#And with this we have finished the first three days of submissions.

[haveyouheardthispodcast]

#The Ricky Gervais Show #poll #comedy #And with this we have finished the first three days of submissions.

[sadesluvr]

Three Simple Wishes - William Afton x Reader

It’s Vanessa’s birthday, but her father William ends up getting the best present. 

A/N:  Pure filth, yet again. This has gone through a BILLION iterations, but I’ve finally done it…I’m off to horny jail. Minors DNI!

Word count: 3.5K

Tags: SMUT / Dom + Sub dynamics / Dub-con / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20’s) / Infidelity / Costume sex / Perv! William / Oral sex, male and female receiving / Sex toys (Vibrator) / Multiple orgasms / Unprotected sex / Creampies / LOTS of use of the term 'Princess' / William is just NASTY, ok? And a bad father but we knew that

Being a Rent-A-Princess was far from glamorous, but sometimes it was rewarding. As for the other times? Having to endure sleazy men who hire you for bachelor parties, and cleaning yourself up from that one sickly child who puked on your dress.

You hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days.

It seemed promising enough to start, until you’d apparently shown up an hour early.

“I’m sorry,” a man named William said. You’d quickly learned he was the birthday girls’ father. “Sarah should’ve told you that they were going to the movies first. It’s funny how she can forget that, but not to nag about everything I do,” he said matter of factly, swigging his drink.

So he was the complaining husband. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

“Well, I can wait…” you sighed, playing with the sparkly material of your dress. Mrs Afton had specifically requested that you be a ‘fairy princess’ - so you were dressed in a flowery tiara, crème coloured wings, and a corset-like dress with off the shoulder straps and a tulle skirt that stopped just by your knees. 

“Want a drink?” William asked, breaking the tension. He seemed nice enough, albeit slightly dorky with his large glasses and oddly coloured tie. Apparently he’d come from work.

You politely shook your head, biting your lip as you directed your attention around the room, somewhat oblivious to the way the man was staring at you.

He’d heard of his wife’s “genius” idea to hire a princess, but for some reason the concept had never really manifested in his mind. He’d always seen them as slightly cringey with weird, overly heavy makeup, but you were a dream come true. Shy, polite - perfectly submissive. He wondered what was hidden under the layers of tulle and petticoat; if you’d squirm when he ran his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could finger your pussy. He wanted to see you in action; if you’d stay in character whilst he pounded you into the counter, tears of ecstasy forming in your eyes as you’d squeal when you came around his cock.

His relationship with his wife had gotten stale a long time ago, and it was time that he got a thanks.

“You know, I’ll pay you for this extra hour,” he announced. “Can you do a little bit of your act? I wanna see if you’re good enough for my ‘Nessa,” he smiled, eyes wide and sparkling. Even though he was a grown man, it was actually rather cute. You loved seeing devoted fathers - 

How could you say no? 

You picked up your wand and stood in the middle of the kitchen before you curtseyed.  

“Your wish is my command…” you said gently, peering up at him through your lashes. It was a classic move in the business, but it drove the man crazy. He smirked, finishing the last of his beer before he walked around the counter to join you, leaning against the counter. 

It was then you realised how much bigger he was than you; tall, with a large chest and limbs. What struck you the most was his biceps and thighs - he was far more built than the typical man his age. For some reason you now felt nervous, but it wasn’t the usual pre-show jitters.

“…How may your Princess be of assistance?”

His Princess. You were all his for the next hour.

“I get three wishes, don’t I?” he hummed.

You pursed your lips and nodded, rolling the wand in your hands as your heart pounded against your chest.

“Well, for my first wish I’d like a dance with you,” William said, smirking at your startled reaction.

“I’m not a great dancer…” you said bashfully. 

William stepped closer, reaching out a hand to adjust the material of your sleeves down so that they were level, noticing how your skin freckled with goosebumps upon his touch.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll teach you,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and beginning to lead you into some kind of ballroom dance. 

There was no music but he hummed a deep, methodic melody that came from inside his chest, almost like a satisfied purr of a lion. He was careful as he held you, as if you were a porcelain doll, making sure that his body was a safe distance from yours. Still, your bare legs and the tickly material of your dress occasionally rubbed against his own, earning an apologetic ‘sorry’ from you every time.

You were beyond perfect. Quite literally a fantasy come to life.

Once you were done, you broke away. 

“Where did you learn to move like that?” you chuckled.

“I play a character too,” he said vaguely. “I’m very comfortable in my body. Besides, my wife always said I was good with my hands…” he finished, raising his brows slightly. You bit your lip and cocked your head, giggling at his entendre. 

“What’s your second wish?”

“A kiss,” he said bluntly, and you glanced at the ground shyly. This was certainly beyond your means. Still, you were technically on the job, and you’d jokingly kissed people on the cheek before as part of it. This was the only gig you had that was getting you through college, and you couldn’t lose it.

You nodded, adjusting your tiara before you leaned in, standing on your toes as you planted a kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly prickly because of his beard, contrasting against your soft, slightly sticky lips. Pulling away, you realised you’d left a smudge of your lip gloss on his cheek.

William hummed at the contact, unable to suppress his growing erection. You smelled heavenly, and your kiss was even better. So gentle, so precise…

“That was lovely, sweetheart, but I didn’t say on the cheek,”

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mr Afton — I can’t…You’re married,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “It’s all just make-believe. Besides, she’s not here…”

You remained frozen as he got closer to you, his hands again brushing the sleeves of your dress, this time beginning to slide them down your arms. You knew what he wanted.

“Mr Afton, please,” you begged, glancing around the kitchen. If this endeavour was going to happen, it shouldn’t be by a children’s birthday cake. “Not here…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice raspy. The cracks were beginning to show, and his eyes were filled with lust. “This way,”

He led you down the hall and up the stairs. Before you knew it, you were in the Afton’s bedroom, the door left slightly ajar. 

“Get on the bed for me, Princess,” he grinned. “I want to look at you,”

William chuckled as you immediately obeyed, pulling yourself up towards the headboard, sat on your knees, staring up at him expectedly. You were quivering, and it only made his cock harder.

The tulle ran up your thighs, its poorly constructed bottom beginning to leave nothing to the imagination. Your chest was heaving, exposing the outline of your breasts. Even though you were scared, you were so ready for him.

“I don’t want to get caught…” you said softly, a lump bobbing in your throat as he slowly approached you, staring you down like a piece of meat. “I’ll be fired,”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess,” he smiled, beginning to loosen his belt as he kept staring at you. “But it works two ways, you know…”

You nodded. 

“Is this your final wish?”

“No. I like to savour my treats…” he purred, pulling down his zipper. “Look up at me, doll,”

You obeyed, letting him take your face with his free hand, cupping your chin as he guided you to his cock. He was a little over average, and it was thick, with a prominent vein running along its side. He groaned and threw his head back as your warm mouth enveloped his cock, precum acting as lube and coating your lips like gloss. His grip remained firm on your face as he began to pump in and out of your mouth slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. You hollowed your cheeks on his cock, guiding your head along the skin as you used your tongue to lick the sides, earning a groan from William.

“Has this pretty Princess sucked cock before?” he teased. “Of course you have…You’ve never had one like this before though, hm? Married, daddy dick,”

You managed a ‘Mmfh’ in response, unable to speak. The man chuckled and let go of your face, letting you do the work whilst he caressed your body, admiring your wings and stroking your neck, his hands making their way down to your chest. You wasted no time in using your hands to grip his base, holding him still as you began to eagerly suck him off, taking him as far as you could whilst your hands jerked him off at the base.

He huffed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in a vest, showing off his slightly hairy chest. He looked down at you, and you looked up at him, secretly satisfied at the way his eyes were half lidded with desire. It was his daughter's birthday, and his wife was 30 mins away, and yet here he was getting a blowjob from the hired entertainment. It was so sinful, and he’d barely even begun.

“Go deeper, Princess. For me…” he commanded, his voice breathy. You did, and his thick tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Pulling away, a trail of spit connected your mouth to his cock, and the man tutted, scooping it with his finger to run it over your swollen lips.

Had you disappointed him?

“I can do it —” you insisted, psyching yourself up to go again, but he stopped you, bending down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Lie back,” he said simply. “I have a surprise of my own,”

He opened a drawer, fumbling around through the contents before he pulled out a box — to a vibrator.

“It’s all clean,” he said, holding it up teasingly. “You got one of these, Princess? Or are you too much of a good girl for them – Maybe there’s a Prince around to do the job for you…?”

You shook your head. There was one guy named Mike who’d sold you the tires of your car once, but you’d never really pursued him.

“Hm,” William hummed gleefully. “ ‘Got this for Sarah as a fun little Valentine's gift ‘n she never used it. She’s a fucking prude, as you can tell. But you’re going to be my good little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” you replied, and he smirked as he opened the box, wasting no time in sorting it out. 

In a moment he clicked it on, and the quiet house was filled with whirring which filled you with anticipation. It’d been a while since you’d had sex, let alone anything penetrating.

William leaned down, hands on either side of your body as he snaked his hands up the sides of your thighs, calluses brushing the material of your skirt away before he reached your panties.

“I’m gonna put this inside you, okay Princess? Be a good girl for me…”

You hadn’t realised it was a dual operator. 

The rubbery material slid into your folds as he pushed your panties aside with his hands, allowing for the other nub to rest on your clit, leaving the base sticking out of your body. If that wasn’t torture enough, he covered the bottom with your panties, placing them back into position and leaving you with no escape.

The machine began to pulse and vibrate, leaving you as nothing but a squirming mess.

William chuckled at the sight below him, taking a moment to watch you squeal and call out for him as he lazily jerked his cock. This was far better than any porn. Or sex with his wife, for that matter.

You arched your back and clung onto the sheets as it continued to fuck you, the outside handle massaging your clit in circles, sending shockwaves through your body. You’d never been fucked like this, and it was even more sinful knowing it came from a married man.

“Please Sir…” you begged, eyes watery as you stared at him, arms outstretched. “I need —“

“Does the Princess need her King? He’s coming, doll,” he cooed, desire laced in his throaty chuckle. He walked over to you and took your hand, but assumed his position back at your mouth, taking a moment to run his heavy shaft over your wanting lips. You took him in your mouth like a good girl, making sure you teased his balls with your tongue.

He groaned, legs shaking as he ran his fingers to the top of your dress, roughly pulling it down to just below your breasts and began to fondle them with his large hands. He squeezed and tugged on your nipples, bringing you to a point of complete overstimulation as the vibrator continued its motions within you. The room was filled with sounds of wetness from both your mouth and cunt, and judging by the way you were beginning to desperately paw on William’s thighs he could tell you were close.

“Are you gonna cum, doll? You gonna cum all over my wife’s vibrator?”

You whined an ‘uh-huh’ as you nodded your head, and William grinned down at you, pulling himself from your mouth.

“Good,” he hummed. “Open your legs nice and wide for me Princess. I want to watch you,” 

You did so and he stood over you, inspecting you as if he were a doctor. You were beginning to see white, and you barely noticed that the man had dropped to his knees, face-to-face with your aching pussy. In a second, he dragged you towards him and buried his face between your legs, underneath all the layers of tulle and petticoat. He swiftly removed the vibrator and replaced it with his tongue and lithe fingers, flicking at your bud and pumping in and out of you, your juices beginning to coat his digits.

It was heaven when you came. You were so overwhelmed that you’d actually locked your legs around him; allowing him to receive all of your fluids across his face and fingers. He lapped you up like he was starving, his hands holding a steady grip on your thighs and waist, making it clear that you belonged to him.

As you rode off your high, you began to feel sleepy. William emerged from under your dress, looking rather proud of himself as he wiped a droplet of your juices from his beard. You mustered the strength to prop yourself up, and as you did he pulled you into a sloppy kiss by your neck, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You bit your lip as you pulled away, watching the man intently as he dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude.

“Keep your clothes on for me, doll,” he smiled sinisterly. “You look so pretty in that dress. I promise I won’t ruin it…”

Shifting so that you were amongst the pillows, you instinctively hiked up your skirt, watching as William climbed over you. Even though you were fully clothed, you felt completely naked under his gaze, and the severity of the situation finally sunk in on you.

Here you were, the image of innocence and grace, draped across the marital bed of the parents of the child you were supposed to entertain - on her birthday no less - whilst the husband straddled you, ready to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sarah, Vanessa and the other children could come home any minute. 

“William…” you whispered, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I-I’m scared…”

He grinned. He hoped you were scared of what he was going to do to you, and the idea of being caught by his wife. 

“Shh,” he hummed. “I’ve got you,”

He lifted your legs to either side of him so that your lower back was elevated, and your thighs rested on his own as he lined up with your entrance. He took a moment to tease your slit, rubbing his sticky head along your wet folds, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He pushed into you with little warning and your back arched, relishing in the bittersweet feeling of being stretched open. You thought he was going to begin moving, but he continued to push into you, making sure that the ring of juices you’d left on his cock was entirely covered. He wanted you to take him whole.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, voice rumbling from the inside of his chest. “You’re so tight…I haven’t had a pussy like this in ages…”

“Will…” you stammered, shutting your eyes as you felt him bottom out within you, balls resting on your skin. “Oh my God…” 

“Such a perfect little Princess,” he said, relishing in the sight of your skin-on-skin. Holding your thighs apart, he pulled back slowly before beginning to fuck into you, the contact making obscene sticky sounds. You had no choice but to grip the bed sheets as he drew long, agonising strokes into you, savouring the moment. Something about it was strangely intimate.

Once William found his rhythm he briefly let go of your thighs to grope your tits through the material before pulling it down and manhandling them himself. They moved with every thrust as your head lolled, mouth open and whining as he fucked you. 

William was a man of many feats, but he’d never believed he'd be able to have this. He wanted you to be his naughty little elf for Christmas, his Cupid for Valentines, and his present for his birthday. Just you, bound by ribbon with a bow on your head would be good enough.

“You like this, hm? Ever fucked another dad like me? They must love having you around,” he snarled, and your pussy clenched at the image.

“N-Noo…” you whispered, squealing as William abruptly slapped your cunt..

“No?” he repeated. “Hm, of course not. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? A true Princess…”

You nodded, leaning up as William leant down to meet your lips in another sloppy kiss, giving him the ammunition to drill his cock into you further, your legs now by his shoulders.

God, this was the best fuck you’d ever had.

He steadied himself on either side of you, and you could feel his hot, heavy breaths from his nose and mouth as he continued to fuck you, eye contact unwavering. 

As his thrusts became sloppier, you felt your stomach knot up, signalling yet another orgasm.

“William…I’m - I’m close…”

“Again, baby?” he hummed. “And here I was thinking I’d get to fuck your ass…Hm, there’s always a next time…”

You hardly acknowledged the implication.

“Y-You gotta — “

“Pull out?” he teased, withdrawing his hips, legs shaking as his nerves tingled and he entered you for the final time. “Oh no, Princess, I can’t do that! I could stain your pretty dress or ruin your makeup…”

He was so considerate.

You nodded, locking your arms around his neck as the weight of his body forced you into the mattress. You squeezed your eyes shut as you came, toes curling as your walls clamped down on his cock, making him feel bigger than before (if that were even possible). It wasn’t long before he came, grunting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he filled your pussy with his hot cum. He held you there for what felt like forever, making sure every drop wasn’t wasted, nor spilled onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, words broken between pants as he began to pull out, watching as the creamy fluids glistened in the natural light, even trickling down to his balls. You looked absolutely spent, and if you didn’t have a job to do he would’ve let you lie there.

Managing to pull yourself up, it was mostly silent until you heard a car enter the driveway, causing you to spring into motion. 

“William, we’re home!”

“Shit…” you murmured, looking around. How would it look if you both came down the stairs?

“Here, take this,” William said nonchalantly, handing you a pink envelope. “Vanessa’s room is at the end of the hall. I trust you know how to improvise...”

