#the rendering's so thick and creamy

[aurorawritestoescape]

FLAT LINE || dark!Dave York x f!reader || 800

18+ mdni DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non con, smut

creator chose not to use all the warnings

*****

His obsidian eyes are boring into yours, as you’re thrashing and wriggling, completely naked, while his hand on your throat is holding you pressed to the bed. Your legs are getting tangled tighter and tighter in the cold sheets, soaked with your and your boyfriend’s sweat and cum.

You two were having one of those nights, drinking, smoking and fucking on a loop until this monster slithered into your house and took a shot. Only one for now but you’re sure there’ll be one more.

You’re trying to push him off with your trembling hands, eyes darting between his bloodcurdling stare and the splatter of blood on your wrist. Soon you focus only on them as your mind tries to save you from seeing the whole picture-you’re dying tonight.

The killer lets go your throat, you cough and then try to scream but like in a nightmare nothing comes out of your burning throat.

When he’s done condescending you with this joke of a fight he grabs your hands and cuffs you to the bed. You haven’t done this with your boyfriend tonight but the images of him tying you up a few times before emerge from your memory and you gush more.

As if sensing this pathetic reaction of your body, the man spreads your legs and leers at your puffy cunt.

“You’ve had a fun night, sweetheart?”

His tone is calm, static like a flat line and your heart seems to stop beating, as if already giving up.

His fingers easily slip inside your stretched hole and you jerk and try to kick him off. The killer grabs your ankles and holds them pressed to his shoulder, one big hand is enough to keep your legs together.

He renders you completely helpless, hands chained to the bed, legs bound by his strong grip.

His fingers return to your hole and he pushes them deep into you, with the same cold dead eyes.

“How many times did he come inside you tonight?”

You mewl at the question, staring up at him, vision blurry with tears.

He quickly pushes your legs off his shoulder and holds them up. You squeal even before he slaps your cunt with the back of his hand. Hard. It burns like hell but your whole body buzzes as the stroke sends a wave of arousal from your overstimulated clit to every cell in your body.

“How…many?” He slowly repeats the question and you hurry to reply, scared of another hit.

“Three”

“Good,” he says and gently rubs your swollen pussy.

You half moan, half cry out as your walls contract at his touch.

He breathes in sharply when a trickle of creamy liquid flows out of your hole.

“She’s all used up and filled to the brim. Lovely.”You hear him say quietly and to your horror he opens his pants with a free hand and pulls out his cock. It’s hard and huge and you whine a pathetic ‘please’ which he leaves completely unnoticed.

He sits on his knees and then gets on top of you, your ankles still in his hand, caging your legs between his body and yours.

The killer plunges in fast and hard, quickly parting your walls with his thick long cock. He’s bigger than your boyfriend and you feel a sting of the stretch.

The man moans over you, pleasure twisting his face, very close to yours now. Hearing him you can’t stop your pussy from squeezing his length.

“So much cum, sweetheart. Feel it pouring out?My balls are soaked,” He whispers against your cheek, his soft lips tickling you.

“Please,” you mewl once again and once again it stays unnoticed.

He lets go of your legs and you don’t have time to react before he manhandles you into a mating-press, bracing his elbows on the bed by your shoulders and starts pounding into you. Your abused cunt burns at first but all the cum inside quickly turns the pain into pleasant stimulation and you chew on your swollen lips.

He growls and roars over your heated face and you squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment hearing your pussy squelch loudly as his cock churns your boyfriend’s cum inside your cunt.

“Can she take one more?” You hear him growl and open your eyes in fear. If he comes soon it means you have only seconds.

“Please, please, let me go… don’t k…” his palm slaps over your mouth and he bites your cheek, making you squeal into his hand.

“Shut up. Daddy’s coming.”

A few more thrusts and you see him close his eyes as he stills while his warmth is spilling inside you. Then he rolls his hips, spurting his seed again and again until you’re so full of cum you feel it press on your walls already stretched out by his cock.

When he seems to be done, his lips brush against your stinging cheek and you feel cold metal pressed to your temple.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” is the last thing you hear.

*****

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs will make my praise kink go brrrr!

No tag list for this one. If you’d like to be tagged in my dark fics, let me know♥️

[morallyinept]

Ring Toss - A Frankie Morales One Shot 🍩

Summary: Frankie comes home with a box of treats, just for you.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x GN!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 2.5k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶🌶 "It's the emergence, of."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit: Oral, M receiving/mild dirty talk. Delicious food porn with Frankie. What else is there to say?

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don't come at me; you've been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author's Note: Frankie and donuts... 🤤 Dedicated to lovely @secretelephanttattoo 🍩😘

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The box of sweet, sticky treats is calling your name.

You can’t resist them. Nu-uh, no way. Your one weakness and he knows it.

You pout up at him, trying to be riled, but the smirk on his tan face blooms across those luscious pink lips of his, and despite you wanting to slap it off of his chops at his gall of tempting you - you know you can't resist his sweet face either under that patchy scruff.

“I’m on a diet.” You scowl at him, trying not to smirk back.

“Screw the diet, hermosa. You can have one, right?” Frankie shrugs, looming in front of you.

“Noooo. It’ll undo all the hard work I did at the gym today.” You whine. The ache in your calves reminds you to hold strong. And maybe not go so hard on the cross trainer next time...

Frankie scoffs, holding the box out to you and you continue to refuse the sugary, deep-fried treats that are inside ganging up on and leering at you.

You can smell them. Oh God. It's like he's opened up Pandora’s Box and colourful sprinkles and sticky, creamy glazes are calling out to you; luring you in like a Siren song only you can hear.

Hijo de puta!

“I got 'em fresh. I got the custard ones, I know they’re your favourite.” Frankie insists with a tempting pink purse of his lips.

“You did?” You ask leaning forward to peer into the box.

Yep, there they were; oozing and sticky with that thick gloop leaking out of one of them like it had been shot and was bleeding out its vanillary insides.

No, stop it!

“Yeah.” He nods, smiling pleasantly down at you from under that well worn in cap; his messy curls rioting behind his ears. Deep brown eyes penetrate you with a beguiling simmer laced around them.

It was really sweet of him, touching. He knows what you like and how to make you happy. It's the little things Frankie does that give you the constant heart eyes for him.

The way he holds open the passenger side door for you on his beat up Pickup, and always takes your hand as you step out like you're his queen.

The way he always greets you when you come home from work with a swamping, lingering kiss, pushing you up agaisnt the back of the door, readily equipped with his large hands squeezing and groping at your body affectionately, before you've even said hello to one another.

The way he stops off on the way home from his group therapy sessions on a Thursday, to grab a box of fresh donuts from Dough Boyz, and ensures your favourites are plentiful.

Frankie smiles with tempting, molten eyes. Big browns out on full display. That same puppy-dog look he gives you which renders you absolute mush at his feet, usually.

“I hate you.” You shake your head. The pout is back and it's staying put. Much like your stony resistance.

“You hate me, huh?” Frankie baulks with a tinkling chuckle as he scratches at his scruff under his chin.

You fold your arms, sinking back into the couch and refusing him, trying to watch the TV - anything to distract you away from that heady, saccharine scent that wafts from the forbidden box of calorific delights.

“Suit yourself, muñeca. More for me.” Frankie says casually, tossing the box on the coffee table.

“I hope you get fat!” You call to him playfully as he saunters off towards the kitchen, his laugh echoing around you.

"You want a coffee?" He calls back.

"No, thanks," you humpf in response.

He leaves it there, lid open whilst he goes into the kitchen. You glance at it; your eyes darting back and forth at the temptation of sticking your fingers in and selecting the one that oozes with that yellowy-golden custard you long to taste cloying around your gums.

It's a test. You know it. Leave it open to tempt and twist you into finally submitting, and then Frankie would walk in to catch you red-handed and to see half of them snarffed up; crumbs mottled down your top and smeared sugar constellations across your cheeks.

Oh, he is such an asshole!

Frankie pads back into the lounge after a few minutes with his coffee and sits on the sofa adjacent to you, putting his long legs up on the coffee table and crossing them at the ankles. He reaches forward for a donut.

You watch as his dexterous, thick fingers pry a glazed ring out of the box, and he sits back into the cushions getting comfortable, bringing it up to his mouth.

Oh, it's like watching a filthy, X-rated porno.

How those plush, pink lips would part and he’d bite into the dough, licking his lips free of the sticky glaze. Shrapnels of glaze getting stuck in the fuzz of his moustache.

He watches the TV absentmindedly whilst he feasts quietly, unaware you want to launch the box of sugary treats at his head for bringing them here, the shithead.

But you want one, you soooo want one.

No! I worked hard this week. No treats!

But one won’t hurt.

You can’t just have one though, can you?!

But he brought you custard donuts, he loves you.

Fuck!

His dark eyes flick towards yours and you look away as he brings his coffee back up to his lips and smirks.

You try to invest yourself into whatever the heck it is rolling across the TV screen, but the overwhelming scent of sugar, and the sound of him smacking his lips together, soon draws your attention away again.

Frankie sucks his fingers slowly; the squeaking wet sounds of them popping out of his lewd mouth, before he runs his tongue around his teeth, sounds like it's gunfire inside your ears, thundering.

Loud enough for you to know the bastardo is doing it on purpose. Louder than the steam coming out of your ears.

Fuck that fucking fucker!

Your willpower is waning as you stare at the box of donuts on the coffee table taunting and seducing you.

No, I'm not going to give in. He wants me to and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. Nope!

You glance at Frankie and he's watching you again with those dark chocolate eyes. “Just have one, you know you want to.” He tempts you.

