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#similar dark skin to mine
fuckyeaharchaeology · 2 years
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The reconstructed face of the “Cheddar Man” (c. 7,000 BCE) compared to his living descendant, Adrian Targett    
The Cheddar Man is a Mesolithic skeleton that was recovered from England’s Cheddar Gorge in 1903. At around 9,000 years old, the Cheddar Man is the oldest complete skeleton ever discovered in the UK, and has long been hailed as the “first Briton.” DNA analysis on the Cheddar Man from 2018 indicated that he was lactose intolerant, had light-colored eyes, dark brown or black hair, and had a dark to black skin tone. Although the discovery of the Cheddar Man’s dark skin tone was surprising for both scientists and the public alike, it corresponds with recent research suggesting that genes linked to lighter skin only began to spread into Europe about 8,500 years ago - approximately 32,000 years later than what was previously believed.  
In addition to the development on his skin tone, the Cheddar Man surprised scientists in 1997 when DNA analysis revealed that he had a living descendant - a retired history teacher named Adrian Targett. Targett and the Cheddar Man share the same mtDNA, which is inherited through the mother. In other words, they share a common maternal ancestor. What is even more remarkable is that Targett lives in Cheddar, only a half mile away from where his 9,000-year-old ancestor was discovered.
Targett was not invited to the initial reveal of his ancestor’s new facial reconstruction, but he has since seen it and has commented on the family resemblance. “I do feel a bit more multicultural now,” he once joked in an interview “And I can definitely see that there is a family resemblance. That nose is similar to mine. And we have both got those blue eyes.”
The development of the Cheddar Man’s skin tone has generated resistance, especially among far-right and white supremacist circles. Targett, however, is unbothered by it, stating that it is “marvelous what scientists can reconstruct once they sequence the DNA.” When asked if he thought whether the findings affected the way people think about race, Targett responded: “Yes, I do think it’s significant. Not many people in Cheddar mind it. But the lesson is that we’re all immigrants, whether you’ve been in a place for 10 minutes or 9,000 years. We’ve all come from somewhere.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months
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Crazy For You was so good! Do you think you’ll continue it or write more similar to that?
Crazy For You Too || LN4
Summary: Just a little follow up the morning after part one ended. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1k Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four
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You woke the next morning feeling strangely groggy and hungover, like there was a laden cloud heavy in your mind. There was no way you were going to be able to go to work but you couldn’t find your phone to call your boss. You searched everywhere but it wasn’t where you usually left it. 
With no other option, you padded off down the hall to knock on Lando’s door. 
“Good morning, Mr Riley,” you greeted the elderly man as he approached from the elevator.
“Would you keep it down next time, some of us like to sleep,” he grumbled as he walked on to his door. “You kids and your violent video games. Up at all hours. No respect.”
“Good morning, baby.” Lando opened the door and narrowed his eyes at Mr Riley before he pulled you inside for a kiss, but you were still reeling from the telling off you had just received. Lando looked like he had a late night and just woken up since he was still wearing only his boxers and his hair was a mess on one side and flat on the other. “What was Carl’s problem?”
You shrugged, genuinely perplexed at the entire interaction. “I don’t know.”
He frowned but it was gone as quick as it came. “How did you sleep?”
You shifted on your feet as you rubbed your wrist subconsciously, the ache seemingly coming on overnight. “Not very well. I had a really bizarre dream,” you admitted quietly as you walked further into the apartment. “I’m actually not feeling too good, I was going to call in sick but I can’t find my phone.”
“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body,” he chuckled, handing his phone over. “Call from mine, love. Then we can go back to bed.”
Lando boiled the kettle while you called your boss, apologising for the late notice, but he was kind enough and told you to rest up. Sinking into the couch with a sigh, you placed the phone on the coffee table and dragged a blanket up over your body.
“Here, love, this will make you feel better,” Lando said as he passed you a steaming mug of herbal tea. You inhaled the aroma of lemon and ginger but there was a sweet scent that you couldn’t quite place. 
Taking a sip, you hummed as it soothed your sore throat and snuggled into Lando’s side. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Lando took the cup and placed it on the table. “It must have been something good,” he teased. His hand drifted up your thigh under the blanket and warmth spread across your skin in response. “How are you feeling?”
“Hot,” you replied honestly, the need to remove your clothes suddenly the most sensible thing you could think of. 
He grinned as he moved your trembling hands and pulled your shirt over your head before reaching for the button on your jeans. “Let me help you, baby.”
You moaned as the cool air kissed your skin but it still wasn’t enough. “I need you, Lan, please touch me.”
His eyes darkened as you fell back onto the couch, the blanket discarded so there was nothing hiding you from him. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips before he could use his voice, but still it sounded pained. “Where?”
You couldn’t think clearly with the fire blazing through you and you spread your legs in search of reprieve as you begged, “Everywhere.”
Lando’s lips eased the burning need in your core and his tongue chased away the fire that licked your skin. The room filled with the wanton sounds that erupted when he curled two fingers inside you and you buried your hands in his hair as you rolled your hips. 
One orgasm rolled into the next as the room spun around you, your quick breaths leaving you lightheaded. You didn’t even think about the consequences as you tugged Lando’s hair until he looked up to meet your eyes from where he lay at the juncture of your thighs. “I need you to fuck me right now, please…fuck, what is wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he soothed as he kissed his way up the length of your body before capturing your lips. He absorbed the cry of delight as he filled you in one stroke and the fleeting thought you had was lost when he started to roll his hips with long, slow thrusts. “I love you, god, you have no idea how much I love you, what I would do for you, for us.”
You barely understood his murmurings in your ear as your pleasure mounted and your nails found purchase in his back as you came. 
Finally, the fire began to smoulder and you could breathe again. It was unlike any fever you had ever had and left you exhausted as Lando lay with you along the couch, dragging the blanket back over you as if he knew you were suddenly feeling the cold. 
“Did you say you love me?” you asked as your heart returned to its normal rate, the whispers lingering in your fucked out brain. 
“No,” he chuckled as he kissed your shoulder and wrapped his arm around your waist. 
“Oh.” You felt foolish and your cheeks warmed with an entirely different heat as you started to sit up.
His arm tightened around you, keeping you flush to his naked body before you could escape. “But I’m fucking crazy for you, baby, of course I love you.”
A knot tied in your stomach at the confession but you put it down to the nervousness of admitting that you felt the same. You had never felt this way about a man and the way he treated you was unlike anyone before him. He spoiled you and took care of you, it was natural to fall for him. “I love you too.”
You felt his smile on your nape and his fingers tickled your sides as he drew abstract pictures on your skin. “So move in with me,” he whispered. “This can be us everyday.”
Click here for part three.
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byeolbeloved · 1 month
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This one is mine
pairing ➛ stalker!sheriff!yunho × reader
genre & warnings ➛ enemies to lovers, yunho is a stalker, smut smut smut, dom!Yunho, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
summary ➛ Moving away from your hometown to escape your collage stalker, you start a new life, exploring the new feeling of being a free woman in the city. However, after a messy situation at the club you are back to where you were years ago, unable to escape him.
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"No law will be able to take me away from you"
-
“This is good for me jen” you yell out from the other room so your friend can still hear you through facetime as you bring two pairs of earrings to your face to see which pair would match better with your fit. 