You nodded, brushing your skirt into place as you hastily began to leave. William stopped you, raising a hand as if to ‘halt’, and tenderly fixed your tiara, a sly smirk wiped across his face as he did. As he let go, his hands stroked your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You took the digit into your mouth briefly before planting a gentle kiss onto the tip, smiling back up at him innocently.

Keys were in the door.

“My final wish…” he uttered, “…Is that you come and work for me. We could really use an Easter Bunny…”

@fandomwritingbit @ahsxual

#florence writes!! #my magnum opus #for now #william afton smut #william afton x reader smut #william afton x reader #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #fnaf smut

[runa-falls]

pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader

part one: marc

a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:)

others: steven | jake | more steven

as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:

(NSFW 18+ under the cut)

marc: the wretched

Marc is a self-deprecating man and the first alter you met. He's always very serious about his work, even when directors come up with ridiculous scenarios for him to act out.

At first, he refused you, convincing himself that all he needed to prep for scenes was his hand and his phone. That didn't last long. He was struggling to get through shooting days and often forced production to extend over their time. So you were called.

He didn't expect a girl like you to come onto set. You looked like a normal civilian, clothed in comfortable jeans and a tank top. You didn't look like you belonged anywhere near the porn industry.

The first session with you immediately changed his mind. You figured him out within a handful of minutes, watching closely to how he'd react to different touches and situations.

You never take your clothes off for him because that's how he likes it. There's this unspoken power dynamic that would surprise a lot of his fans as he's known for being dominant in videos. With you, he's the one who's stripped down as you climb into his lap fully clothed.

He sighs, hands gripping your waist as the rough texture of your jeans rubs against his sensitive skin. You grind down on him because you know he likes it rough and you can already feel him stiffening under you.

He's not submissive in a way where he whines or begs, he just takes whatever you'll give him. Sometimes you'll refuse his kisses, pulling back or looking away when he gets too close, too needy. It only turns him on further because he thinks he deserves it.

Other times you'll only kiss him. You'll make out with him for the full 15 minutes he has to prepare while never touching him once and he'll last the whole scene.

But his favorite sessions are when you edge him over and over again until he's physically trembling under you. He'll never admit it but he loves when you sit on his lap. He secretly craves your closeness and the intimacy that your presence brings, so when you edge him you're perched on his lap so you both have to watch as your hand pumps his cock in between your bodies.

The handjobs are nothing special, but he crumbles from your touch anyway. You've found that you can break him in mere minutes when you make him look at you, eye-to-eye.

"Look at me, baby." You purr, using your open hand to tilt his head up. His eyes are droopy and red, a product of two edging sessions right before this. Your gazes lock and he's shivering in your hold. "Come on, give it to me." You give him a teasing squeeze and he about falls over. His breaths start to speed up and you know he's getting close.

A glance at the clock says you have 4 minutes until call time.

With one more stroke you pull away.

He lets out a low grunt and his body shudders from how sensitive he is. You be a breeze could finish him off.

Maybe you went overboard... usually you only edge him once, but three times?

He'll probably be back in this room in 20 minutes from cumming too early. Dammit.

"Ok, you have like... 3 minutes. You ready?"

You've learned to be casual, to take him out of the scene as fast a possible so he can focus. He's still sitting on the armchair, trying to calm down.

"I, uh. I think I need a minute." Marc won't look at you.

Yeah, maybe three was too much.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight #headcannons #pornstar!marc #pornstar!marc spector #marc spector smut #pornstar!moon boys

[astrolynnworld]

movie date

pairings: switch!chris x reader

summary: you and chris are at the movie theater and chris starts to get horny.

warnings: smut, switch chris, fingering, oral, exhibitionism, language, mommy/daddy kink, praise.

a/n: since you guys loved my last sub story with chris i decided to give you guys a best of both worlds 🫡

word count: 1,255

chris holds the door for you as you guys walk into the theater

“after you, princess” he says as he gestures his hand out for me to go first. i laugh at the corniness that is chris sturniolo

nonetheless i walk in first as he trails behind me. we had already bought our tickets online so we just had to go to the employee working at the front desk to confirm our purchase and further allow us entry.

“do you want anything to eat before we go in, bae?” chris asks

“can we share a popcorn please?” i ask back

“i love when you know what i like” he remarks with a smile

after getting our popcorn, we find the theater number for our showing and get comfortable in the first open seats we could find.

as the trailers play, me and chris are having little side conversations about which movies look interesting enough to see for future dates.

we continuously eat our popcorn as the lights dim, signaling that the movie will begin soon.

about 10 minutes into the movie i decided to lift the arm rest up and get comfortable in chris’s lap as we finish the last bits of popcorn

“why does every movie theater have to be freezing?” i ask rhetorically

chris laughs, “here” he says while taking off his sweater to wrap around me while i lay on his lap

i smile as the small romantic gesture.

we continue to watch the movie without a word. although, i do start to shuffle around trying to find a better position where my body wont feel uncomfortable.

soon after, i start to hear chris’s heartbeat pick up.

“are you okay?” i ask the anxious boy

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he responds

i leave it alone from there.. until i start to feel an growing imprint on my back

chris was getting hard. what from? i don’t know

“chris .. are you hard?” i ask

“im sorry.. i can’t help it when you’re this close to me, i can feel the warmth of your body” he replies.

“do- do you want me to take care of it?” i say while raising up so i can get closer to his face

“but- y/n there’s people around” chris says while anxiously looking around

“come on chris, there’s nobody in our row. nobody will be able to see, all you have to do is just keep quiet.. can you do that for me like a good boy?” i say while rubbing on his hard dick

“hugh.. of course i can miss” chris states while entering his submissive state

i personally love when chris is submissive, he gets so needy and cute. i would do nothing more than to always be the one in charge when it came to chris

“good boy.” i reply, knowing these words are his weak spot

i pull out his dick and start softly touching the tip just to tease him a little. he throws his head back on the chair.

the movie theater was dark but that doesn’t stop me from seeing the red throbbing tip that lies in front of me

“when’s the last time you touched yourself, chris?”

“i don’t touch myself, i wait for you”

now if i wasn’t already turned on by this whole scenario, this sentence would have sent me into a spiral.

i knew the last time we had sex was over 3 days ago, had he really not cum in three days?

“good. i want you to always keep it like that. good boys don’t cum when mommy’s not around”

i felt it throb in my hand.

“awe do you like when i talk to you like this baby?”

“mommy please.” he whines

“please what, baby?”

“please put it in your mouth” he tries to whisper

with this phrase i immediately put as much of him in my mouth as i could.

the speed of my motion caught him off guard so he let out a huff that almost blew our cover.

i put my right hand over his mouth and used my left hand to stroke whatever could not fit in my mouth.

i stroke stroke stroke, spit spit spit, lick lick lick, just being sloppy on his dick cause i knew that’s what he liked the most.

“fuck y/n your mouth is absolutely amazing” he iterated in an exasperated moan

he started to thrust up into my mouth, forcing his cock deeper.

gagging on his dick, i let him continue because i knew he was about to cum

“omg omg omg i’m gonna-“ the boy says before releasing spurts of semen down my throat

“fuck y/n..” he says out in breathy moans

i swallow his semen and give him a kiss to further lay back in my original position

“oh we’re not done” he says after i get back in my spot on his lap

“wha-“ i’m cut short as i feel his hands slide down into my underwear

“you’re so wet baby, is that all from me?”

the code switch drove me insane, how he went from calling me mommy 3 minutes ago to calling me baby in that patronizing tone

“hmm? i need you to speak for me baby” he says while gently rubbing my clit in circles

“fuck chris, yes this is from you.” i say inbetween breaths trying to maintain my volume

“you sound so good when you say my name like that” he says keeping the pace steady

“chris i need you to go faster please” i plead

“beg me princess.” he says in a stern dominant tone

how could a sentence be so hot?

“please chris please go faster, i neeeed to feel you so bad… do your worst to me daddy”

this ignited a new passion in chris, a passion to make you a fuzzy brained mess for his fingers.

“you’re gonna regret saying that, princess”

he uses the wetness of my pussy to slide his fingers on in.

i freeze at the feeling of his fingers going in because immediately after, he starts thrusting his fingers inside of me as a pace uncomprehending

“chri- chris.” i moan quietly while trying to pull away from him

“don’t move princess, don’t you wanna be a good girl?” he says mockingly

i thrust my body up trying to follow the rhythm of his fingers as he pushes and curls his fingers deeper inside of me

“that’s it my pretty girl, feel good for me”

i continue to use my body to push into his fingers, feeling the knot in my stomach start to untie.

he pulls his fingers out and starts fastly circling my clit once again so he can help me reach my climax.

i cover my mouth in pleasure while pushing out the feeling of my orgasm.

“cum for me princess, you’re doing so good” he says as he talks me through it

losing control of my hips i start bucking into his hand while letting out my high.

“you just squirted all over the chair” chris says as i relax my body

“huh?” i have him repeat

“the chair.. look”

the chair next to us was covered in my juices

“oh my god.” i say as a notice the scene

“we need to clean this up” i continue

“after baby, i wanna enjoy you for right now.” chris says

he grabs me back in his lap to cuddle as we finish the movie.

“we’re definitely gonna have to rewatch this movie” i say laughing

“oh yeah for sure” he responds.

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a/n: thank y’all for reading this!! hope you guys enjoyed <33

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[monstersandmaw]

Male drider x trans male reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Commission number three! This one got away with me, for sure. Hope you folks enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!!

Content: trans male reader, some afab language to refer to the reader’s lower parts during non-penetrative, oral sex; chest area not mentioned. Kidnapping, some threat to life and mild injury (not from drider), brief mention of blood and stitches. Reader has submissive tendencies, enjoys being restrained, and the drider is gently dominant. 

Wordcount: 10,123(!)

Running headlong into the dark pines that made up the forest which, according to your captors, had acquired such nicknames as the ‘The Bone Garden’, ‘Spectre’s Haunt’, and the ‘Blood Wood’ was probably not the wisest decision you’d ever made, but you’d been held by these thugs for four days of hard riding, and you were ready to risk it all to escape.

Had it really only been four days since you’d locked the door to your tidy little cottage on the edge of the village? With a gleaner’s bag slung over one shoulder and a basket in hand, you’d set out in search of the mushrooms that only grew at this time of year when the conditions were perfect — not hot and dry, not yet frosty, and just rainy enough. They loved the misty turn of the year almost as much as you did.

Without a care in the world, you’d stepped out along the weed-strewn gravel path that led through your herb garden, latched the wooden gate behind you, and meandered through the houses as the sounds of the village waking began to fill the air.

Gwyn had recently lit his forge and the rush of the bellows to stoke the heat reminded you of a dragon’s steady breathing; in and out, in and out. You’d snaked past the bakery just to swipe a fresh cinnamon roll before Garrick or Mercy or any of the woodcutters who also tended to rise early could finish them all off, and the orc behind the counter gave you the biggest one he had and a wink that made you just a little gooey inside yourself. “You’re a shameless flirt, Thom,” you said as you slid your coppers across the counter to him with two fingers.

“Hey, a man can dream, right, gorgeous?”

He was pretty fine himself, but he wasn’t really your type, and you’d made that clear when he’d asked you to dance at the first Spring Equinox dance you’d attended after moving to the village, then just a lowly herbalist’s apprentice. Ever since, you’d fallen into an easy banter of flirting that was destined to go nowhere, and it was harmless fun for both of you. You left the bakery with a smile on your face, and headed past Gwyn’s forge as you made your way north out of the village.

The smith, a colossal centaur with a dapple grey coat and a thick, white mane and tail that made anyone with long hair in the village green with envy, called after you and beckoned you over. “Headed north?” he asked with an uncharacteristic scowl.

“Yeah, why?”

“Take care, alright? Mercy said she’d seen sign of bandits in the area, and Willem said he’d heard talk of people being snatched when he took those fleeces to market last week. You shouldn’t be going out alone. None of us should really, not til things calm down.”

A little growl of frustration left you and you adjusted the gleaner’s bag on your shoulder. “I really need these supplies, Gwyn,” you said. “They’re ingredients I need to help fight off winter fevers, and if I don’t have enough, we could be in trouble come the cold in a few weeks’ time…”

“Can’t you take Garrick or Mercy with you? A good woodsman’s felling axe’ll do a hell of a lot more damage than that little sickle you’ve got on your belt…”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you breezed. “I’m not going to be on the main road anyway.”

“Please take care,” he rumbled, and you smiled up at the enormous blacksmith. He might have had the shoulders of a rock troll and iron-shod hooves big enough to knock down a castle door, with a big burn mark all up his left arm from an accident at the forge a decade ago, but he was the gentlest and most softly-spoken person you knew.

You cursed yourself three hours later when your basket of rare, purple mushrooms lay trampled to a slimy paste on the floor of the clearing and a nasty looking wood elf with a sneer and a cruel glint in her eye had her bow trained on you, while a second elf trussed you up like a solstice bird. Your head was ringing from the surprise blow they’d dealt you to the back of the skull, and you were lucky you didn’t have a worse concussion.

“You’ll make a nice little offering for the mage,” the female elf purred while her companion straightened and marched you on unsteady feet back towards the road. “Humans like you always fetch a decent price. Something about your blood being universal for most rituals, I think…”

There on the dirt road, four horses were waiting, three of which were a normal size while the last was built like a castle wall and large enough to carry the orc sitting astride it. The orc had one milky eye and the brand of a murderer across his right cheek. “Shit,” you hissed when you saw that, and the male elf laughed cruelly when you flinched as the orc swung down and prepared to heave you onto the back of the spare horse.

Normally, if you were going to be tied up and bent over something for some rough treatment, this was not how it went. There was absolutely nothing fun or consensual about the way these bandits chucked you over the back of the horse and lashed your hands and feet to the tack so you didn’t slide off. The orc guffawed and spat off to one side when you cried out on impact as your ribs creaked and your lungs expelled all the air they’d ever contained in one ugly grunt. After that, you did just about everything you could to move with the rhythm of the cantering horse, but it was probably the most miserable experience of your life. When the group slowed to trot, the motion was so painful that you actually slipped into unconsciousness for a while, only to be jounced back some time later.

At the crossroads about ten miles north of your village — the furthest north from your little patch of paradise you’d ever roamed — they met up with a couple of other riders who had apparently been on a recce of their own to look for more people for this blood mage or whoever, but they got laughed at by the orc on his enormous, cantankerous horse for not finding any victims and rode off again without joining the party.

So, it was just you, alone in the wilderness, being taken gods-knew-where, by two feral elf siblings and a murderous orc. Stowed like a sack of potatoes over that rangy, stinking horse for five hours of hellish riding, you were barely conscious. When they eventually stopped to make camp that night, they did let you relieve yourself in relative privacy, but once you were done, they hauled you back to their pack animals and lashed you to a tree next to them so that you couldn’t hope to escape. You could still smell the stink of them though, and it was enough to turn your empty stomach.

Their food was revolting, and their company equally repulsive. They joked loudly about all the cruel things they’d done to people in the past, and you sat there wondering why you hadn’t let Gwyn talk you into going out with the woodcutters. There were mushrooms where they were currently coppicing hazel for the winter, but no. No, you’d decided to be adventurous and clever, and to collect only the best mushrooms for your salves and tonics.

Four days later, you were almost ready to give up.

The mage’s castle they were taking you to was legendary in the northern reaches, and no one who was taken there against their will ever returned. Tales of blood magic and horrific rites involving chimera and creatures brought back from the dead had entered the local lore, and now apparently you were going to be drained of your precious blood for whatever this necromancer had planned next. And the price of that precious blood had been discussed and debated by the bandits for the last day.

Personally, you agreed with the female elf and thought you were worth more than a couple of weeks’ wages in gold, but you had no intention of allowing yourself to be squeezed dry like an orange for your blood. So, after the group stopped in a dark and snow-mottled pine forest after the fifth day of hard riding, you enacted your plan. You’d been plotting it all day, and hoped you weren’t too delirious and weak to pull it off.