Yeah, all he needs is a horned tail and a pitchfork, right?

“That’s not the point, I can’t have one. You know I can’t.” You sulk, shaking your head.

“Why? Because you went to the gym? One donut isn’t going to fucking hurt, hermosa.” He scoffs, chuckling.

You turn away again. “You don’t get it.”

“Hey, I’m all for keeping fit, but a treat now and again in moderation is good, baby.” He smiles. "You've earned it."

You shake your head trying to ignore him.

“You’re really gonna resist?” Frankie questions.

You nod. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Well alright.” He sighs, admitting defeat.

You watch the TV again, smouldering away. You then see him reach forward and put his coffee cup down on the table in your peripherals.

He reaches into the box, with those wandering fingers once more. The one he pulls out is a plain one; the sister of the previous he'd just devoured.

He eyes it and then puts it back and reaches for another that takes his fancy instead; this time choosing one with sprinkles scattered across the pink, shiny glaze.

He sits back into the cushions again and looks darkly at you.

“You really won’t eat this?” Frankie questions.

“No.” You shake your head again feeling your brain rattle inside your skull.

“But what if I really want you to eat it, to enjoy it? I mean, I brought these as a reward for how well you’ve been doing lately at the gym… what a waste.” He sighs, shaking his head. He pouts at you too, those thick lips pursed out.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me, Morales? It’s not working.” You confirm, frowning.

"Ya lo veremos..." Frankie sighs with a slick smile.

"Stop it," you warn.

You watch him put the donut between his lips and then let go; it balances precariously between those plumpy, pink smackers and his fuzzy moustache.

With his hands, he simply reaches down, undoes the buckle on his belt, the button on his jeans, and then unzips his fly.

You watch, with widening eyes, as he pulls out his cock and pumps it a few times in his fist.

You can hear him groan around the donut hanging out of his mouth; eyes rolling back as he acqaints himself with his thick, swelling dick.

Oh shit...

He jerks on his cock; little wheezed breaths pelting out of his chest, until he's fully hard and rigid in his hand.

He looks at you the whole time he's doing it too.

“What... are you doing?” You baulk at him, feeling hot prickles dance on the back of your neck. The heat flares all over your body and you clench your fist around the throw over the couch you're sitting on.

He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively with a small shrug of his shoulders, unable to speak with the donut hanging out of his mouth; his saliva starting to melt the glaze that he can feel pooling in the corners.

Frankie then takes the donut from his mouth, licking crudely at his lips, and simply places it over his stiff cock. Sliding his thick member through the hole tightly in the centre, and pushes it down as far as it will go without breaking.

The donut rubber-rings itself around him and he lets go. His cock stands up right, fully hard and bobbing two and fro a little with the weight of the donut around it.

You swallow hard as he sits there waiting for you expectantly. He rests his arms over the top of his head; eyes peering darkly at you from under the rim of his cap. He juts his hips forward, challenging you brazenly.

Frankie's smirk is widening, and your cheeks are turning more red as the seconds wear on. Red with fury, red with abject need...

Oh, you son of a b-

“Frankie-”

“Eat it,” he encourages with an ever-widening grin and beckons you over with two fingers. "Come here."

You sigh, and then giggle in unison with him as he chuckles.

"You're such an ass."

“Come on,” he rouses, wiggling his hips from side to side and his cock rocks, life buoyed inside the donut and bites his lip suggestively.

You stand up, completely caving; a sound escaping you similar to a bear disturbed from their hibernation, and make your way towards him, utterly burning up now.

Yeah, he’s totally done a number on you alright.

“You’re gonna make a mess all over your jeans.” You roll your eyes.

He shakes his head. “You’d better eat it quickly then before it sticks.” Frankie teases as you approach him.

He runs his pointer finger around the orbit of the donut, in the pink glaze, and sucks it into his mouth.

"Mmm," he quips and klaxons sound in your ears.

“You’re such a bad influence,” you remark to him, trying to resist his allure.

He pulls you forward by your wrists and your face meets his. “It’s why you love me.” He purrs before he kisses you.

"I do, damnit." You sigh.

His lips are sweetly tasting and you suck on his bottom lip, sampling the crusted glaze and groan in delight at the sugar rush of it.

You reach down to feel his swollen head poking out the top of the donut oozing. You suck your fingers and they are sweetly swirled with the donut glaze and that salty glaze all of his own that beads from the slit.

“You taste really good.” You murmur to him.

“Oh, I know,” Frankie smirks. “You should have more of me, hermosa.” He incites.

You kneel down between his legs and crane forward. Looking up at him, you take a gentle bite from the donut, and he bites his lip again watching you.

Oh, it tastes fucking better than you could have imagined.

Your fingers are scratching inside the soft, downy hairs of his thighs into his groin as he thrusts his hips out a little more towards you.

The donut tastes fantastic, and you make sure to allow your lips to brush over him now and again, making him gasp and shudder.

Yeah, now it's your turn to tease the fuck out of him.

The gummy taste of the glaze coates him and sticks to his skin; you eat more of the donut from around his cock, savouring it. It's a sticky sweet mess that makes you whine. Makes you sweat. Makes your head swim and your sex pulse in desire and need.

"That's it, baby. Eat it all up..." Frankie encourages.

You scoff the donut around him, slowly revealing more of his impressive and hard cock that you long to devour.

Thick, veiny and so fucking hard. A beautifully flushed head that drips and throbs as you run your tongue over it, tasting every morsel of that sticky syrup.

Your body clenches and drools in response.

"Mmm," he croons, smiling.

Frankie runs his hands through your hair as you finish it; crumbs from the dough dotted around his length and dappled in the fuzzy short hairs at the base of him as you swallow your last mouthful of the wondrous treat.

His eyes burn into yours as he watches you lick up the side of his shaft where the glaze is stuck in wet globules, and you feel his cock pulse in response.

“Yeah…” He whispers, keenly and nodding at what's to come. "Suck it."

You open your mouth as you get to the top, placing him inside and you swallow him down.

“Fuck!” Frankie whines out; his head thrown back against the couch cushions as you give him that sweet, succulent head that he craves.

Your fingers claw into his thighs as you bob up and down, head stuffed inside his lap, sucking him clean. You lick and kiss the whole length of him. Tonguing around the head like a popiscle, licking up the thick vein on the underside of his shaft, and slurping him down deeper into the trenches of your throat.

You feel him put a gentle pressure on the back of your head; he wants you to deep throat him, to take him in all the way. To choke and gag on him as that frothy spittle hangs from your lips.

He grunts out as you do it; swallowing his thick, tasty cock deep inside your throat and pressing your nose against the skin above his groin.

You inhale him in, sighing in satisfaction as you do. You love the taste of him, the fullness of him. The way he packs you out around your cheeks.

He feels you heave around him and hisses out as the back of your throat squeezes around him.

"Eso se siente tan jodidamente bien, no pares..." he groans with a silky hiss.

Frankie pulls out and you gasp for air; crystal saliva strings dangling from his swollen head to your mouth.

He pulls you up and kisses you; tasting the donut, tasting himself and smirking at you.

Sucking on your tongue, Frankie whines and your body is burning up. You're craving more. The sugar rush floods through your veins making your fingers shake.

"More, baby." Frankie encourages. "You're so fucking good at that."

He lets go of you and you go back to sucking him off. Holding the base of him steady, and he throws his hands up again behind his capped head, shuffling down the couch a little; enjoying the show of you taking him in.

Hungry for it, hungry for him. Basking in that candy coated wonderland of that sweet tasting cock.

You work his shaft, pumping as you go to really get him going; massaging his balls that are aching to release, and give him plenty of eye contact as he watches you mouth on him.

“Fuck, baby I’m gunna come…” Frankie gasps; his thighs twitching and shaking as he releases, filling your mouth with that delicious, thick custard of his own.

He tastes so fucking good.

He watches, enthralled, as you swallow it all down, licking your lips and sucking your fingers afterwards.

“Yum,” you murmur at him with a wink.

Frankie smiles at you through flushed cheeks and blissed out brown eyes like he's high, utterly beside himself in post-coital dumbness for a few beats.

You promptly stand up and turn to the box on the coffee table, plucking out that weeping custard donut, and sit back in your spot on the adjacent couch and bite into it.

Frankie chortles loudly; cock and balls still out as you devour that delicious custard treat without any ounce of guilt.

"Knew you couldn't resist." He chants.

"You play dirty, Morales." You say around a mouthful and it's heavenly.

"Always, hermosa."

Yeah, one or two donuts won’t hurt, right?

I really hope you enjoyed reading this tasty treat with Frankie. If you did, please consider re-blogging this so others can also have their fill. I'd love to know your thoughts too. Thanks so much for reading! 🖤

MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

[bungalowbear]

day 4 (masturbation): behind the curtain

@ayyy-pee here’s my submission for day four of nsfw gojo week! hope you enjoy!

cw: male masturbation, slight voyeurism

wc: 500

Carefully, you balance the serving tray on your hip and enter the prince’s chambers. The maid who usually tends to his morning rituals mysteriously fell ill last night and asked you to take over today. You agreed, promising to check on her after you finished.

“Time to rise, Your Highness.”

Your voice is purposefully loud. The only response is a grunt of protest from behind the curtains of the four poster bed.

Unloading the tray, you arrange the wooden serving bowls containing rice, miso soup, grilled fish, pickled cucumber, and the prince’s favorite sweet bread on the low table.

As you’re pouring the tea you hear rustling of sheets followed by the languid groans of a sleepy prince. The other maid had warned you that Prince Gojo was notoriously difficult to get out of bed. A task you had mentally prepared for on the way over.