“Yeah yeah I know and I’m glad you’re trying out new experiences but try not to jump into things so quickly yeah? City life is very different from here Y/N, especially when it comes to partying.”
City life was a drastic change from your hometown. You went from knowing everyone from your street and practically growing up with your neighbours and their kids to now rushing down the bustling loud streets of everyone minding their own business. You admit it was an overwhelming change, especially since you’ve never been much of a people-person. Large crowds of people were never you thing. However, after graduating from college, you wanted a change. To experience something new other than being a people-pleasing goody two shoes and to finally start doing things for yourself and connecting with your needs. 
Or at least that was what you told people when they’d ask you why you decided to switch to city life. The dark truth was you needed to escape him. Him and his tall figure that shadowed behind you. His chocolaty soft hair that complimented his milky skin. Those eyes that looked so pure but you knew so well they weren't.
Jeong Yunho.
The man who was so obsessed with breaking you. 
“I’m going to be in safe hands jen. David and alexa are really nice” you said with a smile posing for her in front of the camera “how do I look?”  
“Drop dead gorgeous babe let me know how many guys drool over you” you giggled at her response. You were wearing a black spaghetti strap silk dress that hugged your body frame perfectly. Your hair was curled and your makeup wasn’t too heavy but complemented your facial features. You didn’t have much experience with clubbing but David and Alexa took you to a few bars with a similar atmosphere to a club, it was their way of slowly introducing you to club life. You met Alexa at the coffee shop she works at that happens to be by your house. You went there regularly for breakfast and that's how you two started talking. Shortly after she introduced you to David, they’ve been friends since middle school.  
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For your first time clubbing, you were actually having a lot of fun. You thought you’d feel overwhelmed as the flashing lights and loud music first made you feel slightly anxious when you first stepped in the club. However, just as David told you, after a few shots, you let loose- enough to get you on the dance floor. 
You 3 years ago would have found dancing at the club cringe. You never understood the fun of jumping around sweaty crowds with loud music. You would have rather listened to your music through your headphones on the bus home- maybe even imagining a little scenario in your head matching the type of song you were listening to. But the adrenaline you felt as the loud music vibrated through you, making you feel it shaking your heart, the crowd yelling an “o” as the beat was about to drop and most importantly, Davids really bad dancing- it was the most fun you have had in a while. 
However the night didn’t last too long. It was only 11pm, which to you would have been way past your curfew, however you were made sure that 1am is “demon time” as Alexa told you many times before coming to this club how she wouldn’t allow you to leave any earlier than 3am. People were advising one another to leave the club as apparently police came in and found illegal substances that someone sneaked in.
“Y/N follow me I know a back door we can go out from” Alexa said raising her voice a little since the music was still loud. 
“What about David?” by the time whispers were set out David had left in a rush. “He’s going to get some other people, don’t worry about him, he'll text us when he’s out” she said, now leading the way to the back door.
But as you were trying to keep up with her, people kept getting in your way, causing you to lose her in the blink of an eye. You tried to keep pushing forward in hopes of reaching a wall and finding a door, or any door to get into so you can quietly pull out your phone to text Alexa as you were scared you’d end up losing your phone in the crowd too. However, you felt a hand grasp your wrist and when you turned around your heart sank.
Jeong Yunho.
What was he doing here? Your thought was cut off as you glance down from his face only to see him in police uniform but not just any police uniform. You look at his chest to see a sheriff badge. He was the sheriff? And out of all places… here? You knew instantly this was no coincidence. Stalker Yunho never stopped stalking you. Even after running away. 
“You wanna bring her in Jeong?” a voice sets you out of your thoughts, looking over to see it belonging to a cherry red haired man, shorter than Yunho. He was also wearing a police uniform, must be his partner.
Glancing at his partner then back at you, this time clicking his tongue to the side of his cheek with a slight smirk on his lips, he eyed you up and down, eyes resting on your chest for a few seconds he said “Yeah, this one is mine.” 
They shared a few other words but you didn’t pay attention. Your eyes were glued on Yunho, you were sure you looked dumb right now with your mouth open and probably lost colour from your face but what the hell. You couldn’t believe he still managed to follow you after your big move that felt so right.
You were mad. You wanted to rip that smug look on his face off. But as always, you also felt small. Especially with his hand still grasping your wrist. Your body didn’t react to move it away. You felt a slight heat sensation running down your core. This is the effect Jeong Yunho had on you. 
“Have a good one sheriff!” his partner says. Anxiety flushes through your chest as you realise this is his time he’s going to finally have you to himself. Again. Like always. 
Pushing you through the crowd, you realise his hand never left yours. His grip on you was actually soft and gentle. Gentle enough for you to easily break free from his grasp. But he knew you wouldn’t. Which is why he confidently held you with that grip. As he’s pushing through the crowd, his back is facing you and you take in his figure. He has definitely grown, not only in height but also in his physique. His shoulders seem bigger and broader. You can deny he looks damn good in his uniform too. 
You’re now in his car. Words have not been exchanged yet. Until he breaks the silence with a chuckle. You nervously look at him, confused as to what could be so funny right now while you’re sitting over here about to piss your pants in fear.
“You’ve seemed to adjust well here Y/N” god hearing him say your name sends shivers down your spine every time. The way your name falls out of his mouth almost feels as if he’s cursing you with a spell.
“Good choice with those earrings, the others seemed too tacky” he leans into your ear and whispers. You freeze. 
What.
“You know where I live?” your voice sounded weaker than how you wanted it to come out, cursing in your head knowing he’s probably getting excited from that.
He lets out a laugh. “Oh Y/N, you’ve known me for all those years yet you’re surprised. I will say though, I was a bit hurt since you didn’t tell me about our move.”
“You mean my move”
“Our baby, you’re still mine” suddenly he speeds up his car causing you to jolt back in your seat. “And I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon” he snakes his hand on your thigh.
“You’re sick. You need help Yunho, you’re a psychopath” you have no power in this situation.
“And yet you’re in the sick psychopaths car” he looks at you and you move your head away. You move your head away because you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed that he’s right. It has always been like this. Yunho has never been rough with you, forced you to do anything. At the end of the day it’s you who accepts him. Who melts in his hands.
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You’re now pressed up onto the wall of his apartment. His hands are on each side of your head and he’s staring straight down at you. As if you were his prey. Eyes filled with hunger.
“Let go of me” you try pushing him off
“Let go of you? You’re the one who’s touching me baby” he chuckles out slowly leaning in closer. Your eyes avoid his and you feel the heat rushing through your cheeks. He’s right again.
“Why do you do this? For god sake you’re a cop- a sheriff even. You should know this is wrong” you’re now aware about the fact that you indeed were the one touching him, keeping your hands to your sides, he surely noticed that because he's now dangerously leaned down close to your face, nose grazing yours.
“No law will be able to take me away from you. I’ve made it very clear that you are mine” his lips are now brushing against yours.
Your lips naturally part and you’re now eager for a touch. A kiss. Anything. 
“You really want this to end? Even though you’ve came on my hands and face? You’ve yelled out my name with such lust, should we tell that to the judge once you take me to court? Are you gonna visit me in jail and have me fuck you through my cell?”
