in pleasure. Y/N felt a stirring in his groin, the anticipation of what was to come making him more aroused than ever before.

He continued to caress Jennifer's lips, gently biting and pinching her nipples as she let out soft moans of pleasure. Jennifer arched her back, her body responding to Y/N's touch. She loved the way he knew exactly how to pleasure her, how to make her forget about her anger and focus solely on the moment.

As Y/N's fingers dipped lower, exploring Jennifer's most sensitive areas, she couldn't help but squirm with desire. She let out a soft gasp as Yn's fingers found her clit, gently rubbing it in a circular motion. He watched her face, her expressions of pleasure fueling his own desire.

Y/N knew that Jennifer loved to dominate him, to take control during their intimate moments. So, he let her take the lead, allowing her to guide him as she desired. Jennifer's eyes locked onto Y/N's, her lips parting as she began to speak in a hushed voice, "I want you to lay down, Yn. I'm going to show you what it means to be truly mine."

Y/N felt a shiver run down his spine as he obeyed Jennifer's command. He lay down on the bed, his heart racing with anticipation. Jennifer straddled him, her eyes never leaving his. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I'm going to make you mine, Y/N. I'm going to show you just how much I own you."

Jennifer's words sent a jolt of desire through Y/N's body. He felt helpless, completely under Jennifer's spell. She began to tease him, her hands running up and down his chest, leaving marks on his skin. Y/N moaned, feeling both pleasure and pain as Jennifer's nails dug into his flesh.

As Jennifer continued to explore Y/N's body, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of power. She loved the way he responded to her touch, the way he surrendered to her completely. She knew that she could do anything she wanted to him, and he would never say no.

As Y/N's hands began to wander, Jennifer felt a familiar urge to mark him. She grabbed his hand, guiding it to her lips as she sucked on his fingers. Y/N watched, transfixed by the sight of Jennifer's lips wrapped around his fingers. He felt a surge of desire, knowing that he was hers, completely and utterly.

Jennifer's hands moved lower, exploring Y/N's abs. She loved the way his muscles tensed under her touch, the way he moaned as she left her mark on his skin. She knew that she would never get tired of this, of the way Y/N's body responded to her every touch.

Yn's eyes widened as Jennifer's hands moved to his chest, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake. She knew he loved the marks she left on his skin, and it only made him want her more. Yn let out a soft groan as Jennifer's lips brushed against his neck, her teeth gently nibbling at his skin.

Jennifer pulled away, her eyes meeting Y/N's once again. "Take off your pants," she commanded, her voice firm. Y/N obeyed instantly, his eyes never leaving hers as he removed his pants. Jennifer's eyes roamed over his naked body, her gaze lingering on the bruises she had created.

Y/N watched as Jennifer slowly undressed, revealing her perfect body to him. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan as she stood before him, completely naked and completely his. Jennifer smiled, stepping closer to Y/N and pressing her body against his.

"You're mine, Y/N," she whispered in his ear, her voice low and sultry. "And I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll never forget it."

Her hands roaming over his body as she climbed on top of him. Y/N could feel her wetness against his thigh, and he knew she was as ready for him as he was for her. Jennifer straddled Y/N, her eyes locked onto his as she guided his cock inside her.

Y/N let out a soft groan as Jennifer began to ride him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Jennifer's hands gripped Y/N's shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she pushed herself deeper onto his cock. Y/N could feel the tension building within him, his body responding to Jennifer's expert touch.

Jennifer leaned forward, her lips brushing against Y/N's ear as she whispered dirty words to him. "You like that, baby? You like it when I fuck you like this?" Y/N could only groan in response, his hips bucking against Jennifer's as she rode him harder and faster.

Jennifer's hands moved to Y/N's chest, her nails leaving red trails in their wake. Y/N let out a soft moan as she increased her pace, his body trembling with desire. Jennifer knew just how to push Y/N's buttons, and she loved watching him squirm beneath her.

Y/N's hands gripped Jennifer's hips, pulling her down onto his cock as he thrust upwards. Jennifer let out a soft moan, her body responding to Y/N's expert touch. Y/N could feel his orgasm building within him, his body tensing as he neared the edge.

Jennifer's lips brushed against Y/N's, her tongue darting out to tease his mouth. Y/N groaned, his hands gripping Jennifer's ass as he continued to fuck her. Jennifer's eyes met Y/N's, her voice husky with desire.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me and show me how much you love me." Y/N could only groan in response, his body trembling as he reached his climax. Jennifer's nails dug into Y/N's chest as she came, her body shuddering with pleasure.

Y/N held Jennifer close as they lay in bed, their bodies entwined and their hearts beating as one. Jennifer's eyes met her boyfriend's, her voice soft and tender.

"I love you, Y/N," she whispered, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "And I promise to never make you feel that way again."

Y/N pulled Jennifer even more closer, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he drifted off to sleep. Y/N whispered back into Jennifer's ear, "I love you too, Jennifer. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

Jennifer smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that she would eventually forgive Y/N for his mistakes, but for now, she needed to hold onto her anger, if only to protect herself from getting hurt again. He knew that tonight had been a turning point in their relationship, and he was grateful for the chance to make things right with the woman he loved.

[scorpioriesling]

Dream Come True

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Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warnings: light swearing

Summary: When Elain rejects the mating bond, the High Lord of Autumn spares no sympathy for his youngest son (well… you know. Anyways.) Hosting a ball with all the most eligible maidens in the court, you are of course eligible and happy to attend, wishing from afar for so many years — but, you decide to take a different approach to hopefully win his heart.

SR’s Note: *sigh* this is my current favorite art for my favorite fox boy… did I stare at it for way too long? Maybe. Anyways, here’s the fic. Enjoy! xoxo

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Honestly, you couldn't understand what the fuck was wrong with the Archeron girl.

First of all, she was blessed enough to look the way she did -- not that you wanted to look just like her, you would thank the Mother every day and night for blessing you with such lovely parents of your own who'd only pass on their best genes to you. But, she didn't have to try so damn hard to catch the eye of every male in Prythian, just with the swoosh of her skirt or the toss of her hair over her shoulder.

It sure caught the eye of the youngest Vanserra.

Her mate.

Don't even begin with her newfound Cauldron-blessed gift, either. It seemed like everywhere she went, all that was talked about was, "Ooh! Elain, the seer" or "have you been seeing anything new?" blah blah blah, I mean really -- how much longer will we hyperfixate on this? On her? Long gone was talk of her younger sister, the one who literally saved the land from Hybern's hand. You wondered if she ever grew as tired of her sister's attention as you did, not that you knew the Cursebreaker personally.

However, none of it mattered the 28th night of September. You'd been working that evening in the Autumn Palace, completing the tasks assigned as the Lady of Autumn's first assistant when you heard probably the best rumors to ever grace your ears. Beron had been passing you in the hall with his oldest son Eris, and you spared both of them a nod as they passed. Eris returned the small smile, having known you for years, but you didn't expect much from his father, knowing how cruel he was even with his own wife. You also didn't expect to hear the conversation they were having, but you slowed your pace as they continued in the opposite direction down the corridor from you.

"The girl said she wanted the bond broken," Beron muttered in a menacing tone. Eris sighed, and your breath hitched.

"What do you think Lucien-" Eris started.

"I'm not asking Lucien what he thinks. We won't deal with some ignorant wench who doesn't know what she wants. I'm not surprised she doesn't want to deal with him, but I won't deal with the scandal of him going unmated..." Beron's cruel tone fades as the pair rounds the corner of the corridor, and you brace yourself on one of the credenzas along the wall for a moment. Elain wants to break the bond? There's no way. You look up, eyes catching on your reflection in the dimly lit mirror hung on the wall. Was she really so unhappy that she would ask to break something so sacred, with someone as special as Lucien?

You took a steadying breath, forcing your feet to keep carrying you and your completed task sheet to the Lady of Autumn's office. You could barely focus; what was Lucien going to do? How was he feeling? You remembered all of the times you'd stolen glances at him, all the memories of hearing his warm but rare laugher through these very halls with his brothers over the years. He wasn't around as much anymore, but that didn't stop the desire that still warmed your heart at the thought of him.

"Thank you for your assistance, Y/N," the Lady of Autumn's voice was a warm caress as you laid down the task sheet upon her desk. "You're free to go for the evening."

With a nod you made for the door, but instead of heading for the front of the palace, you made way for the back stairwell, one that led to the private bedrooms. You knew your way around this place as you'd worked here for years, becoming rather close with the family and the boys that lived here. You counted the doors: one, two, three on the right side, and gave the third door a soft knock. Within moments, it was unlatched and a familiar pair of mahogany eyes met yours.

"Oh... hello, Y/N," Eris steps back, allowing you into his room before his father caught on somehow that you were still here. You silently slipped inside, as you'd done so many times before and taken a seat on the edge of his mattress. He perched near the top by his pillows, and offerred a quizzical look. "What brings you-"

"I need to know. I need to know about Lucien." You cut in. Eris' face immediately softened in realization. You'd been in this position many a time, coming to Eris with your concerns about his brother and him confiding his own feelings in you. This is what drew the two of you so close and provided a friendship so precious you knew you had to keep secret, as Beron was unpredictable and could use it as a weapon in a time of his own need.

"Elain... she asked Helion today to break their bond. He told my father right after she'd requested it." His hand found yours, and you loosed a breath. Your heart constricted, only imagining what Lucien must be going through right now.

"And... and Lucien? Was he-" Eris only shakes his head. Your sadness turns to anger, and you yank your hand back. You rise from the bed, beginning to pace back and forth in his room as traitorous thoughts cloud your mind.

"So, he wasn't even there? He doesn't even know?" You say, voice rising in octave. Eris leans forward, pressing a forefinger to his lips and shushing you.

"Shhhh, he likely knows by now," he says soothingly. But it doesn't matter. You feel as though your rage is bubbling over like the milky substance of the Caldron.

"Yeah. You're right, he probably knows -- I'm sure it probably hurts pretty fuckin' bad when a cord inside of you just... just..." You're throwing your hands in the air, fists clenched and shaking. "...breaks right in half out of nowhere-" Eris is instantly on his feet, taking both of your wrists in his, eyes searching yours in all seriousness.

"Y/N." He says solemnly. "You have to calm down. Someone is going to hear you, okay?" He says calmly. Your breath is heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands still grip your wrists mid-air. He lets go, moving one hand to brush the stray hairs sticking to your face behind your ear, clinging to your forehead with the sweat you've worked up. "Just, take a deep breath, okay? I'm not too keen on it either, but this isn't my situation to have an opinion on, alright? We have to try and remember that."

You take his words into consideration, wiping your perspirating hands on your smock and breathing deeply. He takes a step back from you, allowing you your space and returning to sit on the bed. You follow, rubbing your hands over your face in defeat.

"My father doesn't want this to be a big thing," he continues, and you move your hands to look at him. He peers at the patch of bedsheets between the two of you, appearing to zone out as he continues. "He thinks if he finds someone else for Lucien quickly, the whole bond "thing" won't cause too much talk and Lu will be able to get over it faster or something." You roll your eyes, scoffing.

"That's the most rediculous thing I've ever heard." You say.

"I know." He replies. You shake your head, biting your bottom lip.

"What's he planning to do? Line someone up for Lucien to wed instead?" You ask. You really don't want to know the answer -- hearing he had a mate was already heart-wrenching enough, now hearing he would be betrothed to another would be even worse.

"He's planning to have a courting ceremony in two days, in the palace," he says. You perk up.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," he continues, eyes sliding to yours with a mischevious grin. "Now, don't get your hopes up, but he's only inviting the most eligible maidens and High Fae to attend, but anyone in attendance would technically have the right to Lucien's hand, if he accepts it. I've known a sly fox like you long enough that-"

"You know I'll find a way in." You finish. He chuckles.

"You also have to get him to say yes." You heart sinks a little. With Eris, its always been so easy -- the conversations, the getting along, the understanding. But, you started working here not too long before Lucien was on his way out the door. You could only pray you would be able to talk to him the same as his brother.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. I'm sure when Lu sees how charming you can be, he'd be stupid not to take your hand." Eris flashes an award-winning smile, and you can't help but feel hopeful by his tone.

You only hope you can pull this off without a hitch.

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The deep violet dress you wore clung to every curve, the soft fabric scrunching in all the right places as it brushed the against your legs and drug along the leaf-littered ground behind you. You'd allowed your hair out of your usual braid for tonight, the long wavy tendrils sweeping down your exposed back, locks illuminated by the moonlight. You had to admit, you did appreciate the way you looked when you put in some effort -- you'd do it everyday, only for him.