So you stand from your kneeling position and march toward the bed, committed to fulfilling your duties lest it reflect poorly not just on you but on the other maid as well, and pull back the curtains. But what you find is not what you were expecting.

You mistakenly believed the noises you heard were of him rejecting consciousness. On the contrary, Prince Gojo is awake. Sitting up against the headboard with his eyes shut tightly as sounds of what you now recognize as self-pleasure escape his lips.

Rooted in place, your gaze travels from the messy fluff of his snow white hair to his exposed chest. Hard planes of abdominal muscles lead down to where the blankets had been pulled away haphazardly to expose the tops of his thighs.

Your eyes can’t look away from where his large hand firmly strokes his fully erect cock, long and lusciously pink at the tip that dribbles with premature drops of his creamy seed. His head is thrown back as his free hand fists the sheets.

When he moans your name, you’re brought out of your stupor. You weren’t aware he knew who you were. You’d encountered him in the halls on occasion, but your face was always lowered and rose again only when he passed then you continued toward your duties in another part of the estate.

So when his head lolls to the side and his eyes open, revealing two sapphire pools of victory and lust, you realize this was no mistake. For whatever reason, Prince Gojo has set his sights on you and now has you right where he wants you: rendered immobile by his piercing gaze.

His breaths become labored as his hand speeds up. The lewd slippery noise attacks the quiet of the room as he says your name again, voice becoming louder with every pump of his fist. He’s shameless as he brings himself to completion. Eyes squeezing shut as thick ropes of cum paint his chest.

You swallow, embarrassed at the wetness between your thighs.

Prince Gojo sighs, satisfied, and looks at you.

“A pleasure to officially meet you.”

[marvelmusing]

Someone Special

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Vampire!Darklina x Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: After becoming lost in the forest, you begin to lose hope for your survival. Then you wake in a warm house with two beautiful people doting on you.

Warnings [18+]: soft!dark warnings, reader doesn’t consent to being turned but she deals with it pretty well, dub-con because they both subtly use compulsion on the reader, brief mentions/allusions to sex, dub-con nudity (changing the readers clothes while sleeping), mentions of injury and death, blood consumption, usual vampire themes, biting, etc.

My Masterlist

Shudders wrack through your body as you stumble over a slippery log. The heavy downpour of rain has made everything slippery, and you’re concerned about the scrape on your calf.

Rainwater might wash the steady stream of blood away as soon as it blossoms to the surface of your skin, but the dirt and foliage from the woods clings painfully to your wound and you worry that it might become infected.

The pain in your hands has numbed, minor wounds from another fall rendered almost unnoticeable due to the coldness of your fingers. Drawing yourself closer together, you wrap the soaked fabric of your coat tighter around your body as you shake.

Sunset might have already happened, but with the dark clouds and thick tree branches shielding your view of the sky you have no way of knowing if night has already descended upon you.

The forest is dangerous at night. Everyone knows that.

Hopelessness has your body shaking with pathetic little sobs as you search around you like a helpless puppy looking for its mother.

You don’t know what to do.

Every muscle in your body aches with the tension of walking for so long and shivering in an attempt to conserve whatever limited warmth lingers in the centre of your body. All you want to do is collapse into a warm bed and sleep for eternity.

Even just lying on a dry patch of land seems appealing for a brief moment. But then reality hits you. Curling up amongst the undergrowth seems much more painful than poetic to you. If you stop now, hypothermia will claim you. Unless some beast in the forest finds your weakened body and decides to maul you to death.

Finding a smoother patch of grass is a godsend for your sensitive feet, as pain now shoots up your legs with every step - especially your wounded leg. If you could see properly through the lashing rain, you might have noticed that the grass looks like a subtle pathway. A secret path, that very few know about.

Dark patches sparkle over your vision and you struggle to tamper down your panic as you realise you might lose consciousness soon. Standing still, you lean against a tree, frowning when you spot a shadowed shape in the distance. It almost looks like a house.

Then your vision goes dark.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Fingers thread gently through your hair, a soft humming guiding you into consciousness.

A crackling fire is the first thing you see. Burning away underneath a huge ornate mantelpiece made of what looks like marble with shimmering gold meandering through the textured stone.

Glossy hardwood floors glisten under the firelight but a thick rug protects you from the chill of the floor as you become aware that you’re sitting on the ground.

Plush velvet cushions surround you, supporting your body as you lie with your head tilted back onto someone’s lap as they sit on the seat of the sofa that your back is leaning against. There’s a soft blanket draped over your body, though you still feel rather numb and therefore unable to enjoy the luxurious texture.

Opening your eyes fully, you tilt your head back further to see the person who’s still playing with your hair.

She’s beautiful.

A delicate oval face with creamy skin that glows warm with the flicker of firelight that dances over her features.

Dark hair hangs loose over her shoulders, cascading in casual waves, almost entwining itself with the pretty lace at the bodice of her nightdress. Black ribbons tie the front of it together, and you force yourself not to stare at her breasts as she leans forwards.

When you look back up towards her face, you find her dark eyes already on you and the breath halts in your throat as her pink lips curl into a soft smile.

Then she glances over to the other side of the room.

“Sasha, she’s awake.”

Blinking in confusion, you look over in the direction of her gaze.

It takes everything in you for your jaw not to drop at the sight of the man sitting in the armchair by the fire.

He sits relaxed, his long legs widened over the width of the leather chair, and you swallow hard at the sight of his trouser clad thighs. His clothing looks a little damp and some strands of his dark hair cling to his forehead.

A crystal glass sits on his thigh, cradled loosely by nimble fingers before he raises it to his lips and swallows down the contents without removing his pitch-black eyes from you.

He stands and in this moment you feel so tiny, sitting on the floor with this beautiful woman still smoothing back your hair and this breath-taking man towering above you.

He moves closer before he stoops down to examine your face intently. His eyes are even darker up close, threatening to swallow you whole.

“Hello, little one. How are you feeling?”

Shivering, you tuck yourself closer towards the fire. His question has brought back your awareness of your own body and the aches and pains have returned. But one feeling overrules all the others.

“Cold,” you whisper.

He hums in understanding.

“I know,” he says gently. His voice is smooth but there’s an edge of command there that has you listening to every word. “We can’t warm you up too quickly, or you might go into shock.”

“Are you hungry, my lovely?”

The question comes from the woman above you and before you can answer you’re tipping your head back to admire her again. There’s a haziness in your eyes as you nod, and she hums with a pleased smile.

“Let’s sit you up.”

Before you’ve even processed the man’s words, he’s hooked his arm underneath your legs, drawing you up against his chest. He places you down beside the woman, draping your legs over her thighs and you moan softly at the warmth of her.

Without any prior thought, you bury yourself against her, nuzzling your face into her chest and the hollow of her throat with a small sound of pleasure. Arms curling around her body, you shudder at the flood of warmth spreading over your skin.

It’s then that you realise how little you’re wearing. Just your underwear.

A flustered blush rushes over your cheeks, burning your body as you feel the weight of their gaze on your almost naked figure.

Then you realise that the underwear you’re wearing isn’t even yours. It’s a matching sheer lace set, delicate black patterns curling perfectly around the shape of your breasts, adorned with intricate gold embellishments at the edge of the cup.

Feeling the tension enter your body, the two of them exchange a glance, a wordless conversation conducted within a few seconds of eye contact.

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

The woman’s voice is soft and soothing as she brushes her fingers gently over your cheek. A shiver runs through you as you shake your head.

“Aleksander found you out in the woods.”

At the sound of the man’s name - Aleksander - you turn to look at him.

He meets your gaze steadily and you notice that his clothing is almost dry now. But you remember the dampness you had seen clinging to his hair.

“If it wasn’t for your heartbeat, I would have thought you were dead,” he says. His gaze turns fond as he looks at the woman. “My Alina is rather fond of strays, so I brought you home.”

Shakily, you draw in a breath and come to terms with how lucky you got, completely ignoring the comment about strays, though the woman - Alina - scoffs lightly at Aleksander. She gives him a pointed look that you don’t understand before she returns her attention to you.

“All of your clothes were either ruined or soaked through,” she explains. “And skin to skin contact is the best way to get you warm.”

As she strokes her palm over your thigh your eyes flutter closed, nodding in agreement. Her touch is electric, warming you down to your very soul.

A pair of arms wrap around your waist, Aleksander pulling your lower body flush against his hips. He must have rolled the sleeves of his shirt up at some point because the bare skin of his forearms is hot against your stomach.

Alina picks up a bowl from the small table beside her and your stomach groans at the scent of something rich and savoury.

“Slow sips,” she instructs you.

Nodding, you lean forwards as she holds the bowl to your lips.

The delicate porcelain is warm against your lips, and you sip tentatively at the creamy red soup. There’s a sweet tang to the liquid and you swallow down a larger mouthful eagerly. After a few more you lean heavily into the bowl, whining when it’s pulled away from you.

As you try to follow the bowl, a firm hand settles at the back of your neck, keeping you pinned in place. Pouting, you frown petulantly in protest.

Alina raises a brow sternly at you which immediately softens your features into something more apologetic.

“Just hold still and take what we give you,” Aleksander murmurs in a low voice.

Once you nod in agreement, Alina returns the bowl to your lips.

Aleksander’s hold on you remains unwavering, allowing you to sit with your mouth open and accept the warm liquid that Alina pours down your throat. All the while, he whispers soft praises into your ear.

“There’s a good girl. Swallow it all down for us.”

There’s a warmth in your stomach once you’re finished, making you feel warm and sleepy. Eyes fluttering heavily, you sink down against Aleksander’s chest.