When they’d let you relieve yourself the previous night, they’d not bothered to tie your hands together or watch you, since there was nowhere for you to go. You knew woodlands though, and you were pretty confident that if you gave them the slip in the dark, you could take care of yourself in the wild for a few days. Long enough to get back home anyway.

So when they started their daily round of bragging and trading boasts about how many vampires they’d killed or how they’d survived the venom of three different nagas in the same attack, you made your move.

If that darned twig hadn’t snapped, you might have got away with it, but when the male elf barked, “Oi!” into the gathering dark and swung his lantern around, you knew you’d messed up.

Breaking cover completely and legging it into the endless ranks of black-barked pine trees in the fading light of day seemed like the only option now, so you began crashing through the debris and dead branches that had gathered beneath the choking canopy of dense pine needles overhead. 

These woods were different from any you’d known before, and something dark and foreboding lingered there like a shade above a gravestone. These woods were not kind. The air was not fresh and sweet like it was between the beech and oak back home. It pooled and festered, stagnant between the rough sentinel trees, and the lower branches seemed to reach their sharp, bare fingers towards your face as you ran like a rabbit from the pack of hunting dogs behind you.

Your toe caught a root and you stumbled, and in the space where your head had just been, an arrow whizzed through the air and sank into the tree ahead of you with a thunk that almost made your heart stop. Your lungs were burning already and your legs felt shaky and weak after your rough treatment and half-rotten rations, but a brush with death that close shocked you to the core. The water they’d given you had been rancid, and your stomach churned as adrenaline curdled in your gut, but somehow you forced yourself on into the darkness.

Their voices dwindled, muffled by the carpet of fallen pine needles, until a shout went up and another arrow flew past you. This time, it left a searing pain in its wake and you clutched at your ribs where the hunting broadhead had torn through your skin. Luckily, it was superficial, but it hurt like hell and it was bleeding. Blood might draw predators out of the darkness, if your blundering and their bellowing hadn’t already.

Shit, you hadn’t thought about the horrors that probably dwelled in a place like this.

The bandits had been crowing about the ghouls and rabid cannibals that supposedly haunted these woods, and you’d passed plenty of skeletons along the roadside on your journey, your down-turned head providing you with a first-class view of them as your half-lame horse had jolted past them at its permanent, slightly-panicked jog. They hadn’t all been pack animals and horses lying in the ditch either. Some of the skulls had been humanoid, and there had been the horns of a minotaur at some point. This was a place where living things entered unwillingly, and most of them never left.

Forcing yourself onwards, you clutched your stinging side, but they were closing on you. The orc was thundering through the forest like a boar on a rampage, and the elves were quick as shadows.

“You little shit!” the female shouted from right behind you. Something heavy hit you across the back of your knees and you tripped and fell hard onto your palms as a flung tree branch rebounded off onto the forest floor. The force of the fall sent your cheek smashing into the muddy ground and you cried out as she landed triumphantly atop you and turned you over, smacking you full in the mouth out of sheer frustration.

“Gotcha,” she grinned. “You’re gonna pay for running, little rabbit,” she added with a laugh as she hauled you to your feet.

You kicked her knee from the side as hard as you could and she yowled like a cat dropped into a bath, letting go of you to stagger sideways, limping. The thing about being a healer is that you also know the weak spots where it can hurt most.

Before she could turn on you again though, something moved in the trees behind you and you all froze. The orc crashed to a halt nearby breathing hard, and the elf’s brother came over to help her stand while she spat curses at you that would have made a pirate’s ears bleed.

“What is it?” the orc growled, low and tense.

“Fuck knows. Tie him up again and let’s get the fuck back to camp,” the female elf wheezed. “I’m gonna drag him behind my horse for the rest of the way there. Shit that hurts!”

“Quiet,” her brother hissed. “Something’s out there.”

“Then let’s get fucking moving!” she countered.

You turned to glance over your shoulder and caught the shape of something white drifting in the distant trees just as the orc spotted it too. His grip tightened on the haft of his huge war-axe, and he took half a step back. Until then, he’d been the one who’d seemed steadiest; unshakable and immovable as a cannon, and he hit just as hard. Now though, he looked spooked and scared.

“They say the Death-Spinner hunts in these parts,” he said, eyes wide as he looked from side to side. “A massive white drider that strikes from the shadows and wraps you up in his web and sucks you dry…”

“It’s been too long since someone sucked you dry,” the female elf sneered at him, though the remark came out feebly and she looked around her in a twitchy, nervous motion. “Your blue balls are making you hallucinate. Come on. What are you waiting for?”

“He’s got other names too, you know,” her brother interrupted, reaching for you with a jerky movement that halted when the steady rhythm of something moving nearby rose above the whispering of the wind in the canopy. “Soul-Eater, The Weaver Ghost…”

“Please, the Death-Spinner is just a myth…” the female on your right hissed.

“Decidedly… not,” came a thin, harsh voice from the trees ahead, and your captors just bolted.

The supposedly tough bandits – the ones who had been talking about selling an actual person to a bloodmage to use in some disgusting ritual; who had joked just the previous night about flaying a minotaur like a cow on a butcher’s block; who had told you that there was nothing out here that would give a single, flying fuck about you – had fled with no more than a shriek and the clatter of boots in the dead underbrush, and left you alone with the being they called ‘Death-Spinner’.

“Better and better,” you spat, still tasting blood in your mouth from where the elf had cracked you across the mouth. “First it was ‘sold to a blood mage’ and now it’s ‘death by drider’.”

A pearlescent pale leg speared down out of the gloom that gathered between the black pines, its ivory chitin shining softly. Shaped like a thin, curved shard of polished bone, the limb moved with slow, silent grace, and it was joined by a second, needle-slender limb, then a third and a forth, until the white underbelly of the creature loomed large into your limited pool of light, followed finally by the lower part of a humanoid torso, and the large, armour-plated abdomen of the creature.

The whole of the eight-legged being was utterly colourless.

White and pendulous as the moon, the drider’s chitinous body looked like drifts of wind-blown snow that had then set into solid ice, swirling and churning across its body to rise in small peaks and troughs at the joints and high points of its legs and over the swollen curve of its abdomen.

The humanoid torso melted upwards at the hips from the body of the spider, and two, smaller, pincer-like limbs — pedipalps — were angled slightly inwards, both ending in single, wicked talons and looking like they were ready to spear you through the middle in the blink of an eye.

The drider wore no clothes, and patches of white chitin formed a kind of armour up its humanoid torso: over the hips but skirting around its lean belly, then up over its shoulders like pauldrons and creating natural bracers and gauntlets along its long, wiry arms. Its hands, you saw as it dipped a little lower into the faint glow from the elves’ abandoned lantern, were clawed, but its slightly curved talons weren’t like those of a mammal. They were simply an unbroken extension of the chitin that covered its hands and forearms.

Its face remained mostly out of sight, wreathed in the upper shadows of the trees, but you got the impression of two reddish eyes glinting at you in the dark, and long, silk-white hair flowing down its back.

“You’re bleeding,” came the slightly hoarse tenor that made your skin prickle. A creature that large should have a deeper voice, but the mellifluous timbre of the drider’s tone made you think of sirens luring sailors to their death with sweet songs and empty, deceitful promises.

“Only a bit,” you choked out, stepping back and catching your heel on the branch that the female elf had used to trip you. When you fell hard onto your backside, you caught the glint of steel in the sea of rust-red pine needles all around you, and realised that one of the elves had dropped their precious sword in their haste to escape this creature.

In a rush of blind panic, you snatched up the unfamiliar weapon and held it aloft. “Stay back!” you barked.

The laugh that rippled out of the drider chilled your blood.

“Please,” it crooned, and then it loomed down out of the shadow and into the light, squinting its two scarlet eyes against the sudden brightness. “As if a little stick like that could hurt something like me.”

The sword fell from your fingers as weakness washed through you, and you bit back a sob. “Please,” you said instead. “Please, they brought me here to sell me to a necromancer, but I… I don’t want to die like this either.”

“Die?” the drider said, and its red gaze flickered to the wound in your side. “You won’t die from that. A few silk stitches and a rest, and you’ll be good as new…” It frowned again, its white eyebrows pulling in like a loose thread in a perfect tapestry. “You’re filthy,” it said, and you noticed a diagonal scar cutting across its pale mouth as its lip pulled up on one side in a gesture of revulsion.

“Yeah, well, you try being thrown over the back end of a bandit’s horse for five days and see if you’re still that pretty at the end of it,” you retorted, exhaustion making you bold and just a little bit stupid.

The drider laughed, the sound like autumn leaves rolling down the road, and you paused. It sounded genuinely amused.

“Come, human,” it said, holding out a clawed hand. “Let’s get you somewhere where you can rest in safety.”

“Safety? What… What about… all that ‘Death-Spinner’ stuff?”

The drider paused, its huge body hanging in the twilight like a pearl. “I have no interest in consuming sapient creatures, but the rumours help to keep people out of my forest. It’s as much for their safety as mine,” it went on. “There are nastier things even than me in these parts.” The self-deprecating venom in its tone drew you up short.

“You don’t seem so bad…”

“Thank you,” it replied with flat sarcasm.

You took three more steps towards the drider before your legs gave out. In a flash faster than thought, the drider darted at you, and before you could even flinch, strong, armoured arms had caught you and lifted you up.

“You poor thing,” it crooned, and you looked up properly into its face for the first time. “You’ve really been through it, haven’t you? Easy now. I’ll take care of you.”

“Why?” you breathed, trying not to let your treacherous muscles relax into the solid frame that held you. You felt the chitin of its chest against your shoulder as it bore you along in a strangely smooth, gliding motion, the dark trunks of the trees whipping past in a blur.

“Evidently I have a soft spot for brave and lost creatures,” the drider smiled. “My name is Feluän, by the way.”

You exhaled your own name in return, and then said, “Isn’t Feluän an elven name? Some prince or something…?”

“You know your history,” the drider chuckled. “Yes, he was a prince of the snow elves a long time ago. I came across it in a history book I picked out of a caravan that was destroyed by a band of gnolls once. Their tastes run more towards beer than books…”

“I chose my own name too,” you said, the consonants feeling thick and slurred as the tiredness seeped throughout your whole body and the pain in your side mounted. “You’re a male drider then? If you named yourself after a prince, I mean. I don’t know anything about your kind really. Never… Never met one before.”

“Hush for now,” he said, squeezing you a little more tightly into his arms and drawing a moan unbidden from your lips. Gods, even in these circumstances, it felt so good to be held like this. “But yes, I am.”

The journey through the dark forest passed in a hazy blur, until you had the vague impression of torchlight and soft firelight and you were laid down on the softest surface you thought you'd maybe ever touched in your life. A long, deep groan left you and you suddenly didn’t care what happened to you.

“I’m going to stitch you up,” came the drider’s voice from somewhere nearby. “It might hurt. I can use a little of my venom to numb the area if you like…”

You nodded, not wanting any more pain, and out of the corner of your eye, you watched the drider’s white body move in the blurry shadows of the cave. He loomed over you and pressed the tip of one clawed finger to his upper canine, before bringing it to your side where he’d hitched up your shirt just enough to access the glancing wound from the arrow. A blissful numbness crept like winter ice across your skin, and you let the drider tend to you.

Tiredness claimed you not long after, but you had the distinct impression of a warm cloth being wiped gently across your face and hands before blackness washed in and you slept.

Over the course of the next few days, Feluän tended to your wound, and you forgot to be afraid of the strange creature. Centaurs had always held a fascination for you, with their animal lower halves and their humanoid upper bodies, and the way the drider moved was no less fascinating. When he wasn't tending to you, he was weaving linen and silk into the most wondrous bolts of fabric. His cave was dotted here and there with trinkets that he’d clearly pilfered from the sporadic ‘visitors’ to his part of the world, but aside from that, the cave was just that: a grotto carved out of a rise in the ground in the middle of a dank, desolate forest.

“You live alone?” you asked on the first evening you felt strong enough to get out of bed without his help. Until then, he’d forced you to stay still, and honestly, you’d been only too happy to let him boss you about and carry you around. He was sweet, but he didn't take no for an answer, and he didn’t let you wheedle your way out of anything either. Your best ‘puppy-dog’ eyes had crumbled his iron resolve a bit though, and finally he’d let you get out of his soft, cosy bed to join him by the gentle light of flames in the fire pit at the centre of his cave.

Feluän nodded. “Yes. I have spent my whole life alone. Driders are not sociable with each other by nature, and most people fear us too much to want us anywhere near them, as you saw yourself when your captors realised I was there.”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” you said as you took the carved wooden cup he offered you. It had some kind of sharp, pine-needle tea in it and he looked embarrassed that that was all he could offer you to drink apart from water. In the few days you’d been there, you’d had some kind of game broth which, while nutritious, hadn’t been particularly flavoursome. “I didn’t think I’d find anyone out here more intimidating than that orc, but you managed it.”

Across the fire, his ruby red eyes glittered and he laughed, tilting his head in your direction. He didn’t always meet your eye, you realised, and you wondered if his albinism affected his eyesight. “I live to serve,” he purred.

“The way you behave, I’d say you live to be served, but what do I know?”

Again, he laughed. “You offering, little human?” he said, cocking a white eyebrow in a way that made you feel a little dizzy.

“I might, if the rewards for service were worth it,” you replied archly, sipping the sharp tea. Its flavour reminded you of the tinctures you brewed at home, and of the people who would need you as the autumn drew to a close and winter began to coil around the edges of the village. Your shoulders dropped, and you sighed, steam from the cup swirling in front of your eyes for a moment.

“You clearly don’t think I could offer you much,” he said dryly.

“It’s not that,” you said. “It’s… I have a responsibility to the people in my village. I’m a herbalist, and the whole reason I was captured was because I was out looking for ingredients that would help fight winter fevers. If I don’t get home before the snows settle in, they’ll suffer.”

He shifted his weight where he was resting casually with all his long, spiny limbs tucked close to his pendulous body, and you realised he was feeling uncertain. “It must be nice,” he began in a new, faltering voice that you’d not heard from him before. “Nice to have people… who need you. Who… Who look to you for protection…”

You laughed softly and shook your head. “I wouldn’t say I provide any kind of protection — you want an orc or a centaur like Thom or Gwyn for that — but I help people where I can, and they’ve been good to me. I was apprenticed with their previous healer, and when he passed, I took on his mantle.”

“Tell me about them?” Feluän asked, red eyes blinking slowly in his frost-pale face. His long, white hair fell down loose to frame his high cheekbones, and the scar on his mouth was the only element in his face that interrupted the otherwise perfect symmetry of him, and it made you want to press your lips to it and see what it felt like beneath your kisses.

You looked away.

“Tell me about them before I take you back tomorrow?”

“Wait, take me back? You’re coming too?”

“You’ll never make it out of these woods alive without me,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t go to all this effort to keep you alive just to turn you loose for the ghouls and shadow wraiths to tear you to pieces when the sun sets tomorrow night.”

“Shadow… wraiths?” you croaked, eyes flitting to the cave entrance where the dark night pressed in against the tiny light of the fire. You shuddered and Feluän smiled to reveal his double set of canines, the larger, outer pair of which were actually hollow fangs that could inject his paralytic venom into his prey.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he said with a rumbling, seductive purr in his tenor that went right through you to your core. “I’ll protect you. You’re safe here anyway. It’s warded.”

“Right.”

“Your people?” he prompted, and you started with Gwyn the dappled centaur. By the time you’d listed almost everyone in the village, your mind was slow and your eyes gritty with sleep. 

Some time earlier, Feluän had moved behind you so that you were resting your weight between his lethally-taloned pedipalps, buttressed up on either side by something that could skewer through you in the blink of an eye, and his hand had recently moved to card idly through your hair.

The world tilted slightly as you dozed off halfway through a sentence about Thom the orc who ran the bakery and made the most incredible fruit pies in autumn, and you realised that Feluän had picked you up again and was carrying you towards his wide, soft bed of silk webbing.