His fingers are now trailing over your body. Starting from your hands, going all the way up to your arms, he caresses a line across your collarbone and circles down to your boobs, one hand stopping to pinch a nipple and the other hand sliding straight under your dress instantly feeling your wetness. 
“Does it excite you? Fucking you through my cell?” he breathes onto your lips.
“Yunho…” you breathe out, a hand sliding on the back of his neck while the other tangles in his hair slightly pulling him more down “please kiss me”
Without another word his lips crash onto yours. Hungry, needy, rough as if he’s been waiting to do it for ages.
You whine at the loss of touch as he moves away from you for a second before swiftly lifts you up and takes you to his room.
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Clothes were off in a matter of seconds. Or should you say ripped off. “Yunho!” you shriek when you hear your panties and dress rip and glance at them on the floor.
“I’ll buy you other ones” he lays you down on the bed connecting your lips once more “although you won’t be needing them around me” he chuckles out before sucking a harsh hickey on your neck, causing you to moan. You feel his smile on your neck as you start unbuttoning his shirt. You let out a frustrated huff struggling at removing his gun belt and pants so he helped you remove them.
“Look at you so eager to rip off my clothes. You were demanding me to let go of you minutes ago” he teases as he wiggled out of his briefs, now exposing his hard on, gulping at the idea of it fitting. You’ve done this many times but it’s been so long you almost forgot the sting of pain you’d feel at the beginning.
Sitting up he grabs his cock in his hands. You think he’s about to slide in but instead you feel him sliding his tip between your folds, causing you to grip on the bedsheets and let out a loud whimper. He slides his tip up and down your folds before ribbing circles around your clit with it, both of you shuddering at the sensation. 
“You wanna run away from me Y/N? Hm?” he now leans close to you supporting his weight with both hands by the sides of your head. “Let’s see how fast you run from me.” he says before you feel him slowly entering you.
“One…”
“Two…” he pushes deeper
“Three..” deeper
“Four…” even deeper
“Five” what is he counting
“Six….” oh my god hes counting how many inches hes putting inside you
“Yunho please” you whimper out grabbing his ass and pushing him into you deeper earning a loud grunt from him. He slams into you and starts thrusting.
“Y'know I was gonna play nice guy with you today… even though you left me like that… wanted to make you come back to me.. ah… but that fucking dress didn’t help fuck” he now grabs your hips keeping you in place as you were squirming around.
“Ah Yunho please d-don’t st-ah op” he’s practically drilling into you now and you roll your eyes back. 
“I won’t stop… I never will ah when will you accept me Y/N accept that you’re mine, even your pussy knows this by the way you’re sucking my cock right now god so tight” 
“Mine all fucking mine” he’s whispering in your ear over the sounds of your skin slapping and squelching echoing in the room.
Although his thrusts are rough and hard, there’s a hint of passion in them, your bodies are so close together, skin rubbing against each other, almost as if he’s trying to merge your bodies together.
“Yunho I’m gonna-” you don’t finish your sentence before you feel the familiar feeling on heat rush out of you and soon later you feel his trusts get sloppy before he fills you up still chanting “mine” in your ear. 
You spend a minute there, catching your breaths before you reach your hand out to his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. Your body wants him. Seeing him on top of you right now, his eyes sparkling at you. You are reminded of why although you ran away from him, you always accept him.     
“You’re not going anywhere” kiss
“You can’t run away from me” kiss
"I’ll make you fall in love with me” kiss
“and its gonna happen tonight” thrust.
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fieldofdaisiies · 2 months
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Scars Like Mine
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paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 3,3k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes, like childhood trauma and fire, so please, read with caution. playlist: hurts | scars to your beautiful | beauty marks | stronger | fly with me
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“Where did you get those from?”
Azriel startles, both at the little voice talking to him and the soft touch against his hand. It is featherlight, almost like a gust of wind and feels so odd in a place like this. In front of him, is the barren landscape of the Illyrian mountains, around him the eerie war camp, frigid and somber. 
The shadowsinger’s gaze drops immediately and he‘s met with big, brown eyes that belong to a tiny girl, barely reaching to his knee. Her wings are tightly tucked in. She is wearing a dark blue wool hat that has a few holes in it, and a jacket that looks far too big for her small frame. 
Shock runs deep the moment he sees that half her face and also the exposed part of her neck is marred by scars, very similar to those on his hands. But despite those scars, there is a smile on her lips. One that seems so bright within the darkness of this camp. 
Azriel’s throat is all of a sudden so dry and constricts when he wants to talk. A cold shiver curls around his spine, and his knees tremble. What could have possibly been done to her? Where did she get the scars from?
Finally he crouches down, his hand still in the hold of the little Illyrian girl. He is nearly on eye level with her when his lips part to say something, anything, but she beats him to it.
“From fire?” Her eyes open wider, and curiosity sparks within the deep chocolate brown. Her lower lip, though, trembles slightly. “Like mine?”
Slowly, Azriel’s chin dips, his chest squeezing and his heart beating in a sad rhythm. He has accepted so, but hearing it out loud hurt. He feels tremendously bad for every child who had to experience a similar fate to what he had to go through and telling by the amount of scars she has on her body, the fire she had to face wasn’t a small one.  
“Do they still hurt?” She flips Azriel’s hand in hers, the back of it exposed now, and trails her little index finger over one particularly bad and deep scar. 
“Not that much,” Azriel says in a calm, soft voice. “Only in winter when my hands are so dry.” He smiles at her and the little girl nods, a pensive look on her face.
“Mine do too,” she finally says after a moment. “You need to put cream on them. My mummy always puts cream on my skin. I can ask her if she can help you, too?” Her smile widens a little, her eyes looking so hopefully that tears brim Azriel’s.
But the mention of her mummy—Azriel suddenly realises that the girl is all alone, in the middle of the war camp. 
“Where is your mother? Why are you here all alone?”
A cold breeze blows through the war camp, and Azriel notices that other than a few Illyrian brutes the little girl is completely alone (now with him, and he would of course protect her, but otherwise she is alone).
“Mummy picks up our laundry. I am waiting for her here. She is right in there.” Using her index finger, she points at the building behind Azriel and a breath of relief leaves the shadowsinger. 
Thank the Cauldron, she isn’t alone and her mother is close. Azriel’s tense shoulders visible relax, wings slouching to the ground.
The little girl drops his hand and looks at him in shock, eyes wide open, lips parted. “Careful!” she cautions. “Never drag them over the ground, there are pebbles and stones, you might get hurt.”
This is all it needed for a single tear to break the damn and slide out of his eye. Azriel releases a shuddering breath and says, “Oh thank you so much for the warning.” He quickly tucks in his wings, straightens up and smiles at her.
It is most definitely something her mummy has told her, and Azriel has to smile at the thought. A mother who truly looks after her child…
“She taught me how to fly when no one would,” the girl tells Azriel. “They thought I couldn’t fly with my crippled wing.” She lifts her right wing to show it to Azriel, the thin black membrane also adorned with the same scars that grace her skin. 
Azriel swallows thickly, his jaw clenching so hard it almost hurts. “But I‘m sure you proved them wrong.”