"Y/N," Eris' soft whisper-shout echoes from the illuminated doorway as you round the corner of the palace, just where you'd arranged to meet. Turns out, sneaking into the ball was a lot easier than you'd thought; Beron was too busy in the throne room to pay any mind to where his oldest son was, which of course, was helping you enter through one of the unguarded back entrances.

"Wow," he breathes, pulling the heavy door closed and ushering you inside. "You're a vision." You blush, swatting his arm.

"Well, while I appreciate the compliment," you state. "Let's hope your brother reciprocates the sentiment."

Eris chuckles. "He would be a damned fool not to." You followed closely behind him as he led you down corridor after corridor, some unfamiliar at first as he peered around the corners before leading you down the halls. The sound of people talking rang out, and you heard the approaching throne room, recognising more of your surroundings. You placed a hand on Eris' arm, the fabric of his ornate jacket rough under your touch.

"You go in first," you say.

"Are you sure?" He asks, a tender look in your friend's eye.

You give him a knowing look. "Yes, your father would be suspicious if we walk in together." He nods, opening the doors a slit and slipping inside. You take a deep breath, wringing your hands and grounding yourself once more. You were finally going to have a chance, a chance to see him again tonight - and try your very best to not mess this all up.

Opening the door, you inch inside, hoping to not catch the eye of Beron or the Lady of Autumn -- youwere, after all, not "technically" invited to this thing after all. Luckily, you'd waited long enough that their attention had drifted back to the dancefloor and Eris had made it to their side by now, and only he was looking to you as you slid along the wall noiselessly blending in with the crowd.

Your gaze searched the scene, looking for a certain redhead. Of course, Eris stood out among the crowd of beautiful maidens, all adorning lovely full gowns and makeup much more extravagant than your own. Guess you didn't get the memo. Nonetheless, you see a few of Lucien's brothers making their rounds as well, girls shamelessly flirting with them too. However, the Vanserra you were seeking was nowhere to be found.

That is, until a few moments later when Beron rose and cleared his throat.

"Good evening to everyone," he began and the room quieted. You slunk deeper into the shadows, trying to remain hidden as he peered out into the crowd.

"Thank you all for attending this rather, special, evening," he chuckles. Eris rolls his eyes at his father's indecency. You can't help but do the same as a few girls near you giggle in excitement.

"I would like to present my son of the evening, the most eligible and willing bachelor, Lucien Vanserra," he says. Lucien stalks out from the entrance beyond the thrones, and many of the ladies in the room gasp and giggle. You can't help but widen your eyes at his presence. You had to admit, his beauty was incomparable.

"Allow the ball to commence!" Beron ends his stupid announcement with that, and Lucien's stoic expression has your gaze dropping, remembering how hard this must be from him. Women all around are fluttering about, some gossiping, some flanking his side immediately -- Gods, that must be so suffocating. Your gaze meets Eris', and he tosses you a wink, motioning with his hands in a way that indictates give him some time. You then watch him glance at the incessant ladies pouncing on Lucien, and see him grimace and shake his head. You giggle, and head for the table of treats along the wall. If you have to wait your time, that's fine -- you'd been playing the long game for this long anyways, what was a few more hours?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Yes, you'd been crushing from afar for so long -- but now that you shared air, it was a lot harder to stay on a long leash.

Watching him share dance after dance with beautiful fae after beautiful fae was... well, hurtful. You knew what you wanted, well... what you damn near needed, but you also knew that you needed to wait for the right moment.

What did you have that these ladies didn't?

All night, you looked around, comparing -- they were gorgeous, all High Fae, all much more glamorous than you. But, did they know him? No. Did they have much of a personality, or were they just here in hopes of being married off to the High Lord's newly-available son?

You needed to take the different approach.

And, hiding out by the food tables would not get you noticed.

You knew by the look on Lucien's face that he was getting tired of dancing the same dance, over and over and over. Having the same conversations, over. And over. And over. Sooner or later, he'd need an escape, and you knew this place like the back of your hand.

So where would he go?

You slipped outside, to the vast expanse of the private balcony off the throne room and rested your arms on the marble railing. Eris didn't miss your exit, suggesting to his brother a breath of fresh air, which he was happy to oblige in. You would have to remember to thank him later.

"Uhh, miss? This is a private balcony-"

You turn, hair brushing over your shoulder with the movement. Your eyes meet his, and heat floods your cheeks at the realization that the moment has finally come. The moonlight illuminates every russet freckle on his skin, the color matching his iris as his eyes widen in his own realization.

"Y/N?" He whispers, taking a tentative step toward you. You crack a half smile. You shrug your shoulders.

"In the flesh."

He walks quickly over to you, gasping and wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you in so tight, and your arms wrap around his neck. He laughs against your neck, the sound as light and magnificent as the stars above. You inhale deep, his scent of amber and sunshine warming you to the core.

"I can't believe this, I... I haven't seen you in forever, I mean... how... wait, how are you here?" He chuckles again, releasing you. You wish he would hold you forever, but you pull back to look at him. He's still smiling down at you, a mere foot from you now, his hands still resting on the small of your waist.

"Well... you know I would never be invited to this sort of thing but... I've never exactly played by the rules." You wink at him, and he rolls his eyes, laughing heartly once more. He inhales fully and lets it go, gazing once more at you.

"Ohhhh, Y/N, it sure is good to see you again. And no, you never have played by any kind of rules," he shakes his head, and you register your hands still softly bracing his biceps. You grin up at him, and he seems to realize the intimacy at the same time you do. He releases you in that moment, moving to the balcony and loosing a breath, looking out at the Autumn Court beyond. You move to stand next to him, feeling his body heat even from a few feet away.

"Can you believe my dad would do such a rediculous thing like this?" He asks after a few beats of silence. You chew your lip, sneaking a glance at him. His jaw is tight as he continues to look straight ahead.

"Honestly... yeah. He is... he is somethin'." You say. Lucien turns, facing you once more.

"Has he gotten worse since I left?" He asks. You think for a moment, and his eyes search yours.

"I mean... I don't know. I talk more with your mom. He's still, well, cruel, not with me in particular, but with just everyone, I guess." He swears under his breath.

"I should have never left." He says. You place a hand over his and he glances down at it, then back out at the court, swallowing thickly. "None of this would have ever happened. I would have never met Elain. It never would have gotten worse here. I would have never-"

"Hey hey hey, don't say that," you say. He gazes at you again. You smile kindly at him. "We're all okay here -- the only thing that got worse was how much we all missed you." You trace a vein atop his hand and he breathes in deep, eyes fluttering down, then back up to yours, growing darker. "Well... how much I missed you, anyways."

He smiles softly. "Is that so?" He says quietly, and you nod.

"And... Elain is... so... so blind for not seeing the amazing man she's missing out on..." you lift your gaze to meet his eyes, and he slides his empty hand to your hip, pulling you close. He pulls you so close that you're sharing a breath as he practically whispers the next words into your mouth.

"Honestly... I might be glad she broke the bond. She is nothing compared to what I've been missing out on."

His lips press to yours, and you can only feel a rush of golden fireworks inside as his fingers brush through your hair, moving to cup your jaw and stroke your cheek. His lips move, kissing you sesually as your hands hold onto his shoulders, finally reveling in the moment you'd only dreamed would come true.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

[classicrocknlove]

~Jimmy Page Fanfiction~

Spread Your Wings

“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”

-

Chapter Thirteen (PART TWO)

(Explicit Content Below)

Late Night/Early Morning Hours at The Drake Hotel, New York City - July 30th, 1973

-

Cynthia’s P.O.V.

“…I want to taste you, Cynthia…” Jimmy’s voice echoed in my mind as I registered what he had just proposed to me.

He was still peering down at me, his delicate, cherub face making for an aggressive contrast to his passionate, sultry desires and nature.

“Cynthia… did you hear what I said, love?” He asks, now a softer expression upon his face.

He leans down toward me as I nod feverishly, not able to form any coherent words as I think about what’s about to happen.

I had never had anyone go down on me before.

It was never an activity that Jack and I had discussed, nor partook in. Our sexual preferences had always remained vanilla throughout our relationship, seemingly engaging in rare, unadorned intercourse - and never any foreplay.

This was something new and exciting that I had been experiencing with Jimmy, though it made me an anxious-wreck. I never quite knew what to expect from him during our encounters.

He never failed to keep me on my toes - and leave me wanting more and more.

It was clear how skilled Jimmy was in this particular department of life, and I, on the other hand, had always thought that any sexual endeavor - lovemaking - was for couples experiencing true love, whom were perhaps going to be committed a long time, especially if anything unexpected may occur.

But here I was, fighting against all of my inhibitions, ready and willing for anything Jimmy desired to impose on me.

Jimmy shrugs his jacket off quickly, tossing it down on the small sofa that sat against the wall.

I was suddenly aware of his touch on my skin, slightly pulling my body up and onto the bed fully.

He kneeled in front of my lain body, leaning down to feather kisses upon my face and neck.

He shifted to remove my top, my arms coming up instinctively to aid him, exposing my plain white bra.

I mentally cursed myself for not applying more thought into my lingerie choices.

Don’t worry Cyn, he has probably seen all kinds of garments, some much sexier than yours.

My thoughts threatened to put a damper on this moment, but nothing could wipe the smile away from my face as I listened to Jimmy’s reassuring words that sent pleasurable shivers down my spine.

“Christ, Cynthia. Seeing you - like this - so beautiful love…” He appeared enamored by my presence.

“Reminds me of how virtuous, how pure you are…” he nonsensically whispers, running his hands along the edges of my bra.

“Sweet girl.” His words flattered me, making me feel wanted and prepossessing. His hand palms my bra-clad breasts as his other dips into my waistline, fingers pulling down the tight slacks with haste.

“Lie back, love.” Jimmy instructed delicately, his accent making my stomach’s butterflies flutter away.

He took my breath away as his long fingers went to my center, rubbing me atop my panties, feeling my arousal.

I gasped and whimpered at the contact and he lightly chuckled into my neck, licking and lightly sucking at the place below my ear.

“Oh, Cyn. Always so ready for me, love.” He pronounces sexily as he palms my soaking panties.

“What shall I do with you… you little fox…” He formidably declares, groaning while rubbing firmer circles into my heat.

My moans became uncontrollable and Jimmy brought his mouth to mine, swallowing every sound I expelled, exchanging them with his own.

My hands came up to fondle his gorgeous hair that fell upon his head, shortly cascading down onto his cheeks and forehead.

His curls tickled my face as he broke our kiss, panting into my ear and rearranging himself again, shifting to place himself between my quivering legs.

“I can’t wait any longer. I’ve got to have you.” He proclaims, moving hurriedly to remove my panties, shifting them down my legs as I lifted up hastily to help him. His hands latched onto my bra, unclasping it skillfully and throwing it on the chair next to the bed.

He pulled away, quickly discarding of his tight, black velvet pants that hugged his mile-long legs superbly.

His raven mop moved down my torso slowly, his silky lips placing kisses down my chest, lapping at my nipples as he moved further.

His tongue dipped my navel, placing wet, hot kisses along my waist, his hands simultaneously mapping everywhere his mouth couldn’t.

Soon, his head dipped between my thighs, exactly where I was aching, wet and warm, waiting for his skilled touch to return.

His hands grasped the curve of my legs, spreading my thighs apart.

He stopped for a moment, gazing down at my heat, looking up at me with dark, low eyes.

His eyelashes casted a daunting shadow upon his ivory cheeks in the softly illuminated hotel room.

“Gorgeous.” He simply declared to me, as he continued his unyielding gape of my center.

He didn’t warn me before lowering his head down between my legs, placing his wet tongue directly onto my swollen center.

I cried out, head falling back onto the pillow with force.

My hands came to grip any readily available fabric around me, soon making their way to Jimmy’s mass of black curls that wildly flowed around his head.

“Oh… Jimmy!” I couldn’t manage the loud moans of his name that escaped my parted lips.

My head began swirling with lust and frenzied arousal as I tossed and turned on the bed, feeling his skilled tongue increase its speed against me.

He soon slowed his pace, lightly lapping at my heat and then pulled away minutely, making me whimper at the loss of contact.

He quickly unbuttoned his long-sleeved dress shirt, discarding of it on the floor.

“Oh Cyn, love, look at me…” he utters and I lift my head off of the feathery pillow slightly.