As he drew a feather-filled silk duvet up around your ears and you hummed with deep satisfaction, you heard him murmur, “I wish I could live somewhere like the place you described for me tonight. I wish I could know ‘home’ as you do, but I fear I would never be welcome somewhere like that.”

“They’d love you,” you mumbled. After all, you were half in love with him already and it had only been a few days.

The journey south took about a week. On the first day, you were forced to ride on his back after only a few miles due to the lingering ache in your side. “If you don’t get aboard, I will refuse to take you anywhere at all,” he said sternly, and a thrill of heat shot down your spine at the steel in his tone. “Do as you’re told, human.”

“Fine,” you croaked, ignoring just how much you liked the way he seemed to mingle concern, respect, and command in a single sentence. “Bossy.”

You did enjoy having your arms around his middle as you rode behind him though. And he was quick when he got scuttling along. 

Your pride did have you walking the next day, and before too long, you got to see the ‘Death-Spinner’ in action. In the rocky lower slopes of the pine forest, before it melted into a dewy, autumn meadow, a roar shattered the silence and a bear reared up from the thick grass, as surprised by your exit from the trees as you were by her.

Feluän hissed like a snake and immediately drew himself up, lashing out with his long front legs. Like twin swords, the lowest section of his legs flashed in the misty air and the bear threw herself up onto her hind legs with another bellowing roar.

The drider jabbed at her faster than your eyes could follow, nicking her ear and her shoulder in turn with left and right forelegs, his huge body filling the space between you and the threat like a bulwark. The bear turned on the spot and thundered away, and he dropped silently back to all eight legs and looked down at you. In the starker light of the meadow, he was squinting and his red eyes didn’t quite land on your face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, bare marble chest heaving. His clawed hands were curled at his sides and his arms looked incredible, and suddenly it was very hard to focus on anything but how gods-damned beautiful this creature was. He barked your name and lowered himself down, still squinting. “I can’t see very well in full daylight like this. I need you to tell me if you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you croaked at last, trying to swallow your inconveniently-timed arousal. “Are you? I’ve lived in the woods a long time, but I’ve never been that close to a bear before.”

“She really didn’t want to tangle with me,” he laughed, and you caught the way his articulated joints sagged in relief as his white hands found your shoulders and he squeezed you tightly for a second.

“You can’t see very well? What do you mean?”

He smiled sadly and let go of you. “As I understand it, people born like me, without pigmentation, often struggle with their vision, and bright sunlight in particular. I do anyway. Why do you think I chose the darkest place I knew of for my home?”

“I… I hadn’t really thought about it. You sure you want to be out here then? You didn’t have to walk me all the way home you know?”

“I want to,” he said, gesturing for you to continue on your way across the open meadow.

The overnight frost had melted a little, but it still lingered at the foot of the thicker tufts of grass and it crunched softly as you walked through it. Not Feluän though — he moved as silently as his spectral nickname suggested, but you did catch him tilting his head a little and inhaling, as though scenting the wind. His lips parted softly and you caught your best glimpse yet of his double set of canines. His tongue shifted a little behind his teeth, as though he was tasting something on the air, and you looked away. Everything about him was sensuous and it made you want to touch.

You were perhaps a day’s walk from the village now, but he still hadn’t turned back even though you’d told him you could manage alone from there.

That night at camp, you sat together as you had back in his cave, with you resting between the two smaller limbs that jutted out from his spider’s shoulder area. They twitched from time to time as he ate the now-roasted rabbit he’d skewered earlier for dinner with the talon at the end of one of them, and when you’d finished your meal, you reached out without thinking and ran your fingers down the chitin that covered them.

He jumped slightly and then went very still, but as you brought your hand closer to where the limb met his chest, he drew in a shuddering breath that made his whole body rock.

“Does that tickle?” you asked, wondering how much sensation he had with all that natural armour.

“Not exactly,” Feluän rasped. “It’s… It’s been a while since I’ve… since anyone’s — ah…” he gasped and his chest heaved. The little bone he’d been idly cleaning with his tongue dropped from his fingers to land in the carpet of beech and oak leaves around your feet.

“You want me to stop?”

“No,” he replied immediately. “Gods, don’t you dare stop.”

“Alright.”

You stood and faced him, and ran both hands up his ‘hips’ at the base of his humanoid torso. He shuddered again and sucked in another sharp breath. Gradually, you moved your touch up over the marble contours of his abs and ribs until you could reach no higher. “Come down here then,” you said quietly.

His scarred upper lip twitched and he surged down towards you, snatching you up in his hands and lifting you away from the fire. He pinned you against the smooth bark of a nearby beech trunk, and held you there four or five feet off the ground. His hands were secure around your waist as the spears of the two pedipalps lanced into the tree on either side of your face and you gasped, feeling heat rushing to your groin.

“The things you make me want to do to you, human,” he purred around a snarl, red eyes glowing in the night. His huge body was pale, standing out starkly against the darkness, and you felt a familiar, tingling weakness washing through you as he held you pinned there and growled those lustful words into your ears. You wanted him to take control. You wanted to submit to whatever pleasures he had in mind. It made your head go vague.

“What’s that then?” you slurred softly, dangling blissfully in his hold. “What do you want to do to me?”

“I want to tie you up with my silk,” he said, leaning in so he could kiss up your neck. He nipped at you, but not enough to break the skin or inject you with his numbing, paralytic venom. The trail his kisses left was cold though, and your flesh tingled. “I want you trussed and immobile for me while I give you every pleasure I can think of. Your body is so soft compared to mine. So vulnerable. I want it all. I want all of you.”

“You can,” you smiled. “Please.”

His lips twitched into another little snarl and he kissed you again. Your tongue tingled and you swallowed, realising a drop of his venom had landed there. “I can’t,” he said, stepping back and lowering you slowly to the ground. Your knees were too weak to take your weight at first and he steadied you.

“Why not?” Disappointment stung through the creeping haze in your head and helped to clear it a bit.

You glanced along his curved, spider’s abdomen and saw that a clear fluid was dripping slowly from a point on his underbelly. His obvious arousal looked obscene, and your core tightened at the sight of it. When he saw where you were looking, he shivered. “That’s what you do to me,” he croaked. “But I’ve lost too much control of myself tonight. I might hurt you.”

“Kiss me again?”

“No. My mouth is full of venom.”

Your breath caught and you bit your lip. “Please?”

“No.” He sounded angry now, and you looked away, ashamed of still wanting something he didn't want to give. When he saw the expression on your face though, his whole demeanour changed and he softened. “What is it?” he asked.

You shook your head, stepping back. “Forget it. You’re going home again tomorrow anyway. You’ll forget about me in no time.” But you wouldn’t forget about him.

Feluän’s lighting-fast reflexes left you breathless all over again as he snatched for your wrist when you turned away from him. “I will never forget you,” he hissed fiercely. “I can’t. You think I give every lost wanderer I find in my forest a personal escort home? If I had my way, I’d never leave your side again.”

The grip he had on your wrist was tight enough that it was just shy of painful, and you gasped, eyelids fluttering. You glanced down at where his claws were pricking into your skin and then slowly raised your gaze to his face. “Not helping…” you smirked softly.

He closed his eyes slowly and eased his grip just a fraction, and then he opened his eyes again, moved both hands to your face, cupped your jaw, and kissed your forehead. “Best I can do for the moment,” he said apologetically.

“You don’t have to go back, you know?” you said, giving voice to the idea that had been floating around your mind for a few days. “I mean, I know all your stuff is back there, but there’s a really cosy place that’s only a hundred yards or so from my cottage on the edge of the village. I think it would be perfect for you. You could… You could live there? If you wanted…”

Feluän raked his claws gently across your scalp and you shuddered. “And what of the rest of the village? What would they say about a monster taking up residence in their midst?”

“You’re not a monster,” you hissed, grabbing for his wrists and clinging to him while you glared up into his face. Gods, he was so beautiful, with his sharp features and red, gemstone eyes and his silver-white hair. “You’re not. How could they not love you once they got to know you?”

His throat worked and he lowered his spider body down, drawing his legs in so that he was as close to your eye level as he could get. “Do you really want me to stay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please. I — The thought of you going back to that horrible place with all those bones scattered everywhere, and no life — there’s no life in those woods, Feluän. It’s —” He silenced you with a kiss.

Your lips turned numb almost immediately but you felt his tongue brush yours as he growled and reared over you, overpowering you with just his presence. “The way you said my name,” he said. “No one’s ever spoken my name before. Say it again. I want to hear you say it again.”

“Feluän.”

“When we’re not camping in a forest, I’m going to take you apart, my beautiful human. I’m going to tie you up and take you to pieces when my mouth isn’t dripping with venom.”

“Could be fun for you to have your way with me while I can’t move…” you said.

“You wouldn’t be able to feel it either,” he said, deliberately moving away from you and breathing hard. “Gods, I’m a mess,” he chuckled. You glanced down and saw that he was leaking a little webbing too from the gland at the tip of his abdomen.

“So am I,” you said wryly, because you absolutely were.

“I know. I can smell it,” he said. “Taste it too.”

“Fuck,” you groaned. He’d smelled it earlier as well then, back in the meadow after he’d protected you. “You’d better live up to your promise, Feluän. I’m not letting you go home without feeling some of that silk around my wrists first.”

“Say my name again and I’ll give you anything you want.”

Getting to sleep that night proved difficult to say the least, but it helped that you both talked quietly, with you lying in his arms again, and when you woke to the gentle caress of his knuckles against your cheek, you blinked your eyes open and smiled up at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, awestruck by the creature looming over you. Honest delight lit up his whole face and he laughed quietly, helping you to your feet and brushing the dry leaves from your clothes and the borrowed cloak he’d lent you.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked as you kicked the cold ashes of the fire apart and made sure you left the forest as you’d found it. “You said we’re within a day’s walk of your home now?”

You nodded. “We’ll probably meet a few of the woodcutters on our way in — they’re working about three or four miles from the village at the moment, cutting hazel for fences and ash for firewood. If we meet anyone, let me do the talking?”

Feluän agreed, and you set off along the main road together.

“I’ll introduce you in the village if you like, and explain where I’ve been, and then I’ll say I’d like you to stay. If… If you want to.”

“I do,” he said. “I don’t have anything in that cave that I would particularly miss, but I could still go back and fetch it if I wanted to.”

The first people you met were indeed Garrick and Mercy, and when the satyr and the half-orc-half-elf saw the drider, they hefted their axes in their hands and stepped warily into the clearing they’d made beside the road. Mercy spotted you and called out your name, and you and Feluän held up your hands.

It took some persuading to let the two of you approach, but when you were close enough, Mercy dropped her axe and hugged you. “We’ve been so worried,” she said, squeezing you tight. With her muscles, it was enough to make you wheeze. “Gwyn and Thom and Gale searched for you for days but even Gale’s werewolf nose lost your scent when it rained. Gods, they’ve been beside themselves.”

“I’m only alive because of Feluän,” you said, gesturing to the pale drider who was waiting on the road. All his eight legs were drawn up tight and he looked tense and wary. At that distance, and in the clear, wintry light, you suspected he also couldn’t see very far, and for someone so powerful, he was probably feeling quite vulnerable. “I’d like him to live here with us. He was living alone in that dark forest, and I don’t think anyone should have to live alone like that. Not if they don’t want to.”

Garrick jutted his small tusks and said, “Driders aren’t exactly sociable creatures. What’s he gonna do around here?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” you said a little defensively. “While I was recovering in his care, he was processing and spinning flax and weaving bolts of cloth, so he could help Rowan, but I don’t think his place here should be determined by what he can do for us, do you?”

Garrick’s eyes darkened with shame, and he shook his head.

“I’ll catch up with you later. Right now, all I want is a bath and a change of clothes.” Your own shirt had been washed while you’d been recovering, and Feluän had stitched it up, but it was still stained with your blood and more than a bit travel-worn now.

The approach to the village was deserted, but when you stepped out from the shady road and into the brilliant, afternoon sun that bathed the thatched houses in stark light, Feluän grunted and closed his eyes, shielding them with one hand and wincing.

“You alright?” you asked.

“It’s so bright,” he rasped. “I… I can’t even see you and you’re right next to me.”

You paused and said, “This way. We’ll take the side road and go along one of the deer paths through the trees to the cave home I’ve got in mind for you. You can meet everyone tonight when the sun’s gone down.”

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking your head, you frowned. “No, Feluän. You have nothing to be sorry for. Let’s go.” You laid your hand on his foremost left leg, and changed direction, heading for the tall oak and beech trees that bordered the village.

You passed by your cottage, though you did point it out to him, and continued up the slope to the small, rocky outcrop where the old cave had sat empty since its previous occupant had moved to be nearer to her relatives. “This used to belong to Dinara,” you said. “She’s a dwarf, but the cave isn’t at her scale, don’t worry.”

He laughed, and now that you were in the shade, you noticed that his eyes were meeting yours again, and he wasn’t squinting so much. “Come here,” he said, and he lowered himself down to kiss you. “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

“If it’s not, I know people will help you alter it. They helped me build my house when I moved here, so you could always just build something new if it doesn’t suit.”

“You make them sound like good people,” he smiled.

Squeezing his hand, you said, “They are. They’re going to love you, I promise.”

“So long as they don’t try to hack me to bits with their axes… The one you called ‘Garrick’ sounded ready to cut my legs off earlier.”

“He’s protective, not unlike you,” you said wryly. “Come on. Let me show you the cave and see if you want to live there or not.”

“If you’re nearby, it’ll be perfect,” he said smoothly, and you immediately tripped, making him laugh.

In the end, the empty cave house suited him perfectly, and, as you’d predicted, people were wary to start with, but when they heard how he’d saved you and taken care of you, and brought you home, they welcomed him like a long-lost relative — something that clearly moved him deeply. He did bristle when Thom swept you up into his bone-crushing, baker’s arms outside the village inn that night and nuzzled his tusks against your neck and expressed just how worried he’d been about you though.

When you returned to Feluän after Thom had set you down and promised you a week’s worth of free pies and cakes, Feluän was prickly and distant, until you grabbed a hold of his pedipalp and refused to let go as he turned. The moonlight flashed along the polished chitin and the limb straightened as he turned away while you held it, but he twitched back to look at you with his red eyes blazing quietly.

“Feluän…?” you purred. Oh, you liked the way he clearly wanted to be possessive of you but was forcing himself to behave. It made you flush hot all over.

“What?” he hissed, still scowling.

You caressed your hand up the limb to his shoulder and splayed your fingers wide. He gasped.

“You promised me something…”

“What was that?” he said, spreading his legs a little wider, as though he needed the extra stability to brace himself upright all of a sudden. You enjoyed seeing that the effect you had on each other was mutual.

You drew back your hand from him and he rocked forwards as if seeking the contact again. You brought your wrists together and held them out as though waiting to be tied up before looking up into his face.

His white eyelashes fluttered and his red eyes rolled closed for a moment. “Where?” he asked in a whisper. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure you’ll fit easily in my cottage…”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, “But I’ll take your word for it. I don’t have any furnishings in my new home yet.”

“You can sling me a silk hammock,” you said boldly and he groaned audibly. “You like that? You like the idea of me lying on your silk?”

He choked softly and nodded, jaw working.

“What?”

“I’m trying to keep my venom to myself this time,” he said carefully. “If I don’t let it out, I can put my mouth wherever I want to this time.”

“And where’s that?”

“Let me tie you up and you’ll find out,” he snarled, baring his double canines, patience fraying.

“Take me home then,” you whispered.

He picked you up, letting you loop your legs around his humanoid hips and holding you there with his arms and his two pedipalps while he scuttled away from the village and up the hill to the cave where an oil lamp was already burning softly on a shelf. 

The cave wasn’t so much a cave as a rock-hewn home, with an additional masonry front covering the opening from the elements, and stone shelves cut into the rock inside for storage, and a shelf at the back for a bed and a huge stone bath as well. Spring water was plumbed directly into a copper cylinder for hot water beside a fireplace with a chimney built into the mountainside. It was a vast improvement on his former, tunnel-like home in the forest, and someone had brought up a load of firewood for him.

