#look at that blonde beautiful mane

[drzibs]

the horse girl in me wants so badly to draw eom’s trusty steeds….. i can see buttercup and witchstomper so clearly in my head

[cowgirlcherrie]

florist! abby Headcanons ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

a/n: something quick n sweet you knowwwww got this random thought and had to write it I couldn’t resist I couldn’t. I also saw that no one done florist! abby(?) so I wanted to be the first to hop on! plus I missed writing for Abs — my baby, so enjoy ♡

warnings: 18+, MDNI, some fluff, gets smuttier halfway in, strap, blowjob (strap), eating you out, mentions of obsessive behaviors, polaroid nudes-ish, fingering, edging, public-sex-ishh, soft dom! Abby, tatted! Abby. Hinted at smoker Abby if you squint, petnames, fingers in mouth, masturbation, use of the word mommy, use of the word pussy, fem reader.

divider creds here

ೀ florist! Abby wears a basic white cropped t-shirt and black dickies under her beige apron. Her apron has a rainbow flag pin, with black pliers in one pocket. Doc Martins on her feet, tied miserably into a bow, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip around the flower shop. She has a carabiner on her belt loop that jingles every time she walks. 

– apart from smelling like the flowers (obvi bc of where she works) smells like heavy pine and fresh soap, like forget the additives – just clean if ykyk

ೀ florist! Abby gets little patchwork tattoos in random places: a dainty lavender tattoo on her wrist, a little crescent moon behind her ear, paw prints on her bicep for her late dog Alice, a ‘gentle artist’ in bolded times new roman font – but dainty on her forearm. Her knuckles are tatted spelling out “FUCK YOU”.

ೀ florist! Abby that has a ‘Save the Bees!’ sticker on the back of her phone case. Super Bee activist.

ೀ florist! Abby who spends all day in the floral shop, playing music from her playlist on the shop’s aux, slightly swaying to the music as she works on a bouquet. She works with such prestige, god her hands work so quickly at building arrangements but the outcome is so beautiful and that’s why she has many customers. She definitely uses any leftover flowers as bookmarks for her books.

ೀ florist! Abby who’s aux will go from Lauryn Hill to Boy Genius to Mac Miller — she gets compliments on her music taste by customers all the time.

ೀ florist! Abby stops working on a bouquet when you walk into the store because of how confused you look. Wanting to save a damsel in distress. Abby moves from her place at the counter walking over to where you stood looking at the different types of flowers, creeping behind you. You smell divine to her, driving her head crazy knowing that your scent alone will be stuck in her head all day. The floral shop is a slow yet steady business, so Abby definitely doesn’t forget a face or a smell. The form-fitting dress you wore that day, the way your hands bunched at the fabric in confusion had her head spinning!

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Abby whispers from behind you,

Actually scares the living shit out of you when you see her standing behind you, but the way the sun was hitting her face from the big window panels made you less nervous. Rather in awe at the beauty in front of you. Her sunkissed skin, and silky blonde mane, were raveled in a delicate braid with wispies around her face. The raspiness from her voice – which honestly sounded like a smoker's voice now that you thought about it. 

ೀ florist! Abby who makes small talk with you while making your boquette for you (taking her slow sweet time), asking you where you’re from and what you’re doing in town? Absolutely praying that the flowers aren’t for some significant other of yours, Abby letting out an exhale when you say that they’re for your mom who you are visiting for dinner. When you mention you are unsure of what flowers to get don’t worry Abby will help you!

“So pretty girl, are you more minimalistic, talking Lilies, Gardenia’s, Jasmine – which is over there...or colorful? Which I think your beautiful self enjoys a nice Orchid, Camellia, or Begonia?”

Definitely shocks you with how well she knows her stuff

ೀ florist! Abby zones out when you are speaking and stares at your lips for far too long, looking at the way your pink gloss shines wondering how your pretty lips would look taking her strap. Percase covered in spit, from your saliva that has built up from blowing her off. Abby wanted to do nothing more than take the pretty little fabric ribbon from your hair and tie it around your hands as she went down on you while you beg her to touch you in all the right places – it was all a dream to her. Wet dreaming with you right in front of her.

Undeniably horny and touch deprived…she spends so much time in the floral shop she doesn’t have time for dating apps and finds shit like Tinder CORNY LOL. 

Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest not to stare at the way her arms are flexing or how her fingers are paying delicate attention to your bouquet, mentally laughing at the “FUCK YOU” on her knuckles, it contrasted her soft nature so much.

ೀ florist! Abby who slips in a little note into your tote back when you’re not looking, with her number on it, hoping that you would find it and call her soon, Which you do find when you are scrambling for your keys on your way back to the car. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to give the overly, steaming attractive florist a call. 

ೀ florist! Abby when the two of you start dating, she would teach you how to make a bouquet, standing closely behind you – her body right up against your back as you feel her breath tickling your ear as she whispers to you what to do

“Atta girl, look at that my sweet girl – woah! watch your hand there’s a thorn baby.”

Will definitely put her hands over yours as she works with the knife to make sure there isn’t any thorns so you don’t prick yourself. 

ೀ florist! Abby fucking you in the flower shop, when the shop is closed. Having her head in between your thighs, as her jaw slacks – the sound of your juices sloshing against her mouth as she sends hums into your pussy making you let out low mewls. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth but she slaps it away so that she can see you

“Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see you…look at how beautiful you look whining for me doll”

ೀ florist! Abby who kept your lace underwear in her pocket after she fucked you in the floral shop keeping it for safe-keeping (pft…we all know what she is doing with that)

ೀ florist! Abby who shows you her small pocket-sized notebook full of different flowers and arrangement ideas she had. Even the sketches of a flower bouquet that she made inspired by you and all your favorite flowers.

ೀ florist! Abby definitely tucks flowers behind your ears, specifically a white or light-pink Carnation. Especially loves putting one behind your ear as she fucks you with her strap, missionary style so she can see your face – just loves your face honestly. Bending down to kiss your lips, her cheeks dusted red with the pressure she applies.

Tucking her head into your neck swiftly smelling the carnation that she put behind your ear driving her even further insane as she drills into you — makes her go faster.

ೀ When she starts teaching you more about flowers, Definitely uses sexual enforcement to get you to remember it. Will have you sat on her counter as she stands in between your legs – locking you in as she lunges two fingers into you, edging you and not letting you cum until you say the right name of the flower that she taught you. But you could hardly focus staring at her inked knuckles as they pump in and out of you which only makes you reach your climax even further. 

“You wanna come don’t you my sweet girl? I know you want to…just say the name– awh don’t whine at me…I know you know it dollface, I don’t buy that you don’t.”

Sometimes she’ll give you a hint if the flower starts with one of the letters on her knuckles she will stick the corresponding finger into you, working at getting you just about there as her finger curls into you. Your vision is blurry as you can hardly tell what the letter is, moaning out as you try to focus on the order of the letters on her knuckles to catch the hint.

“C’mon baby I’m giving you a hint…pay attention sweetheart– focus!”

ೀ florist! Abby when you get it wrong and she finally lets you come — is fake-mad at you, shoving the lettered finger down your throat as you gag on her fingers covered in your juices.

“Baby the hinted letter was C, and the other finger was U, flower: Curcuma. You’ll get it right next time right sweetheart? You won’t let mommy down hmm?”

ೀ florist! Abby is definitely a soft dom just saying… soft as hell, loves when you hold her – kiss her, and skin-to-skin contact is important as hell she just wants to feel you and loves when you baby her. 

ೀ Definitely keeps a Polaroid of you holding flowers in pink floral lingerie in her beige apron and another one of you in her wallet, that way she has you on her at all times (honestly probably touched herself to blow off some steam after a hard shift while looking at it)

ೀ Depending on how far the relationship goes, especially if y’all start talking marriage will get your favorite flower tatted and not tell you until you see a dainty tattoo of your favorite flower on her collarbone slightly above her heart as she is filling you up, you questioning her in between moans about it.

“Mmhm…fuck is that new? Shit..abbyplease – wait is that my favorite flower?” You ask, as she grinds into you – your finger dragging against the tattoo

“Yes baby, you’re all mine. Mine…mine…mine” As she pounds harder into to you each time she says mine. Obsessive, possessive + territorial, let’s talk about it 

ೀ florist! Abby is overall just a sweetheart who loves you so much and just wants you to be her pretty flower – her muse, you definitely inspire most of her bouquets and she is so happy you ran into her shop looking for flowers that day.

[trulyumai]

touching upon ash

—pairing: Pre fallen! Messmer / Wife! Reader

Synopsis: Messmer was never good at dealing with jealousy. So how will he deal with such a situation at hand, led by his brother no less?

—Warnings: Show of anger, jealousy, protectiveness.

A/N: guess who's back, back again

Messmer was furious. 

Anger bit at the seams of his being, fueling the fire that sprawled across his fingers until it met with his forearm and made home on his skin.  

Seeing his wife there, gracing and upsetting the presence with that… filth.

Today, he caved into his little wife; brought her to the outskirts of town and to the city of the west. To the enclave of shops and people that littered the flower lands. She had begged him for weeks on end, saying how she missed the pretty mounds of plants, that she was out of plenty necessities for the excuse of an outing. 

Now he regrets permitting such an occasion. To see her mingle so freely with that man. He could set fire to the lands now, spit at the burning corpses below his feet and save her the trouble of talking to anyone again.

He had no idea Godwyn the Golden would visit such a place, so far from the capital. Today of all days.

A basket, wickered and hand made was placed at the hip of her dress. She laughed jovially at something the blonde had pointed at, to which she then nodded her head, enthusiastically responding in her own unaware manner. 

Not seeing the twitch of the flames fingers, nor of is now close proximity. 

She had to feel the touch of his warm digits, caressing the backside of her covered form to know of the man's presence. 

“Husband!” His wife greeted, already getting onto her tippy toes to place a little kiss to the mans cheek. Unconsciously Messmer bent down, ever used to her smaller form as a look of hate spewed from his features, towards the so-called, “Lord.” 

“Ah, brother,” Godwyn smiled, citizens around the group had taken notice of the lord's frame, stopping to stare at such a gift of grace, from Queen Marika herself.

“Enjoying the festivities I see.” 

Messmer shifted uncomfortably. To see the golden order placed upon his armor with such casualty. It made a hatred boil up, if only he could grab the man by his neck, lift him up pathetically until his skin burned and b-

“We were just sightseeing, my lord. The flowers are beautiful this time of year.” Godwyn’s eyes twinkled with a sense of understanding, the skin crinkled around his mouth as a warm smile broadened. 

“Of course, such an appropriate response for someone as… kindhearted as thou.”

Messmers hands cracked with pressure, his knuckles a deep red as the blood flow squeezed with a strength only the flame could emit. 

Godwyn ignored such tells, instead, he reached out into the pouch upon his side, taking out a white lily. It was gorgeous, from its delicate pale petals to the leaves that cascaded down the stock. He reached forward and did something Messmer would never be able to shake off. 

His hand brushed against her hair delicately, lightly slotting it between her ear and the cascading waves of brushed mane that fell upon his wife's back. It hung there loosely as her fingertips came up to greet the new addition of elegance. 

“Thank you, my lord that- was awfully kind of you.”

“Nonsense!” The man responded, cooly placing his hand back at his side. “Someone as enticing as you should always be gifted with any form of beauty. Now,” With a perfect stance the man bowed his head, already raising his gloved hands in dismissal. “I'll hope for a visit soon from the two of you. Take care, mh?” Turning fully around, Godwyn's armor clashed against the colors around. So golden, so pristine. Everything else lay so distasteful compared to such a maximalist sight. 

Finally craning her neck up, her head met with Messmers chest. Arms coiled around her body tightly, protectively trying to shield her from any more prying eyes. He tried to calm himself, he really did. 

But to see him touch her like that? 

Losing it, the knight snapped. Placing a hand upon the back of your neck, he quickly guided you both through the crowd, ignoring the startled cries erupting from his wife's lips. “Mess- what are you-” 

Moving at space that was deemed too slow for his liking, big hands came to nest there way under her thighs until they lifted her completely. Now she lay in his arms, bridal style as the red haired man moved carelessly. Pushing and shoving anyone out of his way, to return to their rightful spot. 

Their home. Where they would have been in the first place.

