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#so i don't have to craft as much walls
weirdcharacter · 2 years
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I'm so happy, my house is coming together nicely and I'm also working on the dino-park, hopefully I'll be done with the first step by next week or in two weeks time 🤗
#I'm working on my first floor#and i realised all of my walls are in the wrong direction#the outside is inside which means i cannot hang anything on the walls#so I'll try to change that for the future floors and i will also try to change that just for the room part#so i can hang a painting above my bed hehehe#also i decided to change where my bed is i want to do a mezzanine#and what else#ho yeah the dino park#I'm soon done with the 'land' part of it#then i will have to do the part that cuts accross water#so they won't swim away lol#but it's not the final version hence the 'first step'#i just want them to have an enclosure big enough for movement for now#but i plan on closing the whoke little lagon#and i have the advantage of natural land and rocks that i can use as natural barriers#so i don't have to craft as much walls#speaking of walls they are made of wood for now but later on I'll try to change them for stone so they are more resistant#so yeah#a lot of things planned!#and i also want to build a base in the redwoods i already have a ground 'house' which really is just a foundation and a few walls#doesn't even have a roof yet 😂 but i want to build one in the trees bc there are too many dangerous dinos on ground level#HO SPEAKING OF I DIDN'T TALK ABOUT IT BUT I GOT ATTACKED BY A TREE CLIMBING TIGER#that fucker jumped out of nowhere from a tree made me fall from my ptera and started attacking me and then a fucking ALLOSAUR JOINED??#and i was like the 'guess I'll die' meme AND THEN I SAW MY PTERA GOING AFTER THE DINO AND I WAS LIKE 'NO DON'T YOU'LL DIE'#well fucking believe me or kot but thay fucking pteranodon killed the allosaur AND the tiger and made it out alive.#(and i thanked myself for boosting my dinos lives and energy like that's where i always add when they reach a new level)#so yeah. that chaotic ptera saved my ass today and i apologised for how i treated him when he got stuck mid air for two days KRLRKRLRKRRKRL#also my ptera is called Tera#he's green and red and awesome and also very chaotic i love him#kay anyway I'm going to sleep now because it's like 2am and I'm tired but i wanted to make a lil upate first hehehe
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sometimes watching tv is good :) i've been watching home decor and home organising shows for the past couple of weeks, and today is my very first day of summer holiday (perks of being a teacher) and i immediately started reorganising and cleaning up my home
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headspace-hotel · 4 months
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Oh my god I'm sooooo mad right now
So. I have no business telling people not to collect wild plants/materials.
I do it all the time.
However.
The words "wildcrafted," and "foraged," even "sustainably harvested," are terrifying to see in an ad on Etsy or Instagram
There is a such thing as the honorable harvest where you ASK the plant if it is okay to take, with the intention of listening if the answer is NO. Robin Wall Kimmerer talked about this, She did not make it up, it is an ancient and basic guideline of treating the plants with respect.
Basically it is not wrong to use plants and other living things, even if this means taking their life. But you are not the main character. You have to reflect on your knowledge of the organism's life cycle and its role in the ecosystem, so you can know you are not damaging the ecosystem. You have to only take what you need and avoid depleting the population.
Mary Siisip Geniusz also talked about it in an enlightening way in her book Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have To Do is Ask. She gave an example of a woman who was on an island and needed to use a medicinal herb to heal her injured leg or she would not survive the winter. In that situation she had to use up all of the plant that was on the island. This was permissible, even though it eliminated the local population, because she had to do it to save her life. But in return the woman had the responsibility to later return to the island and plant seeds of that plant.
And what makes me absolutely furious, is that there are a bunch of people online who have vaguely copied this philosophy of sustainability in a false and insulting way, saying "wildcrafted" or "foraged" materials to be all trendy and cool and in touch with nature, when it is actually just poaching.
If you are from a capitalistic culture the honorable harvest is very hard and unintuitive to learn to practice. I am not very good at it still. This is why it is suspicious if someone is confident that they can ethically and respectfully harvest wild materials with money involved.
So there's this lichen that is often called "reindeer moss." It looks like this:
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It grows only a few millimeters a year.
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This is "preserved" reindeer moss.
It is from Etsy, similar is also sold in many other online shops, many of which have the audacity to describe it as a "plant" for decorations and terrariums that needs no maintenance.
It is not maintenance-free, it is dead. It has been spray-painted a horrible shade of green. The people buying it clearly don't even know what it is. It is a popular crafting material for "fairy houses," whatever the hell those are. So is moss, also dead, spray-painted, and wild-harvested. Supposedly reindeer moss is harvested sustainably in Finland, where it is abundant, for the craft industry. However poaching of lichens and mosses is absolutely rampant.
It's even more upsetting because there's hardly any articles drawing attention to the problem. This one is from 1999. And the poaching is still going on.
There is a "moss" section on Etsy, and it is so upsetting
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These mosses and lichens were collected from the wild. Most of the shops are in the Pacific Northwest or Appalachia, which are the major locations of moss and lichen poaching. There are some shops based in Appalachia selling "foraged" reindeer moss.
Reindeer moss may be abundant in Finland, but in Appalachia it should NOT be harvested to be sold on Etsy as craft supplies! Moss doesn't grow quickly. Big, healthy colonies like this took years to grow. Some of these shops have thousands of sales, all of bags and bags of moss and lichen, and thinking of how much moss and lichen that must be, I am filled with horror.
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Clubmosses do not transplant well, and these ones have no roots. The buyers do not realize they have bought a dead plant because clubmoss stays green and pliable after it is dead.
This is especially awful because in Mary Siisip Geniusz's book she talked about clubmosses being poached so much for Christmas wreaths that they had almost disappeared from a lot of forests.
I don't even know if this is illegal if it's not a formally endangered species so I don't know if I can report them I'm just. really sad and angry
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rizsu · 6 months
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the husband and his type of style jujutsu kaisen ⭒ fem-reader.
⤹ list ﹢ nanami kento, toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, choso.
﹙ syn ﹚ headcanons — as husbands, they all have their own unique characteristic.
+ love ‘su: “i thought you hated cho—” 🔇🔇🔇
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NANAMI KENTO : the “get dressed” husband.
nanami's a man of his word. you want to eat out for dinner? get dressed by 7:00 p.m. you feel like doing a random grocery run? be ready by lunch, he'll come pick you up.
to nanami, nothing is more important than his wife's wants. having necessary items serve their purpose, obviously, but who doesn't like having their wants satisfied? he can never be one to hold you back from it.
happy wife, happy life. the motto he worships. as a man of tradition, he'd take a sick leave from his job if you wanted extra attention. a spoiler to the bone. whatever you want, just say the word and he'll tell you when to get ready.
TOJI FUSHIGURO : the “i'll make it” husband.
the king of craft. toji not only serves as eye candy for your eyes only, he also serves as your person handyman! whether it's to make, break, fix, or repair, he'll have the job done in no time. give him two hours, a beer, and a hammer.
to be loved is to be seen. for toji, he knows when you wish for something to be added to make daily activity easier. since you often crave snacks during the night, he reworked the nightstand's drawers into a small pantry filled with snacks.
sometimes you like to continue watching your show despite what you're doing. with this in mind, his new project is to either make a space into the shower wall where you can safely place your phone, or make a table for the bathtub when you're relaxing.
GOJO SATORU : the “don't you dare throw that away” husband.
a hoarder. most of the time, the items that gojo's been piling up in his studio are things that no longer serve him any purpose nor value. he simply doesn't feel like trashing it.
he'd run up the excuses that it's there for nostalgia, but if you ask him where or who the object came from, he'd be unable to answer. many times this led to unnecessary arguments. there was a time it got bad to the point he'd place the objects around the house out of pettiness.
this downside has its upside. with his hoarder mentality, you're guaranteed to find something you swore to the heavens you lost. there is always good in bad!
CHOSO : the “i miss my wife” husband.
doing grocery runs alone? he misses his wife. seeing a couple holding hands? he misses his wife. someone holding something that's enjoyed or liked by you? he misses his wife.
it's gotten to the point where if he's ever invited to a boys' night, the sentence “i miss my wife” is banned. if he says it he'll have to clean everyone's vehicle. to them, it's annoying. to you, it's peak husbandnity.
choso depends on you as much as you depend on him. oftentimes he needs a moment alone and you're always there to hold his hand. he's gotten used to such behaviour, so when he's set apart from you, the “i miss my wife” gets wicked.
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prael · 9 days
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A Bargain To Remember
Kinktember Day 13: Car sex
(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut
words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist
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"Finally, a face to the name."
You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.
The surprise is that she knows you.
Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.
"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.
"I would like to make a purchase."
"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"
She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."
You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."
She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.
"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."
There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.
Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."
You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."
Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."
You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"
"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"
"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."
"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.
"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."
She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.
"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.
You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.
"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."
She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.
"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.
She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.
She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"
"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."
Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."
You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.
The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.
"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.
You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"
"Do it." She's insistent.
A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.
There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.
Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.
"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.
"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"
"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."
Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.
"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"
Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"
You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."
"You're going to manually record?"
"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.
She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.
A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.
A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.
"Where are we?" you ask.
"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.
"When are we?"
"2024."
"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"
She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"
"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"
She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."
Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.
"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."
"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.
And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.
"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.
She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.
"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.
Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.
It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.
You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.
She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.
You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.
Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.
She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.
You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.
You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.
"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."
You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.
"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."
You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.
You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.
"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.
"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.
Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.
Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.
You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.
"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.
Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."
She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.
You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.
"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."
"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.
"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.
She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."
You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.
A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.
You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.
Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."
"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."
You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.
The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.
"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.
It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.
"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."
Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.
From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.
Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.
And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.
"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"
"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."
"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.
"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.
You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...
"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."
You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.
She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.
"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.
There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.
"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.
You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.
"Incredible," you breathe.
Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.
"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.
"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.
"I'll get started."
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oct0bra1ns · 7 months
Note
Hi hi! So I don't know if you've done anything like this before, but could you maybe do a rich yandere with a darling that has like...a bazillion hobbies and stuff? Like, yan kidnaps darling, and darling is crazy willing after yan says he'll pay for/support all their hobbies and stuff? Cuz sometimes it be expensive to enjoy life
Thank you, have a good day/night :>
Pairing: Rich Yandere x reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others , yanderes, notes:oh to have your hobbies supported -(a dead inside stem student) reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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Yandere Richman who had eyes on you from the very start, from the moment he read your resume, he felt a pull which he couldn't explain, I mean, you looked done with the office and everyone inside and very rarely did he see you genuinely smile.