Before he’d left his new home to greet the rest of the village earlier that evening, Feluän had lit a fire in the grate and it had since filled the space with warmth, driving away the lingering damp of disuse, and as he made his way on his long, skittering legs to the back of the cave, you kissed the chitin of his shoulders and watched the firelight lick along the sculpted shape of his natural armour. He shivered and then rose right up, tucking his abdomen under him and slinging a web across the shelf where the mattress would be when you eventually found him one. For now, a low, secure hammock of web would more than suffice.

He pitched you back onto it and you bounced softly while the drider’s huge body filled the air above you. The power and ‘otherness’ of his body made you hot beneath the skin and set your core burning, and you squirmed softly while he lowered himself down around you, all four right limbs braced on the wall to your left to give him the best angle. It was unnatural and eerie and creepy and wonderful and strange and everything you wanted in that moment, so you raised your hands above your head and crossed your wrists invitingly.

“You’re so good for me,” he purred and you arched upwards. The web hammock was substantial enough that you didn't feel in the least like your bodyweight was going to tear through it, but it left you feeling exposed and at his mercy. He undressed you carefully, his claws peeling the fabric back until you were as naked as he was. His spider’s body twitched and that clear fluid dripped down onto your shin, betraying his own arousal even as your own was made all the more evident to him.

He parted your legs with one clawed hand and carefully pressed the heel of his palm against where you were soaking wet. “Look at you,” he smiled, eyes glinting. “I can smell you. I can’t wait to taste you properly.” Then he licked his hand clean and your brain went blank for a moment as you watched and heard him groan.  

His silk was cool as he wrapped your wrists tightly enough to immobilise your arms and then he secured the line to one of the others, pinning you in place as securely as any rope tied to a headboard ever could be.

“Fuck…” you cursed, arching your spine and spreading your legs. Your clit was swollen and sensitive already, but when he slid his arms underneath your thighs and brought his face close enough that his breath shivered across your wet skin, you gasped and bucked.

Feluän’s tongue teased you to start with as he simply savoured the taste of you, but when he got to work in earnest, his claws pricked your skin and he held you down while you tried to writhe and squirm. You weren’t shy about the sounds you made, and when you saw the way his abdomen was moving in time with his tongue on your body, you realised he was every bit as turned on as you are. You knew that driders didn’t mate the way humans did, and that when he came, he was most likely going to make a mess all over you. The thought of it made your eyes roll.

His nose nudged against your clit as he delved deeper into you with his tongue, moaning and kissing and sucking and devouring. 

“I’m getting close, love,” he whispered in the tiny silence that blossomed around you when he drew back to adjust his grip on your legs. You’d never been rendered immobile like this by a partner before, with your hands tied and your legs clamped in his grip, and you felt your body clench in the absence of his tongue. He laughed, low and seductive. “So are you, aren’t you?”

Mind a blur with pleasure, you just nodded and keened.

“When I come, can I come over you?” he asked, and he sounded utterly wrecked.

“Gods, please,” you gasped, bucking weakly. “Please, anything, Feluän. Please… I need… I need you to… please…”

“Need me to do what, love?” he asked, licking teasingly over you with the tip of his tongue, savouring you without returning to his earlier endeavours to make you come. It was too much and nowhere near enough and you let out a broken sob. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t do it,” he said provocatively.

With a growl of frustration and effort, you wrangled the words into the right order in your hazy mind. “I need you to make me come, Feluän.”

“That’s good,” he praised and you arched upwards, legs parting a little wider for him. “Gods, you’re everything,” he whispered as he leaned back down and closed his mouth around your clit.

You gave another wild yell at the barrage of stimulation, and under a minute later you came with a heaving shout against his mouth. Waves of pleasure swept through you, and only a second after you stuttered out his name again, you heard him give a tiny ‘oh’ of surprise before he reared up, his whole body tensing and starting to shake, before his own release gushed over the spot where his mouth had just been. The heat of his come against you there sent you over the edge again and you thrashed beneath him. He was still coming when he lowered his humanoid torso down atop yours again and pulled you close, one clawed hand around the back of your head.

“Oh gods,” he said, his whole body twitching and coming while he cradled you beneath him. “Oh gods, you’re everything. You’re perfect… gods… oh…”

Eventually, his orgasm faded and he staggered, all his legs moving out of sync as he tried not to crush you while the strength fled his limbs and he collapsed onto the webbing.

You’d never been such a mess after sex, and you’d also never come quite so hard.

He reached dazedly out with one of his taloned pedipalps and carefully slashed through the silk holding your wrists together, then he raised his head a little more to regard you. “Are you alright?” he asked. “That wasn’t too much?”

“Perfect,” you mumbled. “You made a big mess though,” you said when you felt his release sliding over your thighs and hips.

“I’ve never made that much mess,” he said and he looked genuinely embarrassed when he pushed himself upright.  

“Good job there’s a bath over there,” you said, eyeing the basin that was practically a small swimming pool. It was certainly big enough for a drider to soak himself in relative comfort too.  

Feluän staggered over to it and turned the bronze tap that started a flow of hot water from the gigantic cistern beside the fire and then returned to you. “Can I carry you?” he asked, looking shy for the first time in your relatively short acquaintance.

“You’re going to have to. I can’t feel my legs,” you said.

“I didn’t — My venom —” he sputtered in horror. “I —”

“Oh, it’s not you,” you chuckled as you floundered to sit upright. “I mean, it was you, but not your venom.”

He deflated comically in relief and laughed as he scooped you up and bore you towards the tub. Glancing back, you saw that his come was all over the webbing and had dripped through onto the floor.

Feluän set you down on the shelf that ran around the edge of the bath washed you off while it filled. The gentle action of his caring, attentive hands on your body soothed you and worked you up again, and when you moaned and bucked weakly into his hand, he raised an eyebrow. “Again?” he breathed, as though hardly daring to believe it.

“Please?” you whispered, eyes half-closed where you floated in the warm water.

He was careful with his claws, using only the pad of his finger against you, and when you came with a little sigh and heaved into his arms a few minutes later, he smiled at you and leaned down to kiss you. 

“I want to do that to you every day,” he said over the rush of water into the bath. “I don’t want a day to go past where I haven’t seen you make that face for me.”

How could you refuse an offer like that when it was so generously made?

__

I really hope you enjoyed this. If you did, and you made it all the way to the end, please consider showing your support by reblogging. It really is the best (and totally free!) way to help the artists and writers whose work you enjoy.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#drider #drider x reader #male drider #trans male reader #reader insert #male drider x reader #male drider x trans male reader #monster fucker #exophilia #monster romance #fantasy romance #non human romance #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend

[colubrina]

How I Got My Agent, Take Two

I’m so ridiculously over the top happy to say I’ve signed with a literary agent to sell my magical bookbinder book.  This has been a long process that started in 2017, and I’m genuinely overjoyed.

It played out thus:

Write book one.

Write book two. Query the book.

Write book three. Query the book.

Write book four. Get into Pitch Wars with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.

Write book five. Get into Author Mentor Match with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.

Write book six.

Write book seven.

Write book eight.

Write book nine.

Get a Revise and Resubmit offer from an agent for book five. Do it.

Start querying book six.

Get an offer from the R&R (Yay!)

Write book ten.

Book five dies on submission.

Start writing book eleven.

My agent and I amicably part ways.

Start writing book twelve.

Finish querying book six.

Query book ten.

Start writing book thirteen.

Go back to book eleven.

Go to a live pitch event. Pitch book eleven to two agents. Neither likes it. One asks what else I’m working on, and when I do the one sentence pitch for book twelve, says, “I could sell that.”

Pivot to finishing that book.

Query book twelve, sending queries first to four agents who only want queries and who are actively requesting off those queries. Get a 75% request rate. Query is fire. Check.  Unfortunately, every agent rejects when they see the opening pages, which turn out not to be fire.

Revise opening

Resume querying book twelve.  In case you’ve lost count, while this is the twelfth book I’ve written, it’s ‘only’ the seventh I’ve queried.

Finish drafting book thirteen in NaNo. Revise. Send to CPs.

Have existential crisis on a Tuesday. Meltdown on Tumblr. Weep in my living room. All my books have failed.  I do not know how to write a better book.  Maybe I should give up. This turns out to be a very well-timed dark night of the soul within the narrative.

Get two full requests for book twelve on Wednesday.

Get an email telling me one of my short stories has been held for consideration on Thursday.

On Friday get an email that the woman who handles submissions for one of those agents from Wednesday loved the book but she doesn’t think it’s a great fit for the agent I queried.  Would I mind if she forwarded it in-house to a different agent?  In shocking news, I would not mind this. 

On Monday, get an email asking for a call.

On Wednesday, which is Valentine’s Day, have a call with the agent.  She’s lovely in every way, her thoughts on the book are so good, every editorial idea she floats is good. Like, really good.  She is super enthusiastic about repping the book and offers to do so.

There is an etiquette requirement at this point that I tell any agent who has the book that I have an offer on the table and give them two weeks to respond, so I go around nudging all the agents with a full (four people) and several agents who only have a query. Three more agents request fulls. The rejections start trickling in.  People are very sweet and complimentary, and I am deeply, deeply relieved that I never waver from how much I adore the original offering agent.

I sign with her on February 29.

Final stats for Book Twelve (THE ARCHIVE OF THE WORLD):

Total Queries Sent:  39 Requests Before Offer: 8 (20.5% request rate) Request Rate Including Post-Offer Requests: 28.2%

Year I Started this Nonsense:  2017 Total Queries Sent across 7 books:  456

Takeaway wisdom:  The query trenches are a soul-mangling machine into which we all keep putting our souls and most of us don’t make it out unmangled.  I am not unmangled. BUT, I am a persistence hunter, and I will walk steadily towards publishing until it lies down in exhaustion and gives up.

Thanks for hanging out with me as I do.

Also, this book is so much fun.  You’re going to love it.

#querying #wow that process sucked #when we've sold the book you will hear about it #and when you can pre-order #and when you can order

[tlgad1989]

Hi ummmmm could i get a “I’m personally offended that you didn’t ask me to be your fake date.” with Kol Mikaelson please, idk why i pretended this was a drive thru im-

anyway hope ur having a great day x

hi anon! thank you for being my first submission! ❤️

Not Possible

Kol Mikaelson x Salvatore best friend! reader

Warnings: not really a warning but use of Y/N

A/N: sorry i dropped off the face of the earth except to reblog taylor swift… it’s okay i’m back now! but Damon and Reader are besties ngl

Kol Mikaelson masterlist

Masterlist

••••••••••

Damon had his hand on the small of my back and I was smiling broadly, trying to pretend that I wanted to be at my parents’ ball. My dad was throwing a ball to celebrate me graduating high school, and everyone in Mystic Falls was here. My mom was hanging on my dad, already tipsy.

“You okay?” Damon whispered.

“Yeah.” We were talking out of the corners of our mouths, barely loud enough to hear. Of course, no human would hear anyway, Damon had turned me a couple months ago, around when Elijah showed up.

“Y/N.” Damon poked my side.

“What?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Look behind you.”

Discreetly looking by flipping my hair, I saw Kol, Rebekah, and Elijah greeting people. Turning back to Damon, I sighed. “This is going to get a lot worse, isn’t it?”

“Unless you count a lot of fake smiles as fun, then yes.”

The three Originals approached us and we greeted them with fake smiles. “Kol, Elijah, Rebekah. To what do we owe the honor?”

Elijah smiled. “We just wanted to come to your party and see what was happening.”

Rebekah was scanning me. “Your dress is cute.” She said, and somehow I knew she was telling the truth.

“Thank you.”

Kol smiled. “I only came because Klaus was getting angry.”

“A smart choice.” Damon said.

The music changed to a waltz piece and Kol offered me his hand. “Will you please dance with me, darling?”

“Of course.” I took his hand and followed him through the crowd, glancing back at Damon to see him giving me a little thumbs up. I flipped him off.

“So,” Kol began as we started dancing. “You and Damon?”

“No, I had to have a date for this. My parents’ wishes.” I rolled my eyes. “So I just told them Damon is my date and he showed up.”

“You know, love, I’m personally offended you didn’t ask me to be your fake date.”

“Why would I do that?”

Kol pulled me closer. “Because you love me.”

I laughed softly. “You really have high aspirations.”

“No, I just have a beautiful girl in my arms.”

I just rolled my eyes at him.

-two months later-

There was a knock on the door of the Salvatore mansion, and Damon got off the couch, sighing, to go open it. “What?” He asked, opening it.

“Hello, Damon. Is Y/N here?”

“Hold on. N/N! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE!” Damon opened the door farther, gesturing for Kol to come in. “She’ll be down in a minute.” Damon went back to the couch as I descended the stairs.

“Thanks for the help, Damon.” I said sarcastically.

“No problem. Have fun, but not too much fun. Don’t stay out too late, but don’t come home early.” The door was already closed by the time he finished.

“Hello, darling.” Kol pulled me into a bruising kiss.

“Hi.” I said, almost shyly.

“Are you ready for our fake date?” He offered me his arm.

“Get over it! I still hated you then.”

“I always loved you, so how rude is that?” He had a hand on the small of my back as he walked me to his car, opening the passenger door for me before closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat.

“I love you.” I said, looking over at him.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

••••••••••••••••

Thank you all for reading!

#kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #kol mikealson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #kol x reader #kol michaelson #kol #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd damon #damon salvatore #damon x reader #damon salvarote #rebekah mikealson x reader #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson

[ladylooch]

Odds were against us - John Marino

A/N: My submission for @wyattjohnston Winter Fic Exchange 2k24! This is the first time I have participated in a fic exchange and wow has it been really fun for me! Thank you so much, Demi, for being a gracious host and your rockstar organization!

@pcttymcrlecu I hope you love this as much as I enjoyed creating it for you. Also, I am IN LOVE with the song inso for this. I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was working on this. Thank you for sharing 🥰

Song Inspo: Solider by James TW

Word Count: 2.5k

The odds were against you. 

Well, maybe not right away. You did grow up two houses down from each other. 

But once you moved away for college, the world seemed to keep you apart as much as it flirted with the idea that you two could be together. 

Growing up, it was the Masschusettes version of the three musketeers: John, Paul, and you. There was never a Marino brother around without you. Living on the same street had great perks, like a hockey net to shoot at, a ton of legos, and endless nights spent on their backyard play set.

From the beginning, John and you had a connection. Even as his twin brother was supposed to know him the best, you always seemed to be on the same page with your buddy. For years growing up, you and John had been tango-ing with will they, won't they, before he went to Harvard and you went to theUniversity of Pittsburgh. The next three years, every time you were both home, the tango continued. Both dating other people, never wanting to ruin the friendship, finding excuses for why you could never talk about the elephant in the room. 

Then, John left Harvard after his junior year to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. You were thrilled to show him the city! You took him to your favorite restaurants and introduced him to your college friends. It was you sitting next to his brother and his parents, in a freshly pressed Marino jersey, as he did his solo rookie lap in black and yellow. 

It was you who left Pittsburgh a year later.

While others in your major wanted to be at Google and Microsoft, you wanted to use your computer science degree for good. When the call came for your dream job at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory in Golden, Colorado, you knew you had to decide. You loved John, but he didn’t know, and it was hard to imagine a life where you stayed on the sidelines for potential. So before you decided, you nudged the situation to see what John would say when he was faced with the possibility of losing you.

“I got a job offer!” You exclaimed to him at happy hour. 

“Whoa! Of course you did! You’re so cool.” He puts his chin in his hand, giving you googly, heart eyes in admiration. He is joking, but it puts a silly smile on your face. He sits back up, taking a sip of his beer, waiting expectantly. “So tell me everything. Will you get an office? How close will you work to the arena? And can I come to have lunch with you every day because that is a requirement. We have spent too much time apart.”  Your stomach drops out of your body. You look away, taking in a heavy breath. 