The basket wobbled in the girl's lap and with the added force, fruits had come loose, spilling from the wickered hold and dropping onto the ground. She tried to get the man's attention, pushed at his broad shoulders in defiance but he paid it no mind. 

He kept the fast pace, too clouded with rage to pay his adoring wife any mind. 

They arrived home much quicker than she thought was possible. Messmer had plopped her down just in front of the house, by the gardens she had tended to just that morning. 

Her hair now messy and undone (paired with the upset expression), held upon her delicate features. It made the man buckle with uneasy guilt. 

That was until he saw the lily flopped against the side of her cheek. Like it belonged there.

There was that burning rage again.

Veiny hands quickly snatched at the plant, making his wife flinch back in shock. The lily, now sagging against his palms, was covered almost instantly by his hands. 

She reached out, demanded the man return such a gift before a sizzling sounded out. Then, a smoke black and gray fell between the man's fingers as his flame swallowed the flower whole. 

She did nothing but watch as he cradled his palm, watched as the ash seeped between his fingers and stained his hands. 

Finally feeling free of such hostile emotions, the man could breathe once more. Looking away from his soot covered hand, his wife's lip jutted up in rebuttal. Already he could se a sadness gnawing at her orbs. He felt guilty, not for destroying such a gift, but for allowing such a negative emotion to take hold of his wife. 

He was never good at comforting her. With desperate eyes he moved away from her, quickly seizing a plant from its flowerbed and holding it out to her shakily. 

Licking his lips he waited- felt the brush of her fingers as they took the little plant from his grasp. 

An altus bloom stood firmly in her grasp. Its bright color lit up with a lovely hue and Messmer hoped such an action would replace the lilys existence. 

“I…” Not knowing what to say, he just stood there. Form now sagging with a tiredness. The end of his rage and adrenaline left him tired and weak. Weak from staring at the pretty, upset form in front of him. Those pouting lips and pinkened cheeks. 

Gods. How did he get so lucky? 

She cradled the flower to her chest, dirt had smudged on the cotton and Messmer went to brush it away with light and small drags of his nail. 

“It's okay.” She spoke. Voice so small the knight wanted to set himself ablaze. 

“Is it?” The man was insecure in his own actions; too afraid his show of dominance had pushed her way. 

“It is.” Relief flooded through his system as a smile was given to the man in reassurance. He couldn't help but let himself fall down to her height and drag his nose across her neck. Her sweet scent helped calm him down, it was always an efficient way to stop any troubling thoughts to merge its way across his mind. 

That's all that needed to be said, it seemed. For the girl had tugged on his forearm, leading him into their shack to start a well needed home meal. 

[tallyica]

hihi!

this is for @mustainegf writing comp- I've never written fanfiction (let alone smut) before so i hope this isn't too terrible

(also ik the pic is MOP era but its the only pic of them in the snow with cliff so pretend its RTL era)

word count: 4,334

warnings: fluff, eventual smut (it takes awhile), kissing, really awkward moments, reader blushes way too much and is too nervous around james

𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙄𝘾𝙀 (1985 james)

Every so often, my brother, Lars, would allow me to join him and his band, Metallica, on tour. This was one of those every so oftens as the band traveled to our home country, Denmark. I always enjoyed these times traveling with him. I loved the scenes and the music, but, I mostly looked for to getting to spend time with one of his closest friends, James. 

This stop of the tour was a longer one, instead of the regular show-and-go, the five of us were going to spend the weekend here in our place of childhood, Gentofte Municipality, Denmark. We were able to muster the money to rent a 2 bedroom cabin, which wasn't too convenient with five of us planning to stay there the full weekend. 

As much as it would've joyed me to share a bed with James, I knew it would've been awkward for not just us, but the whole band, so I took the couch in the end. Lars and James would share one of the rooms, and Kirk and Cliff in the other. 

The cabin was slightly cramped, for five people at least. The scenery was beautiful, a perfect, homey, and cozy feeling.

It was the second day of our time here, so the place had grown quite messy due to the boy's frequent drinking and rowdy behavior. They had performed the night prior, so the fridge was empty, with nothing to eat or drink.

It was nearing 8 PM, and we were all thirsty and hungry for something to eat.

We were all sitting in the messy living room, scattered with empty cans and bottles of beer with chip bags scattered about as well.

“The storm is only gonna get worse, we should go get something before the stores close.”  Lars finally decided, glancing around the other four of us, who all collectively nodded.

“I’ll go with you, I need to get out anyways, it's too tight in here.” Kirk agreed, standing up to grab the keys of the rental car we had gotten.

“You guys wanna go?” Lars questioned James, Cliff, and I. 

Cliff nodded, standing with a sigh, “Uhm, sure I guess, I’ll go.”

“James? You gonna come?” Lars asked again, to which James shook his head.

“You think I’d go out in that shit? No, I'll stay in here.” He said with a scoff.

Lars nodded with a sigh, “Alright, you?”

I shook my head, “Nah, I'm good.” I said, my tone slightly hesitant.

Lars nodded, saying goodbye as he walked out with the other two, heading towards the car.

It seemed that with them leaving, the room felt hotter, even with missing three bodies. I wasn't paying much attention, my eyes absentmindedly staring at James.

The two of us had never really had time alone, it was always with Lars or the whole band there. I watched as he fidgeted with his thumbs before standing up and walking towards the window, my eyes following his every move.

I didn't think he could see me staring, as I never made it too obvious, but he could feel my eyes boring into him. 

“Storm is only getting rougher out there, it's gonna be a mess when they come back,” James observed, though his words were just an absent hum as I was lost in my thoughts, staring at the man I had been crushing on since I met him. 

My eyes traced each of his features, studying how his messy, long, curly blonde mane draped on his back and shoulders, his muscular frame, and his strong jaw. My thoughts began to wander, too far maybe, thinking of how his bangs would cover his sweat-coated forehead, his muscles twitching as he groaned while.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” His words quickly snapped me out of my thoughts as he caught my eyes with his own. 

I paused, “Uhm.. yeah, what were you talking about?” I said, my face heating, a small pink on my cheeks as he held eye contact with me from across the room.

He rolled his eyes, “I said that the storm outside is getting pretty bad. The guys may struggle to get back before everything freezes. Were you even listening?” 

I nodded, “Yeah, totally, just.. spaced out a bit..” I said, my tone slightly embarrassed. 

I was such a terrible liar, I hadn't even heard a word the man had said. I was too lost in the thoughts of him.

James sighed, walking back towards the couch and sitting next to me.

“Kinda cold in here, don't you think?” He asked, glancing at me as I kicked the blanket off of myself.

Cold? How is he cold? My body feels like it's on fire! With this proximity, just the two of us? How could he be cold?

“Do you dislike questions or something? Or is it me?” He teased me for not responding to his questions for the second time.

“No, sorry, just.. thinking, I guess,” I paused, trying to remember what we were talking about in the first place, “Uh, no, I don't find it too cold. It's kinda hot in here.” I said, my eyes once again wandering to him, though avoiding his own.

“Hot? It's like, 54 degrees in here, it's cold!” He said with a soft laugh.

I shrugged, god how I loved his laugh, so soft and sweet. I forced an answer, “Uh, yeah. Maybe I just need some fresh air outside..” I said, slowly standing up. I could feel his eyes follow me until I reached the front door, though it wouldn't budge. I pushed the door harder, though still, the door didn't open.

“The door is stuck,” I said, giving the door another push.

James stood, walking towards the door, standing closely behind me before gently moving me out of his way and to the side with his hands. I felt my skin burn where he touched, my face turning slightly red. He gave the door a push with all of his body weight, though still, the door wouldn't move.

James moved the curtain away from the window, seeing nothing but white snow. He scoffed in annoyance and surprise, “Seems like we're snowed in.” He stepped back, shrugging his shoulders.

I let out an annoyed groan. Now I truly was stuck in this home with him. The thought always excited me, as I would dream of getting time alone with him. But now that it's in fruition, I couldn't be more embarrassed and nervous. The snow most likely wouldn't be gone until tomorrow afternoon. How would I last with him?

He sighed, sitting down on the couch, and picking  up the blanket I had kicked onto the floor, “You gonna use it?” James asked, watching me as I walked towards him and sat down next to him again.

I shook my head, “Nope, go for it.” I said, keeping a respectable half-foot between us. As much as I’d love to snuggle up to him, I'm not sure if he would.

He laughed softly again, the sound making butterflies flutter in my stomach, “This blanket isn't too warm. How did you and Lars survive living here for more than a few days? It's like the Arctic here!” 

I gave a small laugh and shrugged at his comment, “I'm not sure, guess we just.. adapted.”

James smiled lightly, “I like your laugh, it's.. cute.” He admitted softly, causing me to feel like my face was on fire.

The butterflies were no longer fluttering, but fighting and dancing with each other to get out. I had to force myself to speak, or think. “Oh, uhm..” The words wouldn't come out, I felt like an idiot.

This moment felt like years and years, though it was thirty seconds. Though, James beat me to speak.

“I'm sorry, did I say something wrong? I didn't mean it like that if that's-” He said guiltily before I cut him off,

“No, no, sorry, just, spaced out again. Thank you.” My words were rushed and embarrassed. I still couldn't get over the compliment. It wasn't even a real compliment, just a comment on my laugh.

The room had an awkward, uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. I felt like I could start sweating, which I did. A small bead of sweat formed on my forehead, which I wiped away.

“Why are you sweating? It's cold in here.” James questioned me, which I shook my head in response to.

“No, I'm fine,” I mumbled out, fidgeting with my thumbs.

James nodded, “Alright, well, if you aren't, then I'll turn on the heater if you don't mind.” He said, already walking towards the heater.

I sighed, nodding and forcing a smile, maybe he didn't feel how I did about him, “Sure, go ahead.”

He pushed buttons on the thermostat, trying to get it to turn on, grumbling a few ‘cmons’ to himself as he tried to heat the cabin, which failed. He groaned in annoyance,

“The damn thing won't work! I'm gonna freeze to death in here!” He complained, which he seemed to do a lot of.

I was starting to cool down, even though my face was still slightly warm. Was I really that needy for him? Pathetic.

James sat back down on the couch, though leaving no gap like how I had. The heat of my face began to build again, only after a short break of peace. He stretched his arms out, his long, strong arms across the top of the couch, like how they did in cheesy rom-com. 

His fingers brushed my shoulder, making me tense slightly. He had to know what he was doing. As if he knew how I felt, he moved even closer, our legs now touching, even with his blanket on his legs. I glanced up at him, catching his gaze. Was he staring at me? I didn't know if I should say something, but holding eye contact like this, this close, just felt.. Weird. It was something I had only dreamed of, except my dreams were never this awkward.

“What's up?” I forced myself to ask, dying to break the awkward silence.

James shrugged, “Nothing, just..” He trailed off, his eyes still on mine.

I could feel a change in the air, no longer friendly, but now with a hint of something more. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of him, he was so captivating, and he couldn't let go of my eyes either. 

Eventually, I couldn't stand the tension, deciding that it'd be best if I started to get ready for bed. “Uhm, I'm gonna start getting ready and put on my pajamas,” I said softly, breaking my eyes away from his as I got up and walked towards the bathroom.

James nodded, “Alright.” He acknowledged, waiting for me to return as his eyes followed me until I vanished into the bathroom.

I stood in there, staring at the mirror. For once I felt the coldness James was talking about. Maybe it was the room, maybe it was the tension, or maybe it was how I felt for him truly bubbling to the surface. I've always had a massive crush on him, but we've only had maybe 4 conversations alone that had nothing to do with the band or Lars. 

I took a deep breath, quickly changing out of my sweatpants and t-shirt island into a tank top and shorts, which was not practical for weather like this, but it's what I had. I opened the door and stepped out into the living room. I was freezing and didn't see James, which confused me.

“In here,” James called out from Lars and his room. I spun around, walking down the short hallway and into the doorway, seeing him sitting on the bed in a shirt and sleep pants. I was shivering slightly, the cold air stinging my skin for the first time since the rest of the band had left. It was a relief, though I quickly got tired of the cold.

“Ya cold? You're shaking a bit.” James noticed, and I could feel his eyes raking over my now more revealed figure.