The corners of her mouth lift. “I did. I can actually fly really well.” A joyful grin spreads over her face and a kernel of pride blooms in Azriel’s chest — of course she can and of course she showed all the Illyrian fuckers that despite her wing being marred by scars it doesn’t stop her from flying. 
“Do you like flying?” he asks, still in his crouched position but now with his wings neatly tucked in behind his broad shoulders.
The girl shrugs and then inhales deeply. “I like it, but I‘m often not allowed to. Only when mummy has time.”
That makes sense. She is very young and letting her fly alone would be much too risky. Azriel nods slowly and braces his hands on his thighs. He makes a mental note to buy cream, although the mention of someone else taking care of his hands sounded so very wonderful. But obviously he could never accept that offer.
“What is your name?” the little Illyrian asks and brings Azriel back to the moment.
“Azriel,” he answers and likes that here in Illyria where somehow everyone knows him, she doesn’t know who he is. 
“I like this name.” She smiles and bounces on her toes, reaching for a shadow that curls towards her. “Do they have a name as well?”
Azriel has to chuckle at that. She is incredibly adorable and somehow talking to her, and her treating him like any other person and not showing a hint of fear, does something to his heart. And to his eyes. He clears his throat and says, “Unfortunately not. They are just my shadows.”
One of them now curls around her finger and it makes her giggle.
Azriel‘s gaze drops to her shoes. They seem a little too small and old and dirty. One is not fully intact, and it makes him sad. 
Quickly, he asks, “But, do you have a name?” in order to not overthink why she might be wearing those old shoes. It would break his heart.
“Of course, I do. My name is—”
“Elia!” A female voice calls and Azriel looks over his shoulder and is met with a female of beauty he has never seen before. You drop the basket with laundry you have held before and run towards him and Elia.
There is terror in your voice, and horror etched upon your features and Azriel quickly straightens up. He lifts his hands but you completely ignore him. All your attention on the little girl. “Elia! I told you to stay close to the building!”
You are so scared. So incredibly worried and terrified and Azriel’s shadows sense it, tell him.
“I don’t mean any harm or danger—”
“I don’t care. She isn’t supposed to talk to any Illyrian brute!” you snap and finally meet his gaze, your arm sliding around your little girl’s shoulders, pulling her to you. 
You have never seen a male of such beauty before and— he is the High Lord’s shadowsinger. But that doesn’t matter. After everything that has happened to you —to her— you can’t risk anything. Never, ever again. What has been done to you in Ironcrest—
Your breath catches, but before either of you can say anything, Elia opens her mouth. “He has scars like me, mummy.”
Your stomach could, and your throat works around a swallow. “I am very sorry to hear that,” you finally say and your gaze brushes his again. A cold smile is on his face, but other than that there is just empathy. No hint of cruelty, or 
“He also got them from fire,” Elia adds and looks up at you with her big brown eyes, her lips pouted. “Just like me, mummy.”
“Oh baby.” You brush your hand over her head and then turn to address Azriel again. “I’m sorry that this happened to you as well. And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. Thank you for keeping her safe while I was gone.”
Azrirl bows his head. He technically didn‘t do anything, Azriel thinks and says, “Nothing to thank me for.” 
“But there is.” The sincerity within his eyes is proof enough that you really mean and he can sense your gratitude. After what has probably happened to your little girl, no risk could be taken.
“Do you want to have dinner with us, Azriel?”
“Elia!” you reprimand with a chuckle. She and her big mouth. But she is so joyful and so hopeful and seeing your little daughter happy is the greatest gift the Mother could ever give you. She has finally met someone with scars like hers, and you would love to invite him, solely to thank him for looking after her while you were inside the laundry place. 
He didn’t mean any harm and was kind to her which is a rarity for Illyrian males up here. 
But he works for the High Lord, you doubt he has time for such mundane things as having dinner with you and your daughter. 
“I’m sorry, she is always so straightforward. I would love to invite you to have dinner with us to thank you looking after her, but I totally understand if you are too busy and don’t have time to– ”
“I would love to have dinner with you. Only if it is alright for you, of course,” Azriel interrupts you and smiles a little sheepishly. “But there is absolutely nothing to thank me for. I didn’t do anything.”
Still holding onto your daughter, you step a little closer to him, gaze honest and sincere when it locks with his. “You did. You made her feel protected and safe. She wouldn’t have talked to you otherwise.” You swallow, and mean every word you say. It is the truth. “And you made her smile and I will forever thank anyone who does so.” Reaching out, you grab his hand and squeeze it lightly. 
What has been done to her can never ever be changed again, but every day forward and every little smile on her face, cures a little bit of the pain. And whoever helps you two in going forward and bringing her happiness, has a place within your heart. 
Azriel now also closes his fingers, naturally curling them around your hand. He wants to say something, anything, just so he can look at you a little longer without making it seem weird. But he doesn’t have to say anything, Elia does the job for him. 
“And after dinner, you have to put my cream on his hands as well. Azriel told me that in winter his scars also hurt a lot.”
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
“Don’t, please, I can do that.” Your cheeks flush again at his closeness and how helpful he is. You are not used to behaviour like this from other Illyrian males and so you appreciate it greatly. 
Azriel places the plates in the sink and smiles at you. “Please, allow me to help you.” Lastly, he collects Elia’s empty glass, leaving yours and his own on the table, both still filled with a bit of wine. When everything is in the sink he collects a cloth and cleans the table. 
Dinner was wonderful and Elia asked Azriel many questions about his scars but also his shadows and if he likes to fly and what he likes most about flying. He answered each one of her questions, making your heart thrum happily within your chest. 
You know he didn’t tell her the real story about his scars, having seen the look in his eyes. Despite being grateful for it for sparing her the worst details, your stomach has been twisting and coiling since he started with his story. What could have possibly happened to him?
Elia didn’t want to go to bed when it was time for her (actually she stayed up even an hour longer than she is used to, but you allowed her to do so, loving how she thrived in Azriel’s presence, finally having met someone who shares the same past with fire as she does. 
She was almost asleep at the table, chin resting on her hand when you picked her up, cradled her to her chest. “Good night, Azriel, and thank you for sharing your story with me,” she said to the shadowsinger and smiled at him. 
Azriel said her in return, “Thank you for inviting me to dinner and remember all these scars are just proof of how strong you are.” This brought tears to your eyes. 
By the time you reached her room and laid her down she was already asleep. 
He sits down at the table again and you claim the spot beside him, a shy smile on your lips and a small jar of cream for his scars in your hands. 
“We are not from here actually,” you start and loose a long breath, lifting your eyes to meet his hazle ones. “Elia and I come from Ironcrest. After the fire, we fled. Ironcrest was no longer safe for us. My…my ex-husband wanted us gone, thinking I betrayed him and that Elia was not from him. It was utter bullshit, I would have never cheated on him, but his mind told him other things.” 
Your throat constricts as the memories replay in your mind and a shuddering breath leaves you. You close your eyes for a second and suddenly feel a soft touch against your hand. 
“You continue when you are ready,” Azriel whispers, his hand gently placed upon yours. Your lids flicker open and with a look full of gratitude, you meet his eyes and slowly bow your head. 