Yandere Richman who almost had a fit when he saw his secretary hand your resignation letter in. Was it the pay? he'd double your amount and lessen the work load, no issue, or was it your annoying coworker, he could deal with that issue in less than three seconds.
Yandere Richman who's last resort is to kidnap you on your last day working. You're such a hardworking employ, it's sad to see you go, why don't you enjoy a nice dinner with him before you leave. Oh, you're feeling sleepy? Go on, he doesn't mind.
Yandere Richman who saw the way your house was littered with various painting, writing and other crafts while he was getting your stuff so that you could settle into the new house.
Yandere Richman who's stunned when you eagerly agree to be with him when he mentions he'll let you pursue whatever craft you want and pay for everything a stark contrast to the fact that you had to give up on your hobbies due the obligations of life.
Yandere Richman who goes shopping with you everytime you want new supplies and if he's busy or unable to come with you, he'll hand you his card and let you go crazy.
Yandere Richman who loves watching you craft, always making sure to tell you just how much he admires your work and it shows in the way he hangs your paintings on the wall, the way he stores all your writing in a folder placed carefully in his room, the way he'll give you an entire floor of his house to let you work and display your work.
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tac-the-unseen · 2 months
Note
Could you write slashers with a s/o who’s an artist? You can do with all/any you want but I would specifically like maybe the Sinclairs, Billy Lenz, Brahms and maybe Pinhead?
Slashers x Artist Reader + Pinhead
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Micheal Myers:
•Pretends not to care, but he's an artist at heart
•If you sculpt or blind things he will insist on watching you over your shoulders
•Will steal supplies for you whether you ask or not
•if you Draw or paint, it's going on the fridge or wall
•He truly admires your work
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•Billy and Stu really just lets you do your thing
•Stu suggest glitter no matter the work or meaning
•Billy Suggests You make a lot of gore pieces
•Both of them will go the extra mile to kill models for you, so you have a subject
•Both Jokingly propose to model nude for you
Thomas Hewitt:
•Loves it when you proudly show him your art
•if you draw/paint on paper, He'll build custom frames So he can hang it up
•If you paint on a canvas, He'll make you canvases so you can make more art
•If you sculpt/Make pottery He'll make a display case for your work
•He's very proudly flaunts it to the family
Bubba Sawyer:
•Shows you his Bone art
•Wants to make art with you
•No matter what you do, He wants to join
•Will be as happy as can be if you make crafts with him or use his supply of bones in your art
Bo Sinclair:
•His Brain immediately connects you to Vincent
•He subconsciously starts treating you like his brother, no matter your relationship with him
•When he goes to other town he grabs you and his brother some supplies
•kinda just plops you down with Vincent and expects you to to get along, especially if you sculpt
•That's about as nice as he can get
Vincent Sinclair:
•He's excited to have somebody who understands
•Will silently sit next to you well both of you work on your craft
•Feels oddly comforting to him
•His family has always been connected by art, even though they're not great people. So having you make art with him solidifies your position as family to him
•shows you his technique with wax working, and wants to teach you how to sculpt with wax
Lester Sinclair:
•pt. 3 of familial bond
•because he didn't receive much attention as a kid, He desperately tried to be an artist to gain favor of his mother
•It didn't click with him the way it clicked with Vincent so he was shoved aside for “real artists”
•If you sit down and make art with him, he will cry
•constantly seeking your validation and praise
•holds your art very dear
Billy Lenz:
•Yet another creature looking over your shoulder
•He's fascinated by your ability to create
•You have hands And he has hands, yet your creations are always different than his
•He's a little jealous
•demands you teach him how to be better
•If you already don't know he'll show you how to crochet in return
Brahms Heelshire:
•In All his time locked away He has had plenty to make art
•He focus on the more classical sides of painting and traditional drawing
•He makes stunning portraits, So if you have a different art style it confuses him
•He's lived his life very sheltered so at first he might not even consider it art
•He later learns how much time and care you put into these works and starts to appreciate your dedication
•He also steals some of them to put up in his room
Hannibal Lecter:
•Very excited
•Starts showing off his own private art collection
•Takes it upon himself to teach you “proper technique”
•Gives you random history lessons on your choice of art form
•buys you very expensive supplies
Will Graham:
•Okay dude
•Doesn’t really care
•Just happy that you're happy
•Secretly admires your work when you are away
•Always make sure your work is safe and undamaged
The Lost Boys:
•Marko is immediately grinning ear to ear
•David pretends not to care
•Dwayne silently watches you
•Paul is all up in your personal space while you work
•No matter what you make or how proud of it you are, It's going in the horde pile with all their other treasures
•Paul and Marko asking you to draw them all the time
•If you do it's being hung up on the wall
Pinhead:
•Another artist in his own way
•He prefers body modification and rigging as his art form
•Will creepy watch you work from a distance
•He’ll give you polite criticism from time to time
•Seeing you so focused and dedicated makes him think of all the other past artists he's met
•Decides fairly quickly that you are his favorite
Thanks for reading <3
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planet-dusk · 1 year
Text
🏷️ mean dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, hyune has a big cock, one pussy slap, orgasm denial, overstim, subspace, pet names: doll, baby
hyunjin bullied himself deeper between your walls, the sound of your drawn-out moans music to his ears.
your hands grabbed at his shoulders, at his arms, searching for anything to hold onto while his thick cock stretched you out in a way you'd never experienced before. after his relentless teasing earlier, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with his fingers and tongue countless times (only to pull back and stop you from tipping over) you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold out for.
"hnng — you-you're bigger than i thought, i'm not sure it'll fit —"
hyunjin grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed above your head, wrapping his long fingers around them with ease.
"stop squirming, doll. it's only halfway in. you were the one begging for it earlier."
"that… that was before i knew it was so big," you whined.
"don't say i didn't warn you."
he had warned you. multiple times. talking with his friends about their conquests, laughing at you rolling your eyes. fishermen's tales without a doubt, or so you'd thought. it'd always been hard to tell if he was speaking the truth. there had been a time where you'd thought he could be a lost romantic, with his love for the arts and the books he was always carrying with him. but there was nothing romantic about his addiction to sweet things, burning through them without mercy, throwing them away as soon as they lost their flavor.
it was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from him. but still you'd ignored all the warning signs when he'd kissed you so sweetly tonight. you'd granted him the one thing you'd vowed you never would: allowing him to consume you.
"do you want me to stop, then?"
you avoided his eyes, fixating on the silver chain dangling from his neck. a long time ago you'd found his love for elegant silver jewellery irritating. as if he tried too hard at his carefully crafted persona. you're not sure when that changed.
"you've always been a shy little thing," hyunjin bend down and brought his face closer to yours. "it's cute. but i need you to tell me what you want, doll. need to hear you beg for it."
you licked your lips. you hated how beautiful he looked even with his hair mussed and his skin coated in sweat. hated how much of a wreck he'd made you. how powerless he made you feel.
how much you liked it.
"because i don't think you want me to stop. look how your pussy is drooling for it — soaked at the thought of being stretched by me. watch what happens when i pull out..."
he rolled his hips back, laughing at the way you tried to tug your wrists out of his grip, your broken whine when he slapped your clit with the head of his cock.
"hyune, please —"
"that's what i thought," he grinned, "i know what you want. you just have to ask nicely."
"w-want your cock, please, want it all," you whispered, heat spreading through your body, mortified by the admission. who knew how many women had been in this exact position before — on someone else's bed, loud music still playing downstairs while hyunjin made them beg for his cock. somehow it would've been better if he'd just taken it from you, no questions asked, only hushed moans and whimpers in the dark.
his satisfied smile told you he knew. he knew, and he loved every second of it.
but what he loved even more was the raw, unfiltered moan you let out when he forced his cock in fully, watching your eyes widen in realization:
"f-fuck, i'm - i think i'm —"
"are you really going to cum from me just putting it in? fuck baby, you're really that desperate, aren't you? poor little thing," he pulled out completely and slapped your cunt with his free hand, "if you're going to cum now you'll be in for a long night." he rubbed his fingers through the mess between your legs, arousal sticking to his skin.
after the earlier denial you were hurling towards your peak embarrassingly fast, and when he pushed back in you clenched around his cock in waves of pleasure, hips bucking into his. you sobbed when he started moving, unsure of where your body stopped and his began.
"'s too much, please, hyune…"
hyunjin let go of your wrists and pulled you closer, bending your knees and kissing the salty tears off your cheeks. you felt yourself slipping away into a floaty haze, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you the only thing that mattered.
"don't worry, i'm not done with you yet, doll," hyunjin murmured. "we're just getting started."
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pasukiyo · 6 months
Text
I END WITH YOU
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anakin skywalker x f!jedi!reader word count; 3,988 warnings; unprotected p in v sex, angst summary; you're too good, too noble. anakin doesn't understand why you feel the need to always protect him when he doesn't need saving. when you get hurt, it takes every ounce of willpower within him to not go insane. you don't seem to understand why he's so doting. you thought you had anakin skywalker figured out... ...but you have no idea how he ends.
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 One look was all it took, for Anakin could hear it in the silence. 
 “I need you.”
 Anakin’s lips had already been pressed together, his brow already furrowed, for he was already royally pissed off. It’d been enough to be dragged on this wasteland of a planet by Obi-Wan, it’d been enough that she’d insisted that she should tag along, it’d been enough that absolutely nothing was going according to plan— and seeing her with a blaster wound to the bicep certainly didn’t aid in improving his mood. 
 It was bad enough he had to react like he didn’t care enough, pretend that for a moment, he didn’t fear that she wouldn’t react to move in enough time, that the little ray of blazing scarlet would pierce straight through her heart. It was bad enough that he had to watch her slice the wobbling green light of her saber through the battle droid’s chest all on her own, all the while clutching her arm. 