His eyes were glazed and dark, his face glowing from the yellow tint the lamp provided.

My eyes travelled to his reddened, plump lips and soft chin where he was glistening, shiny with my wetness.

“Watch me.” He tells me, erotically holding my gaze as he lowers his head once again, reaching his tongue back to my clit, slowing licking and sucking as he kept our stare.

“You taste - so - fucking good…” he groans into my folds and he continues his expert swipes of his tongue.

“You are so sweet, Cyn. Christ, I could savor you all night long…” He whispers softly against me, a raspiness straining his voice.

He pulled away again and dragged his hand from where it sat palming my breasts and lightly pinching my nipples, down toward my quaking heat.

I hoped he didn’t plan on teasing me all night. I began to ache for release, and every time he pulled away, I wanted to grip his curls and drag him back.

Jimmy had the ability to haul this newfound wantoness from my being, and I completely felt out of myself as he finally placed his mouth back upon me, along with the sensation of his finger entering me.

He lifted his head up again, minutely, two fingers now inside my wet heat, bringing me closer and closer to release.

I began breathing heavily, moaning, grasping onto Jimmy’s shoulder and the bedsheets.

I finally looked up at him, mouth agape and my eyes threatening to close as his long, skillful fingers worked their magic.

As his thumb joined the sequence, rubbing my sensitive nub, making his fingers a trio of pleasure, I moaned loud, throwing my head back and gasping for air.

“Cyn, baby, you alright? Are you enjoying this… hmm? Watching me satisfy you?” His words added to my pleasure, leaving me tingling with lust.

His accent floated around the bed like a stray feather as he continued to articulate his desires to me, gaining my observance of him once again.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing as I listened to the dominating words that emitted from his shining mouth.

“You are mine now, you understand?” He declares rhetorically.

“I want you to remember this - me - at night. When you are alone baby… when you are missing me…” he growls as he continues his movements on my clit.

His words were hair-raising, the certitude in his tone so distinctive - he wanted to make it crystal clear that I now belonged to him.

I had never heard a man utter such prurient, dirty words. Jimmy’s eroticism seemed natural to him, very carnal. I suppose it fit with his mysterious, dreamy persona.

His possession of those hooded emerald eyes, black shock of hair, and his pour of porcelain skin to finish off his elaborate darkness.

He was a walking conviction, beautiful ivory skin and soft, green eyes, truly angelic in appearance.

But what went on behind those orbs, chattels of dark and dirty consumptions and wants. These things that tormented him and kept him torn between being a decent person and exploiting his deviance to get what he desired.

Now that I was getting to know him, have the pleasure to view both sides of his coin, I was beginning to see through him and the facade that he explicates onto others - quite successfully.

I had read what other magazines had wrote about him - referring to him as the “Dark Lord.”

This was, perhaps, something Jimmy sort of enjoyed - being known as the mystical, inky lead guitarist of one of the most revered bands out.

But, I knew better.

I wanted nothing more to but to continue my traverse of him for much, much longer.

The fact of him leaving me, being thousands of miles across the ocean - by this time tomorrow - pained me.

And I was going to stop at nothing to enjoy every last exhilarating moment with him before it all vanished.

I focused on his touch, and soon, my breathing became erratic, with Jimmy immediately picking up on it and indulging me once more with his mouth.

“Oh God! Oh - Jim - Jimmy!… Please don’t stop!” I wailed as his actions made me shudder.

His fingers quickened with their assault and he nodded against me with understanding, encouraging me to let go as his tongue drew fast circles on my clit.

I gripped a handful of his curls, holding him to me as I cried out and writhed against him.

My hips bucked with my release, shuddering against Jimmy’s mouth with each burst of my orgasm that tore through me like a tidal wave.

As I finally caught my breath, I could feel the sensation of Jimmy’s tongue, still, relentlessly lapping at me, relishing my release, and I weakly lifted my hips, one last wave rolling through my body.

“Jimmy, oh, I… that was…” I weakly muster and he pulls away, kneeling up on his knees, pulling my arms up with him.

Our bare chests met and it was evident that we both were overheated and awfully lascivious.

My hands travelled to his shoulders to steady myself, my erect nipples brushing against the light hair that littered his chest.

I looked down, viewing his straining member that threatened to burst from his underwear.

My hands moved faster than my sane thoughts that were threatening to resurface since the fog of my orgasm was slowly giving way.

I pulled his briefs down fastly, the waistband catching on the swell of his balls and I decided that was more than enough.

Both of my small hands wrapped around his lengthy member, and he sucked in a sudden breath, throwing his head back with a groan.

I took this opportunity to kiss and nip at his bared throat, and he grabbed onto my shoulders to steady himself as I worked my hands up and down his length, smearing the mass of precome around that had surfaced from our prolonged, intimate encounter on the bed.

“Fuck - oh, Christ - Cyn…” his words became erratic and he was unruly as his hips bucked his member within my hands.

I enjoyed seeing him like this, losing control, faltering his dominance, even for just a moment.

It was incredibly sexy to see him go wild as he moved and writhed with unmanageable sensations coursing through him.

It didn’t take long for him to come, as he had been keen on holding back, since I began my teasing upon him an hour or so ago in John and Mo’s room.

He threw his head back, dark curls cascading down the nape of his neck as a deep, sensual groan erupted from him.

He came and came, spurts of his warm release covering the both of us.

His breathing soon returned to normal capacity and as I peered at his release upon me, a sudden urge ripped through me like wildfire.

I pulled my hands away and up, running them along both of our bodies, spooning some of his come onto my fingers.

“What are you doing, you dirty girl?” He inquires, intently watching and anticipating my next moves.

“Tasting… like you did…” I shortly explained, shyly reaching down between our two bodies.

His eyes travelled my bare body, and my hand, as I raised my covered fingers to my mouth, his come coating my tongue and I seductively licked my fingers clean as I kept his gaze.

His mouth fell agape, seemingly stunned as he sat back, watching me. I continued my exploration and tasting of him before he pulled me into his arms.

He kissed me, our mouths opening to each other immediately. The kiss was deep and dirty, not of uniform, and I felt, suddenly, so deeply connected to him.

We pulled away minutely, chests heaving as we looked into each other’s eyes and caught our breath.

“Mmm… We taste good together, don’t we, Cyn?” Jimmy boasts as he sexily grins at me. My cheeks dared to blush at his statement.

“God, the things you do to me… the way you make me feel…” he utters as he kisses my face, breathing me in.

He moved off the bed, pulling his underwear back up his thighs as he made his way to the bathroom silently.

He arrived back to the luxurious platform bed, with a towel to soak up our remaining release.

He laid us down, gently onto the bed, pulling the opulent comforter up and over our bodies.

He laid on his back as he pulled me to him, my body enveloping his side as one of my legs came up instinctively, placing itself between his own.

My arm rested on his chest, fingers brushing his shoulder and the ends of his dark tendrils as he stroked my hair with one hand, and the soft skin of my forearm with the other.

“So, Cynthia, my lovely girl, how was that, then?” He inquires goofily, making me giggle with relief that he was still in good, content spirits.

“Oh, Jimmy, it was… incredible. I’ve never… never had…” I say, trailing off, truly breathless and tingly, the image of Jimmy between my legs flashing through my mind.

I didn’t want to admit that he was the only one who has ever pleasured me in that way. I couldn’t expose this to him - he’d know just how inexperienced I was.

“I’m glad you found it enjoyable, love.” He says, then, “so did I.” He whispered lowly, his hand traveling lower, kneading one of my nipples softly.

His movements faltered for a moment, he seemed to pondering something and I lifted my head up to look at him properly.

“No one has ever gone down on you, have they, Cyn?” He asked softly, then, proudly, “I’m the only one who’s earned the pleasure?” He probes, a hopeful tone in his voice, anticipating my answer.

“Yes…” I whisper. “Only you.” I answer him, shamefully, but truthfully.

He grinned, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my lips.

“You know, by the way, love, I meant what I said.” He tells me, his voice firm and low.

“What?” I ask him, not aware of what he was referring to. But, his next words jogged my memory, making me shudder.

“You are mine, now, Cynthia.” He informs me, keeping our gaze for a moment before he softly closes his eyes, leaning his head back upon the pillow.

I sighed with content surrender. He was still an enigma to me, there was still so many things that were up in the air, we still had much to get to know.

But, there was one sure thing we were both aware of, now.