“Elia had to pay the price for it. I collected some last things for our departure when he set our house on fire. She wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t there fast enough. When I returned I saw the massive flames. It is all I can remember, and Elia’s cries. How she sobbed and wailed and how I held her and dragged her outside. And I–”
“But you were.” He squeezes your hand. “She wouldn’t be here today, if you had been too late. There is no blame on you. She got out of the fire before it was too late. You saved her. You, alone as a young Illyrian female, fled the camp and came here to give her a better life.”
His words…
Tears run out of your eyes and you flip your hand over, cradling it tightly and then lifting it. You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. “No one has ever made me see the past like this. I’ve always blamed myself.” You swallow around the ache in your throat, tears tasting salty on your lips. “I should have stayed with her. Not left her alone.”
“You can’t always expect the worst and you arrived there in time,” Azriel breathes, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand, his own eyes glassy, tears visible in the corners of them. “You did all you could, and do so every day. Don’t be so hard on yourself, I know you are a great mother.”
Gratitude fills every fibre of your body, and through your tears you smile at him. “Thank you, and please,” –you have to chuckle– “this time just allow him to thank you.”
He dips his chin, the shadows around him that have been calm before, now swirling quite vividly around their owner. 
Azriel reaches out the hand that is not held by yours, and uses his thumb to brush away some tears and then tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are allowed to thank me, but only if I am allowed to say that Elia most definitely has the best mother in all of Prythian.”
You close your eyes when new tears start to bubble up. You want to shake your head at him, but his palm is placed against your cheek, his thumb stroking over the damp skin. 
“And most definitely also the most beautiful mother in the entire world.” His smile brightens and there is so much honesty within his eyes, you really believe him that he means it. It does something to your heart and to your soul, starting to glow deep within your chest. 
Your cheeks heat, probably also turning bright red and so you need to change the topic. 
“Now let me take care of your hands.” You let go of one of his hands so you can reach for the small jar. Azriel also lowers his own hand, humming in approval. 
“And while you do so, maybe you want to tell me the real story of what happened to them?”
Sadness and pain passes over his face replacing the former lightness. He says nothing for a long moment. You give him time, the same he gave you before, and unscrew the jar, scooping up a bit of the cool cream with two fingers. 
Gently, you apply it to the back of his hand, softly starting to apply it to the rough surface. 
“My step-brothers thought it would be interesting to test my Illyrian healing powers. They held me, poured oil over my hands and set them on fire. When my father’s warriors arrived, it was already too late, the damage has been done.”
Shock knocks the breath from you. How could people be so cruel? How could your own family do something like this?
“I am so sorry.”
“It is alright,” he whispers. Azriel enjoys the soft touch of your hands and what you do to him too much to allow himself to dwell on past memories and those haunting experiences. He wants to revel in the feeling of your hands on his forever. 
“But it isn’t,” you insist. “It never is. I hope they paid for it?” You lift your gaze to meet his, and move on to his other hand, gently taking it into yours while beginning to work a bit of the leftover cream into his skin before scooping up some more. 
“They did,” he assures you and releases a long sigh, visibly relaxing in his chair. “Your hands work wonders.”
A little giggle leaves you, letting your fingers glide over his, intertwining them for a split second. “I assume you need to come here more often then?”
“Is this an invitation?” With a small smirk on his lips, Azriel raises his brow at you. 
“I’m sure Elia would appreciate it greatly.” You smile at him. 
Azriel leans forward a bit and your breath catches, heart hammering against your ribcage. For most part of your life, you have feared males, avoided them like the plague except for the male you one day had to marry but who is now your ex-husband. It is different with Azriel. You like being near him despite not even really knowing him. But you like to be in his presence, to talk to him, to touch him. It is something new, and something that surprises you but it is a welcome feeling. You like it. And he even has the bonus that also Elia likes him and feels safe and secure in his presence.
“And her mother?” Azriel says in a voice that is an octave lower, almost like a velvety brush against your skin. “Would she like to see me again?”
You grin at him, some tears having dried on your cheeks by now. “She would love to see you again.”
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tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire
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enbesbians · 4 months
Text
‘LUMIÈRE (light)’
artistic obsessive! ellie x in love! reader
cw: knife play, obsessive! ellie, blood play, stalker! ellie, oblivious! reader, fingering (r! receiving), tribbing, nipple play if you squint
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MINORS DNI
summary: ellie is an odd girl… she likes odd things and does odd stuff. her obsessiveness and possessive nature is too much to grasp but you can’t help yourself but needing a taste of her torture. her rebellion and outlook on the world was attractive, passing through every red flag she possibly had with a salty teared kiss. she was the light in a room filled of chipped paint and dirtied tile— her blade carving the prettiest of pictures that you seemed to love on the thick of your skin. ‘hang them up on the wall, let the world see… you are mine and always will be’
a/n: warning if you don’t like blood play and knife play… do not proceed. this was too much, ill admit, but i really wanted to grasp the insanity ellie has for the reader. this isn’t proofread so this might be all over the place and have a multitude of mistakes but let’s not pay attention to that… i hope you end up enjoying nonetheless. (i also made the mistake of referencing ellie’s room as yours… just forget that happened)
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no one told you in the beginning ellie already knew who you were. she knew your name, she knew that you worked down the busy strip of the city where only cute little old women would buy brooches for their dresses and fluffy scarfs, she knew that you lived approximately twenty minutes away on foot and five by car. you didn’t know that you had already been drawn on many of the pages in her sketchbook before she said hello, lying saying that she drew it after the fifth ‘accidental’ meeting.
to be this oblivious was a skill and to be this good at stalking was impressive, it was like a new profound profession. ellie was good at being odd like this— she never questioned her own antics, thinking that whatever she did was in good faith. she just worked off her needs by impulse. the first time you complimented her thick brown jacket that she placed on the counter to buy, she got a real good look at you. that tired stare, forced to be kind after the repetitive small talk you’d give every customer. in some ways, she knew that it was fake— your ‘hello’ and ‘have a good day’ had nothing but boredom laced within each syllable— but she couldn’t get enough of how beautiful you were. you were a light that she needed to obtain in her darkness, so she took it upon herself to study you.
many times she’d come into the store and wouldn’t even buy anything— wearing hats and beanies and even her roommates clothes to hide the fact that it could be her but you didn’t pay attention even to the regulars who’d come almost every day. she learned your favorite kinds of music while you spoke with a coworker, she learned your favorite color and what you liked to eat after a long shift. she took mental notes and kept them in memory for as long as she could hold them.
she’d watch you from across the street, seeing how you’d struggle to lock the door during closing hours. she noticed how angry you got when it wouldn’t work or if you had left the keys inside, all to open the door’s gate and repeat each step. calculated and smart, making the first official meet seeming as though it was all coincidental, saying all the right words, mentioning all your favorite things, loving how your eyes beamed with excitement thinking that you and ellie had been similar in many ways no one else had.
the connection that built off that first meet was powerful. ellie played her cards extremely well making each encounter better than the last, her presence now seen knowing that you didn’t mind her random pop ins to your job, you encouraged it and looked forward to seeing that weird auburn haired girl and her raspy laugh.