 It was bad enough watching her being patched up now, having to stare into her eyes that on the surface, seemed to mask her pain. But Anakin knew her better than anyone else— he could see right through that facade she’d so delicately crafted. All he could see now was her desperation, her desire to hold him close, to feel him so deeply like no other could. Anakin had to look away now, for not only was Obi-Wan approaching, but he knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to detach himself from her. 
 “You’ve certainly seen brighter days,” Obi-Wan said as he sauntered into the small alcove of the ship Anakin had accompanied her in. She tore her gaze away from the side of Anakin’s face to instead fixate on the Jedi Master, glancing down at her wound that C-3PO had since covered in Bacta spray. 
 “It’s no bother,” she replied, shrugging and raising her arm, much to 3PO’s dismay as he rocked the upper half of his body back, arms thrown in the air. “No, no! I am not done dressing your wound yet! You must keep it still or else your wound may open again and—“
 “3PO,” Anakin’s bark of the droid’s name permeated the room and all seemed to still for a moment. She blinked at the sound of Anakin’s voice and swallowed down her desire to let it burn like a spark on a rope, trailing all the way down her throat and chest until it reached the frayed edges at the pit of her belly, setting her center ablaze. She shifted where she sat and dropped her head, along with her arm as 3PO— now silent— continued to wrap it. 
 Anakin turned to face his former Master as Obi-Wan eyed him right back, a wrinkle in his brow. Anakin only waited for him to continue, wiping his face clean of any feeling. After another few moments of the already prolonged silence, Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder into the frame of the door. 
 “Master Windu summons us for a meeting as soon as we get back to the Temple,” Obi-Wan continued. “To discuss all that has transpired today, and such.”
 Anakin sunk his molars down into the slimy flesh of the inside of his cheek, feeling his features harden as he turned away to face the panels on the wall. 
 “Great,” he replied, irritation laced in his tone. Obi-Wan knew Anakin well enough to know when something was weighing on his mind. But Obi-Wan also knew Anakin well enough to know when to not push his boundaries. He respected him enough for that, at least. 
 Obi-Wan sighed as he pushed off the wall, dipping his chin when he glimpsed back over to where she sat, 3PO finishing up the final touches of her bandages. “Rest well,” he said. “You will need your strength.”
 She dipped her chin back to Obi-Wan, grateful for an excuse to avert her gaze. “Thank you,” she replied, and then Obi-Wan was off, brown robes trailing behind him and slowly disappearing behind the door as it slid closed. 
 “There,” 3PO finished her bandages at last. She glanced down at her wrapped arm, already feeling the bacta spray begin to set into the wound, sighing in relief as the pain began to subside. “Please do not move it around too much. Too much movement could lead to—“
 “That’s enough, 3PO,” Anakin, voice still as deep as it was earlier, turned, sharp gaze slicing into the metal of the droid. 3PO turned to face his creator, “but, Master Skywalker, I must insist that she—“
 “I assure you, 3PO, that she will face no further harm,” Anakin interrupted the droid yet again, arms uncrossing and dropping to his sides as he moved to step closer. 3PO, with his stiff arms held in the air, took a step backward, facing his Master. “Now go.”
 3PO’s arms flailed as he turned, waddling his way towards the door. “How rude! A thank you would be nice every once in a while,” she could just make out from the droid before the door slid closed behind him and she bowed her head, picking at the edges of her bandages with her fingernails. 
 “You could be nicer to him, you know,” she murmured, not having realized that Anakin had drawn himself closer, not until the middle and forefinger of his gloved mechanical hand pressed beneath the underside of her chin. Her gaze was forced into his, her bottom lip quivering at the storm raging in the dark hues of his irises. Although she knew Anakin was angry, she could feel a spark set her skin ablaze at the sight of his tightly pressed lips, of his furrowed brow, tight jaw and exploded pupils. 
 She struggled to keep her thighs from closing together to ease the ache in her core. 
 “Why must you insist on getting yourself into situations that always end in you getting hurt?” Anakin snipped and she blinked when the thumb of his gloved hand curled around the curve of her chin, his grip tightening on her jaw. Her breath shuddered as Anakin’s stare dropped to her lips, to her throat, to her collarbone, to her clothes, as if searching for any further sign of injury. 
 Her bottom lip wobbled before she replied, “you can at least acknowledge that I do not always get myself hurt.” 
 Anakin breathed a humorless laugh through his nostrils at this, his jaw ticking as he straightened, dropping his hand from her face altogether to pace the floor. “You’re always putting yourself in front of others, in front of Obi-Wan, in front of me,” he shook his head and she stared at the scar slicing through his right brow to avoid his gaze. “As if we aren’t capable of protecting ourselves.”
 Her quivering lips curled into a scowl at this as he looked anywhere but at her, chest heaving with the effort of keeping his anger at bay. “You’re angry with me for protecting you?” she repeated to confirmed and Anakin glowered her way. “I do not need your protection,” he hissed. “I can do it just fine on my own. Why don’t you look out for yourself every once in a while, you wouldn’t be in here today, hurt.”
 A humorless titter tumbled past his lips and he shook his head again. “Foolish girl,” he muttered, the wrinkle in her brow dimpling. “I do not need you to belittle me, Anakin,” she hissed back. “Do you take me for a fool?”
 Her heart pounded its fists against the inside of her chest— the last thing she wanted now was to argue with him. All she wanted was him, she craved him, needed to feel his arms around her, his fingers in her hair, his skin upon hers. But there, where that desire ached deep in the marrow of her bones, burned fury, white hot anger blitzing through her veins like a comet. 
 Did Anakin underestimate her? After all this time they’d known each other, grown with each other in the temple, learned together, trained together, fought together— did he misconstrue her power? 
 Her need for Anakin could wait— this berating of her dignity could no longer go on. 
 Anakin’s feet pivoted until he faced her, eyes searching her face, fleeting between her sealed lips, her clenched jaw, furrowed brows, heaving chest, sharpened features. He didn’t need to reach out and feel it to know she was upset, and it occurred to him that perhaps in his haze of rage, he’d misspoken. 
 He knew how capable she was, how skilled of a Jedi she was. There was no doubt about it— but what he hated most was how noble she was, how good she was. He hated that because she was too good, she’d spare not a second thought in battle. How it’d make her use herself as a shield to protect others, to protect him. 
 He couldn’t stand it, her need to protect him when his need to protect her blazed just as strong. Anakin couldn’t go on another minute knowing she’d been blasted all because he’d had his back turned, because she’d been quicker to react than him. Had he been paying attention, had he moved faster, he’d have been able to deflect the blaster bolt with his saber, he’d have been the one with the blaster wound instead. 
 His gaze flickered down to the bandages wound on her upper arm and he had to turn away, feeling the bitter taste of bile on the tip of his tongue. 
 “I do not think you are a fool,” he began. “But must you always be so noble?” She blinked, feeling her heart skip a few beats inside her chest. “Putting yourself in the line of danger for others, for me,” he shook his head as he paced to the other side of the room. “I cannot stand it.”
 She straightened her posture where she sat, sucking in a deep breath. “If I infuriate you so much, perhaps it’d serve you well to quit doting on me all of the time,” she snapped back, unflinching even when his glare hardened, firing just like a blaster shot into hers. “You pay attention to me more than you do yourself. Do you know how much I would hate myself if you got hurt because you treat me like I am a child?”
 Anakin stopped pacing, turning to face her once more. Either of his hands rested on his hips, bottom lip wobbling with his temper. 
 “You are not a child,” he replied. “And I am not doting. You misunderstand me.”
 She shook her head, “I think I’ve got you pretty figured out, Anakin Skywalker,” she said with a humorless titter, rising from her seat to march her way towards the door. She couldn’t stand being alone with him anymore, not when she looked at him and didn’t know whether or not she wanted to pounce on him and kiss him until their lips bled or slap her palm across his face. 
 Just before she could make it within reaching distance of the door’s control panel, the glove around his prosthetic hand tight where it wrapped around her uninjured arm, stilling her where she stood. 
 For a moment, neither spoke. She pressed her lips together in a firm, thin line, her breath heavy as it exhaled through her nose. She willed her eyes to fixate on his, the action proving itself difficult, as they wanted nothing more than to drop to his lips. His gaze was so hot, it was blistering, and she swore she could melt in a pool of magma at their feet. 
 “You know where I begin,” Anakin spoke in a low, husky voice. Her bottom lip quivered— damn her soaked center for betraying her so. “But you’ve not even the slightest idea where I end.”
 She blinked up at him, feeling a gate open somewhere inside of her, all her anger and frustration washing away as if with rain. All that remained in the downpour’s wake now was her libido, her desire to kiss him, her need to feel him, her lust for just him. 
 As the silence neared its end, Anakin’s features began to deflate, as if he’d reached out with the Force to feel him. She allowed herself to breathe, seal her eyelids closed, and reach an invisible hand towards him. Sure enough, she could feel him like a whisper on the tips of her fingers, like reaching out to graze her nails on the surface of the ocean. 
 When her eyes fluttered open again, his were closed, but not for long. She watched his eyelashes as they flit upon his cheeks, the veil of his lids sliding away until she was staring into that strange, enigmatic ocean in his gaze, his waters so dark, so blue, so captivating that she allowed herself to dive right in. 
 “Then lead me to your end,” she whispered breathlessly, feeling the gloved hand he’d had wrapped around her upper arm make its trek up the mountain of her shoulder, through the valley between it and her neck, up her throat and across the waterfall of her chin until his palm cupped her cheek. The pad of his thumb soothed over the flesh just beneath her bottom lip, and she shuddered. 
 Anakin sifted through the darkness of her pupils, his gaze so intense that for a moment, she believed he really was reading her mind, searching through the archives of her brain. But really, all he saw was her, as if she were in the limelight. All he could focus on was her, her breathing, her eyes, nose, lips. 
 He was a black hole, a bottomless pit etched into the earth, so dark, she realized that he was right: she wasn’t sure where he ended. 
 And Anakin pulled her right in. 
 They surged into one another like a wave crashing into another, his lips a seal over hers. Their tongues did a waltz inside where their mouths connected, Anakin quickly taking control. She mewled into his mouth as she clutched at his robes, tugging them forward as Anakin backed her into the wall, her back hitting the steel with a thud. 