I was indefinitely, hopelessly, his.

~~~

I rose to consciousness, darkness still surrounding the hotel room.

The faint brightening of dawn was starting to seep through the sheer curtains as my eyes finally began to peel open.

I peered over at the alarm clock next to the bed, the time half past four. It was still very early, and the slow burn of the sun hadn’t risen yet.

There was a distinct heaviness upon me, weighing me down, and my eyes travelled from the nightstand to my body, where Jimmy had completely splayed himself across me.

His head was resting between my breasts, halfway between my chest and stomach, arms tight around my waist, clutching my bare body to his.

His body was cloaking mine and I began to wonder how he managed to find his way upon me in the bed, like this.

The strong, heady scent of Jimmy’s was everywhere - his sweet smell was plastered all over the sheets, himself, myself.

It took everything inside of me to not close my eyes and fall back into a slumber with his scent lulling me to sleep.

But, the sheets were inhabiting sweltering heat, and my forehead began to perspire as the combination of Jimmy’s body and the warmth of the heavy bedding became too much to bear.

I carefully peeled myself away from Jimmy’s hold on me, shifting my way out of the bed as gently as I could, as to not disturb him.

He needed his rest, and we had only been asleep for a couple of hours.

I padded around the bed, my eyes following the trail of our discarded clothes that were lazily strewn across the hotel room floor.

My mind flashed with images of just a few hours before.

The ravenous limousine ride to the hotel, my seductive teasing to Jimmy while I sat in his lap in John and Mo’s suite, Jimmy going down on me in this very bed, and then his declaration of his possession of me, making certain that I now belonged to him.

Though the room felt like a sauna, my body shivered with leftover arousal and extreme shock at my sultry recollections.

After relieving myself, I found a robe in the hotel’s small closet next to the bathroom, thankful that it wasn’t as thick as I thought it would be.

I shrugged the robe on, as well as my wrinkled pair of white panties, and strolled over to the balcony. I tampered with the sliding door until I finally hauled it open.

I stepped out into the dark glow upon the terrace, leaving the sliding door slightly ajar, hoping to air out the hotel room some.

The fresh air and cool breeze made me feel much better, and I inhaled and exhaled carefully, trying to put my mind at ease.

In a few hours, we would need to be up, get Jimmy packed, get the band and entourage together, and head for the plane.

I was overly saddened by Jimmy’s approaching departure from New York, and I hadn’t a clue what we had established while he was here.

He told me I was his… so… was he mine? Were we… exclusive? Is he my boyfriend, now?

I almost laughed at the idea, it sounded so pretentious and implausible, even in my head.

Was he even capable of going steady? Especially when he was going to be so far away?

Besides, Jimmy had much to worry about once he arrived home.

I remembered his indignant phone call with Richard early yesterday, and his mention of a “Charlotte” whom was - presumably - the ex-girlfriend.

It sounded as if she had gotten in contact with Richard, maybe trying to hunt Jimmy down, while he was preoccupied with little-old-me.

This thought made me feel bitter, and knowing that she had taken their child away with her, far away from London, away from Jimmy, made this feeling ultimately worse.

I wish I could have comforted him, maybe even provided him some advice on how to handle this situation delicately, but he hadn’t displayed any desire for me to know much more other than what I’ve overheard - and the secret, candid information I’d received from Robert over the last few days.

Jimmy didn’t bother to indulge on the subject of Charlotte, or their daughter, and I didn’t want to push.

He seemed to be adamant on keeping that exigent part of his life private and I respected that.

But, it irked me that I felt as if he didn’t trust me on a level to where I could hold such information.

Jimmy simply baffled me.

I felt like I lived a lifetime in the short week Jimmy and I have spent together.

Though I knew now - regardless of whether Jimmy and I ever crossed paths again - I know that I will never be the same.

He changed something in me, changed everything - brought out these peculiar characteristics and actions from me, that I otherwise had never known I possessed, nor was capable of.

And I liked it.

I leaned my head back against the chair, sighing into the abyss of the dark sky, silently wishing upon the singular, stray star in the ether above.

Suddenly I heard a faint cry, yelping in the distance. My eyebrows furrowed at the peculiar sound.

Soon, the voice appeared to be closer, the shouts and weeping became sharper and more distinct - and I realized they were coming from inside our hotel room.

I abruptly got up, rushed into the room, to find Jimmy having another nightmare. He was thrashing about in the blankets and I couldn’t stand the sight.

I needed to talk to him about these night terrors and how often they occurred - how they seemed to only occur when I retreated, when I wasn’t sleeping alongside him.

I hurried to the bed, kneeling on the mattress, lightly shaking Jimmy awake, my hands running to his chest and shoulders.

He awoke with trepidation, sheer terror awning his face until his eyes found mine.

He grasped onto me, his chest and face wet with perspiration as he held me to him, settling back down onto the pillows without another word.

He kept me there, his embrace persistent and unwavering, never letting go.

My body seemed to mold perfectly against his, becoming one in the same.

We drifted off to sleep, the slight gape of the sliding door to the balcony allowed for the sounds of the hustle and bustle on the pavement below to become our white noise.

-

A/N

Hello, all. Did not want to make you all wait too long for part two… so here it is… :D

Please let me know your thoughts, as I have already indulged all of you of how much I enjoy them!

Thank you for reading everyone!💕

Link to Chapter Fourteen: https://www.tumblr.com/classicrocknlove/784730093498023936/spread-your-wings

[wakacreations]

Raphael: I Am Always Waiting

Author's Note:

I saw this neat animation by @smnc45. I do not write Raphael often but I wanted to try my shot at their prompt.

Prompt:

Can someone please write Raphael x reader angst where they’ve been married for like 50 years and now it’s time for reader to pass on and they’re having this bittersweet moment together in reader’s final moments

If you favor AO3

Word Count: 2935

Summary:

The cat and mouse game has come to an end. When the mouse's time draws near who came out victorious?

It is almost that time again when a devil would celebrate the most joyous occasion. When a thumping of a heart becomes a precious coin. Currency to pocket, to twiddle between one's claws and to eye at the brilliance of its metallic polish. The great tragedies within these circular vessels tell tales to other archdevils of the beautiful follies of man. What depraved sacrifices they would make out of their own hubris. I have acquired many a coin through my millennia. There to amass my strength in the hells but I have grown fond of a few in my possession. There is but one that awaits, a soul coin that holds my palm so dear. I find you laying on your death bed.

You were but a mere mortal for some unforeseen circumstances were chosen by fate to be a tadpole inhabitor. It would be easy for I to acquire such a desperate soul. You truly were desperate you know. I watched from afar to see you squirm. You did shop around quite a bit before you accepted your only option left, mine. There were the words of a lullaby from Cormyr that I spoke to you when we first met. In those times, I called you mouse and I the fox but these days you call me a domestic house pet, a cat. You are lucky that I am quite fond of such creatures. Dogs are duller but I thought through your journey you would become one. You do look lovely chasing after my heels. Whether it be for that spawnling or that little swindler of a tiefling girl, you were adamant she wouldn't be in good care. Like an irritating pest, you entered my sactome where you do not belong despite your agreement to meet at Sharess’ Caress. You left quite a bit of chaos in your wake. Your flowing locks looked beautiful against the emerald glow of my pillars. Even now as you have aged so gracefully. I pluck a hair back behind your ear. 

“You had every right to kill me on that day.”

There were tears in your eyes as you resheaved your blade. Was that pity you showed me back then? You brought mercy on me as I was prone at my own door. You jumped through the portal with Hope and Mol’s contract in hand with not even a glance back. I am but the big bad devil in those fairytale stories you listen to when you slumber.

“I could never be anything more,” pulling back my hand.

Those all too familiar taunting eyes that stoked my obsession were before me. There is not anymore of you left in that feeble mind of yours. “You never did give me that crown I desire,” I chuckled dryly. You blinked at me trying to recognize these human features of mine.

“You spent the good first ten years running away from me, mouse.”

Through the hells you searched for the cure for one of Zariel’s warmachines and the “Blade of Avernus” close behind.

“All you needed to do was ask and we could have cut another deal.”

The next ten you were off in the Underdark away from the sunlight. You and that Spawn were off to find a cure. You knew I was still waiting for you as you felt my infernal heat lurking in the shadows. I held the artifact of your sole desire for your little “friend”.

“I could have dragged you into the Hells against your will, you contemptuous creature. You went willingly for that decade only in exchange for his precious sunlight!”

You just smiled at the words I uttered. Even when I had opened my doors for you, my House of Hope. Yet, you chose to find any means of escape for that time you spent with me in the Hells.

“I allowed you to rest in your own company in Faerun. I do take care of my pets.” I closed my eyes.

You wandered through the material plane with no company but my watchful eyes. The ten years you spent there, you looked so peaceful but what joy it was to tear you away from it all.

“You asked me to form one last contract with you. When your time ran out on your home plane.”

Your words echoed in my mind like an accursed song.

“I will show you why devils obsess with mortals. Why you yearn so desperately to chase me through the planes?” You looked up at the sky as you laid in a field of wildflowers. You never looked so at ease for as long as I watched you. “That's quite a presumption on your part, little mouse. I know when something or someone is of value,” blocking your view of the clear skies above. “Make this contract with me and in exchange my time will end as fate decides.” You reached your palm out to me. There is still that tenaciousness in your eyes. “What do I gain out of this exchange? It seems you think contracts are only for your benefit? Make me an offer I can't refuse.” I leaned down to get a better look at you. You waved your arm waiting for me to shake it. You never grew out of your childish ways have you? “Aren't you curious, Raphael? What is life's value to a mortal? You know the answer to. What is life's value to an immortal? Maybe I would change your mind? You would have my soul coin for all eternity, no?” You smiled that mischievous grin as such from the day you inked your name on our first contract. Your small hand wrapped in my own heated infernal clawed grasp.

I have watched your struggles and your despair on the long nights on your journey. The begging to your companions to stay right of justice when uncertainty lies in wait for them. The screams of agony of whom you rescued meeting their untimely destined fate. The endless slaying of the army of the Absolute who set to cause chaos to your home, Faerun. The chosen three all prone to your blade but when it came time to pay your dues for a sacrifice to be made I answered your call. You couldn't stand by and become a mindflayer. Yet, you put that horrible image of tentacles caressing your body in the forefront of my mind out of fear of what is to befall you. There was luck I still held use for you when I put the Orphic Hammer in your palms. I reopened my eyes.

"You owe me more than you are worth." I restoked the fire when a little sneezes escaped you.

We have two different minds when it comes to being a savior. Your body is still riddled with scars as you take in your shallow breaths. I could have kept you the way you were before. I turned my head away from the sight of you now. Korrilla kept updates on your whereabouts after the fall of the Netherbrain. You still sacrificed yourself for those companions who've left nothing for you in return. There is a madness to you, mouse but perhaps is there abyssal that runs through your family's line?

“A debt is still owed by you, little mouse.” I attempted to coax a reaction out of you.

How many times must I catch you out of the clutches of Kelemvor? Day after day I watched you writhed in pain for unnecessary sacrifices you've made. Do you choose to run after death so eagerly? Withers, your Jergal will not be bringing you back! In the Hells, I helped vanquish Zariel’s forces when you scurried into her forges. I presented you with the means to free your darling, Astarion. I turned a blind eye when you still chose to meet with the other companions in your “solitude” in Faerun. What mouse could you show me what I haven't already known!? What am I an immortal being could I experience that I haven't in my entire existence!? You have proven to always surprise me.

“This last contract with you will be the death of me. I spent decades chasing you, mouse but I could enjoy this last one. We would make for such a great tragedy that would be played throughout the Nine Hells.”

For the last time you grabbed my hand into your own. You kept your promise and your word.

On the first night, you whispered such sweet words that could rival the burning alluring taste of succubi/incubi spittle. Was it because you have accepted your fate? When sleep cradled your head you sang a lullaby of your restless heart. Let your tears fall. There will be no other who will witness them. One night I overheard a confession in the privacy of the company of you and that Astarion many moons ago. “I like him too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face.” Was such a thing true, little mouse? I watched as you stirred in your sleep. I left you that morning in your final home called Hope. 

Time is but a blink to the eyes of the Hells. I took you to see all I could offer you and what otherworldly indulgences mortals have spent with the precious coin they held in their chest. We watched a theater production of the Netherbrain and the valiant heroes who sought its demise. I had to jostle you from your insistent snoring. There you gave me your signature glare. I would admit the production does not do it justice. We fought and bickered like time never moved. 

You are quite frail these days. You got winded as we passed by the taverns you used to haunt. I asked you if you would make an addendum to our contract but you politely declined. Time will catch up to you as I eyed them. My, what former shadow you are now mouse?

You have been coughing as of late. You waved it off saying you were fine. The air in Avernus is not suited for those of sensitive lungs. I summoned forth a cleric to see to your care. You argued with me for the first time in a long while. I almost assumed the great savior of Baldur’s Gate was reduced to such a sorry state. I must have been mistaken.

The cleric came to my office to give their report. Our dwellings will need to be mended for you to exist in my home. They suggested a visit to Faerun will improve your recovery. I asked you at lunch, where do you plan to visit this evening? You would come back to the same conclusion… Baldur’s Gate. I don't blame you. The scars of that parasite did ingrain into you where you are supposed to be.. but you are free to go anywhere, now my dear. You still insisted that is where you wish to spend your time. By all means as we reappeared in the city square.