Once Alina has placed the bowl aside she draws you into her arms, allowing you to brush your nose against the ribbons on her nightdress before you settle your cheek onto the patch of her bare chest.

Her heartbeat is steady and rhythmic, a perfect unfaltering beat that lulls you closer to sleep.

Aleksander’s hands sinks into your hair, squeezing gently at the back of your neck to relieve the tension there. A small moan of pleasure catches in your throat as you begin to drift off.

Their voices are low as they talk with one another. Whilst you can hear their words, understanding them is hard, and reacting is even harder, so you remain still as sleep begins to settle into your body.

“Happy with this one, Alya?”

A soft hum of agreement and then you feel her fingers stroke gently over your cheek.

“She’s so sweet. Our little baby.”

There’s the sound of a kiss being pressed to Alina’s forehead.

“I’m assuming the spell worked?”

“She’s consumed blood from both of us. With the ordeal she’s been through it’s likely the entire turning process will pass while she’s asleep.”

Aleksander breathes out a wide smile.

“After all these centuries. Our own little fledgling vampire.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There’s a dryness to your throat and lips as you wake and although they aren’t comfortable feelings the ache in your stomach has you forgetting those discomforts instantly.

Whimpering in pain, you writhe against the mattress you’re lying on, nudging into the people sleeping on either side of you. Aleksander and Alina.

He wakes immediately, noticing your distress and how your nails are inching towards your body to scrape at the uncomfortable feeling crawling over your skin.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, his voice gravelly from sleep. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

A shudder rolls down your spine at his command and you whine in pain. He breathes out a small sigh of realisation and relief fills you - at least he understands whatever is happening to you.

“Alya darling, wake up.”

The woman beside you grumbles quietly but soon her eyes are open, looking over at you.

“Is it feeding time?” she mumbles sleepily.

For some reason, Aleksander doesn’t need to nod for her to understand what is happening. But you’re still clueless.

With wide eyes, you watch her unlace the front of her nightdress, revealing her soft breasts. She shuffles backwards, propping herself up against some pillows as Aleksander takes hold of your chin.

“Open your mouth.”

With a frown, you do as he says, allowing him to tilt your head back and press his thumb against your face - just over the spot where one of your canines meets the gum.

There’s a sharp pain in the front of your mouth and Aleksander holds tightly onto your chin to prevent you from closing your mouth as your canines extend into fangs.

Aleksander smiles, tilting your head from side to side for him to admire your new pointed fangs.

“Oh Alya, look at how cute they are.”

Alina’s expression is filled with delight which softens into something more doting as she observes the confusion and pain in your eyes.

“Come here, my lovely.”

That’s all the encouragement you need to bury yourself into her open arms. Frightened whimpers prickle in your throat that she soothes away with a few gentle strokes to your head.

Cupping the back of your head, she guides your face down to be level with one of her breasts.

“Take a bite,” she instructs you.

Shaking your head, you try to move away but Aleksander is there, cradling the back of your head to keep you close to her breasts. Somehow, you can hear her heartbeat, as steady as it was last night, thrumming beneath her skin.

Whilst you don’t fully understand what is happening, what the two of them have done to you, the thought of hurting Alina stops you from doing as she said.

“It’s soft here,” she explains, giving her breast an enticing squeeze that makes your mouth water. “Easy enough for a little baby like you to feed on - and it feels good for me.”

That convinces you further, but you still look up to meet her dark eyes. She nods in reassurance.

Leaning forwards, you allow Aleksander to hold the majority of the weight of your head as you relax enough to sink your teeth into Alina’s breast.

She moans at the painful sensation, humming softly in pleasure as you begin to draw blood from her.

The hot liquid fills your mouth in a pleasant stream, enough for you to drink leisurely, suckling on her skin. Sighing in relief, you curl up in her lap with your legs draped together on the opposite side of her body.

The pressure of Aleksander’s hand at the nape of your neck helps keep you grounded in the moment, letting you enjoy the taste without pondering the implications.

Alina strokes her hand over your stomach, giving you small affectionate scratches every now and then which sends a shiver over your skin.

Occasionally you trace your tongue over her nipple, capturing drops of blood that have lingered there.

They both praise you constantly, telling you how well you’re doing, how sweet you look in Alina’s arms, how perfect you are for them.

Once your eyes close for a long period of time, and you find opening them again to be too much effort, they begin talking to one another as if you’re no longer in the room suckling on Alina’s breast.

“She’s making a mess of herself, Sasha.”

Too consumed by drinking, you don’t react when Aleksander lifts your leg up, parting your thighs so that they can both examine the sticky mess of arousal glistening there through the thin strip of fabric they had chosen for your underwear.

“I’ll clean it up once she’s finished feeding.”

“Our poor girl must be so desperate,” she remarks suggestively.

“No, Alina,” he says firmly. “It’s too soon after the turning. It would overwhelm her.”

She sighs, the motion of it rocking against your face though it doesn’t disrupt your feeding.

“But Sasha, look at her.”

Her fingers brush over your cheek and make a small happy sound at the affectionate touch. Aleksander’s lips press against your temple, and he inhales the scent of Alina’s blood eagerly.

He guides you into releasing her skin from your fangs and you whine at the loss of your new favourite treat.

“I know, sweet girl. My Alina tastes good, doesn’t she?”

Mindlessly, you nod in agreement.

“But I want you to go to sleep now, little one.”

He draws you into his arms, enveloping you fully into his embrace and you melt at the feeling of finally being warm and safe. Blinking heavily, in mere seconds you’re falling fast asleep.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When you wake you’re alone.

Frowning, you sit up in an unfamiliar bed. It isn’t the same bed you had been in with Aleksander and Alina. That bed had been large, the headboard carved from thick dark wood, and there had been black sheets over the mattress.

This bed is almost the complete opposite. It is a large bed, but that is the only similarity.

The bed is circular, with a beautiful white canopy that hangs down from the ceiling to drape over the side of the piece of furniture. The fabric is almost transparent, made from a fine netting material that has been decorated with shimmering silver threads in the pattern of different constellations.

There is no headboard, just a low metal border surrounding the entire bed that would make it difficult for you to climb out by yourself - though not impossible. The bars of metal are interwoven together mimicking delicate vines.

Up above, where the canopy begins as a small circle, a beautiful collection of crystals dangle in mid-air, casting tiny rainbows onto each other and the soft netting of the canopy.

“I hope everything is to your liking.”

For some reason, you don’t startle at the sound of Aleksander’s voice, as if you had already subconsciously noticed his presence. Turning your head towards him, you watch as he steps further into the room.

“What did you do to me?” you ask in a whisper.

He regards you for a long moment.

“I think you already know.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod. Despite the panic in your chest, your heartbeat remains steady, as does your breathing. That must be a side effect of becoming a vampire.

“Why?”

Something glistens in his eyes, as he walks slowly around the bed. Then he stops. There’s a distance in his gaze as he speaks quietly.

“Alina and I cannot have children. We have had countless friends over the centuries. Some decided to become like us. None of them survived.”

Slowly, you edge closer towards him. He brushes the fabric of the canopy aside and you realise there have been several openings cut into the material. The soft whiteness of the netting makes his dark features stand out dramatically.

“There’s something different about you. Something special.”

Confusion fills your eyes, and you shake your head, looking away from him. Concern fills his features at the sight of your distress, but you manage to speak before he can ask you what is wrong.

“I’m not special,” you protest quietly. “There’s nothing special about me.”

“I told you that you were almost dead when I found you.”

Remembering sitting by the fire between the two of them, when Aleksander had explained that he found you alone in the woods after you lost consciousness, you nod.

“The only reason I found you was because your heartbeat was so strong. Your body was ice cold, rigid with exhaustion, and your leg was infected, but your heart wasn’t giving up.”

At the mention of your leg, you look down, lifting up the edge of the nightdress you’re wearing to examine the skin there. Nothing. No trace of a wound. No scar. Not even some bruising. Whatever they had done had healed it completely.

“I couldn’t leave you there. Not when I knew that I could save you. However slight the chances may have been.”

A tear traces its way down your cheek as you remember that this is the man who saved your life. Without him, you would have died in the woods. Even when you arrived at their house, you would most likely have died if they hadn’t turned you.

“Thank you.”

“You won’t be able to leave the house for a while - for your own safety.”

You nod in understanding. Being a vampire will take some adapting to but at least you have Aleksander and Alina to help you along the way. He opens up the nearby wardrobe, a tall piece of furniture painted white and silver.

“As a result, the majority of your wardrobe is filled with sleepwear. I hope you don’t mind, but Alina is rather fond of nightdresses, and we wanted you to be comfortable. If there’s something else you would prefer-”

“No,” you say quickly. When Aleksander turns back to you a blush warms over your cheeks and you play with the delicate hem of the dress. “I like them. They’re very pretty.”

“You look very pretty in them.”

The warmth on your cheeks burns hotter in response to his words which gives you the courage to ask him,

“Would you pick one out for me to wear today?”

A softness fills his eyes as he nods slowly.

“Of course.”

He reaches for a clasp you hadn’t noticed before, allowing him to open a section of the bars surrounding your mattress like a gate. He must see the mixture of surprise and disappointment on your face, accompanied by the confusion you’re feeling. This bed isn’t a cage, why are you disappointed?

“What’s wrong?” Aleksander asks.

“Nothing.” He lifts a brow sternly and you look down as you admit, “I thought you were going to lift me out.”

Once your gaze lifts shyly to meet his, Aleksander closes the gate and extends his arms towards you, curling his fingers in a beckoning gesture. Moving on your knees, you shuffle closer to him.