 She was already so frustrated— yanking on the fabric of his robes, searching for an inch of his skin. His tongue was so strong over hers, his kiss so powerful, her mind was beginning to ooze into goo. Anakin’s hands moved away from her body but their kiss never once broke as he pushed the outer layer of his robes off his shoulders, letting the material pool at their feet. 
 She began unraveling his underclothes like he was a gift and he yanked the leather glove off of his mechanical hand, undoing the cloth belt around her waist with his other. Anakin tossed her belt off to the side, the flowy, outer layer of her top unraveling from her chest and he pushed the material down her shoulders, letting it join his robes on the floor. They pulled away for the briefest of moments, solely so Anakin could lift the tight undershirt away from her body before lifting his own shirt over his head. She pulled him in by the hem of his pants when he was done, tugging them down his thighs as he pulled down hers. 
 Skin. All she could feel was Anakin’s skin and oh, it was the softest thing she swore she’d ever touched before. He was like the richest of velvet, soft and so beautiful, a never-ending avenue for her lust. All she wanted to do all the time was touch him, never let his skin leave hers. 
 A hand snaked around to the nape of his neck to tug on the dark blonde locks there as his kisses broke from her lips to trace a line down her neck, feeling the edges of his teeth against the small curve of her collarbone. Her other hand clawed at the expanse of his back, hissing through her teeth at the pressure of his body against her wound. For a moment, Anakin seemed to realize this, his kisses slowing on her collarbone until she used the grip she had on his hair to draw him into her again. 
 “Don’t stop,” she mewled beside the shell of his ear, only hoping she’d be able to keep herself quiet enough. The notion that Obi-Wan was still on the ship lingered in the back of her mind, but she wasn’t so sure Anakin cared as much as his lips trailed down to the swell of her breast, nipping her between his teeth there. 
 Her head threw itself back against the steel wall, one of her legs lifting and bending to wrap around his. Anakin placed his palms on the backs of her thighs to lift her up, his body the only thing keeping her balanced. 
 “Anakin,” she breathed as he sucked marks into her breasts, teasing the bud of one of her nipples with the tip of his tongue. Through hooded lids, he glanced up at her, his lips never ceasing. She swiped her tongue between her lips for moisture, panting as he sunk his teeth into the flesh on the underside of her breast, sure to leave a mark. “Anakin!” She yelped and he released her skin, the bridge of his nose soothing up the valley between her tits as he kissed her skin.
 “I can’t help it,” he breathed into her chest. “You are like a vice.”
 She mewled again as she bucked her hips into him, feeling his erection beneath her.
 “Please Anakin,” she murmured. “Just need you to be inside. Need to feel you.”
 Anakin muttered a string of curses into her throat as he kissed his way back to her lips, peeling his mouth away from hers to rest his forehead against hers. 
 “Yeah?” He whispered, feeling her nod against his head. Anakin gazed down between her legs, at the glistening folds of her cunt, past it where the angry, pink head of his cock was. There was an ache deep in the pit of his belly for her that even he couldn’t believe he’d deprived himself of relieving for so long. “I need you too.”
 She gasped as he rocked his hips slowly, the tip of his length prodding against the underside of her angry clit. Her arms tightened where they were wrapped around his neck, catching his bottom lip between hers, sucking as he steadied himself into position, clamping her teeth down into the plush, pink flesh when he slid himself in. 
 Only the head of his cock had breached her barrier but she was already crying, hot, fat tears slipping from her eye sockets and rolling down her cheeks. She was so desperate to feel more, to have him as deep inside of her as possible. She could feel her walls clench around him, inviting him further in. Anakin groaned above her, muttering a string of curses against her sweaty hairline as he pushed himself the last few inches in.
 Anakin was so big, so girthy that she felt so full, felt like she hadn’t any room to speak, not even to breathe. She could feel him so deep inside of her where no other had been before, feeling him reach that hardly touched spot so far in her that just the mere graze of his tip against it felt like it seared a bruise.
 “Anak—!” She cried before his lips were on hers again, muffling her sounds. His hips retracted before thrusting back in, his cock hitting her cervix again, making her vision go black and glisten with stars. 
 “I’ve never felt something as wonderful as this,” Anakin panted as he pulled back only to thrust himself back in again. “I could stay in your pussy forever.”
 Her bottom lip wobbled and a mewl ripped from her throat as he clenched her thigh with his prosthetic hand, the other resting on the side of her neck, thumb just above the pulse of her throat. 
 “Let me see you,” Anakin whispered against her ear, pulling away as her eyelids fluttered back open, feeling that blistering stare surge back into hers. 
 But she knew what he meant. 
 She closed her eyes again and Anakin dropped his forehead to hers, his pace at a steady rhythm, his thrusts forceful, significant. She focused on the length of his cock nestled deep inside her warmth, on his warm skin on hers, on his breathing and the beat of his heart. All ceased to exist except for Anakin Skywalker, and she opened her mind to the sole being of her universe. 
 He felt like a breath of fresh air on the brightest day in Naboo, like when they visited their friend Padmé Amidala there and took a stroll through the Lake Country. He felt like the gentle, warm breeze that kissed her cheek. He was as warm as the smile he’d given her when they’d fallen on their backs in the plush, green grass. He was as tender as the words he’d spoken to her when he confessed his love for her. 
 Anakin Skywalker was truly a force like no other. He was power like she’d never felt before, more electrifying than even the rush that wielding her lightsaber gave her. He was stronger than even the feeling of the Force flowing through her veins was because in her eyes, he was her Force, her ground, her earth, her universe. 
 Anakin Skywalker was all that existed. He was all that was ever important. She never cared once for the oath she’d sworn under the Jedi Code when she was with him. She’d leave it all behind, let all her training and hard work go to waste, just so she could have him like this. Anakin was her centerfold, and she, his. 
 She stared at Anakin with a gentleness she’d never seen him in before and through their connection in the Force, he began to glow, like a star in a supernova. When she glanced down at herself, she found she shone the same. They were two stars in the middle of the galaxy reaching their end and she surged into him to brace for impact. 
 “Anakin!” She called his name into the connection and Anakin murmured her name back, feeling him brush against her cheek like the pad of a thumb. “I’m so close,” she mewled breathlessly and Anakin hummed in reply. He was so bright now, they were both so close that it was blinding. “We end together,” Anakin replied, sifting his fingers through her hair. 
 And they did just that. 
 Like a star in a supernova, she exploded and suddenly she was back in that small alcove of the ship, shuddering in the strong, warm arms of Anakin Skywalker. Her legs trembled with the force of her orgasm as it surged through her, her body melting into Anakin’s as thick, hot spurts of his own release flooded into her. 
 Their skin melted together as they both panted, chasing air back into their lungs and coming down from their highs. Using her arms still wrapped around his neck, she drew herself closer into him, nuzzling the side of her face against his chest. She could hear and feel his heartbeat there, matching the tempo of her own. 
 “I burn for you, Anakin,” her voice came out in barely a whisper. “It’s why I protect you— I’d be nothing if I were to lose you.”
 Anakin said nothing for a moment and she took the time to bask in the warmth of the silence, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. 
 “It’s because of how much I burn for you that I care so much about you,” he finally murmured his reply. “Because you are my purpose. I only end with you.”
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a/n; okay six posts in a row, i am on a roll LMAOOO but ummmm... i actually feel proud of this one... i know... crazy 😵‍💫 turns out i write the best whenever i'm sitting in the bathtub LMFAO anyways! i truly hope you all enjoy this one :) i’ve enjoyed writing for anakin a lot these days! i don’t know why i never took the time to write for him before, he’s such a unique and complex character who is so fun to write for!
please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply if you enjoyed! it means the world to me 🥹🫶
TAGLIST;
@your-nanas-house
@chaoticevilbakugo
@k1ttenmittonz
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miiilowo · 8 months
Text
v1 blog simulator 2
💥bloodisfuel🔁godfist
🪽godfist
URGENT!!!!!! FALLEN ANGEL IN NEED OF DONATIONS
As many of you certainly already know, I have overthrown the federal government and I am in desperate need of aid as a result. I will not be going into full detail, as I don't have much time left to begin with, but if you would be kind enough to spare some cash so I can go take a victory lap while wasted on as much Margaritaville as possible before the Father's light fades from my form I would appreciate it deeply. Thank you in advance may god bless you or whayever the fuck i dont know anymore
venmo in bio
513/?
🪽godfist
STOP THROWING COINS AT MY FUCKING WINDOW
💥bloodisfuel
01101110 01101111
4,765 notes
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💥bloodisfuel🔁computher
⬛computher
i dont know why i even try anymore
🔺honorary-scraphead
stop doomposting and do arts and crafts with me
⬛computher
do i have to
⬛computher
he just blew himself up with the crayon maker
37 notes
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💥bloodisfuel🔁godfist
🪽godfist
Not to 'vague-post' but if I need to crush someone's tiny wireframe body in my hands right fucking now or else I'll rip my helmet off on stream and blind all of you on purpose im not joking
💥bloodisfuel
48°52.6, 123°23.6
🪽godfist
what
🪽godfist
did you just fucking doxx me
#👍
6,784 notes
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💥bloodisfuel
#poll #polls
8 notes
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💥bloodisfuel🔁angel-kisser
⭐angel-kisser
12k notes
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💥bloodisfuel🔁computher
🏆swordsmachine
seword mmacine
37k notes
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💥bloodisfuel🔁helldoll
🩵m1ndfl4y3r
drones love to be hit into walls they love it. they love when you punch them so hard they explode they like being launched into the atmosphere so hard they start burning upits literally abusive to not do it
317 notes
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💥bloodisfuel🔁godfist
🕶️staff-deactivated
We've been receiving a lot of questions lately, and we would like to kindly remind you that tumblr user Godfist, also known as Archangel Gabriel, is on the staff team and is more than willling to answer questions in regards to your eternal damnation! He's a beloved member of the force and we wouldn't be where we are today without him!
🚀guts-n-tanks
this aged like shit
🪽godfist
shut the fuck up
102k notes
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(thank you @p3terpaan for the gabriel edit)
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mondaymelon · 9 months
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OMGGG what about the tall genshin men reacting when u suddenly distance urself from them, but they dont know its bc of something they said? feel free to edit n modify this as much as ud like :3
₊˚ෆ "𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄…" | diluc, childe, kaveh x gn!reader
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art by @/kongqingkoqi on twitter! (not too sure on who you meant by tall characters, so i just chose a couple males with the tall model~ thank you for your request!)