“That is the one downside.” You bite your lip, then continue. “It’s not here.”

“Oh? Is it like out in the boonies or Philly?”

“No. Like Colorado.”

Surprise slaps across John’s face. Then he looks away, trying to gather himself quickly.

“But you just got here and maybe I shouldn’t go...” You trail off. You hold your breath, wanting John to say something. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. But a yearning inside of you begs for John to tell you to stay with him in Pittsburgh. 

“You should go. This is everything you’ve been wanting. You deserve this.” John’s words are everything he should say, but they fucking sting. Tears build in your eyes and you nod. “I’m proud of you.” John finishes with a dainty whisper. He licks his lips, looking away. “Look at us.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out like a cough. “Both of our dreams are coming true.” 

You want to ask him why it feels like your chest is imploding?

But you don’t. 

Instead, you hug your childhood best friend while telling yourself how selfish it would be to confess you’re in love with him before you go

- - - 

Three years later, so much has changed since you hugged John on that bar stool. You have been promoted twice and received national recognition for your work in solar energy. John had rough seasons in Pittsburgh, but has found a new, comfortable place in New Jersey. Paul is with the L.A. Kings in California. You make it a point to meet up with John and Paul when John visits on his West Coast road trips. John and you connect when he is in Colorado. When you’re back home, you make the commute to Jersey and fly home out of Newark. Otherwise, you’re texting daily, sending GIFs and memes and tiktoks back and forth while keeping each other abreast of your busy life. 

You’re closer than ever. More in love with him than ever too. But how would it ever work? 

The repetitive thoughts consume you as you stir the queso you had been making for your taco night at your new home in Golden. It has been a long, competitive process to get this house, but you are so proud of it. A dream home to match the dream job that the dream boy will see tonight. 

A knock sounds on the door. The dream boy waits for you on the other side of the wood.

“Hi!” You squeal when you see John. “Welcome to MY home!”

“Uh, Ma’am, where is the owner of this home? You’re too young and single? It couldn’t be you?” He jokes, then pulls you in for a tight hug. “Thought we could celebrate.” He tilts the bottle of wine at you. It is nothing fancy. In fact, it's Cook’s, the bottle you two had stolen from your parents’ bar to have after prom on the beach.

“Let’s get this expensive gal in a nice lil ice bath.” 

“There is nothing nice about an ice bath. Or that wine.” He snorts, shrugging his coat off. 

“You can put that in the closet right there.” You point to his right. He opens the door, settling his jacket between two of yours. A warmth spreads through your body at his clothes mingling together with yours, gathering each other's scents.

“Don’t dawdle in the doorway, Johnny. Come into my kitchen!” You’re giddy as John's sock covered feet slide across your wood floors to join you in the open, modern space. 

“Gas range?” John oos and aws at all the fixtures you show him. He hypes and gasps at all the right moments. Your cheeks hurt from grinning as you become Vanna White against your refrigerator. 

“Go best friend!” He cheers as you do a little spin and dance for him. You laugh at the end.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You tell him honestly.

“Me too. Glad we got in early.” He opens his arms for you. The weight of you settles against his chest, creating a bonded connection. John squeezes tight, his chin on the top of your head. He works you both into a sway, enjoying the weight of each other’s arms. This version of John is your favorite. The one who blurs the lines between best friends and lovers. You breathe in the fresh scent of his cologne, then wait, making him be the one to break your embrace. 

“So is there an upstairs?” He wonders. 

“There is! They gave me two whole levels!” 

“What! Scam. It’s all a scam.” 

“Look at my wall of pictures.” You point out as you head up the stairs. There is a whole gallery wall of frames and people, many of which John is in. Paul too. 

“I know these people!” He grins, looking at their decades of memories. “My favorite night.” He points to a picture. It’s the New Year's Eve you were pretty sure you almost kissed. 

“Mmm, it’s up there for sure.” You agree, waiting for him. His eyes trace the memory like he wants to burn it into the membrane of his brain. Then he turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs, becoming the tour guide. 

“So up here we have uh…” He looks around. “An office!” 

“Oh! And a standing desk?! She works on her fitness.” You fill in. 

“We have very different definitions of fitness.”

“I hope so, NHL player.”

“And over here,” He tugs you by your fingers. “We have a guest room. You would never have blue as your color. It is not boring enough. This can’t be your room.”

“Shut up! I love neutrals! They’re in!” You shove at him as he howls with laughter. 

“Paul’s room for when he comes to visit. Your parents and sister too.” You can’t help but notice John doesn’t include himself in that.

“Oh here we go.” He gets to your room, pushing the cracked door open to expose your favorite space in the house. He pauses in the doorway, taking it in.

Two lamps on either side of the bed illuminate the room as the sun sets behind the mountains outside. Your white walls are warmed by their dim light. The bed is made with a plush, white comforter and a light tan blanket draped along the foot of the bed. The walls had been painted the faintest of olive green. Various shades of cream and tan pillows create the look of a bed you want to jump into to mess it all up. A black and white picture of waves sliding onto a Nantucket beach is above the headboard. 

John has gone still and silent. You are nervous as he continues to look around the comfy oasis you have created as your escape from the world. You were meticulous in your quest for homey, comfort items that would dull the sometimes harsh world out there. Does he hate it? 

“What do you think?” You finally ask.

“Honestly?” He murmurs.

“Yes!” You giggle, trying to cross the distance you feel separating you.

“I wish this was our house.” 

You freeze. John keeps looking at the bed, eyes ravenous over the clean bedding like he is seeing something else. 

“I wish this was our bed.” He sighs. “I wish I was the one who got to sleep here with you because this is so clearly your dream house and I wish I was your dream man.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. This is when you realize he really doesn’t know. How does he not know?

“You are.” You whisper. 

It’s John’s turn to be still and dumbfounded. 

“You’re my dream man, Johnny.” 

You bite your lip and John rushes towards you. His hands grip your face, tugging you into his lips. Your head falls back, delirious at his mouth finally being on yours. He holds your head up, working his lips to an angle so his tongue can devour your mouth. You never want to breathe again. His tongue and lips on yours are everything you’ve ever wanted. How will you stop? 

Need takes over and you break apart begrudgingly. John rests his forehead on yours, thumbs delicately stroking your cheek bones. 

“I’m in love with you, Johnny.” 

“Good. Cause I am deliriously in love with you. And I’m sick of not telling you that every day.” You grin, inhaling heavily as tears fill your eyes. 

“How are we going to do this?” 

“I don’t know.” John sighs, gripping your face tighter in his fingers, like that will stop the rest of reality from intruding on your moment. 

“I’m scared. We live so far apart. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“We’ll have to be brave, sweetheart.”

Being brave is your second act.

The next 6 months you navigate the journey from friends to lovers while trying to mitigate the 1,700 miles that separate you. A 2 hour time zone difference weighs heavily on your relationship, along with two careers that threaten to ground you before your relationship even has a chance to take off. Then the off-season comes and John decides to train in Colorado with local NHL players at altitude, convinced it will give him that next step in his game. 

The season begins again and your bed is as empty as it was before. You’re miserable. Lonelier than you’ve ever been and it spews mean thoughts in your brain at all hours of the night. John feels the same. You both discuss it openly, but neither of you have solutions for this next roadblock. Something will have to give, you both know it, but neither of you can speak it.

Right before Thanksgiving, your fist feels heavy against his Jersey City apartment door. He isn’t expecting you, but the relieved sigh when he has you in his arms tells you how welcome you are here. He ushers you in, pasting his lips against your skin as you try to set your bag down. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Accepting my job offer.” John bolts up.

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No, babe. Don’t do this for me.”

“I’m not going to pretend it isn’t because of you. Of course it is. But this is a really good career move for me too. We can have it all.”

“Your house-” 

“-will always just be my house. I’m ready to upgrade to our house.” You lock your hands around his neck, fingers guzzling up every bit of warmth from his skin. “I know what I want to do in my life and it’s to be where you are.” John groans then hugs you into his chest desperately.

In another month, you cut those 1700 miles down to 0. You and John move into your new place together. While you’re unpacking the neutral bedroom decor he makes fun of, John walks in then pops down to one knee. 

“Can’t wait another minute.” He confesses. “I’ve been downstairs trying to talk myself out of doing it and why? For what? Because there isn’t an audience? There isn’t a photographer? Your nails aren’t done? That’s not us. This is us. So, marry me?”  Your bottom lip quivers. A blink sends tear tracks down your face as you nod enthusiastically, telling the man, who is still your dream boy, “YES” you will marry him!

The wedding is a fast plan, you need to do it in the off-season and neither of you care for anything super fancy anyway. It’s a quaint ceremony on a similar Nantucket beach that hangs above your now shared bed. You and John stare in awe as you take turns reciting written vows that may as well be a decades long love letter to each other.

“Let’s keep betting on us, baby.” John finishes. You laugh, nodding vigorously. 

When it’s time to seal the deal, John winds his hand around your waist, then tilts you down, kissing you so fully that you’re dazed when he brings you back up. 

Like it has for thousands of years, a kiss between two lovers seals your fate. 

It’s been decided.

A forever commitment.

One that binds you and John as partners, who keep bending the odds and winning anyway.

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #John Marino x reader #John Marino Imagine #NHL imagine

[queuestarter]

daybreak

(johanna mason x reader)

cw: none- just two girls in love

link to the request → grumpy x sunshine during training for the quarter quell

open to submissions/asks

You watch from across the room as Johanna strips off her training uniform and begins to rub oil all over herself. You shake your head in amusement and refocus on the conversion you’re having with your district mate and close friend, Beetee.

“I wonder what the reason they put the forcefield up this year is,” he comments offhandedly while observing a piece of wood as he attempts to figure out how to start a fire. You sit opposite him, not having much luck either.

You didn’t win your first games by fighting or learning survival skills. You won by appealing to the audience.

“Maybe someone attacked them. Or maybe one of the Gamemakers fell over the balcony,” you giggle, throwing down your two sticks as Katniss walks over to you.

You’ve never met her, but of course you know all about her. Who doesn’t at this point?

“Hello,” you friendlily greet her. She stands over you and Beetee awkwardly. “Do you know how to make a fire with two sticks? We’re awful at it.”

She sits down at the station with you. “Yeah, but I haven’t done it in a while. Let me see…” she grabs some sticks and begins to rub them together.

For the next ten minutes that you three spend at the station, a friendly rapport grows. You talk about many things, like the forcefield, productivity in your districts, and a few other topics. Eventually, she starts asking if you’re going to join any alliances.

“I think so,” you say hopefully. “I know me and Beetee are going to stick together. Johanna, too.” 

“Johanna?” Katniss asks, raising her eyebrows.

You smile, finding your girl across the room. She’s arguing about something with Finnick, shoving his shoulder and getting shoved back in response. 

“Yeah, she’s great. She’s just really, really great.” You can feel a blush growing on your cheeks which you hide behind your hands.

“I didn’t feel that way when I met her.” You furrow your eyebrows at Katniss.

“Oh. While I’m going to go see if I can try to make a lure with Mags. Beetee, want to join?” You want to be nice considering she doesn’t know about your relationship with Johanna and your girlfriend does come off as rude sometimes.

“Oh, yes. That could be very helpful,” he comments, getting up from his seat. “Thank you for helping us, Katniss. Maybe we would keep up that trend in the arena?”

Katniss nods, getting up as well. “I should see what Peeta is doing.”

You don’t talk to Katniss again until the next day of training. 

You’re sparring with one of the trainers, having decided that it might actually be important this time around to work on your physical skills rather than just relying on your brains and public appeal. 

When you finish the spar and are bent over trying to catch your breath, you feel a hand cup your ass. You let out a gasp of surprise.

“Johanna!” You shriek as you return to an upright position. Ignoring the shocked gazes of the people around you, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her in for a quick kiss. “You can’t just scare me like that when I have a deadly weapon in my hands!”

She looks beautiful with her signature smirk on her face. “I just wanted to let you know how good you were doing. And let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You giggle uncontrollably, holding onto her for a few more seconds. With one final kiss to her smiling lips that end up more on her teeth than anything, you back away from the sparring station to allow other people to enter, namely Finnick and Katniss. Katniss has a look of disbelief on her face.

You say a quick ‘hello’ to them before Beetee is calling your name from across the room. “Can you identify the metal that comprises this beam? It seems to be steel but the density is all wrong.”

As you walk across the room to help out Beetee, you can hear Johanna talk to the two others, none of them being too quiet. 

“What a woman,” she says, causing you to smile once more.

“You two are…? Her?” Katniss practically hisses.

“Why not?” Finnick teases. “Johanna needs something good in her life.”

“Shut up!” You turn your eyes back towards your girlfriend just in time to see her try to knock Finnick over. 

This is what it means to be in love

-

#johanna mason #johanna request #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna imagine #johanna mason x y/n #johanna x reader #hunger games #thg johanna #lane's writing

[collegecuckcakev3]

Had a fun night with bestie's parents but only after we all went out to dinner first. It was chilly, breezy, and damp feeling so everyone was in the mood for some good bar food. It was crowded with families so aside from sitting next to our men, bestie and I mostly behaved. I however was a little naughty rubbing her mom's pussy a bit til she was in a daze and my mom kept trting to snap her out of it. The opportunity wasn't missed to whisper naughty things in he ear about what I was going to do to her later to make her my bitch. While we waited for our meal (which seemed like it took forever) bestie and I found our hands rubbing/massaging our dad's cocks. It started with a look and a wink between her and I. Next thing we knew our dads were totally silent and not paying attention to the tvs what so ever. Our dads were so worked up looking at their own daughter as their daughter's best friend played with their hard cocks. It certainly had us worked up too. Once in the parking lot bestie and I gave each other a quick kiss and hug as we swapped family for the evening.

Bestie's dad went to get in the driver seat when I stopped him and told him I would prefer him to get in the back seat with me and for her to drive. I fished his cock out immediately and began stroking it while I ordered her to drive us to the park and park us in an empty lot so he and I could have some fun. Once there she was ordered out of the car to keep a look out so we could have our fun. It only took seconds before my tits were out, mouth on his cock, and he was playing with my ass. He told me how much he has missed me lately and has been needing this. I have been needing this too and I made him feel that with every stroke and kiss of his cock. When I was ready to hop on I pulled my bottoms down, slid my thong to the side and hopped on. He played with my tits while I rode him for all he was worth. I teased him about how when I was working his cock in the bar he was looking at his own daughter. How I knew he had fantasies of fucking his own little girl's tight holes while my dad fucks mine. How he'd shover her mom's face right in her freshly fucked pussy to eat his big load of hot cum. It didn't take long before he exploded in my pussy. We were panting hard when I climbed off him, puling my thong back over my pussy to collect his cum. Looking down at his spent cock that needed cleaning, I opened my window and yelled her bestie's mom to come clean off her husband's cock and drive us home. She opened the door, leaned in, and sucked him a little before I told her that she was a good girl and we were ready to go home for the night.

Once we got inside their home, bestie's mom stripped down, got a slap on her ass, and she was ordered up to bestie's room so finish her cleaning job. I stripped down slow and teased her before laying in my best friend's bed so her naked, submissive, cuckquean mother could eat her father's load from my freshly fucked pussy. While she ate my pussy nice and good I teased her about the same things I teased her husband with in the car earlier as I rode him. The cuck was worked up nice and when she was done I pulled her in for a passionate kiss and we cuddles for a bit while I rubbed her pussy and continued to tease her some more.

We all retured to the master bed for one more fucking for me while bestie's mom was there for oral support and some verbal humiliation to get her husband and I worked up more. She was a good little cuck and was rewarded with a nice creampie once more. The three of us cuddled inder the blankets and slept amazing. This morning her and I had our normal shower fun that left her on her knees covered in my pee after I got out and toweled off leaving her to clean herself before joining us for breakfast.

It was a nice warm day here and Bestie and I laid out to get some sun. We talked about a lot of things including sex, life, and the usual. Of course I made bestie's mom wait on us and then thank me for allowing her to wait on her daughter and I.