after a few months, you took her to your house, cooking spaghetti that you had learned from the internet which ended up too bland and too watery, forgetting the bread in the oven that was now too crispy to enjoy, apologizing over and over that you had messed it up. ellie didn’t care, she adored how hard you tried to impress her. the noodles twirling against her silver fork that had flowers carved into it’s handle, rolling her tongue against her lips with eyes that showed her need of you. she took you to your bedroom, where the sauce of the pasta had vanished and replaced itself with the warm folds of your messy slit.
you’d explore the inside of her mouth, tongue tasting of beer and fingers of left over bread and parmesan cheese. her lips would explore the flower of your labia of the thump of your clit, dressing it with her sweet salvia and drunken words. she sucked your cunt deeply, fingers digging into the inner of your thighs with her nose tickling against your pubic bone. then she laid on the soft indent of your comforter, her hips fucking up into your face with conviction, hands buried in the back of your head as she moaned your name over and over again.
ellie was obsessed and so were you.
time worked on her side and the way you followed her made her feel invincible. you fell for her charm, the way she talked about art so eloquently and the expanse of her taste in music mixing in with your own, playing the stings of her new guitar she bought at the old record and instrument shop down the way. you fell for her odd way of speaking, the numerous ‘ums’ and abrupt laughs between her words. awkward and fantastical, hyper yet calm. scratching the back of her neck and picking at the skin of her nailbeds. you fell for her love for weed and the scent that carried on in her skin.
she dressed in clothes, weirdly put together, hanging off her body with its interesting style, looking on the brink of disintegration. they were distressed, faded, but put in a fashionable way that would look like utter shit on others. the peak of elastic from her boxers shown as she stretched, her toned abdomen crafted. her worn converse that seemed to be each pair she owned— black, red and blue, all reaching the end point of being at a functional wear. she made it look sexy, her rebellious and don’t give a fuck attire caught your attention. it brought you in.
she wouldn’t let anyone interfere. kindly asking who people were after you seemed a little to excited of their presence when theyd walk in the shop or if you had texted someone a little too long with a smile resonating on you lips. you found it cute, endearing even, not knowing that a ball of fury dropped at the center of her gullet. she’d find them, watch them, seeing how pretty the could be in the sight of your vision, knuckles whitening as she fought the urge to pound them in the center of their face. she wanted to watch them bleed from their noses or see the vessels of their eyes pop. she wanted to see them scared, she wanted them to know who she was and what you were to her. she hadnt though, she needed to act smart. she needed you as hers, without the interruption of any other. she asked you to be her partner in which you agreed to before she had even finished her sentence. and from then, she felt confident. she was yours and you were hers.
slowly, her true colors showed. the gentle shade of what you thought was her color was now a red. the anger she always had within came to the surface. her obsessive desire played in the form of her words and the tone of her voice and the pounds of her thrusts. she fucked you like she hated you, yelled at you like she despised you, touched you like she loved you. the fear of losing her bottled you up and made you sick to the point of missing multiple days from work, calling her over and over just for her to sit and stare at her phone as if she wanted to teach you a lesson only for her to be two buildings down. she needed to keep tabs, it was her own obligation. her questioning on your friends were now more rough and irritable, hating the smile she sought out for from first meet and only wanting it directed at her.
she took pictures, so many of them. polaroids hung on the chipped wall of her art room that she finally let you see, noticing her odd behavior and interest in you was a tad more than normal. her artwork had been of you, the blotches of blues, reds and yellows implementing how she felt in that very moment her brush slashed the canvas. it would’ve been smart to stop whatever was happening between you both but you were too far gone. you couldn’t get enough of her. she was just that good… just that additive… just that possessive. she owned your mind and your body and all the red flags that screamed for release had been scribbled away by the dull tip of her sketching pencil.
you said sorry so many times and she yelled… so many fucking… times.
her fingers vibrating deep into your cavern, it’s tips prodding devilishly in your walls, grunting all the names of people who called you pretty, telling you that you were hers and hers only. her tongue slivered down into your throat, singing her sensual cry as she pleaded you to never leave. ellie was a piece of work, and you couldn’t find all the pieces to her shattered vase but you still tried to tape it all together instead of using glue. she was too stubborn, too headstrong to be controlled, to be tamed.
you fell in love with her nonetheless. framing her devotion to you like a golden plaque. you loved how her pupils dilated when she stared at you, no matter how angry or how lustful they may have looked. she asked you why you were so happy even though her face stood at a permanent scowl, though she had a shadow rimming around her aura, red like crimson, hot like hell, you’ve fallen for the landscape of the scattered freckles that dotted on her cheeks and down her neck. it was bittersweet, the push and pull and dull ruinous bickering of unwarranted jealousy. you spoke like broken lovers, bodies in a celestial light fated to be doomed if only you hadn’t been so blind.
the collision of her character had you in an awe, not wanting to miss a second of hypocrisy knowing that if she told you her eyes color was brown though they were green, you’d believe her. you yearned to be close to her, trusting her rage as if that was what love was. no one has ever made you feel as alive as she had. no one made you feel as pretty as she did. you’d think of the times she made love to you, her legs intertwined with yours as her cunt rolled down onto yours, lips feathering around your ankle as she moaned her addiction towards you. you gave into her, bucking your hips into hers, needing her warmth as close as possible, needing to be inside her flesh and wear it like that brown coat she bought the first time she locked eyes with you. you were enticed with her spanks and the sting that lingered against your flesh. how her nimble fingers clenched around your throat, growling at how good your pussy felt and how pretty you looked wearing fear and arousal. you were infested with the hallucinations of her far from perfect personality, hearing the misplaced strings and untuned guitar— no matter what she played and how she played it, it felt right. she was perfect.
one argument led to separation, planned successfully as she distanced herself for weeks in which you thought was the final end. all messages that were scent had been read from her, as well as every call was denied. she thought you were fucking your coworker— the busty older woman who often brought cookies, calling all youthful people ‘baby’ as a welcoming gesture. she saw how she touched your shoulder and how you giggled at her jokes. her jaw clenched and her eyebrows stayed knitted as she thought of the worst even though in the back of her mind she knew how pathetically in love you were with her.
you missed her and you wanted her. you missed the smell of her college, the stench of weed and the sight of her breasts and how they fit so perfectly in your hands. you missed her smile and her boyish style of clothes you’d hold onto in the dead of the night.
she gave in, asking you to come over since her roommate was going to be gone for the weekend to stay over a family’s house for something she didn’t mention. you agreed a second after you viewed the text, pleading your manager to leave early that worked in your favor.
it was cold in her apartment, the thin white curtains washing like a quiet wave against the glow of the sun that sunk through— it’s beams coloring the floor orange and yellow like one of her gouache palettes. no light had been turned on, relying on the autumns afternoon sunset to bounce off the depth of her cheeks and the green of her irises. she exhaled a heavy breath and then came a thin film of bitter smoke escaping from her nostrils, brushing at the upper of her lip. you stared at her, inhaling it’s stench you hated but loved coming from her. your eyes glassy as you felt this would be the absolute end of what you and ellie had transpired and what ellie planned all along.
“so.” she sighed, “ya gonna tell me why you look like you’re about to cry?” her voice deep and empty of empathy, yet it sounded so sexy the way it croaked from her throat.