— cw: angst + comfort ? injury (diluc), ngl reader is kinda a bitch in childe's but it was the only way i thought up of of making the situation work so. lmao. cries
[ Perhaps it was the winter cold that had bit him so, or perhaps it was merely a gloom that had briefly descended upon him. Either way, an unfortunate slip of the tongue has wounded you, yet they themselves remain unaware. ]
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"Love?"
DILUC's eyes are round with worry, and his concerned gaze sweeps over you - from your crestfallen form, and then to your eyes that shy away from his. Ever since he had returned to the estate after being out of business since morning, you've been avoiding him, not wishing to speak a single word to his self and not even bothering to spare him a fleeting glance.
At first, it was bearable. Perhaps you just had had a long day and wanted some alone time, no? It was always a possibility, that is, until he saw your smiling self as you busied yourself in chatting away with the maids, and most importantly, that brother of his.
What had he done to warrant such treatment? You loved him, that he was sure of. Otherwise, you would've rejected him, wouldn't you? You wouldn't have let him take your hand and bring it to his lips ever so slowly, pressing a kiss into your knuckles?
"Love, I... I'm sorry. Please, tell me what I did wrong." His voice contains a shred of his desperation, and his crimson eyes only hold you in their gaze. You, who had broken past his carefully crafted walls and rekindled the flame that had long since been extinguished within his heart. "If it's something I did, if it's something I said-"
“Diluc, you…” Your quiet voice ebbs to silence as your eyes glance away, landing on everything except for the red-haired man before you, whose broad shoulders give the slightest tremor. The darkness in your expression, the displayed hurt… Ah.
Diluc’s weary mind raced, recollecting the hasty conversation from this morning, when dawn had yet to break and he had arrived home, coat blazing, skin littered in bruises and still-bleeding cuts. You had rushed out of your bedroom, still in your night garments, panicking over the wounds that covered his body and the red that blackened his already dark clothes. In a strained voice, eyes wide and frantic, you had called for the maids, only for Diluc to forcibly shush you, steadying himself on shaky legs.
“Love, what happened, what were you doing and how did-??”
“It doesn’t concern you.” His tone is low, tired. “Stay out of this, you won’t be able to offer any assistance anyhow.”
Begrudgingly, the man recalled his absolute exhaustion, having just returned after a bloody night of battling monsters, muscles sore and crying for relief. There was no need for your concern, his cuts would mend and his wounds would heal. Yet he hadn’t meant for his words to come out so harsh, for his tongue to pierce you in the way it had.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't in my right mind when I said that- I just... I just didn't want you to be hurt also... If I'm injured, those wounds will fade with time, but I.."
His words trail off, replaced with your silence - a voiceless agreement, one that Diluc takes as an answer. Holding both your hands in his gloved ones, it's somehow easy to feel his fiery warmth despite his cold demeanor. Cold... was it really so? The male's eyes shone, and then you were in his arms, tightly intertwined.
"..I don't know what I would do if harm were to befell you, love..."₊˚ෆ
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"Love!"
CHILDE's playful smile fades at its corners as you walk past him, the way you're failing to even acknowledge his presence painfully apparent. "Hah... what's with you today?" Another absence of a response. You dash your way out of his sight, and he's left alone in the dark living room, a half-smile still on his features. The fuck?
Okay, maybe it was just one of those days. There had been several since the start of the relationship, and the harbinger offered his utmost understanding. Sometimes people just felt like shit, and didn't feel like doing shit, and he could understand that to some extent.
There, mystery solved, yeah? Ah, but just one problem, how come you had been completely fine just an hour before? He had the day off, and so did you, so there was a mutual agreement to just stay home and laze about in one another's presence - yet it was only nearing lunchtime and you had already given him the cold shoulder? For what..? You hadn't even gone outside or did anything today-
Oh. Then he had to have been the problem. He raps his knuckles on your bedroom door, but it's really his bedroom too, and is bold enough to poke his head through the frame without waiting for your confirmation, a hesitant grin decorating his lips. "Love, I'm sorry- for ah... whatever you disliked...?"
You're sat at your desk, weariness evident in your darkened eyes. "Childe, do you find me someone who needs to be protected?"
He blinks. "...What?"
"Childe, do you really just want to spend the entire day lying around?" Snapping your fingers, your eyes lit up with sparkles. "We should go to a cafe or something for lunch, maybe, and then-"
"Why through go all the effort? We're staying home because I thought you wanted to, aren't we?"
"Not to that extent Childe... if you were with friends, what would you be doing? Not sitting on the couch all day, I hope?" A sheepish smile crossed your face.
"Hmm.. friends... I suppose we'd duel...?"
"Then-"
"Nope, no way am I dueling with you, you're way too weak, love, that's why I gotta protect you, hm?"
He immediately shakes his head at your words, almost frantic. "W- No, I didn't mean it in that way, love. You're capable, it's just that... Well- you don't have a vision, or a weapon, or-"
"Childe." Not your usual 'love', a bright smile on your lips, and he flinches just the slightest at the sight. "We're in a relationship. I don't want to be in a give all take all relation, you know? I.. I want to be independent, I want you to rely on me sometimes too... I just feel like sometimes I'm just such a burden to you and-"
"A burden?" His eyes widen, features instantly shadowing with disbelief at your words.
You, a burden? Such a thing couldn't possibly be. The warmth that you had granted him, the delicate arms that had held him in its hold, the lips that had whispered such affections and pressed kisses on his skin-
"No, love. You are not a burden, not when you are someone who makes life worth living." ₊˚ෆ
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"Love...?"
KAVEH's in instant full blown panic mode, the dark bags under his eyes especially evident with how wide they've grown. "H-Hey, are you okay?" Of course, something wasn't okay - otherwise, why would you be ignoring him like this? But his sleepless mind has grown frantic, and he's desperate for relief. His hand latches onto yours before you can disappear into another room, holding onto your wrist loosely enough to not seem forceful. "Ah..."
He'd moved without thinking, almost as if on instinct, and now that you had glanced back with something colder in your gaze, that same urge told him not to let go. "I, I'm sorry!" For what exactly, he wouldn't even be able to tell a soul, yet the words seemed to have done the trick, as your feet pause in the middle of a step away from him, hesitance clear in your expression.
"For what, Kaveh?"
Shit, he's fucked. This was it, all the all nighters and hours of laborious planning and calculations had led to this one moment... His mind was spurred into action as his mouth sputtered useless stutters and... oh, could it be?
"Kaveh, you should go to sleep, it's already so late, and you haven't gotten a good rest in days, love..." Your concerned tone rang clearly in his ears, but he shook the words away, his disheveled form only focusing on the work before him, the endless tasks he had yet to complete.
"No, I... I can't. Love, could you brew me a cup of coffee, the extra strong kind? Thank you..." He gave his sleepy eyes a rub, completely missing the look that had flitted across your face in that moment.
Your sigh invades his flashbacks, and you look completely done with him, brows furrowed a fraction and lips drawn into a thin line. "Kaveh, please, for the love of the archons, take some better care of yourself."
"...Ah?"
Suddenly, your tone had shifted in the span of a half second, and instead of the angry gaze he had expected, it was more so... scolding. Concern. "Close that jaw of yours, Kaveh, how come you look so surprised? I've told you this time and time again, you need rest!"
An accusing finger was pointed in his direction, the bearer someone he was certainly very familiar with. "Well, it's a big project, I have to finish it by next week and there's barely any time, so I need to-"
"-And how can you possibly plan on functioning if you haven't gotten any sleep?"
Curses, a valid argument. Kaveh slowly held up his empty hands in defeat, chuckling sheepishly. So this was about him, and not you? Thank the archons, for a second he had thought he had messed up big time-
"That look of yours, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking! And, besides..." You glanced at the ground, as if suddenly reluctant to speak another word. "I was waiting for you so we could sleep together..."
...An angel? Was that who was before him?
"I-I'm sorry... I promise I'll take better care of myself and... you won't have to wait for me, tonight. I'll turn in early, love." ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) not all that proud of this one. but here. sigh
reblogs are veryyyy appreciated!! if you liked this fic, please consider following, as im super close to a follower goal id love to hit before new years! thank you.
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling 
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simplydnp · 5 months
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be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june
anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.
you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.
and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.
and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.
they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.
one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.
every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.
the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...
dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.
and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.
you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.
as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.
my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.
i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.
even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.
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cdbabymp3 · 6 months
Note
your writing is so incredible u are feeding the hamzah girls DAILY 😛 currently thinking about if u were friends/mutual friends with him but you always had this sexual tension and then one night u both finally broke…
𐙚needs ― hamzahthefantastic
notes/warnings: nsfw !! THE LONG AWAITED ROOMATE FIC IS HERE !! sexual tension leading to unprotected sex, pretend ur on the pill idk idk! self indulgent height difference between hamzah and reader 🥸 post ovulation clarity is hitting ... pls don't judge me for this i was quite literally in a primal state
listen to the song while reading, thank me later
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yours and hamzah's apartment is quiet. so quiet you can hear the cars pass by, the sound slipping in from the cracked open window. it's been almost 3 days without air conditioning, which isn't ideal for the middle of summer in toronto. because of this, you and hamzah have had no choice but to wear a limited amount of clothing around each other. for you, it's been a thin tank top (so thin you can see the lace detail of your bra through it) and jean shorts (the ones you wore to summer camp freshman year, the material always shorter than you remember). for hamzah, it's been his gym shorts (the extra short ones he wears for lifting that give you a full view of his thick thighs), and a random short-sleeved shirt that hugged his biceps tightly. however, with the increasing heat inside your home, lately he's given up on wearing a shirt. it was a sight nothing could've prepared you for. you kept replaying the moment from earlier over and over in your head, his back muscles flexing as he emptied bags of groceries and stocked the fridge. engulfed by the cold air, hamzah decided to stand in front of the fridge, fully on display as he tried to lower his body temperature. the way he closed his eyes and rolled his neck in relief affected you physically.
this morning, you had to ignore the feeling because you had other things to get done. but now, lying atop your duvet and staring at the ceiling, the feelings finds its way back. you don't want to ignore it anymore. the hot july air, the sound of hamzah typing on the other side of the wall that separates you, the image of his bare torso...it's all too much. you huff, equal parts sexual frustration and annoyance from how hot your apartment was getting. even as the sun goes down, the warm air makes your baby hairs stick to your forehead, something hamzah told you he found cute. he had a way of complimenting you so innocently, yet you always took it as more. in some way, you felt like he wanted you to take it as more. with this notion, you muster up the courage and get out of bed, deciding to go bother hamzah. you exit your room and walk two short steps, approaching his door, which is wide open. the sight before you, even better than this morning, almost causes a guttural noise to leave your mouth. hamzah sat at his desk, shirtless, gym shorts riding up dangerously high, and his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. he's so focused on typing on his computer that he doesn't register your presence whatsoever. you knock on the wall gently, making him turn in his chair with a little squeak and push his glasses up.