He lifts you in one smooth motion and you cling tightly onto his shirt as you become momentarily airborne. His hands are firm on your waist, and he gifts you a little kiss on the tip of your nose once your feet return to solid land.

It doesn’t take him long to pick out another dress for you to wear. As he considers his options, you admire the sight inside your wardrobe. Lace and silks and sparkling embroidery. All for you.

Aleksander asks if you want to dress yourself, but either he or Alina must have changed your clothes twice already since you arrived here, so you don’t mind him removing the dress you had slept in to put you into a new one.

His selection for today is a short black dress made of silk, adorned with white lace at the hem and the underside of your breasts. There’s a small bundle of ribbons near your cleavage, to keep the dress closed at the top.

“Do you know how to tie the ribbons?” he asks.

Looking down at the complex tangle of ribbons on your bodice, you frown and shake your head. Aleksander smiles kindly, stepping forward to tie them himself.

“Alina will be more than happy to teach you. I will admit I’m far better at undoing them.”

When your gaze snaps to his he gives you a boyish wink and your cheeks flush with warmth once again.

Once he’s slipped a matching black robe over your shoulders and retrieved a rather fluffy pair of slippers for you to wear, Aleksander takes you by the hand and walks you through the house to find Alina.

Aleksander seems to know exactly where she is, though he doesn’t mind stopping so that you can admire the large windows that overlook the grounds of their estate, or the ornate carvings along the staircase, or the portrait of the two of them that sits tucked in a corner.

When you reach the library, your jaw drops.

Aleksander chuckles softly at the spellbound look on your face.

Bookshelves tower high above you, with thin ladders attached to tracks dotted around. You’ve never seen so many books in your life. The majority of them are leather-bound, though you do spot some more modern looking titles tucked away in a darkened corner.

Huge windows illuminate the space, cool daylight casting rays over the reading nook which Aleksander is directing you towards.

Alina sits perched on a velvet chaise sofa, an open book lying discarded on her lap in favour of looking at you. She smiles widely when your eyes meet.

“How are you feeling, my lovely?”

Looking down shyly, you squeeze Aleksander’s hand before you murmur,

“Good.”

He nudges you towards Alina and soon you’re settled by her side with one of her arms around you, whilst the other traces over your bare thigh as she admires your dress.

“This is pretty,” she says in a quiet voice that makes you shiver.

“Thank you.”

She turns towards Aleksander.

“How did I know you would pick one of the black ones?” she remarks teasingly, her eyes sparkling as she watches him sit down on the chaise opposite you.

“You must be a psychic, Alya dear.”

She grins at him. Then she turns back to you, smoothing your hair aside as she asks,

“Do you like everything in your room?”

“It’s wonderful. I love it.”

She practically beams at your words.

“We’ve been collecting pieces over the centuries, waiting for someone special to have them.”

Glancing over at Aleksander, he meets your eyes and nods in reassurance. You are special.

It must have been so lonely for the two of them, to only rely on each other, failing to extend their family beyond themselves for centuries.

“Would you tell me about them?” you ask her, nestling against her side and propping your head onto her shoulder.

She lights up immediately, telling you about how your bed was made in 18th Century Shu Han and that the canopy was handmade by a half-Shu designer who lived on the Ravkan border.

Aleksander smiles fondly at the sight of you listening so intently whilst Alina talks happily about the room the two of them have been assembling for centuries.

They’ve waited a very long time for you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

[ken-dom]

Hey, I don't want to bother you, but could you do something like Noah Calhoun x male reader? I don't know, I guess it would be great (if it's something I don't want to bother you but... Could you do some Noah Calhoun x male reader? I don't know, I guess it would be great (if it's something hot better... A submissive Noah wouldn't be bad 🔥

Anon cont.: Hey, I'm the same person who made the Noah x male reader request... Mhh... If you decide to accept it, could you add some humiliation to it? You know, the male reader humiliating Noah because... It's "small" down there and Noah simply loves it... I don't know... God, I'm a sucker and a weirdo... Don't think badly of me 😭😭😭

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Noah Calhoun x amab!reader drabble

Hi Anon. YES I CAN! It's just a short drabble as I have a lot of writing on the go but this really caught my attention. I’ve never written male reader before, or Noah (despite how I crave him 💀), so I hope this is ok!

Warnings/content: NSFW, frottage/handjob, humiliation, overstimulation, size kink kinda - but reversed?, biting, using cum as lube, light dom (reader)/sub (Noah) tones with a bit of switch Noah at the end (set in the unhinged Noah era)

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Noah's short nails rake over your shoulders as his hips buck forward again.

He looks beautiful like this. Breathless, needy, shy.

‘You feel so good in my hand,’ you coo as your tight fist works both your cocks with a firm, slow stroke. ‘Does it feel good? Being jerked off with a dick so much bigger than your own?’

Your words drip into Noah’s ear like warm honey, and he whines, driving his fingertips harder into your shoulders, a vague pang of delicious humiliation simmering, hot in his lower belly making his cock twitch.

It does feel good, and he nods with a vague whine, his eyes squeezing closed as you pump your fist a little faster.

A quiet moan escapes your throat and Noah shivers at the sound. A thick pearl of precum leaks from his tip, dripping down between your flush lengths and providing the lightest of relief for the briefest of moments, until his impatience takes over again. You can sense it from a mile away. He’s like an open book when you’re touching him.

‘Need to cum, baby?’ you ask softly, but it's not really a question. You just want to rile him, get him desperate. See him squirm.

Noah nods again, cheeks glowing.

‘I need to hear you, handsome,’ you push, and see him physically tense up.

‘Yes!’ he cries with a low snarl, head slamming back against the wall. Then, remembering himself, a much more polite, ‘P-please-’ follows.

He really is a picture, dirty blonde hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his forehead, shirt half pulled off in the passion of an earlier scuffle to kiss, lips swollen and mouth dropped open in bliss. A mess.

His freshly exposed, slender neck looks so enticing that your tongue unconsciously darts out to lick your lips as you plunge forward and bite down. It’s gentle, but enough to cause a jolt of delicious pleasure-pain to surge straight to his core and he writhes against you, trapped against the wall.

‘Cum for me, Noah,’ you encourage with softly whispered words, ‘show me what that little dick is capable of-’

You feel his cock throb in your grip, and while he might be small in comparison to you, his orgasm is quite spectacular; back arching, jaw dropping, legs trembling, and a thick, creamy rope that spills hot and slick over your hand and splatters up onto his belly.

He chokes out a moan out at his release, dropping back as his body relaxes between you and the wall while he desperately tries to catch his breath.

‘Been a while, huh?’ you tease with a tender kiss to his ear lobe.

He’s shaking with aftershocks, but you don't let him go yet, and he whines, his cock beginning to soften as the last sparks of his pleasure pulse through his body. You continue to stroke, hard and fast, his offering making each pump more delicious than the last until your own orgasm renders your ministrations sloppy and uneven.

Noah watches you cum with awe, eyes already sparkling with lust again despite the painful overstimulation you’re giving him. His blood boils with desire.

When you come down from the high, you find yourself in Noah’s place, pinned against the wall by his ridiculously strong hands.

As your eyes blink open, he presses forward and kisses you hungrily. A thank you. And an invitation.

With a raised eyebrow, he drawls, ‘Want to feel what else this “small dick” can do?’

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

One Day, Perhaps

So this little thing is a birthday present to one of my favourite humans here. You did, of course, give me the idea for this way back in elriel month but life got in the way of writing it sooner…

So, here you go dear @offtorivendell !! I hope you love this little piece of pure fluff. Happiest of birthdays to you, my lovely friend 💕 This is for you…

Elriel. Fluff. 1.3k words

Azriel stood behind Elain as she bent over to clip a rose from one of the bushes that lined the gravel footpath winding through the gardens of Feyre’s veritable palace. The surface of the sparkling river beyond shone as they meandered along the banks of the Sidra, reflecting the sun as it made its decent once again toward the horizon.

Elain’s thick, golden-brown hair was gathered into a braid that snaked down her spine, leaving her creamy neck exposed to the sun that was beating down on them in the early afternoon. Stretching out and angling his wing just so, Azriel used the membranous limb to shield her pale skin from getting sunburnt.

Noticing the shadows that muted the suns rays from heating her skin, she turned toward him from where she knelt, gifting him with a little smile that made his heart stutter a beat.

It wasn’t the first time he’d used his wing to shield her from the harsh rays of the summer sun. In fact, he did it most times he accompanied her on a walk through the gardens, Elain not being able to help herself without gathering her skirts in her hands and stooping down to pull out a wayward weed or clip a blooming rose to display in the house or gift a friend. But every time he did so, every single time he gave her that little reprieve from the sun, she quietly thanked him with that smile. That stunning smile that rendered his legs useless for several moments and threatened to send him careening to his knees before her.

Rising from her crouch, she placed the long-stemmed rose in the wicker basket Azriel held for her along with the others. She’d declared she wanted a new floral arrangement to brighten up the foyer and the garden was a riot of colour in the height of summer.

Looping her arm in his, they continued their walk, Elain chattering happily as they leisurely strolled through the grounds of the River manor, Azriel just letting her talk and interjecting where appropriate. He loved listening to her talk. Only around him was she so loquacious. He supposed she thought the same of him, considering others rarely got to see the more verbally outward version of himself as Elain did. But he savoured the press of her small hand on his bicep, her melodious voice as she spoke of the happenings around Velaris and her plans for the garden come autumn.

He companionably continued following her around the grounds like a shadow, pausing beside her as she spotted flowers she wanted to add to her bouquet. She was bent over her dahlia bushes, partially hidden in the shade of a large oak tree when the beat of leathery wings, much less scarred and smaller than his own, sounded from above them.