I was never one to wear smaller, skimpier clothes, so this was a sight few got to see, and I never expected James Hetfield, my crush of 3 years to see me like this. I still handt answered and a few seconds had passed. I shrugged with a nod, 

“Yeah, a bit,” I admitted, crossing my arms on my chest as I tried to rub my hands up and down my arms to warm myself up.

“Maybe I could. Warm you up a bit?” He asked, slightly hesitant. His eyes didn't meet mine, as they were too busy tracing my figure.

I froze a bit. There were so many ways to interpret that. A blanket? Warm drink? Cuddling? Making out? Or even-

“Like cuddling, or, if you don't want to it's fine.” He muttered, embarrassed that he even asked.

I nodded, a small blush creeping up on my cheeks, “Oh, uh, sure, yeah..” I agreed softly, walking towards him as he moved across the bed, lying down, and getting under the covers. I sat down on the bed, giving him a glance at the question, which he didn't answer, but I took it as a yes. I lay down next to him, moving closer, feeling his arms wrap around my waist, making my face burn up again. James pressed his chest against my back, I could feel every muscle of his against my back, my heart beating faster.

“You ok? You seem tense.” James questioned me, and he was right, I don't think I’ve ever been more nervous and excited at once.

“No, I'm fine,” I muttered. Though, he wanted to test that. It was almost like he knew that he was the source of the tension in my body. He moved closer, pressing himself against me, making me burn red in my cheeks, and my heart beat faster if that was even possible.

“Am I bothering you? I'm not that scary, I promise.” He teased me.

I tensed slightly at his teasing, how could I ever play this down? It was clear he knew what he was doing, and it was driving me crazy.

“No, I'm fine, James,” I muttered, my words rushed.

He chuckled softly at my reaction, leaning his face closer to the back of my neck, his warm breath causing goosebumps. It was getting harder to deny what he was doing was having a major effect on me. His lips ghosted the back of my neck, making me bite back a whine of need, feeling heat pool between my kegs.

As much as I had dreamt of this moment, god, it was torturous. 

After another minute of his teasing, I couldn't take any more of it. I rolled onto my side, now facing him, my eyes meeting his. He gave a sly smirk, which only seemed to irritate me. We stared at each other for what felt like years, though it was mere seconds. Slowly, I leaned into him, pressing a soft, gentle, and loving kiss to his lips, and he reciprocated. This was something I had only ever dreamed of. 

The kiss felt like hours, though it was brief. We pulled back from each other, our eyes meeting, a small smile on both of our lips.

“You aren't great at hiding your feelings, you know?” James teased me. I rolled my eyes,

“Oh shut up, James,” I mumbled against his lips before kissing him again, this time with more need and freedom.

He nipped at my bottom lip, asking for entrance which I allowed, and what was once an awkward night on the couch changed into a steamy makeout session in bed.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as he tangled his fingers in my hair.

The moment only grew more intense, a plethora of soft moans and groans escaping our lips. I had never felt so alive, so good.

We began to run out of breath, pulling away and gasping for breath. James pulled me on top of his, kissing him again. 

No words left our mouths, just filthy noises as we ravished each other's mouths. I straddled his hips with my legs, making him groan as I hovered above him. He pulled away from the kiss, staring up at me in awe,

“God, you're something else..” He mumbled, snaking his hands under my tanktop, pulling it over my head, exposing my breaths, my nipples hardening at the cold air, making me shiver slightly as goosebumps rose on my skin.

He groaned at the sigh, his hands reaching up to toy with them, making me moan softly, causing him to smirk, “You sound so pretty..” He murmured, squeezing them and pinching my nipples making me squeal.

I reached my hands down towards his shoulders, trailing my fingers down to the hem of his shirt, taking it off of him and seeing his sculpted body, making me blush at the sight. 

I had never imagined that this trip would lead to this, but I was loving every minute of it. 

My eyes roamed over his chest, taking in the sight I dreamed of. He noticed my staring, giving me a teasing grin,

“What? See something you like?” He teased me with that stupid grin. I rolled my eyes, moving off his lap so I could remove his pants, dragging them down his legs to reveal his hardness pressing against his boxers, making me smirk a little at the sight. 

I couldn't help but tease him a little, similar to how he did me, gently tracing the outline of it with my finger, making him groan at my touch, light as a feather. 

He adjusted, sitting up more, leaving me with better access as I snaked between his legs, continuing to toy with him, darting my tongue out, tracing along the fabric, earning me a much louder groan.

“You're cruel..” He groaned out, gripping my hair. I chuckled at his complaints and groans,

“You were doing the same thing to me just a bit ago..” I teased him back in response, which he wasn't pleased with, groaning again as he tightened the grip on my hair.

After a few more minutes of torturing him, milking him of his whines and groans before pulling away, admiring the wet spot now clearly evident on his boxers. I glanced up at him, wanting to make sure he wanted to do this.

“Are you sure?” I asked though I was praying full-heartedly that he'd say yes.

He nodded, “Fuck yes Im sure, hurry up..” He groaned, and I smiled, pulling down his boxers.

I gawked at the size, his cock standing proud and tall, and I could feel myself growing wetter at the sight alone.

I paused for a moment, staring down at his erection and back up at him. I had only had sex once or twice, and I was slightly unsure of what to do, which James took notice of.

“If you do not want to, that's fine, I don't wanna make you-” I quickly cut him off,

“No, this is something I've wanted forever, James. Just, I'm a bit nervous. I've only done things like this once or twice.” I admitted, embarrassed by my inexperience, especially in front of a guy who probably gets with groupies every night or so.

James nodded understandingly, sensing my fear. “That's fine, I'll guide you.” He assured me, and it helped a bit.

I nodded, sitting up and slipping out of my shorts, leaving both of us naked except for my panties. James couldn't take his eyes off me, reaching his hand out to the waistband before glancing up at me,

“Can I?” He asked gently, to which I nodded quickly, watching as the garment was discarded, James tossing it to the floor and his eyes raked over my fully exposed form, taking in every detail as if he was putting it to memory. I waited a moment before sitting back on him, straddling him, my hips hovering over his tip. 

I glanced at him again, not wanting to rush things. He nodded, giving me the final ok as I sank onto him, a loud moan escaping my throat as he groaned, filling me fully and instinctively reaching for my hips, which he gripped so tightly I was sure he'd leave bruises. I sat there a moment, still adjusting to his size, as he was much bigger than the other man I had been with, I didn't feel anything, at least emotionally, but now I did.

Slowly, he began to thrust his hips up, making me moan as I slowly matched his movements, riding him as he pumped himself deeper into me.

Each of his movements allowed filthy, obscene noises to escape my lips. He moved my mouth to my neck, kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh, stimulating me greatly, causing,e to whine and moan more.

James was breathing heavily on my neck, groaning with each thrust, “God, you're so beautiful.. So tight.. So pretty, all for me..” He groaned against my neck, slowly increasing his pace, and making me moan louder.

I needed to hold something, gripping his shoulders and digging my nails into his flesh, making him hiss through his teeth as he continued to pump into me.

I could feel myself growing tighter, clenching around him as I neared my release.

As if the pleasure couldn't grow anymore, he reached his thumb down and began to toy with my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure and need through me, making me moan louder as he continued to leave hickeys and bite marks all over my neck, marking me as his.

“You're doing so well.. Taking me so well.. You're so good..” He whispered praises to me in between his kisses, making me whine.

He continued all of his ministrations, rubbing my clit and sucking on my neck, pumping his cock deeper, faster, and harder into me, all overwhelming my senses.

“Fuck.. James, I.. I'm gonna..” I moaned out, feeling myself clench around him tighter as he groaned louder.

“Me too, baby.. Just let go..” He whispered to me, and with one final, harsh rub to my clit I came undone around him, moaning his name so loud that anyone nearby probably heard, but I didn't care. The man I've wanted for years just made me feel so good, and now he's mine, and I'm his.

He came at the same time, shooting his load deep into me, painting my insides white.

My hole continued to milk him of every last drop, pulsing around him until I could feel him soften, pulling his face away from my neck and resting my forehead against his.

“I love you, James. I have since we met..” I whispered to him, and he smiled softly in response.

“I love you too.” He murmured back to me, kissing me gently and the lips as I pulled off of him, laying down beside him as he stood up, “I’ll go get a towel to clean us up, ok?” He informed me, and I nodded with a smile.

He returned with a damp washcloth and a dry towel, carefully wiping up my most sensitive areas, not wanting to hurt me. 

After he finished, he laid back down next to me, wrapping his arms around me, whispering sweet nothings and praises to me as we slowly fell asleep.

“I love you.. You're so beautiful..” James mumbled to me softly before falling asleep, and I followed soon after.

In the morning

As the sun rose, the snow slowly began to melt, freeing the door of its lack of movement.

The rest of the guys had returned, having gotten so drunk they decided to stay at a different hotel for the night.

I woke up to the sound of the front door opening, too groggy and half asleep to get up and see who or what it was, moving closer to James’ hold, which he seemed to enjoy in his sleep. I glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings.

Our clothes were scattered on the floor that surrounded the bed, though I didn't pay it any mind, as no one would come in or care.

Though, it seems I had thought wring when Lars barged through the door.

“What the fuck happened here?” He yelled out at James and me. The sight was a messy one, the two of us cuddled up, limbs sprawled, hair messy, various hickies and marks on my neck, and with our clothes all over the floor didn't paint a good light.

I was quickly snapped out of my sleepy state, pulling the blanket over my chest as James began to wake up.

“Get out!” I shouted at my brother.

He had seen me with a guy one other time, but that guy wasn't his best friend or his bandmate. He didn't move for a moment, just shaking his head as James groaned, still waking up.

“..What..?” James asked, his voice groggy and full of sleep, rubbing his eyes as he took in the sight of Lars in the bed frame, the other guys not far behind him.

“Did you sleep with my sister?” Lars called back at James.

I could feel my face heating up, god how embarrassing this was.

“I said get out you dickhole!” I yelled back at Lars, who scoffed and shut the door.

James was still half asleep, looking at me, slightly confused, “What's going on..?” He asked me sleepily.

“Lars isn't happy that I fucked you,” I admitted, still really embarrassed about this.

James scoffed, “Whatever, I’ll talk to him.” He muttered, tossing his arm around me.

“What will you tell him? He seems to have quite the stick up his ass about this.” I complained, my eyes meeting his.

“That I love you.” He answered with a smile, kissing me gently on the lips.

[poisonlove]

lorraine smut? but lorraine is the one giving and is dominant

I try it :(

Shut up | Lorraine day

+18

Under the relentless Texas sun, each day on Uncle Howard's farm became a challenge. The high temperature turned every drop of sweat into a tribute to hard work, while the arid ground beneath my feet made every step a struggle against the toughness of the earth.

On that farm, under Uncle Howard's stern yet understanding gaze, I worked to earn a few bucks. It was my ticket to a different future, far from the arid plains of Texas. New York represented my ambition, the place where I hoped to forge my fortune. So, with sweat on my forehead as a constant companion, I toiled in the hope of one day crossing the horizon to new opportunities.

"How are you doing, y/n?" someone suddenly asks.

I stopped feeding the chickens, turning to see Uncle Howard looking at me seriously. "I'm done..." I reply with a small smile, tossing a handful of corn into the chicken coop.

"Good, because you need to plow the soil for the harvest," he quickly says before leaving the farm.

"I know, J." I glance at my horse, watching me with curiosity from its enclosure. "It's more acidic than usual," I sigh wearily.

I walk over to J, placing my hand on his mane, making him neigh with happiness. "See you later," I mumble distractedly before patting his back and moving away from the farm. The sun beats against my face, and I try to shield myself by raising a hand over my eyes. The heat of the day begins to make itself felt.

The abrupt noise of a vehicle stopping on the ground catches my attention. I turn slowly to see who has arrived, curious to discover what could disrupt the tranquility of the day on Uncle Howard's farm.

A red van appears in my field of vision, and with confusion, I see who's inside. A guy in a white shirt and a cowboy hat jumps out, smiling widely. I furrow my brows as I watch him help a girl down, offering her his hand. Four more guys emerge from the back of the van, their figures still unclear under the blinding sun. My curiosity grows, trying to discern who they are and what has brought them so suddenly to our farm.

"Hey! You!" I shout, determined to capture their attention.

The cowboy guy looks at me with confusion, but his open smile doesn't seem worried at all. "This is a private residence," I assert seriously, scrutinizing the others out of the corner of my eye.