"hey," you nod, quickly trying to craft what you want to say next
"oh, hey." he matches your nod, closing his browser and giving you his full attention.
you rub the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and sigh, "i can't do this, i'm dying."
he laughs at your dramatics, picking up his phone from his desk and scrolling through the weather app, "i know, it's getting worse too. it's not supposed to cool down till midnight."
"great." you quip, "what did the landlord say about the A/C?"
"uhhh" hamzah switches on his phone over to messages, "he said the repair guy can't come till monday morning."
you let out a groan, holding your hair up in a makeshift ponytail. you can't help but eye him down and it doesn't go unnoticed. hamzah clears his throat and shifts in his seat, which emits another squeak. you both laugh at the noise and he pretends to be pissed off, getting up from the chair and walking up to you. you suddenly feel overwhelming aware of both of your nearly bare figures being so close to each other. it seems like he's not going to stop walking until he's a mere few inches away. he gestures past where you stand in the doorway and you give him a confused look, but let him past you. he trails down the hall into the kitchen and you follow behind, getting another lovely view of his naked back. like earlier, he swings the fridge door open and lets the cold air hit his exposed skin. he hums in delight, beckoning you by hand to join him. once you're close enough, he sets his cold hands on the warm flesh of your shoulders and moves your figure in front of his, so you're the one directly in front of the fridge.
"good?" he asks, trying to position you in the optimal spot so the air hits your shorter frame.
goosebumps form as the chilled air travels up your arms and legs, reaching your neck and face in the process. it feels fucking amazing, but the fabrics of your top creates an undesired barrier. with his large hands still on your shoulders, the desire for him grows stronger. you bite your lip, choosing to take a risk.
"it's good, but i'm still a little warm." you say with every hope he catches on to your flirting for once.
"yeah," he speaks after a drawn out silence, "it's probably your top."
you try to hide your smirk, but it's useless. "you think?" rhetorical, but it does the trick on him.
hesitantly, his fingers find the hem of your tight tank top and toy with it, "mhm," peeling the the fabric up your stomach and chest, until it's over your head and thrown somewhere on the counter. "see?" his low voice and the newfound stimulation from the coldness hitting your bare torso sends chills down your spine.
you nod adamantly, feeling your heartbeat pick up, the pulse thrumming almost out of your chest. you want this so bad and you're starting to think he does too.
"hamzah" you whisper, turning so you're face to face.
he looks down at you, looking like he's going to say something, but struggles to find the words. you open your mouth to help, but are cutoff by him grabbing your face and kissing you. your eyes widen in pure shock, then shut, feeling his needy hands squeeze at your hips. you attempt to get a handful of his hair to grab, but your height difference makes it hard. even on your tip toes, it's not enough. hamzah takes note of your efforts and crouches down, hands taking hold of the back of your thighs and picking you up. you squeal into the kiss, immediately, arms hooking around his neck and legs wrapping around his lower waist. the fridge still wide open, hamzah turns both of you around. he sets you down on the counter, lips going to your neck and sucking the sensitive skin until you yelp. you rake a hand through his curls, pushing his head lower down your chest. his full lips leave open-mouthed kisses down the tops of your breasts, down your stomach, until he gets to the waist of your jean shorts. he looks up at you, waiting for your approval, to which you give him in the form of an embarrassing whine. he fiddles with the button and zipper of your shorts, sliding them down your legs. once, they're to your ankles, hamzah throws them and they knock over a glass of water on the kitchen table. usually, he'd run over and clean up the spill, but his hunger for you clouded any concern about water on the floor. you can't help but feel relieved by his neediness, no longer ashamed about the things you used to imagine doing with him because you were doing them now. he takes the hem of your underwear and pulls it down, this time you kick the article of clothing off at your ankles. the mixture of the fridge's coolness and hamzah's warm tongue licking a stipe against your heat made your jaw go slack. it wasn't enough for him, though, so he drags your thighs closer to himself, causing you to lay down against the counter. he sucks on your clit, alternating between licking and kissing in the process. you whimper, legs wrapping around his head, heels digging into his bare back to bring him even closer. he pauses for a moment and you swear you could cry from the sudden lack of stimulation. you look up to see him take off his glasses, setting them aside on the counter and going back to work. you can feel the knot in your stomach building, your impending orgasm approaching closer than you expected.
"h-hamzah- ah, wait, wait" you pant, sitting up by your elbows.
he stops, looking up in fear, your arousal coating his chin. the sight alone could make you cum, if you were being fully honest.
"want me to stop?" he wipes his chin, caressing your thigh with his free hand sweetly.
"yeah-no. but i don't wanna cum yet..." you admit, oddly getting shy.
"do you wanna go to my room?" he asks
"please." is all you can spit out as he grabs your hips and gets you off the counter. he kicks the fridge door shut, taking your hand and leading you to his room. once inside, he waits for your next move.
"should i-"
playfully, you push him onto his bed, straddling his waist. you can feel how turned on he is underneath you, telling you everything you need to know. this whole time you thought this infatuation was one-sided....you were dead wrong.
his room his hot, the residual coolness from the fridge leaving both your bodies by the second. this and your unfinished orgasm give you the extra push you need to initiate things quicker, which gets absolutely no complaints from hamzah.
you take off your bra, getting off hamzah for a second so he can take off his shorts and boxers. straddling him once more, you slide down onto his erection. there's little resistance due to your arousal, eliciting a throaty moan from you and hamzah. once you're fully sunken down on him, you grab onto his shoulder and he holds your ass. starting slow, you lift your hips up and down to get into a rhythm. while the motion is nice, it doesn't get you to where you want to go. ideally, you want your first hookup with hamzah to be long and thorough, but you weren't sure how much longer you can handle being without release. you start to rock your hips back and forth, grinding so hard that his pelvic bone hits your clit with each movement you make.
hamzah starts to move your ass as your grind, only making the stimulation more intense. you quicken your pace, if it's even possible, moving back and forth so fast that the headboard of the bed repeatedly hits the wall. the squelching of your arousal with each move you make leaves hamzah in complete awe, feeling his own release chase close behind.
"oh god" you moan, gripping his arms tighter, fingernails digging into his skin and making crescent shapes.
"you got it, baby.... i'm almost there too." he breathes out heavily, helping you keep your pace going as you start to feel weak.
the room feels like it's on fire, both your bodies covered in sweat, hair sticking your foreheads with flushed faces, as you reach your highs together. you scream, feeling yourself come undone on him and he kisses you through it, muffling your noises. his own high follows shortly after, whimpering into the heated kiss.
breaking contact, you're both a panting, sweaty mess. you look at him with half-lidded eyes, wiping a bead of sweat that dribbles down his cheek. you giggle as he moves away the hair that sticks to your face so he can see you all the way.
"so, how long have you been wanting to do that?" he teases, still catching his breath.
"i should ask you the same thing." you fire back
you think he's gonna spout something cocky, but he laughs, "since we signed that fucking lease and moved in here."
you laugh too, covering your face sheepishly, but he takes your wrists in his hands so you can't hide, kissing you with every last ounce of energy he has left.
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running and hiding forever goodbye.
໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo , @sie17136 , @1312006 , @kingvioleta , @hrt-attack , @scarvain , @ldrvinyl , @mochotea , @24kmar
lmk if i missed u or u wanna be tagged, idk why its so hard for me to keep track of tags literally a 5 yr old could do it
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wlntrsldler · 6 months
Text
poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)
a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!
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v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low
all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that. 
sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it. 
maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt. 
but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons. 
luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence. 
on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs. 
he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were. 
he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall. 
“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.” 
“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.” 
“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.” 
“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.” 
mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything. 
you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?” 
it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell? 
with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.” 
“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.” 
you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings. 
you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all. 
after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke. 
clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space. 
she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances. 
you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket. 
“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?” 
“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.” 
you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.” 
“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”
“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.” 
“i don’t think you should.” 
it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you. 
“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?” 
“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.” 
“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.” 
he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.” 
“me too.” 
“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.” 
“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?” 
luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.” 
you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.
luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”
you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?” 
“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?” 
“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.” 
“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.” 
you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.” 
luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.” 
“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.” 
the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string. 
“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.” 
“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.” 
“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you. 
“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”
“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”
luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words. 
“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”
“what does it mean?”
“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”
luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.” 
“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”
“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight. 
“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–” 
he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you. 
is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you? 
the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood. 
luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.” 
an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern. 
“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?” 
you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.
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azrielbrainrot · 6 months
Text
You Take Me Higher
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: What happens when you run into Azriel at a bar after a long mission?
Warnings: Smut, Public Sex
Word Count: 4220
Rating: 18+
Notes: This is basically pwp except it's part of a new universe I'm working on. Still, you can read this as a standalone since there's no actual plot here. I just felt like writing mindless smut since "She Laughs Like You" is so plot heavy. Hope you enjoy <3
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You normally don't come to Rita's, preferring calmer bars to the loud and suffocating club, it's too much of an assault to your senses. But your friends had invited you enough times for you to accept, not wanting to turn them down again. You hadn't seen them in a while after a particularly long mission outside of the Night Court so it was nice to catch up with them even if it meant dealing with the headache that always follows your trips here.