Looking up just in time, Azriel watched as Nyx fearlessly flung himself off a high branch of the tree and swooped down towards them, his wings fluttering behind him in an effort to catch the current. The look on his chubby little face spoke of pure mischief and his violet eyes sparkled, so like his fathers.

“Nyx!”

Scrambling to catch the toddler who had just dive bombed his aunt and uncle, Azriel dropped the basket, sending flowers hurtling in every direction as he latched onto Nyx before he could do serious damage to himself.

At Azriel’s cry, Elain whipped around, her face morphing from fear to sheer delight as she realised her nephew was indeed not in mortal danger and just up to his usual schemes.

With a pealing giggle, Nyx wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck, his grin splitting his face from ear to ear as he laughed at his own mischief.

“Did you see me fly, Unc Az?” Nyx asked excitedly, blissfully unaware he had almost caused the stoic Shadowsinger to suffer a heart attack with his flying. He was hanging off the back of Azriel’s neck like a spider monkey, his little face peering around to look curiously into his uncles’ face as he asked him his very important question.

“I saw you swoop me like an angry magpie, you little pest,” Azriel muttered beneath his breath, the corner of his lips lifting slightly as he tried in vain not to crack. Reaching for Nyx, Azriel hefted the three year old over his head and secured him in his arms against his chest.

Elain’s tinkling laugh alerted both Illyrian’s to her presence again, their eyes finding her lovely face in a devastatingly beautiful display of joy. Striding over to them, she smoothed down Nyx’s ruffled hair, kissing his forehead as he remained held aloft in Azriel’s arms.

“Are you being naughty again, Nyx?” Elain whispered conspirationally into the toddler’s face, her eyes alight with mirth.

“Unc Cass said to try surprise Az! He said he needs a-a… kick in his pants!” Nyx stuttered over the sentence as he worked to remember Cassian’s words, not fully appreciating their meaning.

“Oh, he did, did he?” Azriel muttered darkly as Elain stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“I’ll show him a kick in the pants,” Azriel grumbled, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced with all the ways he was going to pay back his brother.

Elain just laughed again, taking Nyx from Azriel’s arms and handing the Shadowsinger the basket in return, full of her clipped flowers once more after she’d collected them off the ground.

Azriel watched Elain fuss over Nyx as they started their walk again, the toddler tucking his face into his aunts’ neck, his little arms wrapping as far as they could reach around her frame. He watched as Nyx settled in his aunts’ embrace, lulled into a serene idleness by her calm demeanour and intoxicating scent. He couldn’t help but think the entire scene looked so…natural.

For someone like Elain, the idea of domestic bliss seemed so fitting. He was almost certain one way or another, it would find her, if that was what she wished. If anyone was fitting of motherhood, it was Elain.

“Do you want one?” Azriel blurted before he could think better of it.

Elain’s eyes found his, the chocolate of her irises bright in the sun. Her gaze flicked down to Nyx’s little form, his legs dangling either side of her waist as she held him hitched on her hip before her eyes flitted back to his. Her eyes had softened as they beheld her precious nephew, the adoration she felt toward him evident in the slight crinkling of the corners.

A knowing little smile bloomed across her face before she responded, “I do, one day, perhaps. But for now, I’m happy.”

Azriel watched her hand smooth circles on Nyx’s back, careful to avoid his little wings. He watched the way she naturally knew how to care for him, provide him safety and love. Something most of his own childhood lacked, but in no way the fault of his own mothers’.

“Do you?” Elain asked shyly, her voice breaking through his reverie, before she continued, “…want one?”

He watched her interacting so effortlessly with the little youngling, some inherent Elain-esque instinct talking over. Watched the gentle hands she used to care for him, the soft whispers of love in every touch and embrace and spoken word. If he indeed were to ever have children, that’s all he’d wish for them.

Azriel looked at her unblinkingly, even his shadows stilling behind him as if they too were aware that this moment in his life would indeed turn out to be one of great importance. “If I were one day to be granted the opportunity to be blessed in such a way, it would truly be an honour.”

Elain blinked up at him slowly, digesting his words, understanding blooming between the two of them with such ease. It was always so easy, with her.

She nodded; her lips set in a small smile before averting her gaze to their path ahead, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

“You will,” she uttered in no uncertainty, continuing their walk as Azriel fell into step beside her. The comfortable silence enveloping them once more.

He exhaled deeply, a weight he wasn’t aware pressing in on his chest loosening, beginning to slowly unravel. He believed her.

*******

tagging: @offtorivendell​ @fawnandshadows​ @the-laughing-bubble​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @pagemasters​ @tswaney17​ @sakurakittypeach​ @thefangirlofhp​ @wingedblooms​ @alwayssara​ @ultadverb​

[mushroom-madness]

Pictures and Descriptions under the cut

Glowcap Mushroom

"The glowcap is an Underdark traveller's boon, both lighting the way and dazzling the tongue." A lovely shade of blue.

Bluecap Mushroom

"While bland and tasteless, bluecap spores are your best bet at finding something edible in the Underdark." These guys never highlight as lootable in the environment. Tricky little guys.

Blushcap Mushroom

"Red and white mushrooms appear in many children's rhymes throughout Faerûn." The mush. The myth. The 🍄.

White Mushroom

"Delicious when sautéed with a bit of garlic, cooked into a cream, or grilled with a slice of veal." A classic with real life appeal

Fragrant Fungus Stew

"A popular duergar dish. And why not? Its ingredients are common, and its flavour as bright as the glowcaps that comprise it." Careful who you get this from, may contain myconid. The duergar in Grymforge seemed sick of it despite its apparent popularity.

Mushroom Soup

"A thick, rich soup to warm both your hands and stomach." "Simmered for hours on a low fire until a generous helping of mushrooms were rendered soft and creamy." So beloved the game has two different items for it!

[mariacallous]

It seems that the universal love language of grandmothers across many cultures is cooking up a big bowl of chicken soup. Growing up, my lola (grandmother) would make arroz caldo on days where we just needed a comforting hug in a bowl,  which clearly, has so much in common with its Jewish counterpart: matzah ball soup. 

Arroz caldo is a rice porridge dish similar to congee, jook or risotto and is typically made by stewing glutinous and/or short grain white rice with chicken and water for hours and hours, until the chicken falls apart and the rice is broken down into a thick and creamy consistency. What makes arroz caldo uniquely Filipinx is the ginger and garlic aromatics that are underscored with the acidity of sweet and tart calamansi, a citrus fruit with roots in the Philippines. These days you are likely to find calamansi in your local Asian grocery store or farmers market if you live in a warm climate, though you can also find it in juice form in the freezer section of most Asian grocery stores. If you can’t find fresh or frozen calamansi, you can also substitute fresh lemon.  

For this Jewish-Filipinx mash-up, I made the broth as I would arroz caldo, but without rice and remixed traditional matzah balls by adding ginger and green onions right into the matzah meal. In arroz caldo, browning the chicken first allows for the chicken fat to render. No need to do that here since I used straight up chicken fat instead of oil. In case you need a reminder, I’m here to say that schmaltz is magic, y’all. 

I hope this delicious bowl provides that comforting bubbe, or lola, hug we all so desperately need sometimes. 

[flannelepicurean]

Let's Cook: Episode 2

A non-linear follow-up to this madness.

Let's Cook: A Breaking Hannibal Caper Episode 2: THE CLOCK, A.K.A ART THERAPY, A.K.A. LAYERS, BITCH

"YO, ARE WE DOING ART THERAPY?"

Will's already taut nerves twist further as Pinkman explodes onto the scene. Pinkman’s hands clap down onto the chair, slapping against the upholstery right next to Will’s head, and he leans over, leans in, until the fine fuzz on Will’s cheek, the stubble quickly going to unruly underbrush, prickle at his proximity.

“I’ve given Mr. Graham an exercise to complete,” Lecter explains, his voice smooth and subtle, like honeyed whiskey. “He has drawn a clock for me.” Lecter shifts his posture, folds his hands on crossed legs. Inquires lightly, “What do you make of it, Mr. Pinkman?”

Pinkman leans in closer, and the prickling becomes electric. Then he returns to an upright stance with the suddenness of a jack-in-the-box, gives a studious nod, and declares, "Yeah, brah, you got some, uh…you got issues." 

Before Will can sort out a rejoinder, the lad brightens, turns to Lecter, beaming. "OH! YO! SHOW 'IM MINE!"

“Ah, yes,” Lecter agrees. He rises from his chair like a heron assured of fish. Retrieves a folio from his desk. Sits across from Will again, and brings forth the contents. He gives the sheaf of papers a delicate shuffle, then leans forward, hands over a thick, creamy sheet of drawing paper. Cotton rag, Will guesses, by the feel. He sets his clock sketch aside and glances down at Pinkman’s work. 

Blinks, uncomprehending. 

He tilts his head, wipes sweat away from his eyes.

Rendered in cartoonish simplicity, with a heavy hand, an adequately discernible image of a smirking gorilla, holding a banana. But…

Will licks his lips, tilts his head in the other direction. Stammers, “Is–is–is the, uh…is the banana…uh…" His eyes dart toward Pinkman, but skitter away before actually making contact. "Is the banana…his dick?”

Pinkman flings both index fingers in Will’s direction. “GOT IT IN ONE, HOMIE! YEAH!”

Will stares, appalled. Whispers, “...What?”