"Calm down, beauty." The cowboy guy takes off his sunglasses, smiling even more. "I'm Wayne," he says, grinning. I raise an eyebrow, confused.

"I don't care who you are, just go away," I say venomously, noticing how one of his friends sizes me up and down.

"Calm down, sweetheart." A blonde approaches slowly, smiling seductively. "We rented this place," she adds, biting her lower lip with a seductive manner. "If you're interested, you can shoot some scenes with us," she timidly suggests.

"Scenes?" I look closely at the group, noticing a camera in the hands of a guy with glasses. The way they flirt... the realization makes me blush violently.

"Bobby, that doesn't seem appropriate," another female voice intervenes. My eyes scan with curiosity over the figure of a girl behind the guy with glasses. I am surprised to see a beautiful girl with brown eyes, a dazzling smile, and an innocent aura. She seemed almost embarrassed.

"Always the same party pooper," the blonde murmurs weakly.

"I'm R.J.," says the guy with glasses, embarrassed. "She's Lorraine, my girlfriend," he adds with a smile. I blink slightly, incredulous that such a charming girl is with RJ.

"I know, I had the same reaction," the other guy in the group, Jackson, intervenes, smiling genuinely.

"Maxine," says the girl next to the cowboy, smiling shyly.

My eyes linger on Lorraine, admiring her beauty with brown eyes and the innocent smile that seemed to contrast with the situation. Her presence, somehow, added a touch of mystery to the whole situation. The tension in the air thickens as I try to understand the reason for this unexpected intrusion into Uncle Howard's quiet farm.

My heart was pounding as I watched the scene. Howard arrives with a rifle in hand, a stern look aimed at RJ.

"What's going on here?" the old man asks venomously, keeping the rifle pointed at RJ.

"Hey, calm down." Wayne raises his hands and moves slowly toward my uncle. "I'm Wayne; we talked on the phone about renting this place," the guy says determinedly.

My uncle analyzes his words before lowering the rifle. "All right... then follow me," he says calmly. "Y/n, you keep doing your work and then go feed the cows," he adds, turning and walking away.

As the six friends follow my uncle, Lorraine turns and looks at me with curiosity, giving me a shy smile. The tension in the air dissipates, but her mysterious presence and attentive gaze leave an indelible mark on my ordinary day on the farm.

(…)

"Can you explain why you don't want to eat?" I ask with exasperation to the cow.

I was so exhausted that I desperately wanted to sleep, but Mrs. Cow here didn't want to eat. It might be something minor, I know, but if the cow doesn't eat tomorrow, we won't have milk, and my uncle will be angry.

"Please... can't you see how good it is?" I smile nervously as I shake a handful of hay in my hands. I sigh as Mary looks at me with boredom.

"You know... I think she's not hungry," someone intervenes playfully.

I turn towards the farm entrance and smile, seeing Lorraine walking towards my direction. There's something about her that irresistibly attracts me, and I don't know what it is – maybe it's the fact that she's extremely sexy and innocent at the same time.

"Oh... hi," my cheeks flush, and I lean against the fence of the pen. "Hi," Lorraine says with a small smile on her lips.

With the corner of my eye, I see the girl leaning next to me.

"And the others?" I ask curiously, and Lorraine lights a cigarette, pulling and inhaling the smoke with her eyes closed. "We've finished shooting; now they're either drinking or doing their thing... well, except for R.J.," she says indifferently, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"You know..." I start as I watch the other cows walking slowly, "I would have never thought that someone like you would do an adult film," I say embarrassedly, blushing faintly.

Lorraine looks at me with blushing cheeks and drops the cigarette to the ground, extinguishing it with the tip of her foot.

"I actually knew nothing... about these films," she begins with a low tone, smiling shyly. "And what do you mean by someone like you?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

I open my mouth trying to say something that isn't stupid, and Lorraine takes the hay from my hands.

"I mean... you have such an innocent aura..." I start embarrassingly. Lorraine smiles sweetly at the cow, which slowly approaches the fence, sniffing what she has in her hands. "Let's say you look like the perfect cover of a church girl," I say curiously as I watch Mary start chewing on the hay Lorraine gave her.

"Mary!" I say with a falsely mournful tone, and Lorraine chuckles softly.

"Anyway, I came to help my boyfriend R.J.," she says smiling at Mary. I raise my eyebrows at her comment. "I see," I say timidly.

"And anyway, I could handle shooting a scene," she says with confidence. "I didn't say that," I respond amused and move away from the fence. I put my hands in my jeans' pockets and walk near some hay, sitting on it.

"Because I've already done something with R.J.," she says, raising her chin with superiority. Lorraine follows suit and sits beside me, settling into the hay.

"You don't seem very satisfied," I notice, and I start playing with some hay, wanting to keep my fingers busy. "Let's say it's something that gives more pleasure to him than to me," Lorraine shrugs nonchalantly, and I look at her out of the corner of my eye.

"He's a nice person; he helped me settle into university..." Lorraine confesses, lying down in the hay, looking at the ceiling.

I follow her example and turn towards her direction, seeing how some strands of hair are mixed with the hay. Her eyes sparkle, and she looks at me with curiosity. "But you don't love him, right?" I finish her sentence, and she nods slowly.

"I don't want to hurt him..." she continues, and I remain silent at her response. "Anyway, I think you could find someone who can make you enjoy," I say absentmindedly, and Lorraine smiles sweetly, giving me a light push on the side. "And are you talking about yourself?" she says playfully, and I look at her without blinking.

Lorraine stops smiling, seeing my seriousness, and leans towards my face, making my heartbeat faster. "I need someone who can endure my desire," she says in a low voice, expressing her lust.

Her eyes lock with mine, and the sparks between us intensify.

Our lips meet with desire, a palpable tension in the air. I delicately entwine my fingers around her neck, gently pulling her towards me. Initially, Lorraine stiffens, but as seconds pass, I feel her hesitation melt away. Her lips, initially shy, respond to the mutual need, creating a fusion of intensely charged emotions. The kiss becomes a silent dialogue, a blend of desires and feelings expressed through the intimate touch of our mouths.

The brunette straddles my legs and leans towards my neck, kissing it with lust. "Raine..." I say with ragged breath, and the girl moves away to look at me attentively.

Her eyes are hooded, and her lips are semi-open due to heavy breathing, her hair tousled and infused with hay.

Without saying anything, I kiss Lorraine and take her hand, making her glide along my body, slipping it directly between my underwear. Lorraine sighs loudly against my mouth, feeling the moisture between my folds, and intensifies the kiss.

"Don't hold back..." I say breathlessly. "Quench this fire," I say, smiling widely. My mouth opens wide as I feel two fingers inside me, and I spread my legs instinctively. Lorraine settles between my legs and looks at me serenely. "You're really... wet," she murmurs with a husky voice, going deeper with her fingers.

I moan in response.

Lorraine bites into my neck and begins to penetrate me at her leisure, increasing and decreasing the speed according to her desires. "No... not like this," she says breathlessly, quickly pulling away from my body.

My eyes look at the girl with confusion before smiling, seeing how she takes off her panties with the dress. I sigh loudly seeing her curves, her small breasts compensated by the magnificence of her body, soft and smooth skin.

"Calm down" I say chuckling weakly, feeling Lorraine forcefully removing my pants, exposing my warm center.

"Shut up," she says agitatedly, "I'm so frustrated..." she mutters through her teeth. My eyes watch Lorraine's movements carefully, seeing her opening my legs and searching for a better position for both of us.

Both of us release a moan as our sensitive centers rub against each other, our fluids mixing as if they were one.

"To hell with everything..." she says weakly, sighing loudly as she starts moving her hips back and forth. My hands end up on the sides of her body; the nails scratch her back with every movement.

"Mmmh..." Lorraine moans loudly, increasing the speed of her hips. The moans become louder, and the sound of our bodies in symbiosis increases at the same pace. "Raine, I..." I mumble absentmindedly, closing my eyes for a moment.

The pleasure, placing a hand around my neck, "Look at me, damn it," she says through her teeth, moaning and moving faster and faster. "Raine, I..." I mumble almost crying for pleasure, and the brunette releases the grip on my neck, opening her mouth in ecstasy and letting herself be carried away by the orgasm she just reached.

The sight made me come forcefully.

Lorraine slumps against my body, trying to catch her breath. "Is that all?" I ask with a smile on my lips. "Is this the level of endurance?" I inquire with curiosity, and Lorraine licks her lips with mischief.

"Oh no, we've just begun," she says with a husky voice, and I smile nervously, concerned about her words.

[jadewolf22]

Some Peace and Quiet

Aura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, idiots in love, ect…

Summary: Just a quiet, peaceful night at home with your beloved Aura. 

A/n: This is my first time writing Aura… I hope I did her justice… And thanks to @milfsloverblog for giving me the little nudge I needed to write this. 

A/n: I know I have like 3 series that are still waiting on the next chapter, but I've seen so many requests for an Aura fanfic I knew there was no way I was going to be able to work on those again until I got this out there.

Word Count: 901

Quiet nights sitting around a fire with a cup of tea in hand had quickly become one of your favourite ways to end the day since you and Aura had taken up residence in the woods. The chirping crickets, crackling fire, and occasional hoot of an owl were like serotonin for the both of you, allowing you to relieve yourself of the stresses of the day while you nursed on warm tea. 

You sighed in content, leaning back against your chair and looking up at the stars as they shone through the treetops, branches shaking in the gentle breeze. A light snore drew your attention to your wife who’d fallen asleep not long ago, her empty mug dangling precariously from her fingertips. A quiet laugh escaped your lips as you smiled, finishing off the last of your tea before you stood, calling her name as you shook her shoulder.

“Aura, my star,” you cooed, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face as she stirred, “Come on. I think it’s time we head off to bed.” 

Aura groaned, watery-blue eyes fluttering open as her face morphed into a pout from having been woken. Even now, after almost thirty years together, your heart still skipped a beat everytime she looked you in the eyes. Though she no longer believed it, you found her as beautiful as the day you’d met. Sure her hair was now silver instead of blonde, and sure more age lines graced her face, but to you they were never flaws or imperfections, just simply new things for you to adore. You smirked, placing a kiss to the tip of her nose as you opened your arms to her, a silent request for her to stand—but she insisted on being stubborn. 

“Come on, Aura. Don't be petty. You’re tired and we both know it.”

“I am not!” she insisted, though the large yawn that followed quickly disproved her words. You crossed your arms, face forming into an I-told-you-so kind of look and Aura sighed. “Alright, alright. Fine.” she muttered using the armrests to help push herself out of the chair. 

Biting the inner corner of your lip to keep from cracking a victorious smile, you snaked your arm around her shoulders, pulling her against you as the two of you headed into the trailer. Taking Aura’s mug from her, you set about washing the dishes from dinner as Aura went to change and freshen up for the night. When you came to join her, Aura was seated on the edge of your bed, attempting to take a hairbrush through her ever-untamable mane of silver hair. You had to stop yourself from laughing when the brush snagged on yet another tangle and Aura let out a curse, pulling the brush away from her hair and tossing it down on the bed. 

“Why don’t you let me do that?” you offered, coming up behind her and resting your hands on her shoulders.

“Good luck.” she muttered, her tone both annoyed and clearly exhausted. The poor woman was going to collapse soon and you knew it. 

Gathering up your comb and her brush, you sat down behind her and set to work, picking away at the tangles with the comb before smoothing them out with the brush once you’d loosened them enough. This act had become a nightly ritual between the two of you since you’d moved out here and, even now, Aura still doubted your ability to detangle her hair when she couldn’t. She sighed with each tangle removed, wincing every now and again when your comb snagged on a particularly large one. Once you were finished, you stood, kissing the top of her head before putting away the brushes as she climbed into bed. Blowing out the candle that lit up the trailer—all save for the one on your nightstand—you crawled into bed beside Aura, wrapping your arm around her as she snuggled into your side. It was her favourite way to fall asleep, tucked up against you with your arm wrapped around her, humming as you played with her hair absentmindedly. And you loved it too, the way her body fit perfectly against yours, the faint traces of jasmine and sandalwood that clung to her hair and skin from the soap she used to bathe, even the way her warm breath tickled as it danced across your neck. 