You'd seen the High Lord and his Inner Circle as soon as you arrived. Their commanding presence allowing your eyes to find them immediately among the rest of the club goers. Upon seeing them, seeing him, you almost regretted coming out, not knowing how to act around him outside of work or your escapades and definitely not wanting to do it in front of so many people.
You decide on a simple wave, nodding discreetly at him and the rest of his family, turning your attention back to your now gushing friends after they wave back politely, making sure you didn't linger on his hazel eyes or the unbuttoned silk shirt, keeping up with the “friendly acquaintances” narrative you've crafted for yourselves. Intending on keeping away from him for the rest of the night.
Azriel seemed to have a different idea as he signaled for you to follow him not even an hour later. And, as soon as you excused yourself from your friends and stepped out into the hallway, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and discreetly guiding you through a back door, to a dark alley behind the popular bar. Your back was against the wall and his lips on yours, hands roaming all over your body, before you could even question him or get a good glimpse at him under the moonlight.
“Azriel,” you whine, trying to get his attention away from your neck, where he has been leaving tiny bites followed by soothing open-mouthed kisses, effectively making you lose your mind. Your hand tightens around his collar at a particularly hard bite, one you're sure left the imprint of his sharp canines on your supple skin.
Just when you were about to call out to him once more, thinking he didn't hear you or was choosing to ignore you, the shadowsinger finally lets out a hum against the column of your throat, at last acknowledging you were trying to talk to him.
You swallow before speaking, trying to get rid of the dryness in your mouth. This backfires as it only makes him use his grip on the back of your neck to pull you even closer to him when he feels the movement, and a moan leaves your mouth before you find your words.
“Someone could see us,” you push through the desire steadily building inside you, trying to be the voice of reason, but you barely get the words out as he keeps nibbling on the soft skin of your throat, making you struggle to hold onto your composure.
When he simply lets out another amused hum before continuing to mark up your neck - to the point you're not sure the glamour magic you can use will be enough for covering them up - you tangle your fingers around the strands of dark hair and pull hard, effectively getting his attention. He grunts softly but allows you to move him away from your neck, and you're finally able to meet his eyes for the first time since he's taken you to the alley.
Your heart stalls in your chest when you take him in. Pupils blown out behind half-lidded eyes, the beautiful hazel almost imperceptible in the midst of all the desire. Dark hair messy, falling into his eyes, and shirt half undone from your tight grip on his collar, the illyrian marks you've grown to love peaking through. He was breathing heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as he took advantage of the break you've given him to catch his breath.
The sight almost makes you forget your protests, brain going numb at the raw hunger reflected on his face. He's always been mesmerizing, you've been caught by his beauty ever since the first time you met him all those decades ago, but in moments like these you sometimes have trouble believing he's even real. He's like a God walking among mortals.
Azriel smirks when he notices your eyes glazing over and your scent deepening with arousal, taking the opportunity and leaning down for another, slower but equally passionate kiss. He's been so focused on your neck that he barely even tasted you since you've been outside. He wants to take his time with you for a moment.
Your mouth opens for him immediately, melting into him and releasing the grip you had on his dark locks in favor of grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you, needing to feel all of him while he explores your mouth.
Eventually, you break the dizzying kiss again, your senses catching up to you in between the desire fogging up the air. He lets out a sound suspiciously similar to a whine and leans his forehead against yours, barely moving a breath away from your lips. Resigned to hear what you have to say before being able to continue indulging in your enticing taste.
“We'll get caught if we stay here,” you whisper, lips brushing against his soft ones with every word.
You needed to keep your head leveled, wanting to avoid getting caught in such a risky position by any of the drunk party goers or, even worse, your High Lord. You don't even let yourself wonder what anyone would think if they found you tangled up with someone who is technically your superior, outside of a bar of all places. You'd both be in a lot of trouble.
“I won't let anyone see us,” he assures, and as the words leave his mouth, the dark shadows always accompanying him start swirling around the both of you, as if corroborating the statement. “I can keep us well hidden.” He finishes the sentence with a chaste peck on your lips and moves back to look into your eyes, searching for any doubts and waiting to see your response. Always so respectful even in the throes of pleasure.
You bite your lip, holding his gaze as you realize what he's implying. It's not that you would consider yourself a prude by any means but you've never done anything like this in public. Well, aside from the first night that started it at all, but the circumstances had been completely different then. Drunk fae could stumble out through the back door at any moment here, it could even be one of your friends or his. There was no anonymity in one of the most popular bars in Velaris. This might be the most irresponsible thing you'd do.
And, as much as that's true, you can't deny the heat spreading in your belly at the suggestion, the wetness pooling between your legs.
Azriel is looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you're more than aware of his abilities, of the delicious pleasure he can bring you. He wouldn't lie to you either, if he promised he'd keep you hidden then you know he will follow through with it. You'd trust him with anything.
Without the danger of really getting caught, what's stopping you from letting this irresistible male have his way with you right here? You'd be a fool to deny him and yourself the pleasure.
Your lips are back on his before you can talk yourself out of it, wrapping your arms fully around his neck and letting him take charge. He gets the message quickly, grabbing your waist and pressing you against him, letting you feel his bulge on your stomach, so close to where you need him most, making you both moan into the kiss.
Azriel has never been anything short of passionate when fucking you, always giving it his all and completely drowning you in mind boggling pleasure, but today he's acting differently. His rough touch is hungrier, greedier, as if he couldn't get enough of you no matter how much he took. It feels like he's untamed in his desire and it just so happens that he desires to have you.
His hands move all over your body, soon finding their way under your dress so he can grab at your thighs and pull you closer. You let yours wander down his chest, taking advantage of the mostly unbuttoned shirt, raking your nails softly over the tan skin.
When he abandons your mouth and starts leaving kisses down your jaw, moving to the slowly healing love bites, you notice the shadows have thoroughly covered you when you try to look around, suddenly aware of the loud music.
They're acting as a protective barrier to the outside world, the same way they hide him when he's in enemy territory fulfilling his Spymaster duties. Any last bit of remaining doubt evaporated with the realization. He's never been caught after all.
You let your head fall back against the brick wall, letting out a breath that soon turns into a moan when he bites into your throat hard at the same time his hand finds your folds, teasing the sensitive skin through the drenched fabric of your panties. Feeling him grin against your skin at the reaction he pulled from you.
“Always so ready for me,” he praises and then licks a stripe up your throat, tilting your head further back to reach your chin and connect your mouths once again. You accept him greedily, grinding down on his hand, needing him to touch you properly.
After all the attention he's been giving you and the thought of trying something new with the enticing male, your underwear is absolutely soaked through and you need him to take responsibility for it already. You feel like you'd been doused with hot oil.
Thankfully, he seems to take pity on you, pushing your panties to the side, moving up and down to gather some wetness before slowly starting to circle your clit in time with each lick of his tongue into your mouth.
He's swallowing the desperate sounds trying to escape past your lips and your nails start to dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. You'd be embarrassed at how close you already were if this wasn't Azriel. Each stroke of his scarred thumb against your sensitive clit was taking you higher.
He stops his movements as if sensing how close you were. You were about to protest when he also breaks the kiss, needing him to keep touching you, but hold your tongue when he pushes your dress up to your waist, exposing your soaked underwear to the cold night air. He curses softly as your scent reaches him.
“Keep this up for me, pretty.” His voice was deeper, rough with pleasure and restraint.
Your body catches up to the order before your mind has the chance to, doing as you're told and holding onto your dress so he can have an unobstructed view of you. He breathes out a “good” without ever taking his eyes off the wet fabric clinging to your folds, the praise and need in his eyes only adding fuel to the fire burning inside you.
Azriel gets down on his knees between your legs, now eye level with your cunt as he pulls the panties right to the side, his other hand reaching up, encouraging you to part your thighs so he can feast on the mouth watering sight in front of him.
You can't help the cocky smirk when he lets out a low groan at the sight. You had bought the white skimpy lace in hopes he'd be taking it off, you just couldn't have predicted it would be happening in a dark alley behind this bar.
He looks up at you then, holding your gaze as he leans closer to your heat, licking you from hole to clit, making a show of moaning at the taste. Your hands move to grab at his hair instantly, letting your mouth fall open in a silent moan as he repeats the action.
Your legs threaten to give out when he starts kissing and sucking, not wasting a single drop of your wetness. His thumb circles your hole as he moves to tongue at your clit, swirling it around once, twice before his finger is filling you up.
He throws one of your thighs over his shoulder, diving into your cunt. Soon adding another finger and pumping both into you, getting you ready for him. You start grinding your hips against his face, chasing his fingers, his mouth, the mind numbing feeling he's giving you. He hums into you, the vibrations making you tremble and let out an embarrassing mewl of his name.
You don't know how he can have this effect on you, this male could probably make you melt into a puddle with a simple look. He pulls away with a harsh suck so he can watch his fingers move in and out of you, can watch the wetness almost dripping down your legs and his wrist, replacing his tongue with a scarred thumb, the rough texture so different from his wet tongue, adding an extra bite to the pleasure.
You only notice your head was thrown back against the wall, eyes closed as you chase your orgasm, when you hear him call your name. Eyes moving down to meet his dark ones again.
“I need you to cum on my fingers so I can fuck you, alright?” You nod, half delirious already, even though he's barely gotten his hands on you. You'd do anything he told you to.
It doesn't take long before a familiar knot starts tightening in your lower belly, your walls clenching around his fingers. He starts nibbling at the soft skin of your thigh, leaving marks similar to the ones decorating your neck and chest. Mumbling sweet praises against your skin, words you can't even focus on with the blood rushing through your ears.
Your orgasm catches you by surprise, making you almost lose your balance as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth opens in a silent scream, hands trying to find purchase on his shoulders and his hair, forgetting about the dress and holding onto his instead. His hand abandons your clit so he can grab onto your waist, helping you stay up.
He keeps his fingers moving slowly as you come down from your high, breathing heavily and letting out soft gasps. As your mind clears up, he leans over to leave one last kiss against your heat before taking his fingers out carefully and standing up. Grabbing your chin so he can kiss you once more, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
You pull away with a tug on his lip. The orgasm only made you hungrier, you wanted to feel him inside you, stretching you out. “I need your cock, Az.”