Hannibal gracefully plucks the crude drawing from his grasp and peers at it with a meditative air. Muses, “Indeed. At the seat of his desire, the heart of his display of pride and dominance, we find also the answer to his own quest for nourishment. What might we learn, then, about his own perception of the sense of self? The smile is there, yes. But do the eyes betray a hint of fear? Self-doubt?” He sets the drawing aside, folds his hands in his lap once more. Continues, “Perhaps the cruelest trick of our creator was indeed to give us, mere naked apes that we are, knowledge enough to doubt ourselves. And perhaps when we doubt ourselves, Will, we are merely experiencing the betrayal of our creator.” He brightens. “As Mr. Pinkman so deftly expressed during art therapy training.”

Pinkman appears over Lecter's shoulder, takes an enormous bite of a banana suddenly produced, no doubt, from one of his myriad pockets. Informs Will, "IT'S GOT LAYERS, YO."

Hannibal nods, deep in reflection. Agrees, "Layers. Yes."

"LIKE A BANANA," Pinkman adds.

A pencil snaps in Will's hands.

[gazelessmenagerie]

“Kink?” (dealers choice)

Send “Kink?” and my muse will admit a fetish of theirs.  

...He hadn’t moved much from curling around the smaller frame of that puny Thunder God he’s been enamored with for quite some time now. Placid.. docile.. the moment was too... 

                                          ....

                                                                    ...The word eluded him..

Didn’t matter.. he took his time to churn over the discoveries made in their time spent copulating until the sun rose once more or however many rounds either of them could push towards before falling in exhaustion. Tension gently pressed molars together, the end of a furred tail idly flickering with thought as he took the time to pick and choose his words in a way that would.. be spoken. Pressing his nose into the seas of stormy indigo and violet hues.. a deep breath filled the sensitivities of his nasal passages with that intoxicating scent.. Fingers kneading into the luxurious materials worthy to adorn upon a Deity ruling over their land and upon the storm ridden heavens. The crackle of Thunder brought his heart to stir, feeling the build-up of static charge that made every hair on his body bristle with excitement before the climax of a silvery Serpent struck against the ground. It couldn’t be helped he’d find such power to be Irresistible.. So Beautiful in Brutality.. Ravaging as Earth and Heaven both split apart in the wrath of Ei.

Her prowess as a warrior could be something to be spoken of.. hearing her tales of slaying weaker Gods and Beasts alike. Commanding armies and ruling upon her lands as she deemed fitting. Powerful in body despite her seemingly dainty appearance, she’d even strike him with bolts of lightning upon being deserved for his... so-called ‘Oafish Tendencies.’ Her skill even with that blade could be marveled.. as much as he’d much rather not be at the end of that wretched thing. Ei did not mince her words either.. Dignity followed her steps.. but even that could fall apart to such sweet primal melodies when he’s in the middle of ravaging her to his own heart’s content. Having her hands pull at his hair, pull him by a collar latched around his throat.. leaving bleeding welts down the extent of his back in the wake of nails dragging down and he’d only want More. 

A quiet huff of air exhaled.. the steeliness of those dark orbs softened before thick eyelashes shrouded over. Brown tail found its way to coil around an ankle, brushing its tip against the creamy skin as powerful arms capable of rendering entire mountain ranges to dust slowly pulled at that Little God closer to himself.

“ ... The way you say ‘ Good boy ’ is something I can’t deny even if I wanted to, ” As much as he hated it.. the way his tail just thumped and wagged like it had a damn will of its own was a reaction he never once anticipated until those two little words fell from those enticing lips, “ I hate that it drives me a certain way. Every time I hear those two words, I just want to please you more.. I want to hear you say it again. I’ll kill whoever you want.. destroy whatever you want.. only to hear you, and only you, call me that. ”

[fat-slobby-hunks]

A little bit of the Pokemon franchise. Chuck, Crasher and Wulfric wake up in a strange room and they are all bound, gagged and in their underwear. What will they do and what will their reaction be?

(Oooh nice! I need to add more poke-guys

The sound of panicked grunts and thrashing could be heard, or it would have been heard if it wasn't coming from the inside of a soundproofed room far away from any help or snooping pokemon trainers. And just what was inside this room? Why three of the beefiest, toughest, most muscle bound trainers around!

Wulfric, Chuck and Crasher Wake awoke each on opposite ends of a cube shaped room bound to the walls by restraints around their wrists and rendered silent by thick bulbous ball gags strapped into their mouths. They were placed across from one another so they could get a good look at their fellow trainers predicaments but the strangest thing of it all? They were naked! Well mostly naked, the three men had been stripped down into nothing but their underwear!

Of course their first response was to try and break free of their restraints after the initial shock of being kidnapped and stripped wore off.

Wulfric was wearing a rather uncharacteristically cute pair of undies that hugged his above average member and rump quite well with a cute spheal design on the front. "Of course it had to be laundry day..." the stoic ice type specialist thought to himself. Atleast the others were in similar shapes. Thrashing against his restraints he just couldn't seem to get any leeway given the awkward position he was in and uncomfortably tight gag in his mouth taking away from his focus.

Meanwhile Crasher had been tugging at the wall from the moment he woke up, a task only made more difficult by the dive ball themed underwear he happened to be wearing. Chuck would soon follow suit though unlike Crash and Wulfric who were wearing rather embarassing undies he was sporting a red Mawashi looking like he and been picked up right before a sumo match.

the three muscular men trying their best to tear the restraints free of the wall with little success. In fact all this served to do was tire the three of them out! With no semblance of time what felt like hours passed and soon even the herculean strength of the three men would falter. Exhausted and out of breath the three kidnapped gym leaders would be hard pressed to find a way out of their current predicament. Bound, gagged and writhing in their underwear for the amusement of some unseen audience.

Their exhaustion came at just the right time for something in their prison began to change. The room they were in would open up. Specifically from the ceiling two alcremie, a vanilluxe would be dropped into the room with their pokeballs bursting open with a loud POP! The three gym leaders paused looking on in confusion for a moment. Just what kind of torture was this supposed to be?

"Pokemon? They don't seem agitated or even aggressive... just what the hell is going on here?" Crasher thought between panting labored breaths after who knows how long of struggling.

Though before he could try anything the pokemon sprung action. The alcremie began to move their hands extending into thick tentacles of cream and icing. Chuck and Crasher didn't stand a chance chained as they were. The thick creamy fluid slipped passed their gags and forced its way down their throats. With no choice but to swallow they soon found themselves stuffed with gallons of cream.

"Too... much..." Chuck would groan as his once toned and muscular stomach was pumped tight as a drum. But something was off... where once there had been muscle was now... fat?

Wulfric wasn't spared with a blast of ice cream filling his belly as the oversized cone pokemon relentlessly used ice beam with no signs of stopping. "Glug... glug... OURP~" The sounds of digestion and gulping filled the room with the Endless streams of fattening cream continuing to turn the once muscular trainers into mountains of flabby cellulite riddled flesh.

"Huff... huff... cant... eat anymore... sho sho... much cream..." Crasher groaned around his gag with his restraints having been released to allow him to fall belly first onto the cold ground, jiggling rump pointed into the air

The others would soon join him riding their own guts like oversized exercise balls. Helpless to stop as their hard work and years of training vanished into jiggly mounds of blubber.

Eating and growing... almost unending. Was this what awaited them? Perhaps...

[wubacare]

Foot Cream for Cracked Feet: A Soothing Solution for Healing and Hydration 

Cracked feet are more than just a cosmetic issue; they can cause discomfort, agony, and even progress to more serious foot problems if not treated. Because of the lack of oil glands, our feet's skin is naturally drier than the rest of our body, making them prone to dryness, flakiness, and cracking. Fortunately, there are specialised foot creams that are designed to handle these difficulties successfully. In this post, we'll look at the benefits of foot cream for cracked feet and how to select the best one for your needs.

Why Do Feet Crack? 

Before we talk about foot creams, we need to understand why feet crack in the first place. Several reasons contribute to this widespread issue: 

Dry Skin: As mentioned before, the skin on our feet lacks oil glands, rendering it prone to dryness. 

Excessive Pressure: Standing for lengthy periods of time or wearing ill-fitting shoes can cause excessive pressure on the foot, resulting in cracks. 

Environmental Factors: Prolonged contact with water, low humidity, and cold temperatures can deplete the skin's natural oils, leading to cracking. 

Medical Conditions: Eczema, psoriasis, and thyroid issues can all lead to dry, cracked feet. 

The Benefits of Foot Creams 

Foot creams are specifically designed to give extreme hydration, exfoliation, and protection for the feet. Here are some of the main advantages of utilising foot cream for cracked feet. 

Moisturization: Emollients and humectants in foot creams help to soften the skin and prevent it from cracking further. 

Exfoliation: Many foot lotions contain alpha-hydroxy acids (AHAs) or urea, which assist to exfoliate dead skin cells, resulting in smoother, healthier-looking feet. 

Protection: Shea butter, beeswax, and lanolin form a protective layer on the skin, sheltering it from environmental assaults and preventing moisture loss. 

Healing: Some foot lotions contain healing agents such as aloe vera, tea tree oil, and calendula extract, which have anti-inflammatory and antibacterial characteristics that help cure cracks and fissures. 

How to Choose the Right Foot Cream 

With so many different foot creams on the market, it can be difficult to choose the ideal one. When picking a foot cream for cracked feet, consider the following factors: 

Components: Look for foot lotions with moisturising components including glycerin, hyaluronic acid, and ceramides. AHAs, urea, and salicylic acid are great exfoliants, while aloe vera, tea tree oil, and calendula extract provide healing benefits. 

Texture: Choose a cream with a thick, creamy texture that absorbs rapidly into the skin without leaving a greasy behind. 

Fragrance: If you have sensitive skin, use a fragrance-free foot cream to avoid potential allergens. 