“Good night, my star.” you whispered against her hair, breathing in her scent as if you would never get to do so again. 

Aura hummed, pressing herself impossibly closer to you, tucking her head into the crook of your neck and whispering against your skin, “Good night, Y/n.” You felt her press a kiss to your collar and, without another word, she was fast asleep, her breath slow and deep as a soft snore crept from her mouth every other minute. 

Chuckling quietly so as not to wake her, you twisted your upper body around carefully, blowing out the last candle before resuming your earlier position. Staring at her silhouette as moonlight crept in through the thin curtains covering your windows you breathed a final, “Sweet dreams… Aura.” before draping your other arm across her hip and allowing sleep to wash over you like a wave of warm water, falling asleep beside your love like you had so many times before, the both of you content and blissfully happy.

[mustainegf]

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 & 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁴

Mid December 1984, the snow was everywhere on the ground in a neat layer of white, the streets silent save for the crunch of snow beneath one's feet, the spontaneous buzz of a car passing by. Soft light from street lamps above warmed the snow, which made it glisten like a million small diamonds.

It was a faultless winter night, and I sat at the window of the living room, enraptured by the beauty of it all. In the glass reflected behind me now was my best friend, James Hetfield. He was also clothed in his most characteristic outfit, his pair of beat up sneakers and a leather jacket, but he added a white scarf to his ensemble today. I couldn't help myself, this guy looked adorable. The scarf suited him so out of character but in such a charming way.

"Hey," he said, very softly, breaking into the silence. "You want to take a little walk? Enjoy the snow a bit?"

I turned toward him, my heart did a little flutter. James wasn't much for things like this. "Really? You want to go on a walk with me?"

He grinned, his cheeks already pink. "Yeah, why not? I know you love the snow."

I took my coat and gloves, barely containing myself. "Okay, let's go then."

Stepping outside, I felt the cold air nip at my cheeks and ears, but that didn't matter. The crunch of the snow under our feet down the street was the only sound in the night's stillness. There were long shadows from the street lamps, and the world seemed all our own.

James walked beside me, his leather jacket doing little to keep out the cold, yet he seemed not to mind. He looked around him at the snow covered world. I couldn't stop catching glimpses at him, the way his breath showed up misty in the air, his frizzy blonde mane blowing just gently in the faint breeze.

"You're pretty cute in your winter getup," I said, nudging him playfully.

He chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah... Don't get used to it."

I smiled and I rubbed my hands together, trying to keep them warm, but the chill was starting to seep through my skin.

James noticed and reached out, taking my hand in his. The touch sent warmth shooting through me and up my fingertips, his fingers cold to the touch. "Here, let me help," he said, his cheeks flushing even a deeper scarlet.

My face flushed, my heart hammering away in my chest. "Thanks, James."

We walked hand in hand. It felt like a dream, too perfect, too real. Eventually, we came across a quiet field of snow. The snow lay undisturbed, a perfect canvas of white.

"Look at that," I said, my eyes wide. "It's beautiful."

James smiled, squeezing my hand gently. "Yeah... Yeah, it is."

A thought crossed my mind, and I just couldn't help a very naughty grin. "Let's make snow angels!"

He quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused with my playful request. "Snow angels? Really?"

"Come on, it'll be fun!" I tugged at his hand, pulling him toward the field.

He chuckled, letting me pull him along. "Alright, alright, snow angels it is."

I let go of his hand and moved to lie down in the thick, fluffy snow, but before I could, James tackled me playfully, sending us both tumbling into the snow. We rolled about, laughing and trying to push each other into the snow as white dust flung in the air around us, like frozen ocean waves.

"James, you're going to get us both soaked!" I squealed, trying to fend him off.

He just grinned. "That's the point!"

Eventually, we slowed down and became breathless from the heavy laughs as James finally let up on me. James ended up hovering above me, his face was just mere inches from mine. His warm breath warded off the cold skin, and for a second, everything seemed to pause. Freeze, if you will.

He went pink, smiling sheepishly as he reached forward with cold fingers to gently wipe some snow from my face. "You have snow on your face," he said softly. He was so bashful, it was adorable.

I giggled, my cheeks hot despite the cold. "Thanks."

Our eyes met, and whatever playfulness there was in the air changed to something much much softer. I felt that he was unsure, and I was too. Then before I overthought it, he leaned in and kissed me.

Our lips met for the very first time.

It was soft, full of what had not been said to each other, a passionate silence of many years. My heart flew out of my chest, and I felt weightless, he tasted so good, so sweet. When at last we pulled away, we both giggled, then rested our foreheads against each other's.

"I really like you," I said, hardly above a whisper.

James smiled, eyes soft and watery. "I really like you too."

We just lay there a second, staring into each other's eyes, before James shivered. "My ass is wet and cold. Let's go home and cuddle where it's warm."

I laughed at his adorable and blatant response, nodding in agreement. "Good idea."

We picked ourselves up and dusted our clothes off, still grinning like idiots. The house we shared with his bandmates was a short walk from here, so we walked hand in hand back toward that.

Warmth greeted us inside, much to our liking, and we sloughed our clothes right there on the floor beside the door, leaving our wet things in a heap. We dressed in comfy and most importantly, warm, clothes, my body adorning one of his baggy misfits shirts.

James grabbed a couple of blankets and led me to the couch. We huddled under the blankets, snuggling up next to each other. I could still feel the embers of his kiss on my lips, and his arms around me made me feel safer than ever before.

"This is... mm, nice," I murmured against his shoulder.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, satisfied.

We just sat there in silence, and I played back in my head what happened tonight. It felt very dreamlike, but the warmth of James's body let me know it was real. I couldn't believe I had him in my life, not just as my best friend, but as something more.

"James?" I said quietly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" he replied, his fingers gently running through my hair.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just... Thank you..."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

It was perfect, I wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world.

As I started to drift off to sleep, James brought me back with his voice. "Hey," he said softly.

"Yeah?" I replied back with half closed eyes and a slow heart.

"I love you."

My heart skipped, and I snuggled further into his chest. "I love you too, James."

He smiled, exhaling very slowly, as if he hadn't taken a breath for minutes. "Good night."

"Good night," I whispered, kissing his chest, the surface which I lay on.

I fell asleep, but I couldn't help but smile as I knew this was surely something beautiful.

[princessoflalaland]

synopsis: in which worick reassures he loves your small boobs

content: smut, dry humping, breast play

“She’s…not stacked?”

you glare at him. “no, she’s not, jackass. keep your dumbass comments to yourself, arcangelo.”

worick's stupid comment does not go over your head. he's made it a stupid habit to voice his thoughts about women; not derogatory, just honest (in his eyes). it’s not like he’s wrong though: your tits are small, not as impressive as alex's.

normally, it doesn’t bother you, but the comment is coming from someone you find remotely attractive, someone you've pining over for the past couple of weeks. so it stings a bit more than usual. worick curls his lips into that sexy, shit-eating grin he’s known for as you storm off after nicolas. he makes a silent promise to change your mindset on him and those cute tits of yours.

little do you know that feature, along with many other things about you, is what turns him on the most. so, in the moments when it’s just the two of you in the apartment, he has you straddling his lap. he kneads the small yet plush mounds on your chest, making you whine and writhe on his growing bulge.

he grinds his hips up into your clothed cunt, groaning around the nipple in his mouth. “such pretty, perky tits.” his faded blue eyes peer up at you, pools of lust that makes your stomach flip. “dunno why you’d get upset over them.”

you bite your lip and huff out a moan. “'m not upset about them. i’m upset over—” an involuntary whine interrupts you. worick pinched the nipple that isn’t in his mouth and let his teeth clam down gently on the one his mouth. heat and arousal pumps through you with every beat of your racing heart. “y-your words. that’s what upset m-mee..”

“aw, darling.”he coos, popping off your sensitive nipple. he pays attention to the next one, swiping his expert tongue over your areola. “didn’t mean to make you mad.”

he can’t get over the look on your face. your pleasure keeps you from fully contorting your beautiful face into an expression of anger. he rolls one of your sensitive buds between his fingers, eliciting another cry from you. “in case you can’t tell, i fuckin love your tits.” he sucks a dark mark onto your breast, his groans vibrating over your nerves. “they’re so cute. who needs giant tits when i got these, hm?”

your hips haven’t stopped gyrating over worick's jeans. the friction was delectable, and pairing that with his lips on your smooth skin, that was enough to get you closer to a desperate climax. through your pathetic noises, you say, “y-you mean that?”

“course i do, baby. your tits are perfect, made f’me to suck on till i cum in my pants.” his vulgar words make the wet patch on your panties damper. “love you and your lil tits, princess.”

your hips stutter as you cum through your favorite pair of panties. your fingers dig through his ash blonde mane, yanking at the locks as your walls spasms around nothing. his name is a breathless whisper on your lips, a sound that rings in his ears even after you’re done cumming.

worick watches your sclera fill your eyes as they disappear entirely into your skull, he revels in the way your body jerks ever so slightly from ecstasy. he can just about cum in his pants from the sight.

a thin trail of saliva connecting his lips to your breasts glints from the low light in the room. worick presses a tender kiss to each nipple then to your mouth.

“i’m sorry, y/n if i made you feel less than perfect.” his voice is raw with honesty, his eyes carefully focused on yours.

“if you want my forgiveness, you’ll make me cum again.” you always know exactly what to get out of this man that is utterly whipped for you.

his signature smirk makes a reappearance. “of course, princess.”

[scriberye]

LEMAN RUSS x F!READER ──────────⚠️ fluff

Got baby fever from @lemon-russ's baby pictures. Pabbi is the Icelandic version of 'dad'.

Leman stood in the center of the forest clearing, his eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of a threat. His children, his little wolf pack, roamed the area, picking flowers for their mother, and his instincts were on high alert.

The two oldest, Einar and Sigrún, were further away, picking their flowers with more care. They were already showing signs of his Primarch genes influencing their growth. Einar, a smaller version of his father, had the strength to rival the neophytes. Sigrún was just as tall and strong, carrying herself with the same grace and poise of her mother.

The youngest, Astrid, toddled around, safe in her father’s shadow. Though Leman was certain she could wrestle a wolf already if she pleased. She squatted down and yanked at the wildflowers with chubby little hands, pulling it from the ground, roots and all. Straightening up, she huffed and pushed bouncy blonde curls out of her face. Leman melted at the adorable sight.

“Pabbi!” called the middle child, Björn, wriggling with excitement and holding up a handful of buttercups for Leman to see. “Look at these, pabbi! They’re yellow!”

Leman crouched down to examine the flowers closely. “Ohh, how pretty! Your mother will love them.” He ruffled the child’s already wild mane of hair. Björn giggled, grinning from ear to ear, proudly displaying his two missing teeth.

“All right! Let’s head home!” Leman called out to Einar and Sigrún, the two obediently making their way back to their father.

Leman scooped Astrid up with ease, tucking her in the crook of his arm. He grabbed Björn with the other hand, swinging him up and onto his shoulder, chuckling at the boy’s laughter. With his little wolves gathered up, they began the trek back home.

You sat by the fire, enjoying the warmth, with a hand resting gently over your very round belly. The babe was due any day now. A commotion outside drew your attention. The doors flew open and Björn charged in, his little face flushed with excitement and the chill of being out in the snow.

“Mamma! We got you flowers!” Björn shouts, breathless as he sprinted over to you, presenting his bright yellow little buttercups.

“Oh, my! Look at how beautiful they are! Thank you, Björn,” you said, taking the flowers and inhaling the simple fragrance. You placed a gentle kiss on your energetic little boy’s forehead. For a moment, he squirmed in place, obviously wanting to stay at your side, but the call of toys was irresistible and he took off.

Leman smiled, gently placing Astrid down near you. The sight of you, so loved by him and the children, always warmed his hearts. Astrid waddled over to you, little hand holding out the mangled bouquet of wildflowers.

“Thank you, my little love,” you said, accepting her flowers. You shook out some of the dirt that still clung to the roots. Astrid babbled nonsense before trotting off to a pile of furs. She dropped into them, rolling around until she found a comfortable spot for a nap. Who knew flower-picking could be so exhausting?

Next was Einar. His collection of flowers nearly took your breath away. They all worked together in harmony, each color and shape complimenting each other. He clearly put a lot of thought and care into arranging them.

“Thank you, Einar. It’s beautiful.”