“i don’t want to lose you.” you choked, nearly letting the tear fall down your cheek.
“stop fucking up.”
“im trying.” you admitted, not knowing what you should do or what could’ve been done to prevent her from being so angry.
“you’re mine you know that? all those people who try can’t get to you. do you understand that?” her body now turning towards you. strand of her auburn hair running in between her eyes, “no one has what you and i have… no one can take that away… they don’t have the chance, the willpower, the ability to be me and anyone who has any fragment of what i am. im the only one you need… im the one who loves you. who can fuck you better than any woman could ever… face it. i know you know it.”
you stared at her, eyes staggering as you gulped every word she spat which felt like a lump struggling to be let down. her words was harsh and rough like a midwinter breeze. she was so beautiful to you, your pupils must’ve formed hearts knowing that ellie viewed you in a way that made you feel like a prize. it was true, she was better than any girl you’ve ever been with— she kissed you and no matter how long you’ve been without, you could taste the mint chapstick left over the skin of your lips.
“im all yours… no one else’s.” you breathed, “only yours ellie.” loving the way her voice sounded in your cry.
her unoccupied hand slid against your burning hot cheek. she kissed you. the lust that was now heightened is so desperately trying to be held with a simple press of lips. such an innocent kiss, with now her lips moving and yours following. sounds of cupped kisses as your lips shyly mold in with one another— her head tilting to it’s side, nose tickling against the side of yours. it picked up its pace, drowning in the movement of her tempo, finding yourself in the center of her bed.
your body quivered involuntarily under ellie’s touch, hovering you with her toned arms beside your head. the familiar bliss of her invading your personal bubble taking you by complete astonishment, a pleasant one at that. your tongue swirled around in her mouth, tasting the bitter flavor left on her taste buds, her mouth with much more expertise and experience, you’d known she was a woman of many hidden talents— your mind was fuzzy and floating to a graceful blur as your oxygen wholly snatched itself from your lungs. pulling away momentarily, an obvious string of saliva connected both of your swollen lips as eyes met, she was about to speak again yet found no need in words when the language of your bodies expressed the heat of this very moment too perfectly. she licked your lips, like a cat steadily lapping water, inhaling the bottom of your lip heating the familiar hum of her moan.
each suck, she looked at you, studying the way your lashes flickered open, chest heaving as she gave you a look of massive incredulity whilst shaking her head as a small fit of giggles escaped her mouth, silently snaking her hand around your throat. her knee pressed in between your legs, grinding down at it’s jean as her lips feathered yours, watching you roll your hips.
“such a pretty baby…” she murmured.
infested with carnality, day and night. ellie’s mind couldnt escape; as if it was the horrid and angry deep sea, crashing against the softness of the hot sand, in need of something to fix prurience, her wants which was you. to be fair, it was noticeable how you both operated whenever with each other. you wanted her just as badly as she wanted you. anyone could just sense it, feel it, cut it in the thickening air of their razor nails. the body languages, the way you both spoke, the way your eyes stared extreme intent.
“ellie…” you purred, hand riding along the dip of her shoulder blade, hands finding its way in her warm strands.
she called your name back.
the tingling sensation rose within your body, almost electrifying your whenever you heard your name being called from those pretty pale red lips. just thinking about her got you so worked up— altering her breathing, letting it become staggered and desperate.
she drew her eyebrows together at any given second you felt pleasure from her knee as if she could feel what you felt. just from your voice alone made her want to pin you down, even through the phone at every nightly phone call whenever she wasn’t angry, or when you both met… it took everything in her to tame herself and not pounce onto you. yet her eyes didn’t lie— how they looked at a squint, with a devilish dark aura, taking in each and every time you’d fumble over your words which made her blush a bright shade of red.
the air was hot and heavy despite the chill from the window, “ride it..” she grunted, moving along your grinds, feeling the heat weave through your pants onto hers. she’d slip in words she knew you’d like, calling you her ‘good girl’ from time to time. it never failed to make you shrivel up. ‘so pathetic’, she thought, enjoying you and your weak ability to hold yourself together around her. how would you manage if she used you as a plaything, diving deep into her demented mind and make you body feel disgusting as well as beautiful. would you be ready for that? she’s already given you a taste.
“you… make me… want to use you, like you’re nothing… but fuck you like you’re everything.” the words coming out slurred and meaningful. her eyes gulping the color of your eyes. she moved her body, you whining at the empty feeling of her knee. leveling her face at your legs, she pressed kisses starting at your ankle and to your knee, moving her lips as her tongue would peak through, letting spit form and absorb in your jean until she reached your waist.
“please…” you whimpered, a smile curling at her lips, fingers making its way to undo the clasp of your pants, yanking it down which made you gasp at the sudden movement. she continued her kisses, the cold inhale of her breath washing against your skin as she pressed her lips at the lining of your underwear, to your thigh and down your calf before she ran her tongue up again meeting with the fabric of your shirt.
she pressed her face into your stomach, raising her head as it dragged all the way up your torso, inhaling the sweet smell of your detergent as well as the soap that coated your skin, until she found your neck, taking a bite without much warning— feeling the flesh sink between the spaces in her teeth. ‘so soft’, she thought, letting her lips latch and suck roughly, as she used her unoccupied hand to pull your body closer to her, resting herself in between your legs once again. her tongue rippled and rolled against the aching bitten part of your neck, popping herself off before she pressed a kiss at the hem of your ear, “am i allowed to whatever i want with you?” she whispered, raising the same joint towards her mouth and inhaling it, pressing more kisses at the side of her face, allowing its smoke to slip through each release. “am i allowed to mark you, bruise you… use my fingers to fuck you? can you be my little bitch, princess?”
“do everything to me ellie…”
her eyes dilated, feeling her stomach drop at hearing her name being called yet again. something about it, drove absolutely her mad and it only was because of your voice— so gentle and sweet, whining out for her, calling out to her. oh were you not the cutest little thing she’s ever seen. you was her meat, the body that will now feel the pain and pleasure of her love, slinging you around like a dumb little doll.
cocking an eyebrow, her face glared at you, as if she hated your guts which wasn’t the case. images popped in her head of many ways she can fuck you up, to turn this ‘innocent’ being into a sobbing mess. this was the opportunity she yearned for, and possibly you did to.
the contrast from her just staring at you to her hurriedly hanging the joint at her lips, sliding her hand into her pants pocket and grabbing you by the throat, turning you around and yanking you into her embrace. your back against her chest with the hand that was on your throat, now in her pocket, coming out with a shiny object in hand— it was a pocket knife, made of real silver, etched with thorns and roses at its wooden handle. she placed it in front of your face, hearing the loud sound as her thumb allowed its blade to show, “so much trust in me… you could be in danger you know.” her joint dangling as she spoke, smoke puffing at almost each word while her body pushes closer into yours.