#besties parents

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#351

“Shithead, what the fuck are you doing?  Who the fuck do you think you are?  You are a faggot, a cum guzzling, ass eating, piss drinking faggot.  When I took you in, I told you I expect obedience from you.  If you wanted my cock to fuck you several times a day, you needed to be obedient.  Obedient!  You said you’d live to follow my orders.  So explain yourself?  What the fuck was that upstairs?...

“…Aw don’t even.  Look.  Tonight was going to be the night I introduce you to my three best buds.  Of course I gave them full access to you.  You don’t have a say.  So when Brutus wants to shove his fat finger into you, you let him.  That cunt between your legs is not your cunt, but mine.  And if he wants to shove his dirty finger in you, then I want it in there.  He works hard logging all day.  He’s entitled to a cunt to use as he sees fit, and he knows my cunts are expected to satisfy him.  He doesn’t deserve a faggot who has no rights to balk.  Now why the fuck did you pull away?...

“Are you fucking kidding me?  I don’t give a shit you find him ugly and fat.  He and I go way back.  Yeah, he ain’t the prettiest, and being 6’6”, he’s quite large.  He works long and hard logging, and he eats quite well.  You would be surprised at his muscles under that chunk.  Along with his nasty personality, he can’t seem to get or keep a woman.  That’s why he uses faggots.  He loves treating them like shit, humiliating them, degrading them, raping them, beating them, all the good stuff.  So when a faggot balks, well,… you are going to find out that that’s not good for you.

“So you are going to go back up there and you will apologize to the man.  There is nothing else to do.  You got that?...  Good.

“Where the fuck are you going?  I didn’t dismiss you.  You see the belt doubled over in my hand?  You see that I am wearing sweatpants, so you know… this is coming!  Fucker, don’t move.  You need to be welted up.  Obedience is not obedience if infractions aren’t punished.  Now stand there and don’t fucking move.  You move more than a step or put up any resistance, I will have my bud Jim upstairs castrate you.  He castrates all his fagmeat.  He indicated to me he’s not interested in you as a fuck slave, but damn he would love to take your balls from you.

“Now that’s only three swats.  Cry if you want.…  In fact, scream out.  Let them hear that you are atoning for your disobedience….  Now turn around.  I want to welt up your chest and the front of your legs….  Oh fuck!  Between your pathetic crying out to the snap sound of leather striking fag flesh, I am getting fucking hard.

“There.  Oh look at that, the welts are starting to form.  Fuck yeah.  If I didn’t want Brutus to first fuck you tonight, I would be shoving my cock in my cunt and unloading.

“Here take my belt.  Oh look, there’s some blood on it.  Turn around I want to see where you are bleeding.  Fuck, your back looks amazing.  Those welts look like they belong there.  That one is bleeding a little.  Good.  Let the blood run down your skin. 

“Now before we go back upstairs, let me tell you what is going to happen.  I want you to go up to Brutus, and in the most submissive pose you can apologize to him.  Offer him my belt to finish your punishment for pulling away from his finger.  Beg him to ignore your pleas.  Tell him that my cunt between your legs is cleaned out and is his ready to be raped. 

“You are to be obedient to him tonight and tomorrow.  He’s way more demanding than I am.  He’s going to beat the shit out of you.  Rape you too.  Even though he’s enormous and fat, you would think his dick would be tiny.  No, his cock is enormous, big and fat just like him.  Every single faggot I bring to him seems to ignore his ugly mug or his chunkiness once they see his gigantic cock, yet there is always regret once the raping begins.

“You get the extra benefit of having pissed him off first.  I’m going to enjoy seeing you suffer like that.  Now get upstairs.  I can’t wait to see you completely welted up with a shredded cunt.”

[journeythroughjourneytothewest]

Hello and Welcome!

This is a blog dedicated to Journey to the West, where anyone interested may join in and follow along in a journey through Wu Cheng’en’s classic. This reading group will be focused on the Anthony C. Yu English translation, which the ever-interesting @journeytothewestresearch has helped provide completely free to download and read as pdfs! The link can be found below:

https://journeytothewestresearch.com/2019/06/07/archive-10-journey-to-the-west-2012-revised-edition/

In full awareness that everyone has their own busy lives and differing schedules, this reading group is working off of a “do-as-you-want” model. Everyone is welcome to submit their analysis, art, reactions, memes, criticisms, additions of context, etc. as we make our way through the journey, but there is no pressure but to have fun with the work!

That said, there is a reading schedule. This reading group has now made it through Volume 1 of this classic, and will start up Volume 2 on February 11, 2024. The reading schedule encourages all interested to read one JTTW chapter per week. This group then "meets" every Sunday, which is be the day participants are encouraged to finish that week's chapter and/or submit their creative/analytical pieces about it. Sunday will also be the day where I will give a quick recap of that week's chapter, and will mass reblog anything participants submitted to have that work in the archive. Again, this blog has now made it through Volume 1, and will start keeping to the reading schedule for Volume 2 starting February 11, so please have read “Chapter 26: Amid the Three Islands Sun Wukong seeks a cure; With sweet dew Guanshiyin revives a tree,” by then. You’ll find the reading schedule for Volume 2 below, and while not necessary I do encourage everyone to give a look at Yu’s introduction to this text in Volume 1 as well.

I want to end by stressing that it is completely understandable that new members would be concerned about joining after the reading schedule has officially started, and indeed after we have made it through the first volume. As such, I want to confirm that while this group encourages people to send in their submissions on Sunday for the chapter covered that week, you should feel completely free to both submit your stuff on any day of the week that’s best for you, as well as to send in art, memes, analysis, commentary, etc. for every chapter that has already been covered according to the reading schedule. In other words, all I’m going to ask is that your “late” submissions are in line with what happens in Volume 1 and/or chapters in Volume 2 that the group has already read as laid out in the reading schedule below. So for example you should feel free to submit the sketches you made about Chapters 26, 27, 28, and 29 on the Monday-Saturday of the week following the Sunday this book club finished Chapter 29, but please save your meme about Chapter 30 for the Sunday that chapter was scheduled to be read. So start, read, and submit as you can!

Thank you and thank you again to anyone who wants to participate and to everyone who has already expressed so much enthusiasm and contributed so much to this reading group! I’m very happy and excited to continue this literary pilgrimage with you all.

---

Journey to the West Volume 2 Reading Schedule

February 11-Chapter 26: Amid the Three Islands Sun Wukong seeks a cure; With sweet dew Guanshiyin revives a tree

February 18-Chapter 27: The cadaver demon three times mocks Tripitaka Tang; The holy monk in spite banishes Handsome Monkey King

February 25-Chapter 28: At Flower-Fruit Mountain a pack of fiends hold assembly; At the Black Pine Forest Tripitaka meets demons

March 03-Chapter 29: Free of his peril, River Float arrives at the kingdom; Receiving favor, Eight Rules invades the forest

March 10-Chapter 30: A deviant demon attacks the true Dharma; The Horse of the Will recalls Mind Monkey.

March 17-Chapter 31: Zhu Eight Rules provokes the Monkey King to chivalry; Pilgrim Sun with wisdom defeats the monster

March 24-Chapter 32: On Level-Top Mountain the sentinel brings a message; At Lotus-Flower Cave Wood Mother meets disaster

March 31-Chapter 33: Heresy deludes the True Nature; Primal Spirit helps the Native Mind

April 07-Chapter 34: The demon king's plotting entraps Mind Monkey; The Great Sage, ever adroit, wangles the treasures

April 14-Chapter 35: Heresy uses power to oppress the proper Nature; Mind Monkey, bagging treasures, conquers deviate demons

April 21-Chapter 36: When Mind Monkey is rectified, the nidanas cease; Smash through the side door to view the bright moon

April 28-Chapter 37: The ghost king visits Tripitaka Tang at night; Wukong, through wondrous transformation, leads the child

May 05-Chapter 38: The child queries his mother to learn of deviancy and truth; metal and wood, reaching the deep, see the false and the real

May 12-Chapter 39: One pellet of cinnabar elixir found in Heaven; a king, dead three years, lives again on Earth

May 19-Chapter 40: The child's playful transformations confuse the Chan Mind; Ape, horse, Spatula gone, Wood Mother, too, is lost

May 26-Chapter 41: Mind Monkey is defeated by fire; Wood Mother is captured by demons

June 02-Chapter 42: The Great Sage diligently calls at South Sea; Guanyin with compassion binds the Red Boy

June 09-Chapter 43: An evil demon at Black River captures the monk; The Western Ocean's dragon prince catches the iguana

June 16-Chapter 44: The Dharma-body in primal cycle meets the force of the cart; the mind, righting monstrous deviates, crosses the spine-ridge pass

June 23-Chapter 45: At the Three Pure Ones Abbey the Great Sage leaves his name; At the Cart Slow Kingdom the Monkey King shows his power

June 30-Chapter 46: Heresy flaunts its strength to mock orthodoxy; Mind Monkey in epiphany slays the deviates

July 07-Chapter 47: The holy monk's blocked at night at Heaven-Reaching River; Metal and Wood, in compassion, rescue little children

July 14-Chapter 48: The demon, raising a cold wind, sends a great snow fall; The monk, intent on seeing Buddha, walks on layered ice

July 21-Chapter 49: Tripitaka meets disaster and sinks to a water home; To bring salvation, Guanyin reveals a fish basket

July 28-Chapter 50: Nature follows confused feelings through lust and desire; Faint spirit and moved mind meet a demon chief

#xiyouji #journey to the west #jttw #jttw reading group #jttw book club

[whoistartaglia]

Heeeey, from your 1500 followers event, can I have enemies to lovers with kaeya and al haitham? Tysm have a great day and congrats 🤸‍♀️💗

i love academic rivals to lovers. thanks for the submission!

trope: enemies to lovers.

including: kaeya, al haitham

kaeya.

“knight.”

“captain.” you give kaeya your worst smile. “i suppose fate has brought us together again.”

“more like bad luck,” he clips back. kaeya got the orders last night—travel to the monstadt border to make sure everything is okay as strange reports have been occuring. it seemed easy enough, until he saw you were assigned to go with him.

“shall we?” you ask. you don’t wait for his response as you head towards the city gates.

a couple hours later, you and kaeya are still walking. he doesn’t talk to you, you don’t talk to him. you’d like the keep it that way, but it appears that kaeya doesn’t.

“how have you been?” he asks, breaking the silence. “i haven’t seen you since… well, you know.”

“yes, i do know,” you say, smiling tightly. this is the worst. “i’ve been doing well. and you?”

“likewise.” kaeya’s smile is all teeth.

after another hour, you and kaeya decide to set up camp for the knight. you start the fire—as per your pyro vision.

“wow, very impressive.”

“do you ever stop?” you ask.

“it’s too bad you weren’t ever made a captain,” kaeya continues.

“and it’s too bad that you were,” you bite back. kaeya looks like he wants to say something else before a noise catches both of your attentions. a second later, a group of hilichurls appear.

kaeya pushes you behind him. you shove yourself back next to him.

“i’m touched,” you say sarcastically.

“can’t you ever just— ugh, let’s just get this over with.” it doesn’t take long for you and kaeya to deal with the hilichurls. really, it’s akin to a warm up than an actual training exercise.

“that was easy.”

“you did great,” kaeya says genuinely. he takes a seat at the fire.

“…so did you,” you respond. you don’t sit right next to him, but you’re not too far, either. it’s strange, you think, as you and kaeya talk—not argue, talk. you still resent him a little since you wanted to be captain instead of him… but this was nice.

when you both fall asleep, and wake up not quite in each other’s arms, not quite not in each others arms, you have to consider whether you want to keep bickering with kaeya, or maybe explore something else. or both—you don’t actually think you could ever stop bickering back and forth with him, even if you tried.

al haitham.

“give. me. that.”

“no.” you give him a sweet smile. you and al haitham both clutch the same large book, essential to both of your individual research.

“i grabbed it first,” al haitham snaps.

“but i found it first!” you respond. you not-so subtly try to yank on it again, but al haitham doesn’t budge. “it’s not my fault you’re taller and reached it before me.”

“i’ll give it to you after.”

“after what? a month? two?”

you know how dedicated al haitham is to his search. while you, a fellow scholar, can admire it, you’re still annoyed how greedy he is with materials. to make things worse, you both need a lot of same papers and books to refer back to since your fields of search are so entwined.

“i promise after three months—“

“three months!”

“well? what else can i say? there aren’t any other copies, so three months is as good as it’s going to get, [name].”

“no.” you relax your grip ever so slightly on the book, and so does al haitham. “we’ll use it… together.”

al haitham looks at you as if you’re joking, but you look completely serious.

“we can’t—“

“we can,” you insist. “our research is similar, anyways. i’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

he considers. if al haitham was in your position having to wait three months for this particularly important book…

“fine,” he says at last. “but—“

al haitham doesn’t finish his sentence because you’ve just pressed a thank you kiss on his cheek. he stills, and you take that opportunity to finally yank the book out of his slackened grip, and bound off. over your shoulder you call, “just kidding! but thanks for generously letting my take this! see you in three months!”

al haitham just stares off as you exit the library, and touches his cheek. he fears he might be slightly blushing. he really needs to learn how to keep his guard up with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact kaeya headcanons #kaeya headcanons #kaeya x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham headcanons #genshin impact al haitham headcanons #event

[rendy-a]

Hello how are you? ^^, I saw that you write yandere so I would like to ask for a fic for vil schoenheit yandere with his stubborn mc fem who usually says and does a lot of funny occurrences hehe, well I was thinking of a context where vil scolds mc or has fun with her occurrences or you can choose the context you think is best :3 thanks! *hug*

I'm doing well! We just had a big 3 day weekend over here and it gave me a lot of time to catch up on my requests. I feel so accomplished to get 3 things out in one weekend! lol

The idea I came up with for your request can be written as gender neutral, so I’m going to do that so more people can enjoy it.  A stubborn Prefect who knows they can’t *really* escape Vil’s influence, so they get their revenge by playing some humorous jokes on him.  Enjoy!

“Potato, you can’t be serious.” Vil sighs at you in displeasure.  Your lips quirk up before quickly falling back into an even expression.  “Why whatever do you mean?” you ask in mock surprise.  Vil is so taken aback by the neon orange formal wear you’d somehow managed to find that he isn’t at first sure what to even say.  Instead, he settles with saying, “This needs to be fixed,” and then gestures to you starting at the top of your head and finishing low enough to indicate your feet.  “Wha?  No?  I thought I did so good!” you smile at him and pretend to worry.

Vil clicks his tongue at you and points to the chaise in front of his bed, “Sit.” You smile at the annoyed tone in his command and obey meekly.  “Spudling, there is only so much I can do to help you when you don’t want to help yourself,” Vil starts his lecture with a disappointed frown, “I wonder if you even remember the position, you are in here.  Do you ever stop to think what might happen to a magicless person in this world without protection?” 

You scowl deeply and reply bitterly, “And so I should come running to you to save me?”  Vil comes to sit at your side and runs a hand through your hair.  When he speaks again, it is surprisingly gentle, “No dear, that’s not what I meant at all.  Sometimes protection isn’t just magic and muscles.  Sometimes it’s dressing well enough to be noticed, so everyone sees where you are and who you are with.  Make them want to notice you, want to help you.”  Many things about your situation frustrate you and none so much as when Vil makes sense like this.  Your lips twist bitterly but you nod in agreement, you’d cooperate today.  He is pleased by your submission and pulls you down for a kiss on the top of your head.  You wait until his lips are deep in your tresses before saying, “In the spirit of cooperation, maybe I should let you know I haven’t washed my hair in three days.” The yelp he makes is almost satisfying enough to make it worth accompanying Vil to this party.