His cheeks turned red, and he quickly shuffled away, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘you’re welcome’.

Last was Sigrún, she stepped forward and rolled her eyes at Einar’s behavior. Her bouquet was just as impressive as Einar’s, and it impressed you how keen their eye for beauty was.

“Thank you, Sigrún,” you said, taking the flowers. “They’re wonderful.”

Sigrún ran her hand nervously over the long braid that hung over her shoulder. “I’m glad you like them, Mamma,” she said with a smile before slipping away to hide in her room.

Leman knelt beside you, his hand coming to rest over yours on your belly. “How are you feeling, my love?”

“Exhausted, but happy,” you answered, leaning over to kiss him sweetly. If the fire and furs couldn’t warm you, Leman’s kisses surely could. You reached up to stroke his jaw, and he leaned his forehead against yours.

“And where is your gift, my dear wolf king?”

Leman’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Where else? In my pants, of course.”

“Leman!”

[dodorimo]

to even the odds

The sight of her half-naked body, already flushed with arousal, awakened a torrent of emotions within him. Desire was one of them. Bitterness was another.

His mouse stole his treasures, leaving bereft of pride and hope. A light at the end of the tunnel comes in the form of his incubus and the new body they have added to their repertoire. Raphael/Named F!Dark Urge, Explicit, 2.2k

Tags: possessive behaviour, yandere, vaginal sex, knotting, he's disgusting but would you have him in any other way?

AO3 link

The moment the words left his lips, he felt a sense of uneasy nagging at the pit of his stomach. Stage fright, he reassured himself, afflicts even the most seasoned of performers.

“Change into her.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

Haarlep did not ask for clarification. Didn’t need to. The incubus knew as well as he did who he was referring to.

A brief moment elapsed. Beyond the silken  curtains, the ever-present audience held their breath.

There was a sound like a soft whoosh of air as Haarlep assumed her form, the long mane of her white-blonde hair cascading down their back. The sight of her half-naked body, already flushed with arousal, awakened a torrent of emotions within him. Desire was one of them. Bitterness was another. If breaking into his house and sleeping with his incubus wasn’t enough, the mouse decided to rid him of his much prized possessions in one fell swoop.

The sheer gall of her. He remembered finding a piece of parchment with a lipstick mark on it where her contract should have been. Still warm.

He kept it as a souvenir. Pile up your evidence, as he likes to say.

Oh, he will love to pry her forgiveness from her rouge-tinged lips. Make her beg. All in due time. For now, he would stay his hand and enjoy whatever prizes were left so kindly to him.

“Lie down on the bed,” he said. “And don't even think about touching yourself until I say so.”

A poor consolation prize, he added, as he watched Haarlep crawl into his bed, a decidedly not mouse-like grin on their face. But it’ll have to do.

Once Haarlep settled among the pillows, he climbed on top of them and kneeled between their legs, his own clothes magicked away in his—shameful, he admitted—haste. His greedy eyes ran down her body: her outspread legs, the generous curve of her breast, her alluring pout. Every inch a love letter, excessive in its beauty.

There would be plenty of time to gawk later. This was an act of chastisement, and he would do well to remember.

Slowly, he took a finger down her collarbone towards the valley of her breasts, savoring the little goosebumps that rose on her flesh. The poor excuse for undergarments that still covered her body, no more than a few lace-trimmed straps, melted like sand in an hourglass.

Haarlep wasn’t used to having their lover taking their time in bed, much less tending to their needs. The anticipation was getting to them. They pressed their thighs together and bit their lip until blood welled to the surface, eyes closed.

“Fuck me, master. Make me your whore,” the incubus finally gave in, hoping the blatant vulgarity would be enough to stir his loins.

Raphael’s fingers found the bridge of his nose and pinched, as if he heard a particular keening sound in an otherwise flawless composition. “Sweeter, much sweeter,” he instructed. “Remember, there is release in the act of giving in, but there is also shame.”

A look of fleeting confusion flashed through the incubus' eyes. The meaning of his words was lost on them. Haarlep knew only the invigoration that accompanied the sins of the flesh, and hardly anything else. The act was as new to them as it was to him.

Regardless of their personal judgment, it wasn’t in the incubus’ nature to shy away from a challenge, especially when the promise was such a sweet reward. They closed their eyes, as if reliving the time spent together joined at the hips with his mouse.

Raphael straightened his back, jaw clenched. That the wretch would know her so intimately when he had to contend with a facsimile. The idea alone was grounds for the harshest of punishments, and yet, there he stood with his pants around his knees and flaccid cock in hand. What a pitiful sight he must be.

There was a hint of trepidation in their voice when Haarlep finally spoke. “Take me, please…” they said, spreading their legs—her legs—for his perusal. “I long for you. Raphael.”

It was the low whisper of his name that did it for him, that sent a primal shiver coursing through his body. He could almost picture his little mouse beneath him, pretty lips open and hair fanned out on his silk pillows.

“Better, somehow...” He sighed and wrapped a hand around his cock—almost fully erect now—and pumped once, then twice, to take the edge off. To his immeasurable disappointment, it did very little to help him with that.

Raphael turned his attention to her body instead, fingers reaching out to test her smoothness, giving special care to the nub above her nether lips. Pink and glistening with her honey. Just as he imagined.

He rubbed at her with just the tip of his fingers, more to satisfy his curiosity than to offer any real pleasure. The incubus’ eagerness was evident in the way they writhed and moaned softly under him, clutching at the pillows. When he pulled back, she bucked her hips toward him, chasing his touch.

“So impatient. One might think you were looking forward to this.” He laughed, dipping his wet fingers into his mouth. “Tell me, dearest, have you thought about me? Late at night?”

"I… you've been on my mind more than once."

Ah, an impressive show of restraint. He ought to give Haarlep his compliments later.

“Here, mouse. Be a dear then and return the favour.”

He placed her hand—so small and delicate even in comparison to his glamoured body—around his cock. It reminded him he could assume a different form; a larger, more imposing form. But it’s not his wish to scare her just yet.

The feeling of her hand, stroking his length, thumb shyly grazing the head, was nothing less than divine. Only to be rivaled, he wagered, by the feeling of her pretty lips around his cock. But that delight he would save for another day.

“To think I could have been spared the trouble of trying to woo you.” He guided her hand up and down his cock, harder now, letting his anger dictate his words as well as the cadence of his movements. “No, wooing is for ladies and well-behaved girls. Not backstabbing little whores.”

Her curious hand strayed lower, then lower still, seeking entrance between his thighs. He stopped its descent before it could reach its desired destination.

He was many things. Kind, forgiving, charitable. Patient he was not.

Her velvety walls are what he desired. He wrapped one hand around her thigh to keep her open, the other finding purchase on the pillow beside her head.

As soon as he bottomed inside her, he let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, capturing a nipple into his mouth, drawing soothing circles on her skin.

“She feels you, master. Your possession.”

“She better,” he gritted out.

“And she loves it,” the incubus continued as if he hadn’t heard him, all too pleased to relay her thoughts to him. “She loves it more than she’s willing to admit.”

Of course she does, you thrice-damned wretch, he wanted to say. Why else would she have fooled around with his doppelgänger for? If her claws were as sharp as rumoured, she would’ve made short work of a lesser fiend the likes of Haarlep. And he knew how much those bhaalspawn craved their fill of blood. No, the mouse had no need to get on her back for measly morsels of information: her choice was one born out of lust. The memory of phantom fingers still burned hot on his skin.

The little vixen. Bane of his life. She could’ve come to him. She should’ve come to him.

“That’s a pity.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, each word punctuated with a hard thrust. “She isn’t supposed to.”

Oh, how exquisitely her moans resounded within the gilded walls of his boudoir! The last shiny piece of an already perfect image.

He’s not immune to her siren call—he leaned his head, tasting her lips and tongue, welcoming the coppery tang of blood as it entered his mouth.

The task distracted him enough that he didn’t realize he shed his human skin until later, as the fiendish side of him took over.

There she lay, small, helpless, her body jolting with each motion of his hips, breasts swaying. She may take the little vampling to bed in the morning, but she would open her legs for him every night. 

“Who owns you?” He struggled to get the words out, taking deep breaths to rein himself in.

“You, you godsdamned bastard. I belong to you…”

Raphael hummed in clear approval. His incubus knew he didn’t desire a meek caricature of his beloved mouse. Subdued, yes. Penitent, most definitely. But never meek.

He wasn’t going to last long. Not when she clenched around him like a fist, her lithe legs wrapped around his waist, pulling her to him. The finishing touch, then, before the round of applause.

The sudden swelling of his cock inside her had her squirming and arching her back off the bed. Rarely did he get in the mood to knot a partner, too much of a bother for him to consider. In his experience, he found the troubles far outweighed the benefits, but for her, he would make an exception.

Haarlep’s little mewls and pained gasps weren't all just for show. They never had him in this manner before.

“What is the matter, dear?” He relished in her pain, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s just more of me to love.”

Her walls grew tighter. Her body welcomed him.

“I’m going to spill my seed.” She couldn’t hear him but she could feel him. “Right inside you.” Those last words were whispered in her ear, as if confessing a deed of love.

She chose that moment to look at him, pretty blue eyes lined with tears and, for an instant, he saw himself reflected in those crystalline depths: strong, awe-inspiring, kingly. It was enough to tear his control to shreds, filling her to the brink with his molten essence.

“Eirin,” he faltered, peppering kisses along the column of her neck. “Beautiful. Mine.”

As he rode his high, the incubus feasted on his pleasure at will. Recklessly so. Drinking more than they were used to. He felt his strength seeping out of him just as another jolt ripped through his body.

Raphael let them be. He would not dare break the spell with the sound of his voice. Not now. Not when he felt so connected to her.

He held her close as another wave of his release swept over him. He felt her then. Clenching around him impossibly tight, head thrown back in pleasure. He knew at that moment that it wasn’t the incubus’ release he was witnessing, but rather the mouse’s, as it manifested through the bond between them. 

Unexpected, but intriguing all the same.

He flicked his finger against her pearl to aid her in her fall. Never let it be said that he was nothing but a diligent lover.

As she came down from her peak, Raphael gently stroked her stomach to help her take every last drop of him. Divine blood may run in her veins but it made no difference. Her fragile human physiology was not made to bear his passion. If she were to be his new plaything, and she will be, additional measures would have to be put into place. Not to mention, his heat would render any human contraceptive obsolete.

There's an allure to the idea, he can’t deny. He could easily leave her with child and she would be none the wiser.

Eirin, Eirin, Eirin.

Her father would place a tiara of rubies upon her head, a princess in all but name. Raphael liked to think she deserved something more.

He basked in her scent, ignoring the hint of sulphur, rubbing his cheek against hers like a lovesick paramour. He would build the greatest of cages for her soul. An opulent, lavish cage that would dwarf even his best work. Failure was out of the question.

She would come to accept him, in time. Come to love him, even. Hope fared just fine.

Love.

When it came to the matters of the heart, he was a fierce admirer. But the very notion was dangerous. Like taking a wrong turn in a dark alleyway. Too many eyes and many ears, behind every door. Nothing good could come out of this affair, not for him and definitely not for her. His kind did not tolerate weaknesses, whatever form it took. And what need did he have for her love? All he needed was her submission. He required nothing else. Wished for nothing else.

But must the curtains fall in the end, and he could feel himself beginning to soften inside her.

It always ended the same way. The euphoria, the fervour and the feeling of walking among clouds. Gone too soon.

He pulled back an inch, just enough to balance his weight on his hand. A mistake, he quickly realized, as he was greeted with the sight of her cunt dripping with his seed. His incubus pleaded for him still, deep in the throes of their own passion.

So easily stirred, the appetites of men.

The play needed not end now, after all.

The raptured crowd begged for an encore. And he was ever so eager to abide.

[corruptedcaps]

The Plan

Ok, so let's go over the plan. We will use this machine that you made to steal one of Britney's attributes, something like her manicured nails. This will hopefully make her less mean. I mean, have you seen how she acts? It's like she's always looking down on everyone. And her nails are always so perfect, like she thinks she's better than everyone else. Well, not anymore! Once we take away her manicured nails, maybe she'll realize that she's not so special after all. Plus, it'll be a little payback for all the times she's made fun of us. Just imagine her reaction when she sees her nails disappear! It's going to be priceless.