“So greedy,” he moans, though you can't figure out if disapprovingly or otherwise. He moves one hand to start unbuttoning his pants so he can free his painful erection at last. You follow the movement, saliva gathering in your mouth involuntarily at the tantalizing sight of his hard, leaking cock. He pumps his fist around it, relieving some of the need. You swallow, moving up to meet his gaze when you feel the intensity of his stare.
He's probably thinking the same thing as you. Remembering how his heavy cock feels against your wet tongue, moving down your throat. You see him grab the base of his cock harder, internally debating if he wants to let you suck him off or fuck you. Your cunt clenches at the thought and apparently the sentiment is clear on your face, the desire written there enough for him to make his decision as he grabs onto the back of your thighs, lifting you up against the wall.
The movement has his cock press right against you, feeling the hardness slide across your sensitive heat. You grab hold of him, not resisting giving him one teasing stroke before guiding him to your hole, needing to have him inside you desperately.
Azriel starts pushing in slowly, stretching you out deliciously. It doesn't matter how many times he fucks you, it will always take you by surprise. You've never had anyone fill you up so well, it almost seemed impossible how he even fit inside you sometimes.
He takes his time filling you up, knowing your body well enough to recognize any twinge of discomfort. In this position, it feels like he can go in deeper, the angle hitting every sensitive spot.
When he finally bottoms out, Azriel presses his whole body against yours, holding you up with his own hips and moving one of his hands over your chest so he can tug the front of the dress down and give your neglected breasts some attention as you adjust to him.
You can feel your walls flutter around his cock, moaning out his name when his mouth finds its way over one of your nipples.
Feeling more than ready for him, you push your hips against him, urging him to finally fuck you. He chokes out a breath, taking a vengeful bite at your nipple, as you move yourself on him, pulling his hips back to thrust back into you, feeling you clench around him. His mouth abandons your chest and meets yours again, hands tightening around your waist as his thrusts' rhythm increases.
It's like all the hunger from before comes back tenfold, his grip most likely bruising your skin as the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other fills the alleyway, your moans rising in tempo with each snap of his hips.
Just as you start losing yourself in the pleasure, one of his hands comes up to cover your mouth. You still let out a muffled whine when he slows down to warn you, whispering in your ear, “The barrier the shadows create isn't completely soundproof. You need to be quiet for me.” You whine in response, making him add, “Alright?”
You almost forgot where you were, and that anyone could walk by you at any moment, but in the heat of desire, the fact only makes you wetter, hips moving of their own accord against him, prompting him to pick up the pace.
“You said we wouldn't get caught.” The last thing you want to focus on right now is to keep quiet when he's making you feel so good.
“We won't,” he moves back to look into your eyes, “Unless you want us to.”
Maybe it's the drinks from before or the way his cock throbs inside you, but you almost wish someone would see you, so they would know you're the one this bewitching male chooses to fuck, you're the one making him cum time and time again, it's your name he moans out in pleasure.
The possessive feeling coils around your heart, a feeling you have no right to have. You have no sort of claim over him after all, but luckily he doesn't let your linger in such thoughts, and starts fucking you hard and fast again, effectively pushing all thoughts out of your mind.
“Gods, you feel fucking perfect,” he growls against your ear, making you let out a long muffled moan. He draws his cock out almost completely before slamming back into you, just so he can hear the gasp that still escapes through his fingers, before picking up the pace again, keeping to shallow thrusts.
His hand moves from your mouth eventually, confident you won't scream too loud, or simply not caring if you do anymore. Both of you get lost in the feeling of each other, tongues battling inside your mouth, your hands roaming all over his shoulders, coming up to tangle in his silky hair. Time almost stands still around the two of you as you hide in his shadows, completely separated from the outside world.
You start getting closer, and knowing you won't be able to hold out for much longer but wanting him to finish with you, you move your trembling hand down his back, finding the raised skin where his wings meet his back and tease them over his shirt.
Illyrians are extremely protective of their wings and you know how sensitive they are, so when he let you touch them around their base for the first time, you were more than flattered even though you can't fully run your fingers over the leathery skin yet, and you're almost sure this isn't the most sensitive spot. You know this is a big step for him, considering all the trust issues you've seen him display, so you don't mind being patient.
Your fingers barely make contact before he's growling and his pace falters, nails digging into your skin. You'd caught him off guard, but he recovers too fast, pushing you even harder into the wall and speeding up, fully intent on making you both fall over the edge now.
“I'm so close,” you breathe out, feeling yourself right at the precipice.
“Me too,” his thrusts turn even more erratic, confirming his words. And with another snap of his hips, you're falling over the edge, moaning out his name with no care for who hears it.
He follows you soon after, thrusting deeper and grinding into you, pumping you full of his cum as the both of you ride out the mind numbing orgasms. You don't remember the last time you came so hard, every nerve on your body is alive with pleasure, if it hadn't been for his hold on you, you don't think you would have been able to stay up.
His lips find your pulse point after a bit, leaving soft kisses around as you massage his scalp, watching with amusement as his wings twitch softly. You would stay in this position for the rest of time if you could, everything just falls into place in these soft moments between you two.
Unfortunately, you get a stark reminder of your surroundings when you hear the back door open, the music filtering through it. You tense immediately, suddenly hyper aware of your compromising position. Azriel leans away from your neck to look into your eyes, his serene expression and the way his wings cocoon around both of you calming you down.
Just as he promised, whoever stumbled out of the bar didn't even suspect you were hidden in the shadows, walking out onto the main street as if they were alone. When you don't hear any footsteps anymore, you let your head fall back against the wall, finally relaxing and breathing a soft, “Fuck.”
He watches you for a moment before speaking up. “We need to get out of here. People are starting to leave,” he tells you, a glimpse of amusement behind his words.
You nod in agreement, knowing he's right but, even after your scare, still hesitant to let go of him, reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours and his soft touch for as long as possible.
The longer you've been sleeping together, the harder it is to accept that outside of the bedroom you're nothing more than acquaintances, you wouldn't even call him your friend. Aside from moments like this or the rare occasion of running into him when you're working, you don't see or talk to him at all.
You always find yourself missing him, not only his body. That's something you need to hide from him, the implications would be enough to have him call off this agreement between you. There is no space for feelings in it, both of you made it very clear from the beginning. You should do yourself a favor and end it before the fluttering of your heart morphs into something more dangerous but you can't bring yourself to even consider it.
He pulls out of you gently, none the wiser to the internal conflict raging inside you. Getting you down from his hold and carefully helping you stand on unsteady legs, muscles still spasming faintly. A rag appears through his shadows and he helps you clean yourself up with it before even worrying about himself, making sure your dress falls back into place as well. You were truly playing a losing game with him. How could you not fall for Azriel?
When you're both decent enough, he calls his shadows off and you put up a glamour around yourself, hopefully masking his male scent clinging to your skin.
“I need to find my friends and let them know I'm leaving.” You try to think of excuses, knowing they'll know you're running off with someone but praying they can't figure out who.
He nods at you, looking over your body with an indecipherable look in his eyes as he takes note of his marks disappearing. “I'll wait for you here.”
“What?”
“My family is used to me sneaking off in the middle of outings,” a smirk grows on his face as he adds, “And I'm not done with you quite yet.”
taglist: @tinymarklee
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Who doesn't love a perfectly preserved time capsule? This 1968 beauty in Rockford, IL is like stepping back in time. 4bds, 4ba, $450K.
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The small entrance has tiled flooring to protect the carpet that runs all through the house.
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Why is it always green? This was a dramatic home when it was new- stone fireplace, sunken living room, and wrought iron railings were the height of fashion.
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The living area is huge. Note the large stone bench matching the fireplace and the cornice boards that discreetly hide the unsightly curtain rods.
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The fireplace stone continues and has a huge mirror. In the corner is shelving and 2 steps up to the dining room.
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The dining room has dated curtains that the buyer will inherit. I love the kitty-corner table. That was a common placement in mid-century style.
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Next comes the kitchen. Actually, they must've updated it b/c I don't think that 2-tone cabinets were a thing yet. But, the ditzy, small, busy print of the wallpaper with matching shades was definitely the style. Note the original avocado dishwasher and dust shelving above the upper cabinetry, that was later replaced by soffits.
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Wait a minute, I'm seeing props here- there's a new dishwasher and new ovens, but they kept the old avocado ones. I wonder if they work or, if it's just nostalgia. There are also 2 cooktops. Wow, they really preserved everything.
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Look at the green glass.
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Large laundry room off the kitchen.
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Oh, look, an avocado washer/dryer set. This is amazing. And, look at the old sink. I hope someone who loves it, buys it, b/c it was so lovingly cared for.
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Nice large everyday dining area has a pony wall separating the family room. So much green everywhere. I wonder if this set came that way or if they painted it.
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Another stone fireplace flanked by shelving. Knotty pine walls, and folding shutter doors- all fashions of the past. I can't believe that they have the Colonial furniture that was so popular at the time. Even though it was all the rage, you don't see it around anymore. According to the listing, there is going to be an estate sale, so this furniture will be available.
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The primary bedroom is pretty big. Geez, there's carpeting everywhere and some of it is looking gnarly.
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It has an en-suite, which is unusual. Look at that fancy cabinet. Green laminate counter, too.
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This bedroom is also pretty big. Look at the consummate girl's white bedroom furniture of the mid-century.
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The den has a big old map probably with countries that don' t even exist anymore.
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More bedrooms on the 2nd fl.
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Oh, look at that! A hope chest! They were popular for a teenage girl to receive as a gift. Then, she would put in blankets, etc., in the hopes of one day getting married and using them. I can't get over the historic furniture in this place.
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And, then they've got a big family room up here. Wow, this house has so much furniture and tchotchkes.
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Winter? No problem. Just set the lawn furniture up in the basement.
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There's also a finished part of the basement. This is a craft room, and there is also a canning room.
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Look at the antique freezer on the right. This place is a museum.
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This part of the basement isn't finished even though it has a brick fireplace. No matter, they still used it as a family room, anyway.
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According to the listing, this is a 2 car garage, called a "cottage garage," b/c I guess it looks like a residence.
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This cool log cabin on the property is used as a playhouse, according to the listing.
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Yeah, but look at it, it's really a residence.
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There's a lot of land, 3.50 acres.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6151-Newburg-Rd-Rockford-IL-61108/5537324_zpid/
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