You hate going to parties with Vil.  Not because you hate parties but because there is such an air of expectation that surrounds you when you arrive on the arm of such a person as Vil Schoenheit.  People watch you and talk and talk and talk.  You just smile and walk at Vil’s side, pretending to not hear the sound that follows you.  It’s tiring though, so much so that you need to play these little games with Vil to psych yourself up enough to go.  There was a time when you’d even tried to dress yourself, but it never seemed to meet the standard.  Finally, you figured that if you were going to get the Vil treatment either way, you might as well have some fun with it. 

A part of you would even admit to liking the Vil treatment.  He led you by the ear to the lavish private bathroom adjoining his room and dumped you on the stool by the sink.  Vil was giving you a lecture but you’d long since mastered the art of tuning him out.  You just let the soothing sensation of the water and his hands in your hair occupy all your focus.  He is skilled at observing you and stops speaking when he notices the glazed look in your eye.  He’s used to your antics by now and falls into a meditative silence, enjoying the routine and intimacy of the process. 

When your hair was dry and styled, Vil led you back to his room and instructed you with a stern look to wait patiently on the chaise this time.  You smiled and did as you were told.  A few minutes later, Vil emerges from his large walk-in closet with an armful of clothes.  You demurely accepted the bundle and headed behind a screen to change.  You emerged to find Vil had swapped out his previous outfit to match your own.  “What do you call this?” you asked him curiously.  “It’s all the rage this season, dear.” Vil smiles at you, pleased to have you take an interest in the clothes and, by extension, him. 

And you were also pleased.  Pleased you’d distracted Vil enough that he hadn’t noticed you’d swapped the fancy shoes he laid out for your old sneakers.  As you walked on Vil’s arm to the waiting car, you were imagining the fun you’d have revealing that detail later.  You may have relinquished some control over your time to Vil, but you’d make sure that you did it on your own terms.

#twst #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #tw: yandere #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader

[infernalodie]

Pope Heyward x Female! Hippie! Reader

Pope has a secret girlfriend that the pogues don’t know about. One day at school they were all going to meet up at Popes locker to head home, but before they get to him reader comes up out of no where and kisses him, and they’re just acting all cute and stuff while his friends are just staring at him from a couple feet away.

So like a few days after that the pogues meet up on a boat ride and depend to meet popes girlfriend but he keeps saying no at first until he finally caves.

So they all meet up at the beach one day and they all end up really liking her

(Could u have Sarah and Cleo be there to like, have it in a reality where they both go to the same school as the pogues)

𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

"𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵"

Inspo: Bob Marley - Is This Love Dominic Fike - 3 Nights

Pairing: Pope Heyward x Hispanic!Fem!reader

Summary: How Pope pulled you was beyond their barrier or understanding...

Warnings: Just fluffy

Words: 2595

Everyone knew that Pope Heyward was completely incapable of getting a girlfriend. Everyone at school knew it, Figure Eight knew it, and probably the entire county did as well. Although it wasn’t Pope’s fault, the Pogues personally liked taking digs at him. Making him forever scared of interacting with a girl as he was constantly reminded of the fact that he was awkward and didn’t pick up on how much he talked. And it stuck with him for a while, always scratching at the back of his skull during parties or in the halls of the school.

“So, small kegger tonight at JB’s?” JJ inquired, looking up from his phone as he looked at the group surrounding John B’s locker. Well, it was just him, John B, Cleo, Kiara, and Sarah. They were missing the genius of their schemes.

“I’m down,” Sarah said. “Wanna help me get some beer from the store?” She grinned, nudging Cleo, who rolled her eyes, unable to waver the smile that formed on her lips. Barely able to finish her nod before Sarah squealed and hugged her.

“John B can get the grill going when we get there and I’ll get the campfire started.” JJ then turned his eyes to Kiara, raising a brow. “That leaves you and Pope to do something other than be smart-asses.”

The blonde laughed loudly when the girl punched his shoulder harshly. But Cleo was quick to take notice of their missing member, frowning slightly. “Where is Pope by the way?”

For some time, their genius had been out on a lot of their hangouts. Saying he had studying to do and that his dad needed his assistance. Now, they would’ve believed that if they hadn’t gone investigating and asked his dad and found out Pope was out with a friend. Who; that was still a mystery. Every time they asked the boy, he avoided it and said it was some guy he was tutoring for a class.

Still, they weren’t convinced and he didn’t show any room for submission to their questions. So, they left it alone and demanded he come and spend some time with them when he got the chance. That was a month ago and he had been with them for a total of 4 days that entire month.

JJ grumbled in annoyance moving past the group. “I’m going to put this runt in a headlock if he backs out on this kegger.”

“Maybe he’s busy, JJ,” John B reasoned, shutting his locker and following the blonde. The three others close in tow. “We shouldn’t force him to–why are you making that face? Did you see him naked?” John B looked where JJ seemed to be in a state of paralysis and felt his chest tighten in shock.

There Pope was, leaning against his locker talking to a girl. And it wasn’t just some girl either, it was you. The local stoner and the girl JJ bought his weed from and had spent a lot of time with at parties. You were leaning against Pope’s front, looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours. Hands pressed to his chest where your nails gently scratched at the fabric that divided you from him. Your golden skin glowed under the lights of the school hall, which oddly complimented Pope in some way. Like you were meant to be there with him.

Everyone in the group knew you in certain capacities, but all had great things to say about you. Known as the down-to-earth girl and weed smoker of the generation. Well, that last part was what JJ took you for. But you were kind to everyone you came across and showed a level of genuine love that would have anyone falling for you. Kiara would know since, for a time, she had liked you before she quickly realized that your affection was felt throughout the group and most of The Cut.

But that didn’t change the fact that Pope pulling you was the hardest thing to believe. Out of everyone, Pope was the last person that should’ve pulled you. “Who do you she is to him?” Sarah asked, a mischievous look on her face. “Maybe sugar mommy.”

“No, he’s definitely in a dom/sub relationship,” Kiara protested. “Can’t tell me otherwise.”

“Maybe they’re just dating,” Cleo said, earning looks from both girls. “We’ve been saying he can’t get a girlfriend. Maybe we just underestimated Pope's abilities.”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “And if that’s the case, he used his skills on the right girl. This way I get free weed from her whenever- Ow!”

He rubbed the pulsing spot of pain as John B shoved him around the corner. “We’ll interrogate him tonight when we get him to confess.”

Out of some beach house, you remember helping your parents build on The Cut, was where you stayed. Although your parents lived just up a small little path leading to their home, this was where you resided. Where you got to call your own personal home you got to do whatever you wanted. Blast music through the night, smoke as much as you weed and smell like a skunk in the morning, or where you got to spend quality time with your boyfriend.

Speaking of Pope, you had only realized how late he was for your guys’ dinner. You had even gone out of your way to make the meal and now you were just cleaning up the house for some ungodly amount of time. J Balvin, Bad Bunny, and Bob Marley had been on constant repeat as you cooked and cleaned what you could. The warm lights hung from the ceilings and Christmas lights Pope helped you put up kept you awake and aware of your guys’ third date. Or what was supposed to be your guys’ third date, but his lack of text or phone call made you believe it might just be for another night.

Hearing the sound of a boat approaching your dock, you moved away from the kitchen and to the back door and stepped outside. The wind of the ocean hitting your face gently with the scent always being a beautiful reminder of what you were thankful to have. But you saw the source of the noise and felt your brows tense together as you saw JJ at the front of the boat, waving hysterically with a beer in hand.

“We’ve come to set you free from the dark hold Pope has placed on you, Y/n,” he called out. “But first, let’s party!”

Behind the rambunctious blonde was the missing piece of your night. His expression was downcasted as he didn’t dare meet your gaze. That confused you more than what the Pogues business was being at your home and being a bit too loud for your liking at this time of night.

There had been many times you had been caught up in their more than common days and lived to regret it. Mainly because you had JJ at your neck begging you for more weed or Kiara always being snotty when she didn’t get what she wanted. So, it was more so the people you experienced those rather adventurous experiences with. But Pope levelled them all out, same as Sarah, Cleo, and sometimes John B.

Stopping at the dock, they started to hop off and tie the HMS Pogue to the end of the dock. “Knock it off, JJ,” Sarah laughed. “This is just a get-together. No one is going to be interrogating anyone. Even though I’d like to have an explanation for this.” She motioned a finger between you and Pope, who was slowly approaching you.

Although he was scared of the fury you had prepared for him, he couldn’t help but take the calm before the storm to his fullest capability. Taking in your clothes that were all his. The black Harvard sweater JJ had gotten him a while back and the grey sweatpants. They looked unapologetically cute on you from how big they were.

“Cariño, ¿qué está pasando?” You whispered in a soft voice, taking one of his hands and gently using your thumb to stroke his knuckles.

Glancing back at the group that was slowly approaching, talking amongst themselves, Pope’s had fitted back to yours with disappointment. “No dejaban de invitarnos a todos a pasar el rato,” he explained. “Quería hacerlo para la cena, pero me retrasaron.”

His use of your first language made you smile, unable to rid yourself of the butterflies that infested your stomach. Heart warming at the sound that shook your core, awakening the onslaught of love and happiness that invaded your body. You weren’t planning on making him feel horrible about missing dinner or getting angry at him. With how the Pogues were, you understood that his time and attention had to be elsewhere sometimes. Not to mention that he’d spent so much time with you ever since you two started dating, him not being able to make a date would’ve happened sooner or later. But the way he spoke, the genuine disappointment he felt for missing out made you relieved you weren’t the only one sad about your guys’ alone time.

Standing up on your tippy toes, you pressed a kiss to his lips and smiled. “It’s alright, babe,” you reassured softly. “We can do it some other time when JJ doesn’t think you put a curse on me.”

“It is a reasonable assumption!” JJ exclaimed. “And you’re speaking her language now? Maybe the curse is placed on you, man.”

Unable to contain your smile, you gently punched the blonde. “Ya basta, JJ. Estás siendo un imbécil,” you laughed. “Since you guys held my boyfriend up from our date, you might as well come in and eat.”

JJ didn’t hold back from pushing past you and Pope, rushing inside to get a plate of food with Cleo in tow. John B muttered a quiet thank you, Kiara giving you a smile and following. Sarah gave a sheepish smile to you and Pope. “Sorry for ruining your night,” she apologized. “We were honestly curious as to when you guys got together and why neither of you told us. But it wasn’t our business, and I’ll apologize on behalf of the others.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sarah.” You smiled, hand tightening its hold with Pope’s. “You guys would’ve found out sooner or later. Better now than later on.”

Pope simply never wanted to tell because of the things his friends would drag you in on. And as much as having you around with them would be amazing, you were his personal getaway. The temple in the middle of the forest of annoyances he dealt with on a daily basis. You were the person he could retreat to and just be with in silence and feel comforted. He wanted that for himself and you understood it fully. So, not telling the group had been the easiest and earliest decision the two of you made 4 months ago.

Stepping inside, Pope wouldn’t lie, but this felt so natural. Not just you two being like this in public with his friends, but everyone being together with you as the brand new addition. Of course, it wasn’t the first time, but this wasn’t just some stupid mission to find gold. This was a simple hangout with friends and just having the time of your guys’ lives. There wasn’t a bombardment of questions from anyone. They all were just being themselves and enjoying the time together. Drinking, smoking, eating, and laughing.

“So, when did you guys start dating?” Kiara inquired, taking a bite of one of the patatas bravas you had made. The group decided to just put all of it on one plate and eat one at a time as a group. Everyone in your small living room with weed smoke lingering in the air and beer bottles scattered across the coffee table.

You, leaning against Pope’s chest and sitting between his legs, looked back at your boyfriend. “You want me to tell them or do you?” You inquired gently, taking the blunt from between his fingers and taking a drag.

“You can,” he said. “I want to hear your voice.”

Everyone was watching and listening and JJ nearly choked on his squared potato. Cleo is unable to hide the expression of complete admiration at Pope’s words. “You guys are completely adorable.”

JJ coughed, dusting his hands off as he stood to his face and held his hand out to Pope. “My boy plays for the Washington Rizzards.”

No one held back from groaning in disgust as JJ looked at them in confusion. John B takes it upon himself to toss an empty beer can at the guy. “Shut up, dude.”

“What? What did I say?”

A laugh fell from your lips as you looked up at the blonde. “Sé útil JJ y coge la Tequilla del armario.” You pointed to the specific cabinet and earned a look at of confusion.

“She said to go grab the Tequilla in the cabinet,” Pope explained. “Did you not pay attention in Spanish class?”

“I was high through that class and you should be blaming your girlfriend for that!” He said, walking away and grabbing the bottle and bringing it over to the group. “Now, continue with your story, please.”

“We started 4 months ago,” you said. “Pope took me out on a date where he made some shitty pasta-”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Pope reassured his friend, earning an unconvinced look from you as he sighed. “Okay, so it was pretty bad, but that’s beside the point.”

“He basically just took me out on his dad’s boat where we smoked, talked, and then he just kinda, asked me out,” you said, face warm at the memory. You left a large chunk of that night out of the conversation since that is more for you and him than anyone else to hear. “And since then, we’ve been together.” You looked back at the boy, smiling bashfully.

“I still can’t wrap my head around how he got you,” John B commented. “No offence Pope, but Y/n is out of your league.”

“Just like I said, he’s on the Washington Rizz– Okay, I get it!” JJ rubbed the back of his neck from the harsh slap inflicted by Kiara.

“Don’t worry, I’m still trying to understand it too,” Pope confessed with a laugh, hands rubbing small circles along your hips. “I mean, I don’t understand why she chose me.”

“Porque eres el amor de mi vida, cariño.” It was instant the response you gave. And it was enough to make Pope’s heart stop for a moment as you looked at him adoringly. Nothing in life could change the happiness that you have felt in these past 4 months of your life. So small in the grand scheme of what is to come, but so important to you. Your parents loved him, your friends loved him, and you loved him. And it might be too soon to say that, but you knew what you felt and you knew what you wanted for the rest of your life.

The sound of gagging earned everyone’s attention with the source coming from JJ, who was holding the neck of the Tequilla bottle having taken a large swig of the harsh alcohol. But his hand held over his mouth made your face twist in anger as you glared at the blonde. “¡Por el amor de Dios, JJ! ¡Lo juro por Dios si vomitas en mi alfombra!”

#pope heyward #pope heyward fanfiction #pope heyward fluff #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward x y/n #pope heyward x you #outer banks #outer banks pope heyward #outer banks imagine #pope heyward x hispanic!fem!reader #x hispanic reader #x hispanic!reader #x hispanic!fem!reader #x hispanic fem reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x hispanic!fem!reader #x poc reader #poc reader

[anachronism-ahitzine]

Anachronism Applications open now til the 18th!

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There will be three check-ins, including the submission date. The estimated timeline for them will be a few days during the weeks of Dec. 17th, Jan. 8th, and Jan. 21st. The zine completion date with all pieces submitted, edited, and published is the first week of February. Final dates will be posted in the discord once everyone has applied and we know the general number of people participating. Mods will give ample notice if this publishing deadline moves. Due to this, if you miss two check-ins without notifying mods, you will not be able to participate and will be dropped.

Artists (illustrations/comics):

Pieces should meet the minimum dimensions of 2500px/8.5in by 3300px/11in (letter size paper!) Ideally, send as a .png or .tiff

Pieces must be finished and fully coloured with the exception of comics after the first page. Comics must have the first page coloured but can have subsequent pages be monochrome. This means that unless the piece requires large amounts of white space, the background should not be left blank.

Please keep in mind that pieces that do not fit the dimensions will have to be rescaled and mods cannot ensure image quality will be the same.

Please sign somewhere on the piece! I want the art to be credited correctly. If you don’t, I’ll add a small watermark with the account you want to be credited.

Writers:

Each piece of allotted a space of 5 pages or 2500 words. If you feel as though what you want to write would go over this amount, contact one of the mods and we can discuss it.

All forms of writing are allowed. However, if the piece needs to be formatted a certain way, please send it as a PDF so I can ensure the format is correct. Otherwise, please send as a .doc, .docx, or .rtf

#a hat in time #ahit #fanzine #ahit text #<using that for posts relating to the zine