Oh my gosh, can you believe it? Britney is still just as mean! She went back to the nail salon and got her nails done again. Ugh! It's like she never learned her lesson. But hey, on the bright side, I received her stolen nails, and I must say, I love how they look on me. They make me feel powerful, like I have a piece of her confidence. Anyway, we can't stop here. We need to take something more permanent from her. How about her 20/20 vision? Imagine how lost she'll be without it. Let's make her see the world in a whole new way, or rather, a blurry way. It's time for revenge!

Oh, come on! This is ridiculous! Now Britney has become even more stylish because she has to wear glasses. And what's worse is that everyone wants to wear glasses just to mimic her! It's like she can turn anything into a fashion statement. But hey, ironically, I don't have to wear glasses because I received Britney's good eyesight. Talk about a twist of fate. Well, enough is enough. It's time to hit her where it hurts the most—her beauty. Let's start by taking away her precious tan. Without her golden glow, she won't be able to rely on her looks anymore. Revenge is sweeter than a suntan!

Finally, we're starting to see some results. Britney seems to be less confident and less mean. It's like a small crack in her queen bee facade, but hey, it's a start. Maybe taking away her attributes is actually working. As for me, I can't help but admire my new tan, courtesy of Britney. It's absolutely flawless! I mean, look at how radiant and sun-kissed my skin is. I almost feel bad for taking pleasure in it, but hey, she had it coming. Now let's keep going. We need to strip her of more of her beauty and watch her crumble. Revenge never felt so satisfying.

Hey, quick question. How does my new blonde hair look? Wait, don't even answer. I already know it looks absolutely gorgeous! I can't help but feel amazing with this luscious, golden mane. And guess what? Britney now has dull brown hair as a result. Talk about a style downgrade for her. It's just another blow to her once-perfect image. I can't wait to see the look on her face when she realizes what she's lost. But hey, enough about her. Let's keep going. We have more of her beauty to take away, and I'm loving every minute of it.

I have to say, I absolutely love my new boobs. Thanks, Britney! They make me feel so sexy and superior. But you know what's interesting? Despite all the physical downgrades we've inflicted upon her, Britney is still mean and cruel. It's like her personality is untouched by our efforts. Maybe we've been focusing on the wrong things. Perhaps it's time to go straight to the source and take away her mean, haughty attitude. That's what we should have done from the start. Let's strip her of that toxic demeanor and finally bring her down a peg or two.

You know what? I've had a revelation. I've absorbed Britney's delicious toxic personality, and guess what? I've become the new queen bee. And let me tell you, it feels incredible. I revel in the power, the control, the superiority. Change back? Why would I ever want to change back? You, my oldest and ugliest friend, suggesting such a thing, clearly are jealous. You want all this for yourself. Well too bad because I’ve destroyed the machine because I'm here to stay. You can either bow down or step aside, because I'm the new alpha now. Now I’m off to steal something the machine never could, Britney’s boyfriend. It’s good being the queen.

[neonfretra]

continuation of my philipp grubauer as a horse design :3 the whole gangs here!

layers+design notes below the cut!

they are all wearing horse armor, which is incredibly funny because WHO is fitting they sheep for war

disclaimer: i dont know nothing about horse armor actually, i am heavily referencing image searches and these are aesthetic over function

to defeat the whole function of horse armor, they continue to not be able to seat a rider because HAHAHA chris barely reaches the tops of joey and grubis legs in this FORGET supporting a riders weight

the shoulder guards (a modified version of the peytral) and hip guards (the crupper) use the pattern of their blockers and pads. people were NOT joking, they sure are white across the board

the plate in front of their neck (which is the OTHER part of the modified peytral) is intended to mimic neck guards on goalie helmets. funny enough only grubi actually wears one!

the designs on said plates are the franchise logo (center) and the shoulder designs (flanking on both sides of logo) for their team!

the face plate (the chanfron) has a metal gilding on the front to mimic the cat eye cage design! there is plating underneath because a cage is NOT enough armor

still on the chanfron, the sides are extended down the face as decoration, with tentacles (chris and grubi) or wings (joey)

also decorative are loops that go around chris and joeys horns, which are, again tentacles (joey) or wings (chris)

LAST POINT ON THE CHANFRON! the colors and patterns are from their helmets but incredibly simplified because i am not accurately recreating them. they got city skylines on those man

both joey and grubi have cloth underlayers to look like jerseys

joey is in firebird visiting colors

grubi is in kraken home colors

dreidger doesnt have an underlayer because i think the wool is a sufficient barrier against friction LOL

chris is a whiteface sheep with black wool because of this post comparing driedger to a sacrificial lamb by seattlekrakenyaoi and the kraken as jellycats post by scoringchance

another name for whiteface sheep is penistone sheep. im sure well be very mature bout this one ^_^

joey is a luing cow with a curly brown coat because everyone says he has beautiful brown cow eyes

i prefered luing cows over the more popular highlander cows (the fluffy cow, also crossbred with shorthorn cows to make said luing cows) for the texture of their coat LOL

chris and joey both have netting wrapped around their horns, joeys draped between his to resemble the net

grubi is a dappled gray draft horse with a blonde mane

the horse

[scarlet2007]

⊹ ₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ To tame a mermaid's heart₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Yandere! Adult trio x Mermaid! Reader. (Chrollo x reader in this chapter).

Side pairing: Illumi x Hisoka.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: After being kidnapped by Chrollo, a certain clown and assassin took an interest in her as her childhood friend, Kurapika Kurta, tried to free her from the clutches of those monsters. But perhaps, Kurapika has become one too.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Chapter: 1 of the miniseries.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Yandere theme, Kidnapping and human/mermaid trafficking, drugs and overall, horror themes, oh! And i named the reader "Maki".

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 1.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Requested by: @animerules898

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

The auction light burned her vision, making her cover her eyes as soon as the curtains were opened, the people letting out a gasp as they stared at the scene infront of them. Rumors has it that a mermaid was being auctioned off at the mafia auction this year, and from the looks of it, it looks like the rumours were true as they all watched her blink in confusion, her tail shining brightly as the light from the auction hall hit it, making the vibrant colours appears more mesmerizing.

They all stared at her, listening to the host intensely as everyone wanted the mermaid to themselves. After all, mermaids are rare, and if you managed to make one transform, it can provide great and powerful offsprings.

She looked confused at first before the situation finally dawn upon her as she tried to look for a way to escape, but being enclosed in a tank didn't help her case. As she looked at the crowd and the host in panic, the crowd started to bet more and more, competing against each other to buy her. She was beautiful, as all mermaids are, but what made her more desirable was how innocent and helpless she looked, which just fueled the desires of the people in the auction house more, with one common thought, 'I can't wait to break her.'

After almost half an hour later, she was auctioned off, and in her frantic state, she didn't look at who brought her as a lady started to push her tank towards the storage.

"Kortopi, are you going to make a copy of her too?" The lady that took her to the storage room asked, glancing at a strange man. He had a thick and messy mane of grey hair covering his entire head and obscuring everything except for his left eye. He also had a small mouth and round head. He wore a light blue tunic, light blue pants beneath it, and black shoes.

Kortopi nodded as the lady pushed her tank towards him, as another girl, seemingly called 'Shizuku' as the lady referred to her as, looked at the mermaid with great interest.

The mermaid shifted uncomfortably in the tank, trying to make herself as small and as far away from the top of the tank as she could as a man with blonde hair and black eyes tried to pull her out of it. He looked fairly tall and muscular. His most distinguishing features where his piercing eyes and lack of eyebrows, making the mermaid almost giggle before she remembered where she was.

Suddenly, she was pulled out of the tank in an blink of an eye, by a string as a girl with pink hair rolled her eyes. The mermaid, shocked at what just happened, laid on the ground for a few seconds before looking straight at the girl with pink hair. The mermaid's hair were wet, and so was her whole body as she pant heavily, finding it a bit difficult to breath as her atmosphere suddenly changed.

"Machi, be gentle! Leader told us to bring her without any bruises or cuts!" A man with blond hair and bright green eyes wearing a lavender outfit, exclamated.

"She wasn't going to come out on her own, Shalnark." Someone said as the mermaid was too busy being dragged towards Kortopi, struggling on her way as Phinks tried to keep her to stay still. The mermaid whimpered, feeling distressed at the whole overdeal as she flinched as Kortopi put his hand on top of her head, focusing on greating a copy of her with his fake gallery.

The mermaid watched in the mixture of fear and curiosity as her exact replica was created besides her, the only think that made her unique from her replica was that her replica didn't feel as lively as she did, making the replica almost look like a doll.

"Kortopi, why does the replica look... A bit different from the mermaid?" Shizuku asked, staring intensely at the replica and the mermaid infront of her. Phinks agreed before Kortopi began to explain.

"Mermaids can not be replicated fully, it's one of the things that make them so unique and rare." The mermaid nodded along in almost a child-like manner as she glanced at Kortopi.

Suddenly, the mermaid felt pain in her neck before her eyes were blindfolded as she began to loss conciousness.

"Good thing they are vulnerable to all type of drugs then." Was the last thing she heard before she lost her conciousness.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

The mermaid woke up in a tank, in the middle of a room inside of an abandoned building.

The mermaid groaned, bubbles forming from the action as she looked around before spotting a figure sitting nearby, reading what looked like a Bible. He had slick black hair that were pulled back, wearing a fluffy jacket without anything underneath with a weird tattoo on his forehead. The mermaid stared at him in silence, fear slowly creeping in the longer she stared at the man who was calmly reading the book with the help of the light generated by a candle.

The mermaid flinched as the man shut off his book, turning around to made eye contact with her.

"You're awake." He smiled as he approached her, making the poor mermaid swim as far back as the tank would allow to keep her distance from the man.

"Shhh, don't be, scared, love, you are mine, now. You shouldn't be scared." The man whispered as he stared at her.

There was something unsettling in his gaze, something more unsettling at the way he talked, making the mermaid fear him more.

The mermaid squeaked in fear as he grabbed her arm, pulling her out of her water tank as he pulled her towards his chest, sliding an arm underneath her tail to support it as he nuzzled against her neck.

"Mine... You don't know how long I have waited to get my hands on you, Maki." The mermaid froze in fear, 'Maki', no one knew her name, except her clan members and the members of the Kurta clan, even the people that were auctioning her off didn't knew her name.

Maki gulped in fear, as she glanced at his face, his gentle smile and calm demeanor making her question her own fear.

Why is he so calm? Why was she freaking out when he had been nothing but nice to her? Who was he?

Maki shook her head gently, trying to focus on the situation more and not on her thoughts as she finally spoke after months.

"How... Do you know my name..?" She asked quietly, her voice hoarse from not being used from months.

"Oh, Maki... I know everything about you."

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Author's note: Okay, so... This is my first ever mini-series, so I am kind of excited to see how it will turn out! I really love the whole idea so thanks to @animerules898 for the great idea! If anyone wants to be tagged in the future chapters, then feel free to send me an ask for it! Also, my mid terms are starting from 11th September so I might be a bit slow but I will try my best to be active! Thank you!

Oh, and requests are open but please be patient with them! Have a great day!

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦���︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

[call-sign-shark]

I love your stories! Could you please write some more father figure mav and platonic dagger squad? Xx

awwww thank you so much anon, this one is for you! Me love cute platonic fluff, it's just so heartwarming ;w;

✨ Ohana Means Family ✨

Summary: During a movie night, the Dagger Squad fights over which movie to watch. While observing them, you realize that you, who never had a family, finally found one.

Words: 1k

Tags: PURE FLUFF, Platonic love, family fluff, DadMav and his Dagger kids // reader super close to Hangman

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“But I don’t want to watch a horror movie!” Hangman complains, crossing his arms on his muscular chest. Bob lowers his head, disappointed. 

“You never listen to any of my suggestions anyway.” He says with a little voice, readjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Bob, you ALWAYS suggest horror movies. Last month we did a Saw marathon. And you were the only one enjoying it. Payback almost fainted.”  

“That’s not true! I was just… Just tired!” Payback retorts from below. He is sitting on the floor, holding the bowl of popcorn between his legs. He has already eaten half of it, even if the movie had not started yet.

“What about a Disney?” Phoenix suggests.

“To hell with Disney, it’s been two weeks we only watch Disney movies.” 