Reviews and Ratings: Before purchasing a foot cream, read reviews and look at ratings to determine its effectiveness and reliability. 

How to Use Foot Cream Effectively 

Follow these easy steps to get the most out of your foot cream and have soft, smooth, and crack-free feet: 

Cleanse: Cleanse your feet with a gentle cleanser and warm water to get rid of dirt and pollutants. 

Exfoliate: Gently exfoliate the skin with a foot scrub or pumice stone, paying special attention to fissures and calluses. 

Apply Cream: Massage the foot cream into your feet in circular strokes until fully absorbed. 

Cover Up: Wear breathable cotton socks overnight after applying the foot lotion to trap in moisture and increase absorption. 

Conclusion 

Cracked feet are unattractive and painful, but the appropriate foot cream may effectively nourish, heal, and hydrate your skin. Understanding the causes of cracked feet and selecting a foot cream matched to your specific needs allows you to take proactive efforts to keep your feet healthy and beautiful all year. So, invest in a high-quality foot cream today and experience a world of relaxation, confidence, and renewed vitality! 

[weedcontrol]

Defeating the Invader: How to Eliminate Japanese Knotweed

Japanese Knotweed (Reynoutria japonica) is an invasive plant species that has garnered a notorious reputation for its ability to thrive in diverse environments, wreaking havoc on native ecosystems and property values alike. Recognized by its bamboo-like stems, heart-shaped leaves, and clusters of small, creamy-white flowers, this persistent plant can quickly overrun gardens, roadsides, and riverbanks. To protect your property and the environment, it's crucial to learn effective methods for eradicating Japanese Knotweed.

1. Early Detection is Key: The first step in successfully eliminating Japanese Knotweed is early detection. As soon as you spot this invader on your property, take action. Knotweed spreads rapidly, both through underground rhizomes and above-ground stems, so addressing it promptly is essential.

2. Herbicide Treatment: Herbicides are one of the most effective methods for managing knotweed. Glyphosate-based herbicides, such as Roundup, are commonly used. Apply the herbicide during the plant's active growing season, typically in late spring or early summer. Follow the manufacturer's instructions carefully, as excessive use can harm other plants. Repeated applications over several years may be necessary to fully eradicate the infestation.

3. Cutting and Removal: Cutting Japanese Knotweed down to the ground and disposing of the cuttings properly is another method to consider. This should be done in late spring or early summer when the plant is actively growing. Be vigilant about removing all plant material from the site, as even a small fragment can regrow. Dispose of the cuttings at a landfill or through a controlled composting process that ensures the plant's destruction.

4. Smothering with Barriers: Creating a physical barrier can help suffocate the plant. Lay down a thick layer of black plastic or geotextile fabric over the affected area, ensuring it is well-anchored to the ground. This method is effective when combined with herbicide treatment, as it weakens the plant while preventing it from receiving sunlight.

5. Excavation and Removal: For severe infestations, excavation may be necessary. Hire professionals to dig up the entire infested area, including the roots and rhizomes. This method can be costly and may disrupt the landscape, but it's often the most reliable way to completely eliminate Japanese Knotweed.

6. Biological Control: In some regions, releasing knotweed-specific insects or pathogens can be a sustainable control method. Research local regulations and consult with experts to determine if this option is viable for your location.

7. Continuous Monitoring: After taking action to eliminate Japanese Knotweed, continuous monitoring is essential. Even the smallest missed fragment can lead to regrowth. Regularly inspect the affected area for any signs of resurgence, and be prepared to repeat the chosen control method if necessary.

However, with diligence and the right approach, you can protect your property and the surrounding environment from this invasive species. Act swiftly, employ the appropriate methods, and stay vigilant to successfully kill weeds and restore your land to its natural state.

From all other companies running around, Weed Control Ltd. is a reliable firm which renders remarkable weed removal services for public works. They offer spraying service for all weeds irrespective of type and volume. To know more about how to kill Japanese knotweed, you can check the details as follows:

Name: Weed Control Ltd

Email: weedcontrollimited@gmail.com

Phone: 087-259 5855

[for-fvckssake]

"cum in me, cum in me! fucking- fill me up, i cant take this anymore- put a fucking baby in me, fuck me full-" eren babbles what his brain deems as nonsense, drool coating your shoulder as he rides the reminiscent waves of his previous orgasm. his body spasms and quivers, cock bouncing with every thrust of your hips while the last few pearls of his spend coat your lower stomach.

"please, hnng-!" he hiccups, heavy tears finally rolling down his red cheeks as a familiar sensation builds up inside of him. his balls draw up closer to his body, cock twitching desperately in the air on a silent plea for yet another release while his abs contracted and rolled with every pant that came out of his body.

eren had just came very feel minutes ago, but the incessant plowing and stroking of your cock against his abused walls brought him right to the precipice of another orgasm again. this one felt different, though. it approached quickly, heavier, in a way that had his toes curling before it even happened.

"oh my fucking god. p, im- pleasepleasepleaseplea- fUCK!" the moment your teeth sink into him, the knot on his tummy snaps with enough force to render him imobile for a second before his body thrashes violently from above you. his nails sink into his own palms as you hold his wrists in place. his back straightening as a row of powerful shivers run up his spine, making his head roll back on his shoulders.

the thick ropes of thick cum that should have painted your stomach with a creamy white color never come though, but eren is too fucked out to notice you had just made him cum dry for the first time ever.

-Rennie <33333

i grunt out loudly, feeling my own orgasm approach rapidly from the utter filth falling from your lips. “fuckin christ baby, such a noisy fuckin bitch, bagged the loudest whore in the fuckin area huh.”

my words are growled against your skin, shining with sweat and drool as your sobs and pleading gets louder, before the tension breaks with the sudden violent reaction from you.

“jesus fuckin GOD JAEGER-“ i yell out, tugging you all the way down as you orgasm simultaneously. my head falls back as a small stream of blood pours from my lip, thanks to the accidental cut from biting my lip too harsh as i look down at you with a breathless grin before my jaw drops

“so… this is new…” i chuckle out breathlessly. “jesus fuck baby, this shits… so fuckin hot. this mean we need to keep goin? we need to make more, hm? keep tryin to get ya to nut all over me?”

[dessertcorner]

Which Are The Unique Indian Fusion Dessert Dishes?

Creativity becomes a trend, which creates Indian fusion dessert dishes to delight everyone. There are tons of choices and recipes that bring a huge urge among people. Moreover, the desserts are available for both vegans and nonvegetarians in diverse varieties. Finding the right destination is your only choice to ensure the best quality desserts. Nowadays, you can even explore the facilities like customizing the desserts and flavors present in it. When it comes to cake, you can change it into any theme depending on the preference of your special person. Based on your taste there are a plethora of choices in both cold and hot textures to render an ethereal feel. Fortunately, these choices tempt your taste bud often to try more and more. Now, it is time to learn some more innovative and fusion desserts below to make you awestruck.

 Fusion Ice Cream

 When it comes to Indian Fusion dessert dishes, ice cream sounds first in mind and tempts you to give it a try immediately. Have you heard of fusion ice creams? Yes! It is the trendy choice at present that makes you ought for any flavor. Further, you can combine two or more flavors in a single cake and enjoy the delight. Even the experts make instant ice creams with fresh fruits of your choice. These fusions help in finding the best flavor in the way you want. Try these ideas once and that makes you an addict for a long while.

 TresLeches

 Leches are the common favorite dessert of many, and getting this in fusion stands beyond expectation level. Getting this cool item with incredible dry fruits on the top makes you enjoy creaminess and crunchiness. You can even make changes in the flavors and the toppings to be indulged on the top. However, if you wish to experience both cake and creamy texture try this once. Having these tresleches during the summer makes you travel directly to heaven. Try this once and become a fan and build a never-ending story.

 KulfiFalooda

 There are numerous individual fans for both kulfi and falooda but how about combining both? Yes! Here comes the Indian fusion dessert that never fails to make the day delectable. The deadly combo of this looks tremendous and renders you a unique taste. The freezing and juicy texture of this dessert wins your heart on the first bite. You can even explore some flavors in the kulfi like kesarbadam, pistachio, and many more. These fusions are specially made to bring out something innovative beyond expectation.

 Thick Shakes

 Ending meals with milkshakes is the utmost best way to enjoy immense pleasure. The current ideas in shakes surely make you awestruck and melt you with flavors. From oreo biscuits to Kit Kat chocolates everything is getting fused in shakes. In addition, you can explore extraordinary flavors like black currant, blueberry, and many more. You can even combine your favorite flavor as a scoop on top of the shakes. These ideas deliver you something new and this exposure brings stress relief from daily work pressure.

 Hot Desserts

 Probably, most desserts are cold but how come tasting them in a hot way? Sounds great right? Hot desserts such as brownies are the deadly combination of hot brownies with ice cream. Imagine tasting extreme coldness and hotness together that stand beyond expectation. The remarkable taste of desserts like this showers immense happiness for sure. There are various innovations brought in hot desserts that stand equal to cold ones. Try brownies with any of your favorite flavor scoops for something new. 

 Winding Up!

 Choose ‘Brittle’ to experience the best Indian fusion dessert dishes with the utmost best quality and at an affordable price. We deliver extreme care in preparing our desserts and professionals bring your dream fusions into real use. We are the one-stop destiny of the dessert corner that delights you in all possible ways. So, time to make your purchase right now to forget yourself from incredible tastes. 

Indian fusions are yummy in taste and flavor that never ever leave your tongue once you ate.

An author is the best chef whose preparation of desserts are extreme in taste that satisfies the customers. For more details contact us now

[danyell138]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Cargo Swimmables Eye Pencil Dorado Beach.