Your mind has been wandering for quite some time. You asked what had happened to your companions. Were they alright? Those would be appropriate questions if not for having conversed with them a moment prior before. If I knew you would start babbling like one of my debtors, I would have put having a sound mind as part of a clause. It was time for dinner but you still refused. You said I poisoned you whenever you ate. I made it clear time and time again it was to keep you in sound mind. You screamed at me. You wouldn’t become a mindflayer! I held you close and stroked your hair as you weathered another one of your fits again. I felt your tears soak through my doublet when I carried you to bed. Is this how you truly wish to spend the rest of our days, mouse?

How could you smile so sweetly on our final day together?

“You know, I have truly come to despise you.” Your hand squeezes my own.

“You do not recall half the words I utter!” I felt the hellfire coating my palm. You didn’t pull your hand away from my own when the flames threatened to engulf you. You wailed in agony but still you did not let go.

“What is the value of a life to an immortal?” Your words that day came back to my mind.

“Where has time gone?” For the first time my voice had wavered, the hellfire dissipated. You pulled my hand over your heart.

“You know my precious cat, devils love a good chase. If I were to give in to you long before, would you have obsessed with me just the same?” There is that giggle that rings like church bells.

“You never gave me much choice in the matter, little mouse.” I growled at them. Something rattled in my chest. What is this foreboding feeling? Tears streamed down your face. I couldn’t help but press my forehead against yours. How can such an insignificant being be so cruel.

“Open your eyes, mouse! Let me see you!” Your eyelids fluttered open. What was this feeling clawing at me?

”I gave you the freedom to choose the only option you had left,” you sniffled. Who were you to decide on when we should part? I couldn't take this anymore.

“Ask for anything, mouse and I will bring you life.” I felt their heartbeat slow beneath my palm.

“You wouldn't want that Raphael. You only desire the truth.” You shook your head.

“What do you know of me! You know nothing.” I should stop this accursed thing’s beating. You winced at my words.

“Raphael? Did you enjoy our time together?” You asked tentatively. You won't slip away, mouse.

“Of course, why wouldn't I have?” No, I had not enjoyed any of this charade but yet I told you otherwise.

“Good, I am glad. I am sorry for the amount of heartache I will leave you with. There is a reason why mortals are an indulgence to your kind.” Your voice cracked. The water works started anew.

Don't you dare, mouse..

“We make seconds seem like lifetimes. We make life meaningful in the mundane. We leave our mark that would be remembered for a millennia if we're lucky,” you smiled.

Don't you dare keep speaking.

“You know mortals can be like devils?” Your breathing slowed to a crawl.

“Demand anything, mouse and you will have it.” You didn't listen to a word I said. 

“Mortals can be obsessive too, you know? I think there is something wrong with me that I spent the last four decades running from them. I think their name is Raphael.” I smothered you in my arms.

“Stop with your babbling!” You still continued on.

“He is there watching me wherever I go. You know I never had anyone that would go to such lengths to get my attention.” That wasn't true mouse, all of your companions fought desperately for your attention. I squeezed you closer to my chest.

“Maybe I am insane for trying to maintain the obsession of a devil but.. I have known humans who are more devilish than the one at my heels.” I couldn't help but chuckle.

“You are not insane but just a foolish mortal. You all are in the end.” I whisper in your ear. Why do you only speak your truths now? You pushed me to loosen our tight embrace. I could feel you slipping away. Your time is near.

“I cannot let you do this mouse. I am in control of your soul.” What a beautiful coin it would make for my collection. You are nothing but my possession! That is what you solely are.

“But you know I wouldn't be me left. Your obsession with me will end on this day.” You held my head in your worn palms.

“I will tell you the truth, you longed to hear.” Blood rushed to my eardrums. Was this truly what I yearned for? Was this the way I wished to earn your coin? Your fingers ran through my hair. You cleared your throat. Your eyes never wavered from mine.

“I like him too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face,” you choked out. Stop! Just stop, mouse! With ferocity our lips danced for one last time. Why must death's kiss taste so bittersweet? Our tears intertwined. My hand raised to cradle your head.

“I will not let you get the best of me,” as I pecked away your tears. I felt your tiredness in my arms. Your head nestled into the crook of my neck.

“We can make more time,” I pleaded. How far have I fallen? What was this emptiness? Why did it have to take your end for you to confess, Tav? I stroke your hair while you let out the last of your cries till silence fell over you.

“This won't be the end.” Your body settles against my own.

“Say anything! Something you pipsqueak!” My voice no longer sounded like my own. What have you done to me? I placed one long hard kiss at your temple. Something shattered from deep within.

“How could you not desire to live?” I choked on my words. I felt a sheer coldness that ached from within you. Mortals won't survive if they are cool to the touch. You no longer fought when I pressed you to my chest till you could feel the beating of this infernal heart of mine. You needed to feel warm again. The fires have long since extinguished. Loud inhuman wails echo in these empty grand halls.

“You are mine! Now and forever. For all eternity, my precious little mouse.”

[harperbrynne]

When you know, you know

Elucien

—————————————————————————

“It’s beautiful.”

Lucien whirled around, barely catching the back of his falling desk chair with his hand as he swiftly stood at the warm sound of her voice.

Elain’s face reddened in the shadow of his bedroom doorway as she realized her error. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I couldn’t sleep, and I saw a light on in here from the hallway, and…” she trailed off, her blush blooming over her neck in a path that led beneath her pale green silk dressing robe.

Lucien’s golden metal eye clicked, desiring to narrow in on that path, but he quickly cleared his throat and blinked the thought away before it could develop further.

Remembering his manner’s, he bowed at the waist, introducing himself, “I am Lucien, lady.” He rose and faced the curly-haired female fully. “No apology necessary. It was my fault for being distracted and so easily startled.”

Of course, she knew who he was. Well, she knew what he was to her. Her mate. But she did not know him. And because of that, Lucien believed introducing himself was polite and appropriate.

Elain gave a small curtsy in reply, her eyes lowering for all but a single breath, a second that left Lucien holding his own breath in anticipation of meeting her brown eyes once again, the same color as the cool earth and crisp leaves of autumn.

“Elain Archeron, Lord Lucien.”

I know, almost escaped his lips. But he did not know. He did not know her. So instead, with a raised brow above his russet eye, he inquired, “Lord?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My sister, Feyre, she calls you Lord of Foxes. I thought—well,” Elain let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Now that I think about it, that’s clearly a nickname.”

Elain could call him whatever she wished if it stopped her from making unnecessary apologies.

She ran her palms down her sides as if attempting to brush away what she deemed to be a mistake. Lucien found himself considering if it was a habit from chasing away the soil from her hands after planting something beautiful. Just as his name in her voice would grow deep-rooted inside him.

Lucien chuckled with her, leaning against the edge of his desk, his hands by his sides, gently resting on the flat, wooden surface. “Feyre does love her nicknames. It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve heard her call me something much worse.” He nearly cursed himself at what would surely remind her of why he deserved to be called something so deplorable. The role he played in Elain becoming something she didn’t choose.

Lucien would jump head first into the Cauldron if she willed it. If it meant she might forgive him someday.

He opened his mouth to apologize, seeing the contemplative look on her face as she peered around his room, but then she startled him for the second time that night.

“Lord of Sunburst, Lord of Red Oak…” her eyes continued trailing around where he stood in shock, “Lord of Sugar Maple, Lord of Sourwood…”

Shocked, because she was naming the trees that decorated his room. Wood and twigs twining and engraving his bed posts, his desk chair, his armoire, set against shades of gold, red, and brown. Reminding him of what in someways would always feel like home to him.

It took him a few weeks to make his room in the Night Court truly feel like his. Locating, chopping, cleaning, and carrying tree trunks so heavy he thought the sweat gleaming against his skin would become a permanent fixture. Good. The weight kept his mind off of things that weighed heavier.

Did Elain have traces of her home in the Mortal Lands in her own room?

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind an arched ear. The same words she had whispered a few hundred heartbeats ago.

“I know,” he breathed as he watched her. The words flowing from him like a sparkling river meeting a mossy bank.

Elain’s warm, brown eyes met one russet and one golden. He looked at her and thought he might really know.

Know she was indeed worth fighting for.

“Lord of Sourwood is probably closer to what Feyre calls me when I have done something to cross her.”

Elain let out a laugh. The sound like bright beams of sunlight caressing his skin. His very bones. A lovely kind of searing. He wanted to hear that sound everyday for all of eternity.

“I read a field guide explaining the identification process of various tree species and plants. I could smell hints of the cinnamon and cloves still contained within the wood from down the hall. And the fluttering of wings from the bees that once fed on the sweet nectar from its flowers. I’m not sure the sound was their wings anymore, though.”

“Oh?” A dark, night-filled breeze from his open window caused the pages of the book he had been reading to softly caress each other.

Elain wrapped her dressing robe tighter around herself to mask her shudder. Those brown eyes flickered for a moment on his chest, directly where his heart thundered, then to the star-flecked sky outside his window.

She said quietly, almost to herself, “No, it was not the sound of wings.” She let out a soft sigh. “It’s not ever supposed to be is it?”

Lucien ached to reach for her, to erase the pain on her face, but he clutched the edge of his desk tightly instead.

No.

He once held himself back from fighting for someone he cared about. Never again. He would fight for Elain.

Lucien carefully removed his white-knuckled grip and slowly approached her small form. She watched him approach and did not look afraid.

Lucien asked steadily, or maybe that was pleading that lined his voice, “What can I do to help, lady?”

“Make the sun appear.”

“I don’t—I apologize, but I don’t have that kind of power.” If he could reach a hand through space and time and give her the sun in all its fiery beauty, he would do it.

Standing a few feet from her pale, grief-stricken expression, it burned him not to.

Elain’s attention focused somewhere deep inside her. “You can. I have seen it. I have seen golden, white light arching through the void to raise the sun before it was almost lost forever. I have seen it.”

The hair on Lucien’s arms rose.

He had heard of her ability. The Cauldron made her a seer, the power to glimpse into the future. Lucien also heard the talks about her well-being, her fading lucidity whenever her power manifested.

They were all wrong.

About the lucidity.

Standing before her now, the tension lining her shoulders, waiting to be judged, Lucien did not see a lack of clarity. He did not merely see a seer. He saw strength. He saw Elain Archeron.

The world yawned awake as the thought rippled something invisible between them.

As if she felt the same pressure, gauging it to be otherworldly, she dropped her hands by her sides and whispered, “Is this a dream?”

“May I?” He cautiously held out his hand, requesting to meet her own. She nodded and placed her soft, lightly calloused and freckled hand—from time spent gardening out in the sun—into his awaiting one. He pressed it against his shirt covered chest, allowing her to feel the thrumming of his heart.

“I am awake. And with you.” Lucien couldn’t give her the sun, at least not right now, but he could give her the answer to the sound she heard. Lucien had noted where her eyes had been drawn earlier, where they lay now as her head barely reached his chest. “You are awake. And you are with me.”

They both stood still. Time stood still. His thumb brushed over a knuckle.

Elain Archeron’s clear, strong gaze looked up and met his at that touch. “But we shouldn’t be awake, should we? It is late, Lord of Sourwood.” She smiled, admonishing them both for the late hour, her eyes twinkling like the rising dawn creating shafts of pink through the room. “It will be golden, soon.”

She stepped back into the hallway and made the trek back to her room before he could tell her the name he had chosen for her.

Lady of the Golden Grove.

The secret, small grove with trees that glowed golden in the light of the Autumn Court—a place a much younger Lucien liked to escape to. The brush of autumn sunlight and chorus of nature singing to him that everything would be right, he just needed to wait.

For some reason, he could hear that singing now. A faint, flickering sound like embers circling overhead.

Lucien sat and listened to it.

The sound grew calmer, blissful when the pale light of dawn turned golden.

—————————————————————————

Thank you for reading!

[intertwined-fates]

DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND! FOX/ANNOUNCER X FEMALE-PRESENTING MC

CONTENT WARNING: Menophilia (period bloodplay), CNC, lactation **18+ ONLY NO MINORS**

@decafdoodlez c/mmissioned this for her OC Rina and kindly is letting me share it with you all! Fox/Announcer belongs to Gatobob. The writing belongs to me. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK.

***

“I taught you better than this,” Stammered Fox, his golden optics a mix between fury and disappointment. His ears and tail twitched as he paced around you disapprovingly. It was rare to see him so upset, especially toward his star subject. Fox failed to consider that he had no true reason to be upset.

“I’m… confused, sir,” You responded, your voice clear in tone yet puzzled. It was not out of disobedience, but rather true confusion. You wore a strikingly bright pastel pink lingerie set, long white netted stockings, and a lack of panties. The top piece barely covered your breasts, exposing your areola. Your chest would be fully exposed if it weren’t for the heart piece covering your nipples. Soft nubs perked through the tiny bit of lace material, practically welcoming whomever in view to imagine what it would be like to have a taste.

It was for this very reason that infuriated Fox. You looked too beautiful. Too goddamn alluring. And something felt off. There was a looming scent in the air driving him mad. It smelt… metallic. One could argue it might be his mask, however, it had a particular aroma that he couldn’t quite place his finger upon. His tail fluffed and frizzed up as he struggled to make sense of the feelings bubbling up in his chest. Fox was so entangled in his own thoughts and possessive nature that he didn’t realize you had spoken to him. 