“Come on, everyone likes them.”

“The problem is not the movies themselves. It’s Rooster constantly singing the songs during and after the movies.”  Hangman rolls his eyes,    laying on the sofa with his head on your lap and his legs on Coyote's.

“Fuck you, Jake. At least I don’t choose spaghetti westerns.” Rooster growls, also sitting on the floor. He is braiding Shark’s long blonde mane with surprising patience. 

At one point you stop listening to the argument. When a dagger suggests a movie, another one immediately complains. This is a vicious circle. Yet, your Y/EC eyes carefully observe everyone while your hand absentmindedly pets Hangman’s blonde hair. He had just closed his eyes, almost purring at your touch. Sometimes he winces when he hears a movie title he does not like. 

“Star Trek?”

A pillow flies across the room and hits Fanboy right in the face. The WSO shakes his head, looks dagger at Shark, and throws it back. You don't need to listen to the conversation: you know he probably suggested the old Stark Trek movies. After all, that is why you all call him Fanboy. The pillow flies again yet Rooster and Shark slightly tilt on the same side simultaneously, avoiding the pillow. 

“And what about a musical?” 

Judging by the storm of protests, Coyote understands that his tastes in movies are far from winning unanimous support.  You cannot help but smile, your fingers still massaging Hangman’s head. A faint and amused smirk appears on your beautiful lips: It is the same hilarious struggle each night. The Daggers would reunite in the living room and fight over the movie to watch, while Maverick would prepare snacks in the kitchen. Popcorn, nachos with guacamole and cheese, and fresh beers.

You suddenly feel a cold and wet muzzle sniffing your free hand. You take a quick look at your left side, only to see Crashtest’s big face looking at you with his shining beady eyes. His large mouth is open, tongue hanging. You chuckle when looking at the dog and finally run your free hand through the pale fur of his neck. Here you are, forced to pet both Hangman and Crashtest.

Crashtest is a big beige American Pitbull whose owner is Shark, but he quickly becomes the family’s dog. She called him so because, when he was a puppy, he would run everywhere and bump against the walls.

A soft sigh escapes from your lips as you realize that you have found a family.  A broken, small, and weird family… But a true one.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” Mav’s voice echoes in the living room and snatches you from your thoughts. He obviously knows that no one managed to reach agreement. He lays the plates on the table and raises an eyebrow while looking at the young pilots scattered in the room, “Are you serious? Alright. Since you can’t decide…” He pauses and his emerald eyes fall on you, “Y/CS? What do you want to watch? You have the last word.” 

Surprised, you look at Mav, then at the Dagger Squad, and then at Mav again. To be true he had caught you off guard. 

“So?” Hangman asks. He had just reopened his eyes and is now looking at you with an adorable yet slightly cocky grin, his head still comfortably resting on your lap. 

“Lilo and Stitch.” You say out of nowhere, suggesting the first movie that had crossed your mind at this moment. “I want to watch Lilo and Stich.”   You repeat, and this time you are delighted with your choice. It seems like a perfect movie for your adoptive family.

“YESSS!” Phoenix and Rooster exclaim. The dog barks happily, wanting to join the party. Surprisingly enough, everyone kind of agrees with you. Even Hangman, who has complained about Disney movies twenty minutes ago.

“Lilo and Stich.” Mav concludes, visibly satisfied with your decision, before letting his body fall on the huge L-shapes sofa he had bought to welcome all his kids at home. Doing so, he forces Hangman to move in order to avoid getting crushed by him. The blonde pilot growls and, sitting next to you, wraps his muscular arm around your shoulders. The feeling of his warm skin against yours is soothing. With butterflies in your stomach, you snuggle against him. You and Hangman have been closer these past few weeks since you saved his life during a mission. 

As Maverick grabs the remote and scrolls to find the movie, all the daggers join him, Hangman, and you on the couch no matter if they have to snuggle against each other to all fit. Lilo and Stitch’ s intro starts and fills the room with the sweet melody of He Mele No Lilo. Before focusing on the movie, you take a quick look across the room.

Phoenix’s head rests on Bob’s shoulder.

Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy are nudging each other, trying to hold their laugh.

Rooster keeps playing with one of Shark’s braids while her hand gently strokes Mav’s thigh. 

As for you, Hangman keeps you in his arms. Hugging you as if his own life depends on it. His sweet and masculine fragrance tingles your nostrils. 

Another bark: Crashtest climbs on the couch and the gentle brute rests his head on your lap. 

A soft smile stretches your lips. 

They are your Ohana.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Truth be told, Jack doesn’t remember the eight seconds he spent on the bronco’s back.

If any moon-eyed fangirls come up to him and ask about it, he plans on giving the standard blanket responses, like all he heard was the roar of the crowd.

In actuality, all he has are fragments from right before the livestock hands pulled that gate. It’s hard to forget that kind of anticipation racing through his veins, the sawing sound of rope pinning his riding glove to the back of the horse as Jack grit his teeth, ordering Racer to pull it even tighter.

Everything else, like the sickening crack from his head slamming against Midnight Train’s spine that made the audience cringe in horror, was told to him second hand. 

The trainer who checked him out gave him a lot of medical jargon he wasn’t too familiar with, but Jack gathered the important stuff. No riding for three days, get plenty of rest, neither of which he has any intention of following. And of course, there was the whole spiel about concussions affecting memory.

Imprinted in his is the face of one of the pick-up men as Jack faded in and out of consciousness, stern and cool and steady. He can nearly still feel strong arms around him, keeping him from falling into the dirt of the arena, can still hear the New York accent reassuringly mutter, “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

So if Jack can’t stop thinking of the pick-up man who hauled his limp body from the horse into his lap, he’s chalking it up to brain damage. 

He’s been named Rookie of The Year for Bareback Riding—Jack Kelly can’t afford to be distracted by any potential flings. 

And still, every time he blinks, that face is waiting for him just behind his eyelids.

It’s the longest, most agonizing twenty-four hours before an opportunity to make a bad decision presents itself to Jack. He usually doesn’t make it that long. He also usually doesn’t go that long without visiting Dancer, but his body needed to recover after being thrown off that horse in the arena. 

The first thing that greets Jack when he enters the stables is the very same face that’s been stuck in his mind since yesterday. The pick-up man is reaching up, brushing the soft golden mane of the quarter horse that pulled Jack off the bronco.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he greets, drawing up his most charming first-impressions smile.

“In the stables?” asks the pick-up man. Not an ounce of his attention dedicated to brushing his horse’s long blond mane is redirected to Jack. “Pretty sure this is the least fancy place to meet someone.”

“It’s as good a place as any to thank you. For yesterday.”

“I assume you mean when you got your ass bucked off of Midnight Train and I dragged you out?”

Jack scoffs. He should probably be accosted, but he’s only more intrigued. “That would be correct,” he admits.

“No need to thank me, in that case. Just doing my job.”

“Be nice if I had a name to the face that saved my rawhide.”

“And it’d be nice if you checked your staff sheet maybe once before you rode.”

Jack blinks. “Pardon me,” he begins, leaning an elbow up against Dancer’s stable, “but have I offended you?”

“Not yet.” His head twitches in annoyance. “But you’re a rodeo man. You’re bound to eventually.”

Jack crosses his arms. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

The pick-up man pauses and sighs, finally rewarding Jack with a look in his direction. He pretends not to, but Jack catches the way his eyes quickly scan him up and down. “David. David Jacobs. Which you’d have known if you’d check your staff sheet. You haven’t even bothered to give me your name, because you assume everyone already knows it.”

“So you’re saying you haven’t heard of me.”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about you, Jack Kelly,” David answers, turning his attention back to the silky mane he’d been brushing.

Jack looks up at the horse in question—a beautiful quarter with an unusual coloring halfway between brown and straight up golden. He steals another glance at David, head turned up in an admiration that’s reserved for the sacred bond between man and horse, as ridiculous as Jack admits that sounds.

Still, it’s quite the sight. David is quite the sight, beams of the setting sun reflecting off his green eyes, the shadows accentuating the perfect combination of curves and angles on his face.

 “Gorgeous,” Jack finds himself muttering.

“Thanks,” David replies, completely missing where Jack’s compliment was directed. “Shimmer’s my pride and joy. If you should be thanking anyone, it’s her. She’s a bit of a social butterfly. Even broncs love her.” He turns his gaze to Which one’s yours?”

“The skittery one right next door.” Jack points out the appaloosa horse, Dancer, aptly named for the way she fidgets her feet when she’s excited.

David snorts. “Figures. Shimmer’s obsessed with her. I always catch them talking to each other ‘cross the stables.”

“Funny. I’m obsessed with you.”

David rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should be obsessed with brushing up your technique, and you won’t get your ass handed to you so often.”

“Ass handed to me? I made it to eight seconds.” He also ranked fourth in the semifinals. As a rookie. But he won’t bring that up right now.

“It’s going to take a lot more than eight seconds to impress me.”

“Let me take you out to dinner then, darlin’. Show you that I can go all night.”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

Jack shrugs. “To be completely honest, I think I’m downright adorable, but that’s besides the point.”

He thinks he might see David’s mouth twitch when he returns his attention to Jack. “I don’t sleep with cowboys. Kind of a rule of mine.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, you spend a night with me and we won’t be doing any sleeping.” He chances hooking a finger under David’s chin and dragging his mouth dangerously close to his ear. It’s entirely too brazen and forward, but Jack doesn’t know any other way to be. “You think Broncos are the only thing I know how to ride?” he asks, grinning when he hears David swallow around a drying throat.

“You couldn’t keep me saddled if you tried,” David mutters back, and his breath against Jack’s cheek sends a shudder from his ear, through his spine, all the way down to his toes.

And then David shoves him. Hard. Sending Jack toppling over his own feet and sprawling out onto the ground with an incredible lack of grace.

“Like I said,” David calls back as he opens the gate to Shimmer’s stable and saddles her up. “Technique could use some fixing.”

The click of horse hooves trotting against cobblestone fading into the distance, Jack decides he’s unequivocally in love with David Jacobs.

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Becoming a tribute alongside Glimmer

Request: Yes or No

First work of 2024!

~~~

When Scoria Spring's name had been plucked from the bowl of names, Glimmer's hand had been first to shoot up into the air, her lips breaking out into a wide, satisfied grin when District 1's escort, Brioche Wellbreeze, pointed her out amongst the other many female volunteers. Her blonde waves bounced against her shoulders as she headed up the steps and onto the stage, spinning on her heel to greet her classmates and friends with that familiar Glimmer smile. She'd been training all her life for this very moment, for the opportunity to win the Hunger Games and bring more glory to District 1. 

Her eyes scanned the crowd of teenagers and children below, sending a smug yet fleeting smirk in Scoria's direction. Scoria wasn't meant for the spotlight anyway, not with her thin-as-paper lips, her awkwardly lanky figure or the thick mane-like hair she forced into a ponytail each day. No, the spotlight had been created for people like Glimmer. For people who'd grown up being called beautiful, for people who knew how to have others eating out of their hands with just a smile and wink, for those who could actually hit their targets during practice. Someone like Scoria would only make District 1 the laughingstock of this year. 

Brioche reached into the bowl again, rummaging her hand around the slips until she pinched one with her fingers and tugged it out from the bottom. Her bright aqua-colored lips pulled into a smile and she stepped up to the mic, clearing her throat and finally looking down at the name on the paper. "Marvel Thorneworth." She announced. Glimmer recognized the name immediately. How could she not when his brother-

"I volunteer!" The familiar voice startled her enough for the smile on her glossy pink lips to falter, just for a split second before she noticed her expression on the screen and forced another smile on her face. Shit. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. She was supposed to go to the Capitol and win the Hunger Games so that he would realize how much better than everyone else she was. He wasn't supposed to be her competition, no, he was supposed to be her future. 

Glimmer's stomach withered when Brioche lifted her finger in his direction despite the number of other arms raised and voices shouting, begging to be picked. (Y/N) forced his way through the crowd and Glimmer squeezed her hands together, eyes following him when he made his way up the stage and stood beside Brioche. Where had the boy who'd always mumbled and grumbled about his distaste for the games gone? She craned her neck slightly to peek around Brioche and searched his face until he finally lifted his head, the grimace on his face speaking volumes. Shit.

"May the odds be ever in your favor!"