“Sir… You look troubled. Have I done something wrong?” You questioned with a bit of hesitation held within your words when you spoke up again. You would never ask a question if you weren’t genuinely worried for your master. He was acting strange and it was beginning to spark a bit of anxiety. You brought your hands together, sliding your palms across one another for comfort. You hoped he would not think of you poorly for asking a question. You had seen him truly infuriated before and it never ended well. Fox finally stopped pacing. He first closed his eyes and sighed heavily while running his hands through his graying hair.  Once his eyes opened again, he noticed a trail of blood dripping down your thighs. Now Fox was the confused one… and he stared at the blood. He hadn’t touched you yet today, as it was extremely early in the morning and they were supposed to be streaming by now. The realization finally clicked in alongside primal instinct. His claws or tools were not responsible for the blood. You must have started your period. He couldn’t stop staring as the blood taunted him.

“Y/N.” His voice was sharp and tainted by what only one could identify as carnal desire. His nose and ears wiggled. It took every bit of self-control to approach you calmly. This control was short-lived. He grabbed your thighs, forcing them apart. There was no time for consent; not that he would have considered anyway. Your body belonged to him. Your blood began to flow more, freed from the trap that was your plump thighs. You felt a squeak leave your throat, a soft blush blossoming across your cheeks at the sudden grab. The failure to notice you were bleeding caught you off guard, amplifying your reaction. How embarrassing… “You’re too tempting. Bleeding like this… what were you thinking?” He snarled between words, moving to his knees while gripping your thighs. His claws raked down the soft, sensitive skin as he settled beneath you. One hand remained on your thigh while the other raised a finger. He had recently filed his nails to a point. You caught a glimpse of his nails and recognized this demeanor. You knew what would come next and did not dare to deny him. Your body existed for him and he alone.

Fox admired your bleeding pussy before testing the claw against your clit. It poked out, the usual response when Fox would touch you. He knew your body better than you knew it yourself. He had much more experience exploring your body and limits than you ever had. You were a virgin when you had met and he loved knowing he was the only person who had ever laid hands on you. The only person who had been inside you. A cackle left him as the pad of his finger and the tip of his claw moved from your clit to trace along your outer lips. They were somewhat swollen from bloating and the rush of pleasure. 

You let out another soft sound as your Master touched you. You moved a hand to cover your mouth. You then bit on your lower lip, flustered by how fascinated he appeared by your cunt. He had fucked and played with you various times… and shockingly never did on your time of the month. It was a new side of him you had never seen before. His tongue lapped up the blood and explored the depths of your cove. You now gushed both blood and your own slick wet as he pleasured you. You couldn’t help feeling aroused even more seeing Fox on his knees. It was a rare sight to see. Sure, Fox had pampered you before… but having him beneath you? It was an honor and you knew you needed to be thankful.

“I-I might cum, sir.” You mouthed, escaping your lips barely above a whisper. It was soon into the intimacy… but you couldn’t help yourself. He had never eaten your pussy before! He was practically devouring you. You moved your hands to stroke in between and behind his ears. He moaned as he enjoyed your pets and continued to explore your cunt. He massaged every inch and suckled on your delicate nub until his face was covered in your blood. His nails dug deep into your outer thighs. 

Hearing you might cum, he growled and pulled back to look at you. You would notice the fresh blood coating his lips and smeared across his cheeks in random splotches. The primal craze in his eyes glinted your way. “Cum on my face, Y/N! I won’t be satisfied until you do.” It sounded more like a threat rather than a demand. 

You felt your core swell and your body becoming overwhelmed with warmth and pleasure. Your clit twitched and your body somewhat twisted as you came all over Fox’s face. Much to his surprise, you had squirted. The string of fluid collided with his tongue as he had ensured his face was near your cunt. He lapped at the leftover mess, indulging and even more heated than he was before the start. He wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He needed more. He bit on your outer pussy lips and grazed his fangs across your clit, causing you to emit a scream. 

He finally pulled back from your cunt to observe your reaction. You were crying from how rough he had been with his tongue and fangs. You couldn’t help squeezing your thighs together in a weak attempt to mask the pain. The pressure somewhat helped disguise the ache. He laughed at you, now moving to push you onto their bed. Your body sunk against the plush mattress and helped you relax somewhat comforted by the silk sheets. That moment didn’t last long as he removed his clothing followed by pinning you down. He pressed the tip of his throbbing cock into your bloodied cunt before roughly thrusting down to his base. His knot ached as it dragged within your tight walls. The blood and your previous orgasm acted as lube as he pounded into your pussy. His hands traveled across your body, worshipping every curve and soft part of you. He fell even more deeply in love with you during this moment. You whimpered and moaned as your pussy swallowed his cock. You raised your legs as you were trained to and moved them around his hips to amplify both of your pleasure. He followed your cue by moving into a mating press, breeding deep inside you. He felt his knot latch. 

“You’re about to take a very deep creampie, sweetie.” 

Your *eye color* hues snapped open as he whispered into your ear. A shiver traveled down your spine. You looped your arms around his shoulders and humped against him. He snarled before biting down on your neck. A familiar pop sounded and Fox released inside of his favorite pet. You felt yourself being filled, surely dripping outside your cunt and around your master’s cock. He didn’t stop slamming into you even after he came. He peppered your body with more bite marks and paid special attention to your breasts. His thrusting slowed to a leisurely pace as he began to suck on your nipples. His hands massaged your hips as he suckled. 

Another surprise.

A warm milky fluid seeped from your nipple as his tongue trailed along the nub. Were you lactating? He brought his head back for another moment to take a look. You were leaking milk from both breasts. This shouldn’t be possible as you’d never been pregnant before… but he had heard it could happen in rare occurrences. He chuckled and smirked up at you. He pinched your nipple and more milk dribbled out. You winched and squeaked as your master played with your new faucets. He latched his lips back onto your right nipple while his hand massaged your left. He continued to thrust inside of your pussy in a more slow, loving rhythm. The mix of feeling his fingers, tongue, and cock forced you to moan whorishly and orgasm again. 

“Y/N… You never cease to amaze me.” Fox mouthed against your breast and brought his thrusts to a stop. He slowly brought them out of the mating press and into a more comfortable cuddling position. His cock left your cunt with another pop and you emitted another whimper. Fox moved a hand to your cheek, caressing your bright, rosy pink cheeks. He admired you, the smirk being replaced with a soft expression. He sighed contently before sighing. His tail thumped happily against the mattress before settling around your waist like a blanket. You smiled back at him, the sensations of their heated moment leaving you feeling both cradled and mutilated. Their love is truly the death of peace of mind.

[sordidmusings]

Sweetly Scented Secrets - Intro (Reader x CYOE Various)

Summary: On a stop to a new island, you managed to find yourself at a witch's stall. Despite yourself, you actually bought some things. The purchase that vexes you is a perfume that could supposedly urge confessions out of those it targets.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: this is some good ol’ Nonsense that came from this ridiculous video of a man spraying himself with perfume then seemingly being unable to keep divulging So Much so suddenly 💀 I have been told that he frequently dissociates into a state of info dumping. I will choose to believe the perfume compelled him. And thus it will compel the blorbos. Some will be sfw and some nsfw (and tagged accordingly of course). All will likely be goofy. I will play with which is which and who happens based on my fancy unless requested! This gets out first cuz it was p much done Forever Ago so all I had to do was fill it out and edit it and make a mood board then set it to come out on a Monday cuz Fuck Em

Warnings: gn! reader (I tend to write from afab perspective since that’s what I am so if something slips please let me know 🤍 this goes for all my gn!), a wild OC appears! Take her in all her cringy glory 👌🏻, I just always wanna write witches man, can’t decide if magic (largely in the modern western esoterica sense) being legitimate counts as canon divergence, if so then this is canon adjacent 🤷🏼‍♀️

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

A spiritual crisis was not how you wanted to start your morning.

You were stuck between the deep-rooted desire to believe in magic and every skeptic you’ve ever known talking down their nose at you. It felt like a very unbalanced war between the two. The weight of scorn had tamped down your wish for magic to be fact for years, but a wanting pit in your chest still clung to “what if”. That pit had begun to grow roots and stems as the Grand Line showed you places and life beyond the scope of your imagination. What explanation was there for Devil Fruits besides magic? Though, magic, it seems, was only for Gods to deal out. Earthly life must keep trying to use science to catch up or fight for what scraps the Gods toss their way.

You continued to stare dubiously at the carved stone bottle in your hand. Delicate, swooping letters decorated its soft pink label, spelling out “Affection’s Confession” in deep violet. Gold accents brought out their curves and matched the shimmering golden wax that sealed the bottle’s cork and dripped down to crawl on the translucent fluorite vessel. It sat heavy in your hand, each second passing with it in your palm adding another gram to it then another and another. You sighed and placed it back on your dresser to stare some more. The light dancing through the sloshing clear liquid, bouncing and glimmering through lines of blue and green and purple, only made it more enticing to you.

Your hesitation was exacerbated by the perfume’s seller. Well, maybe potion was a better word? Saying “potion” made you feel silly though, even if it was given to you by a witch. And that brings you back to the whole problem.

The last island you’d visited was known for its strange customs and belief in the arcane. Most weren’t living by the practice; just knew of its validity as yet another mundane fact of life. Finding the actual practitioners was much harder, or it was supposed to be.

You would’ve had to have been blind or willfully, stubbornly ignorant to see that woman and think anything other than “witch”. Feathers and beads were tied in her dark hair, swaying in time with her vertebrae earrings on each turn of her head to watch passersby. You kept your eyes to them as you approached her, feeling unsettled and intrigued by the strange decorations. Shortly after you began heading towards her, her face snapped to you and she zeroed in, making you feel like a rabbit stalled before a fox. When she stood from her seat and sashayed over to greet you in front of her stall, you realized she was barefoot, sporting wood and leather anklets instead of shoes. The music they beat with each of her steps and the open smile that warmed her face eased you just a bit.

“Hello, sweet thing,” she greeted, the cheery tone of her voice ringing out the pet name. “I can help you find just what you need. The coven and I have built a stock to aid any situation, including yours.”

As she leaned forward in a semblance of a bow, you noticed her large necklace of braided bramble (Thorns still on? you noticed incredulously) hung low, holding dried roses in front of her cleavage. The languid way it followed her matched the nature of the scant drapings of deep red and dirty beige fabric, which hung on her in the vague shape of a summer dress. She held out her suntanned arms, palms up to ask for your hands. Having her this close nearly made you step back; something unnatural lived in the air around her and her tawny eyes saw right through doors and walls and words and skin. Feeling hesitant, you continued to meet her gaze and only offered a mumbled greeting.

“Come now, let me have your hands,” she encouraged gently. “They’ll tell me what you need.”

“How are they supposed to do that?” you asked curtly. “And I usually like knowing someone’s name before hand-holding.”

“Call me Pythia,” she chimed immediately, still holding her bent posture and asking hands. “I don’t have the time to explain the hands. I promise I won’t keep them though.” She giggled at her own… joke? You were hoping that was a joke. You eyed the peeks of death behind her (articulated bugs here, bones there, jarred creatures, hides, blood-) that made all the pretty wares around them seem tainted.

Watching her laugh was the first time you noticed the knack her loving smile had for curling into something more impish, cluing you in that she knew something you didn’t. Despite this making her feel even more dangerous to interact with, you put your hands in hers.

“Thank you, lovely,” Pythia said, voice heavy with a gratefulness that didn’t seem to fit the moment to you. While she cradled your hands, you took in the many carved rings and bangles of stone, leather, metal, and bone cautiously.

That caution had rooted itself to you and was very stubbornly sticking to your feelings about her wares. Besides the perfume, you had purchased an herbal pouch to hang over your bed, meant to aid with ease and depth of sleep. The first night, you noticed your mind was much calmer than its usual anxious whirring before bed. The second night, you listened to the first of her instructions and took ten deep breaths through your nose against the sigil-embroidered pouch. Your sleep came mere minutes after taking in the floral and earthy scent. It had you decide to try out the full instructions, adding on asking the herbs for good rest, placing a gentle kiss to the sigil, and sealing it with a long press of your forehead to the marking. You slept like the dead.

The success had you brainstorming on how to make it back to her in a few months, as she had warned you that the effects will fade with use. It has only been three weeks since your first full ritual with the pouch and you can already feel it start to wane just a bit. You mourned this morning when the sun through your window had actually managed to rouse you from sleep. When you were grumpily blinking at the bright light, you had noticed the perfume bottle still sitting untouched next to the beaming light.

If the pouch worked then shouldn’t this?

That hope was what led you to stare over the bottle as you were now, and try to convince yourself that it wouldn’t be so ridiculous to try out. After all, you had felt quite stupid speaking to your herb pouch and that feeling paled in comparison to the benefits it brought you. You took another minute to mull it over then steeled yourself with a deep breath to go through opening up the bottle.

You found and flipped open your pocket knife before settling on your bed with the bottle. As Pythia had instructed, you placed a kiss on each flat side of the blade before cutting around the rim of the bottle, right where the cork met glass. You thanked the blade and flipped it back closed. You twisted the cork out, took a deep breath filled with curiosity, and smelt… nothing?

Pulling the opening of the bottle to press on your upper lip, you took another long sniff. Yep. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You frowned at the bottle, wondering if the witch had actually managed to sell you snake oil. You sent your narrowed gaze to the herb pouch above your bed then back to the bottle in your grip, mulling over your trust in the liquid. Eventually, a mix of previous success and your burning curiosity got you to continue trying the perfume out. You were also pretty sure you saw actual snake oil in her shop, so that handed the witch a point for gumption and a deduction from trickery.

Her instructions were quite detailed for the perfume to be at its most potent. Things about the meanings associated with fingers and the places on the body and the importance of the order and all of it seemed to jumble together. When you asked if she had anything to write it down, she shrugged and told you what you remembered of the instructions was the act meant for you to take. Maddeningly unhelpful. So you sat on your bed and ran them through your memory until you were sure you recalled everything as clearly as possible. After a good while meditating on it, you were surprised by the detail that your mind let you recall of it. You were ready.

Blocking the small opening with your right ring finger, you overturned the bottle and flipped it back, leaving a drop of the substance on your fingertip. After repeating the process on the other side, you took to dabbing the prescribed spots with those fingers, making sure your right hand touched your left side and your left hand touched your right. You focused on following the list exactly - a dot on the front of each ankle, a dab on the center of the top of the thighs, one on each hip bone, a small swipe along each bottom rib. Each application was made with a whisper of “I can receive”.

Refreshing the liquid on your fingers, this time your pinky fingers, you continued to the next section. You placed a dab at the center of each clavicle, a swipe on the back ends of the jaw, and a circle on each temple, this time muttering “I can hear” with each touch. The liquid placed on each middle finger was rubbed into the opposite wrist to the words “I can unlock”. Lastly, you used your index fingers to draw a star on your third eye. This time right stayed with right and left with left when you flicked the bottom points to aim at your irises (“I can see”) and the side points to follow your brow (“I can know“). Your fingers joined together to draw the final point directly towards the crown of your head. With finality, you voiced a solid and steady “I can understand”.

Once you had finished applying, you noticed a sweet smell start to emanate from your skin. It was quite delicate at first, luring you to lean closer and seek it out. That pull only increased as you also sought more of the pleasant sensation warming your mind with each lungful of the scent. After a good thirty seconds, it leveled out, leaving you feeling boneless and content like you’d woken from a nap basking in the sun. The face of your love smiling down on you during a lazy summer afternoon flashed in your mind with the feeling.

Okay, maybe this will make them confess to me.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Whose confession do you seek?

(list of who I have ideas for in no particular order) Law, Ace, Sanji, Nami, Robin, Koby, Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk

Other names are not unwelcome, just the juices weren't flowing for others vibing immediately with the energy of this prompt but tbh sometimes the challenge of that makes better fics. If you do want to request, please include sfw or nsfw and whether you want gn, afab, amab, fem, or masc. If you don't then my personal default is afab (female physiology, avoided or they/them pronouns for gender). I'm a bit nervous about writing transfem and transmasc properly, but so long as you're okay giving it a once over and pointing if I've made mistakes so I can correct them then I'm happy to try!

Also I had to fight the urge to start this with a dumbass joke hard lol the other first lines were "There are two wolves within you. Both of them are telling you this is likely a crock of shit."

[xwritingdixonx]

To Rot With You | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: The reader and Daryl take a stroll through the forests, contemplating what it truly means to die. And to do it together. (Purely written based on the Hozier song, In A Week.)

Warnings: mention of death, no use of y/n (yay)

Word Count: aprox. 1.5k

Era: hinted at Alexandria, established relationship

Song Recommendations: In a Week - Hozier

A/n: This is pretty simple and short but hopefully still enjoyable!

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The morning air was fresh, chilly, and slightly damp from the rain that fell throughout the night.

The morning was early. It is too early for any creature to crawl from its sleep and begin withering its way around the forest. Or perhaps it was too wet for any creature to begin their everyday lives, still hiding in the safety and warmth of their enclosures. Or perhaps they were bathing in the fuller ponds and slurping from puddles. Or maybe, they were like you. Drudging through the forest in search of their first meal, the pads of their feet slick with mud.

The moist soil squelched beneath your steps. Wet bits of green grass stuck themselves to the textures of your boots. A layer of mud painted itself to the sole of your shoe, lodging itself into whatever print had been carved there.

Though you didn't own a calendar and probably would never again, you could feel it in the air that Winter was ending and Spring was blossoming. The mornings were still chilly but always sunny, the warmth coming in the later hours of the day. And the rain was frequent but it did not bother you. It softened the frozen ground and plumped the trees and flowers so they could grow full of life and beauty. It provided drinking water and filled the natural water resources with even more water.

Daryl, however, was always bothered. He complained about not having seen a rabbit or a deer on your morning hunt. You poked at him and told him they were still resting like you should be. He complained when he slipped in the mud. And he complained even more when he saw a fox saying, that's the reason we ain't finding no rabbits not because they're gettin' some extra shut-eye.

But he never complained about you. Not a word slipped his lips when you distracted him by holding his hand or standing too close. What was wrong about enjoying the presence of your partner? He had woken you up so early to drag you along, he might as well enjoy you.

When it came time to rest, you set up just on the treeline of a wide field. Wild with uncut grass, weeds, and flowers. The both of you sat on a fallen tree, attempting to avoid the wet ground that would surely ruin your clothes. Daryl had particularly picked this spot to keep an eye on anything wandering into the field for a nibble at the grass.

The sounds of the woods fell upon your ears as silence settled. A slight wind disturbed the greenery. Bending the tall grass, making it dance with the wildflowers. It moved the freshly grown leaves on the branches of the trees, flowing around like hair in the wind. The birds chirped their morning songs and the squirrels scattered from one tree to the next. You liked to joke and say they were hiding from Daryl. And truthfully, you couldn't blame them. You also had no desire to be shot with an arrow, skinned, and then thrown on a grill or tossed into a soup.

"Ya alright?" Daryl broke you from your daydreams, his voice gentle and smooth. You turned to catch his gaze, replying with a gentle, “Yeah.” Followed by a reassuring smile. His hand reached for yours, pulling it to rest in his own. You were already at peace in the sounds and scenes of nature but his touch calmed you in places you didn't even know were tense. Every moment you were able to bask in the love you felt for him, you cherished.

Waking up beside him, falling asleep beside him, showering with him. There was nothing you wanted to do without him by your side. And that included death. You had thought about it...many times. How could you not in a world like this? Death was always right around the corner; peeking, creeping, and waiting. You and Daryl had had your fair share of scares over the years and those thoughts haunted your mind every time. How could you go on without him? How could you fight every day if the thing you're fighting to go home to, is no longer there?

Daryl had the same gloomy thoughts. Losing you was, as clique as it sounds, his worst nightmare. He ran from the thoughts as much as his legs would let him but eventually his legs wore out and it caught up to him in the worst of times. When you got hurt, even the smallest scratch sent him tumbling down. He’d grasp onto you, repeating the same words again and again; Are ya okay? Can I do anythin’? M’sorry. But the gloomiest time came at night after you'd fallen asleep, leaving him alone to succumb to the dreading feeling that was always chasing him. He’d lay beside you, watching your gentle features finally be at ease and always making sure your chest rose and fell with gentle breaths.

“We should just stay here.” You didn’t turn to look at Daryl when you spoke but he looked at you, admiring your silhouette as you looked off. “What do ya mean?” Daryl answered. He wasn’t entirely sure if you were actually talking to him or if the thoughts in your mind were just slipping from your lips. “We come to sit here all the time and no matter the weather, it’s always just…” Your words trailed off as your mind searched for the word to describe the scene before you.

“Perfect?”

An airy laugh came from your chest at Daryl’s word choice. You turned to him then. With your hand still in his, you brought it to your lips and planted a kiss. Almost as a way to say, thank you for the effort. “Comforting. But yes, also perfect.” In your mind it was warmth when it was cold, it was a breath of fresh air in a world of rotting corpses, it was the hope of a future in a world of early death. But he was right…in simple words it was perfect.

“We can build a little house-”

“We?”

With only one word his tone was thick with sarcastic disbelief. You playfully rolled your eyes and gave his hand a squeeze. With your free hand, you pointed to a random spot in the clearing as you rephrased your previous sentence. “You could build me a little house right there.” Daryl liked the sound of that better. A house he was to build, with his hands, just for you to live in. “We’ll fill it with all our things, steal some furniture from home, and scavenge the rest…We can build a fence around so we’re safe.” Your words were a daydreamy gleam and you were far from finished. “We’ll light fires in the Winter to stay warm and open the windows in Spring…” This was obviously a daydream you had put quite a bit of thought into, one you’d laid up at night pondering about, and Daryl would not rob himself of the indulgence of your words.

"I'll start a garden and you’ll hunt. We’ll always have full tummies,” You looked away from the sky to meet his equally blue eyes, “And even fuller hearts.” Your gentle smile rested upon your face and your eyes were filled with the longing of a home that only existed in your whimsical daydreams. Though it did not exist and there was a possibility it never would, Daryl felt himself melting into this world of what-ifs. Daryl had never associated the words home and love together before. But…what if it could exist? What if he could build a home. A home just for him. A home of comfort…a home where he could just simply love and not be afraid.

“W’bout everyone back home?” He questioned, “They’ll never find us.” You responded quickly. Daryl shook his head and scoffed, “Nah, they’d find us in less than a week.” Daryl’s ears perked up at the sound of your soft laughter. “Yeah, yeah they would.” Daryl’s eyes never left you, even when you turned your head to look around the wooded area. He could practically see the way you were editing your story. “Fine, we’ll uh-” Motioning behind you, you continued, “We’ll clear a path through the woods all the way to the road. So they can always come visit.”

Then, as you looked at him, the dread crept upon you. Wrapping its clawed mangled hands around your perfect bubble. “And when we go…we’ll go together.” This caught Daryl by surprise. The fate he so deeply feared was no longer chasing him. It was sitting on that tree with him…and in the form of the words that came from your tongue. “C’mom..don’t talk ‘bout that.” He tried to defer but you would not let him. Whether you went from a bite, from a bullet, from a freak accident, or if you were lucky enough to go naturally, it was and always will be the inevitable truth of fate. “Once we’ve lived in our home long enough and full of love, we can lay in the grass and go.”

Everyone went back to the earth anyway, right? You had no desire to be thrown in a hole and covered in damp cold dirt. If you had to decay, you wanted to be on the soft grass, under the sun, even under the rain. You wanted the wildflowers to eventually grow through the cracks of your skeleton, just as you had seen done with other animal carcasses. You’d let the bugs find shelter in your bones and you’d let the foxes nibble at you. Maybe it would stop them from eating all of Daryl’s rabbits.

“I mean it…I don’t wanna go alone. Never mind how it takes me, I just wanna go with you.” The hope that your eyes once shined was now overshadowed by the tears that formed in your waterline. Daryl swallowed the lump that formed in the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He opened his arms to you, providing you the comfort you desperately needed.

Now with your rambling seemingly done and your body against his, Daryl thought.

“Alright.” Was all he said. Though it wasn’t a typical alright, it was serious. You pulled yourself up from his chest and looked to him with a cocked eyebrow, “Alright?” You questioned. “Yeah.” His demeanor confused you, seconds ago you were spewing words of fantasy, words of love and death, but now he seemed a little too serious on the matter. “What do you mean?”

“Means I wanna do it.” He spoke with his face close to yours, eyes locking into your own, so so close. “Imma build ya a home. Might take a little bit but I promise I will.” With his promise, you closed the sliver of space between you. You had kissed him many times before but there was a new feeling to the gentle urgency his lips met yours with. You could feel the fear of fate melting away in the softness of his kisses and you felt the desire for a peaceful future replace it. And that peaceful future tugged at your lips and ran its fingers through Daryl’s hair.

But most of all there was now a promise. A promise that you’d build together, love together, be full together, and eventually…you’d rot together.

[angelic-daiquiri]

🍞 🥖 & 🧇 for the baked goods ask game!!

🍞 : BREAD . . . create a mood board of some of your closest friendships in your desired reality. you could include their face claim, favorite color, clothing style, what your friendship with them all looks like, etc.

Honestly I feel like this one is going to be biiiiggg so I'll make another post answering the other two, also Ive used ai for few people since I didn't feel comfortable using real people as their face claims

(ps I'm so sorry I couldn't answer this before, I didn't have time to make the mood boards) (also this is for my succubus dr)

Avery grey:

a party girl with a caramel covered heart and a honey laced soul. She has the prettiest brown eyes and the softest lips that speak the funniest words

you'd get addicted to her voice, and how she smells like sweet caramel, her lips that taste of honey the way she tucks her hair behind her ear and looks up at you with so much affection, you'd never want to leave her embrace. Born on 15th October, 2000, in san francisco, CA, to a mother who is a model and a father rumoured to be a rich businessman. She's a workaholic model who is one of the main stars of SERENITY a club that favors women and their empowerment by spreading body positivity and removing the taboo cultures all over USA She's also the host, the one who hypes up to crowd, the one who is filled with charisma and sensuality. She doesn't mind the attention, in fact she loves it. Especially when it's from her favourite bartender, kiara.

Kiara narania:

roasted almonds and salt lakes, in the form of a girl with a passion in mixology

She's said to be a cold-hearted girl with a hatered towards immature men, with her savory insults and looks leave your throat dry and filled with taste. They say that caramel goes well with salt, don't they? And honey and almonds too Born on 17th November, 1998, in Manhattan to immigrant parents hoping her indian daughter would become something big and powerful in the world. She's the main bartender and manager at SERENITY LAS VEGAS. but she also sings when drunk and only during the days where only girls, gays, and queers are allowed (no disgusting men indeed) She hates it when someone makes a move on her and she swears on her life that she'd stay single forever. But that changes one a certain brown haired girl walks in making caramel and honey her new favourite thing.

Zoela campbell:

rainforests, sunsets and tropical fruit salads in a person indeed

she's sweet like mangoes and strawberries, like jasmines and lotuses, like the smell of rain she's calm like the ocean and like tides is affected by the moon so deeply that she's at her best at midnight Born on 8th July, 1999 and under the same roof as angel and Brianna. She's filled with the desire to travel, she loves swimming, it's like nature calls her name everytime it catches a glimpse of her radiance She's the main dancer at SERENITY LAS VEGAS. Her body keeping everyone under a trance, under a trance of her beauty, her gracefulness, her beauty, her addictive aura She's sunshine, fresh air and adrenaline. She swears she'll never fall in love, but when Brianna's older brother walks in, all nonchalant and shit she can't deny her initial attraction to him

Brianna Anderson:

A fire place, smores and jolly ranchers that stain your tongue with colour. that's the best way to describe her as a beautiful mess

stereotypical skater girl, she's like fire uncontrollable but mature, she loves candy, chocolate (and angel), she denys bi allegations, but still her first crush was megan fox. she loves anything thats colourful, the arcade, jolly ranchers, (her personality ) Born on 4th April, 2000, under the same roof as angel and zoela, she can't deny her attraction to a certain confusing girl, her boyfriend is well aware of that, but he knows she loves him too. She's the sassy waitress and the lead singer and bassist in her band at SERENITY LAS VEGAS An introvert, who thought she'd be better off alone but now her fire was met with more flames, more eruptions, more light. Finally she's in a place that's home with her found family, but this weird obsession with the girl she doesn't even like might break it all.

Kang jae-hee (jade):

Like vanilla, frosting and tequila. Dior, flower knows, Chanel and daiquiris. That's what she is, an independent lily grown in a garden of a wealthy girl.

Vanilla scented body lotion, pheromone perfume, and pretty duo toned eyes. She was being divine feminine before it became popular, she was wonyoungism before wonyoung. Born on 14th February, 2000. In Malibu, and adopted by a country club owner (who also created serenity and now owns it) and and her husband, a stay at home husband. She's spoiled, but she loves spending money that she earns herself. Her mother is her role model, and she is aspiring to be a smart business women herself. Her hobby is performing, and lucky for her, her mom owns one of the most prestigious clubs SERENITY, being drawn to the las vegas branch, she's been working there for the past 13 months. She's an independent woman, with her priorities straight and nothing comes in between her and her friends, the girls. Or does it?

Final words

This took me so fucking long, I adore each and every one of my friends, I know this is so long but it is worth it. Like I love it!! Thank you all for reading ana out

[pulim-v]

I have stuff to reply to but to get this out of the way so I can post KR today

Foggy Glasses and Corroded Copper: Rowan's Birthday - part 3

Warning: this work contains depictions of: alcohol consumption and intoxication

Rowan woke up on Sunday feeling incredibly unwell. His head hurt, he felt sick to his stomach, he slept fully dressed up and thus had an incredibly uncomfortable night, and to top it all off his ears were ringing incessantly. The worst part, though, was that he could not fully remember why he felt that way.

After drinking several glasses of water, taking some painkillers and asking his parents about what happened, Rowan decided to take a look at his phone. Though the bright light from it worsened his persistent headache, he still stared at the notifications in the screen

[3 unread messages from Dew Botanyuki K.I.T.]

["Hey dude, sorry for yesterday night '-, w-,)"]

["Idt you're doing great today (neither am I lol) so the car thing's postponed till next week, okay?"]

["Also umm... thinking abt it you might have been right abt some stuff from yesterday @~@ so thx 4 that"]

Rowan was stilll a tad lost about the situation, but he did remember a few scattered scenes. He responded to Dew, explaining that he didn't fully remember what happened, and though Dew didn't have all the information he did help out in piecing things together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Hi Rowan! Glad you got here!" Dew said, extending their hand to Rowan.

"Hey Dew, good evening." Rowan said with a warm smile on his face. He was still a tad hesitant about this party, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend time with his dear friend.

Rowan shook Dew's hand, entered the room and took note of the people there - there were a few familiar faces, some chemistry students he'd seen before, and, of course, Octavia and her friends. Which included Spark.

"Hey, let me introduce you to a couple people real quick." Dew said, calling Rowan over as they walked right next to the drinks table. There, there were two people: one Rowan recognized as Blizzard, an arctic fox from Chemistry that talked to Dew every once in a while; the other (a red panda), he couldn't quite recognize, they must have been from another course.

Dew gestured towards the duo. "These two are my friends! You might already know them, since they share a few classes with you, but these are Sprout and Blizzard." they pointed towards the fox. "She's from the Chemistry course," and then they ponted to the red panda, who, as it turned out, was named Sprout, "and he's from the Chemical Engineering Course, the same as you!"

"I think we've met before. Rowan, right? Nice to properly meet you, though." Blizzard said, not looking in Rowan's direction.

"Heya! I think I've seen you around a few times, what's up?" Sprout said, seemingly unconcerned but with his gaze fixed upon Rowan.

"Umm, hi. Good evening, nice to meet you two." Rowan said, ignoring the sweat that ran through his back.

"Alright then, you three can keep chatting, I have to go check up on Via!" Dew said with a big smile on their face, before ruffling Rowan's hair and leaving towards a small group of people.

Rowan decided to take a proper look at Sprout. He seemed... interesting. His hair was red, short, and a tad messy. His shirt was haphazardly buttoned up, a red ribbon on its collar. He wore a green cardigan, though it was a tad dirty, with a small amount of stains here and there. What stuck out most to him, though, were his eyes. A deep and striking shade of red, but with large bags underneath them, as if the man hadn't slept properly in days. Rowan felt a weird desire to get to know him better, but he couldn't quite explain why.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Dew Botanyuki K.I.T.]

[Dew: That's how the start of the party went. After that, I just kinda left you there since I wanted to talk with Via '- w-)]

[You: I do remember that happening, yes. What was next, though?]

[Dew: hmm... idrk! I only remember what happened at the end, I think you drank a lot of stuff cuz you were rlly drunk .w.]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So yeah, the new short is going pretty well." Octavia said, her friends nodding in agreement.

"That's wonderful, Via! Your short films are all really cool, you four are super talented!" Dew responded.

Suddenly, Dew felt a hand on his shoulder, turning around to see Sprout, who was clearly drunk, but had a very tense expression.

"Hey, dude, we need to talk real quick." Sprout said, with Dew noticing Rowan was by his side, his face very red for some reason. "You've left to hang out with your other friends and are pretty much ignoring your friend here, who only knows you in this party, and is probably drinking for the first time in his life, so now he's blackout drunk and saying a lot of stuff he'll definitely regret. Call his parents and have them take him home, aight? I can handle stuff over here." Sprout said, quietly but very clearly concerned, looking directly into Dew's eyes.

"Hey, Rowan, can you call your parents? I think you should go home." Dew said, looking directly at Rowan.

"Yeah, let me just... get my phone," Rowan said, taking his phone out of his pocket. A moment later, he put it back in there, a frustrated expression on his face. "It isn't turning on. I must've forgotten the flashlight on." Rowan said.

"Hey, umm, sorry to barge in, but are your parents the Lantanas? I could call them if you need me to." Octavia popped into the conversation, standing beside Dew.

"Yeah. How did you know that?" Rowan said.

"Oh, I go to their store frequently, and they talk about their son Rowan quite a bit. You also do resemble them a lot." Octavia said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks a lot, Via! You two can go to the kitchen to sort that out, I gotta talk to Dew real quick." Sprout said, awkwardly smiling.

Rowan and Octavia went out if the room, and Sprout directed Dew to one of the room's corners.

"What do you need to talk about, Sprout?" Dew said, a tad nervous.

"That guy was saying some kinda weird stuff. I won't say all of it, but you should probably ask him about it. All you need to know is he's assuming some weird things about you and Octavia, and he himself seems to like you quite a bit." Sprout said, his serious demeanor turning into a giggle at the end.

After Octavia and Rowan came back, they talked to Dew and explained that Rowan's parents couldn't make it, but they trusted Octavia's friend to get him back to their house. Sprout decided to keep taking care of the party, so Dew and Rowan went to Dew's car and left the house. As they drove, Dew tried to learn about what happened at the party.

"So, what were you talking about?" Dew said, not looking in Rowan's direction as he focused on the empty road.

"Ugh, I really have to tell you, huh?" Rowan responded.

"Only if you want to, but I'd really like that, from what Sprout told me - don't worry, he didn't say much - you were talking about me and Via."

"It's just... I think you're really handsome and cool and just a great guy!" Rowan said, and Dew noticed that it seemed as if he were crying.

"Well, I'm flattered, but what's the big de-" Dew started to say.

"And you're so hot, but I don't think you'd be into me and I know you're already into Via and I don't want to assume but- but-" Rowan sniffled, Dew barely being able to make out what he was saying through his tears. "Please don't hate me..."

"Why would I hate you?" Dew said, concerned. "I don't mind it if you think I'm hot. I don't feel the same way, but we can still be friends, and I really appreciate you telling me this, it's important to admit these things so you don't bottle up your emotions." They continued, slowing down Rowan's crying. "Though... what do you mean I'm into Via? Where did you get that from?" Dew concluded, feeling their face get a bit warmer.

"Oh, I'm sorry for assuming." Rowan said, pretty much not crying anymore. "It's just that every time you talk about her, you start blushing, and the way you comment about her in general just made it seem like you had a crush on her or something." Rowan concluded, his voice getting quieter as Dew noticed him shrinking into his seat.

"I never thought about her in that way... but I can see how you'd think that" Dew said, thinking deeply about it. Could he have a crush on Octavia? He couldn't be sure. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. Dew sighed. "The thing is... I'm sorry. I left you alone at the party and just spent time with my other friends, I should've put in more effort to include you." Dew continued, having difficulty with looking at the road as his eyes started to water.

Dew slowed the car down, glanced at the GPS and saw they were almost halfway to Rowan's house according to the address he had put in. They took a deep breath, than started talking again.

"It's... really hard. I try to pay attention to you guys, I try to put in effort, and show that I care, but that's just a really hard thing for me to do, y'know? And I don't know, I'm already taking meds for my ADHD, and that's helping out a lot, so am I just... lazy? Do I just not care?" Dew took his hand from the steering wheel and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry for dumping this on you, Rowan. I'm really sorry." They concluded, once again focusing on the road.

The car kept on moving, going through the moonlit streets, as the awkward silence inside the car was nearly as cold as the dark night on Mount Kimoru. As it reached the Lantana family's house, Rowan had drifted to sleep, a fact that Dew noticed only when they stopped the car.

Dew woke Rowan up, opened the car's door and took him outside, holding his hand and leading him towards the house's doors. Rowan's father answered the door, greeted Dew and thanked him for the help, apologizing for the trouble he had caused.

"It's no big deal" Dew laughed. "Good night, Mr. Lantana," Dew shook the man's hand, "And good night, Rowan." Dew hugged Rowan, who hugged back, mumbling something that Dew couldn't understand.

After Rowan's father closed the door, Dew entered his car. He sat with himself for a few minutes, thinking over what had happened, before driving back to the party to wrap things up.

[theshypinkflower]

I have got QUESTIONS!!! And I really need head cannons for them please... How would Ren feel or do or be like if he found out that the MC was a beastkin bunny, I need to know!!!, if you can of course no pressure pookie:3

Constant predator prey dynamic.

Every waking moment Ren will remind how you're just a little bunny. A helpless little fluffball giving your life to a fox. You know he could eat you right? Hell hes restraining himself to not pounce on you and sink his teeth into you.

He'll graze your neck with his teeth, keeping it in the back or your mind he can just rip into you whenever he wants. Takes such good care of you too. Gives anything his little bunny desires. Except freedom. Afterall little house bunnies get eaten by big scary animal when they're alone. You should be grateful that a fox is willing to protect you and not even dare eat you! No matter how good you smell.

Loves seeing your little nose twitch in fear. He plays with your ears so much, stroking them and just fidgeting with them. He keeps his bunny dressed so cutely. Little bunnies are meant to be cute! He'll brush your hair and maybe even braid if it's long enough.

Of course he just leaves a COUPLE of bites. Reminds you of who's in charge here. Ren may give you all you want, but you still answer to him. As long as you're a good little bunny he wont bite and scratch you up TOO much. He gets feral having you underneath him tho.

You're just so cute and helpless! Threatens to eat you or knock you up with little fox pups. Honestly depends if hes more hungry or horny. Mounting you from behind and curling his tail around you. He loves seeing you cry when you take his knot. Afterall bunnies dont get knotted, do they?

He at least gives amazing after care. Runs you a bath and makes sure is bunny is once more all soft and clean. You're just the cutest to him <3