“i could really hurt you, you know?” her voice dark, demented and laced with a smile, the tip of the blade now at your neck, pressing it into your skin, just enough to feel it’s point but not go through the first layer of your skin. “…but look at you, such a dumb… pretty little girl, wanting me to fuck you, like you’re worth nothing but the dirt underneath my shoes.” it came clear, by the sound of her voice that it was full of hunger, the deep breaths in between her words, the groan that vibrated in her throat, her hips, grinding against your backside.
she dragged the knife down, gasping at the indention of your skin from the blade, wondering how you’d react if a bead of blood were to splash on the silver blade and run down your neck, as if a beast bit you. she knew how much you idolized her and she took advantage of that.
abruptly, she let the side of her blade rest at the bottom of your jaw, making you lift your head a little higher, maybe as a reflex or a safety mechanism— either way it didn’t matter. taking the joint from her lips and cooing in your ear, making your body sway left and right, hearing the awkwardly loud shift in clothes rubbing against each other.
“you’re mine.”
you breathed heavily, not knowing that ellie had this side to her. maybe you’ve always seen it. the way she fucked you in the past was some reflection towards it. she had this glimmer of danger that rose your orgasm to serendipity.
“say it.” she whispered, her nose dragging along your cheek, sighing out a moan. “say. it…”
“im yours…” you exhaled.
“no… no no no… louder. say it… say it louder.” her words breathless, letting open mouthed kisses to gently press onto your skin.
“im yours ellie!”
she wanted your underwear off, loving how quick you were to obey. she decided to help you a little by quickly using her knife and angling it with its cloth, slicing its side and letting the loud sound of her blade fill the quiet room, exposing your cunt, having her blade rest yet again at your neck.
“mmh… what a good girl.” laughing sinisterly. she began to draw lightly with the blade with some pressure on the flesh of your neck, before she pushed the tip a little harder into your skin, seeing a pretty bubble of ruby crimson form. she tended to it quick, seeing the blood run so prettily down your soft skin as she latched her lips onto it, sucking sloppily. you tasted so sweet, just as she imagined. pulling back she had slight remnants of your blood against her lips, with the slow run of the blood form at the small pierce at your neck.
“why must every part of you taste so good? do you know why, princess…? answer me… you know i love your voice… i could… i could just cum hearing it.” her face still close to your neck, spreading her tongue onto the wound again and letting it drag up your skin to your cheek, mixing your blood and her spit. “don’t worry, ill fuck you fairly quickly, i just like to play with my treasures, that’s all.”
you didn’t know if it was the nerves or the fact that she had full advantage of your body but something made you close your eyes shut and prepare yourself for what was about to happen. you were ashamed to admit how excited you were and how you’d let her do anything she wanted even if she were to hurt you more than she already did. ellie intimidated you. you felt as if you made one wrong move, she’d ruin you and you were willing. arousal and fear is what coursed through your body and you craved more. you’ve never felt so alive, the adrenaline puddling all throughout.
her taunting words went straight to your head went your clit. you were in pure bliss. you kept backing your hips against her crotch loving how she rutted against your ass. you felt like a needy whore and it made your gut bubble with embarrassment.
letting go of your body, she witnessed how weak you were as you fell down onto the bed. the steps of her shoes colliding with the floor as she walked around the perimeter of the bed, inhaling her loved smoke, watching you, grinding into the bed’s comforter like an art piece in a gallery. she laughed, a playful type giggle that made her throw her head back and bend at the knees until she met with your face, “oh baby… look at you… i barely touched you and you already look… like… this.” pointing at you with the knife, twirling it by it’s handle.
“i dont… it’s cause… youre… you’re…”
“awe baby… you’re stuttering… ellie doesn’t understand you, speak up. i know how loud you can get… come on pretty, speak up for me. use those lips like you use them to suck on my clit…”
leveling at eye contact, she inhaled and blew the hazing smoke at your face, extending her tongue and pressing its burning end against it, hearing it sizzle out. flicking it somewhere in the room. she still held her tongue out, showing the left over ash on it before swallowing. gripping your head, she yanked it from where it lay, your lips already ajar, abruptly spitting her marijuana taste into your mouth. “you look pretty disgusting.” the last word coming out as a snarl.
“isn’t this room so pretty…” her eyes scanning around listening to your whimpers, “maybe we should paint it red?” broadcasting the same knife that she used her before. “lay on your back.” you listened.
with her now in front of your knees, without a thought she pressed the blade against your thigh, letting its tip prod at your skin, running it down but not too deep, she always remembered that. blood started to pour from its light mark and she immediately started to kiss it, her lips coating themselves with a more pigmented color. she sucked as if he was hungry, savoring the sweet and metallic taste of your blood. using her other hand, spreading your legs further apart and seeing your wet slick expand and bubble.
the blade now barely glazing your skin, fell at your crotch, pressing it against your clit as she drew it up and down, your eyes withering at how cold the blade had been. “do you see that?” she laughed, seeing how your slick started to coat the silver.
she pressed a kiss from the mark of your all the way up onto your pubic bone as she stared at you with amusement, taking the knife away and setting it down beside you on the bed. your body twitched and turned, the tingling sting from your neck and thigh throbbing and wrapping it’s pain in a form of pleasure.
“what fun would it be, if i were the only one to taste?” she crawled on top of you, hand first pressing onto the seeping blood at your thigh, letting it slide against you. her fingers lightly covered, pressing the pads of them to your lips in which you wrapped your mouth around. it was gentle, sucking them in a bobbing motion as you took in your own taste— one that ellie fell drunk for. she couldn’t help herself, the view of you was too much, she let her lips press against yours in an opened mouth kiss, her tongue prodding it’s way into your mouth— she moved her lips slowly, humming a sweet hum into your throat. she never wasted a second to devour you within a kiss, using her time to play and tease you.
pulling back she saw the strings of spit connect both of your swollen lips, admiring at the fact that you didn’t interject her ways. you’re so pretty, she admired you, patting your face with loving stroke before slapping your cheek without a say, her moans mixing in with your shock. “oh god i love the way you react to me.”
she loved to see how you took her infliction— the facial expression, the sounds, any source of feedback, she’d take and cherish. with the way that your body talked to her, it showed how weak you allowed to portray yourself. your body spread and sunken into the puffed comforter. the sound of her breathing, in need of air but too focused on the richness of the blood and spit that smeared on your lips. her tongue tasting sweet with its intoxicating spit, sucking viscously on the flesh of your bottom lip, pulling it back.
“you’re insane…” your words wore heavy on her ears, unable to hide the smile that formed on her lips. the sound so small, weakened but clear. you was turned on and your slick seeped out from your cavern. you gave the same look with those bright doe eyes just like the first time ellie sucked your pussy. those pretty eyes stared and pierced her right in her chest. with your ability to take the pain that you were receiving, continuing to let her destroy you, that gave her the feeling of pure delight, fueling her egotistical mindset that settled itself with anger, desire and eroticism. her body burned, like the room had set itself on fire and it’s flame feathering against her skin— your body heat and hers combining into one making beads of sweat litter her forehead.
“oh… i know.” admitted that at times she indeed was. ellie was one to fall deep when it came to pleasuring activities, and most of the time it’s focused in a conjoined thing, other times only purely for your enjoyment— wanting you to concave into her submission, believe her stalkerish ways was natural and that whatever she did was right, not wrong.
the use of her knife and how deep she let it cut, she knew that the scar would stay longer than it should. the bite on your neck will bruise with a pretty mixture of deep shades red while your body would paint itself with delicate darkened browns from the force of her hands grabbing and slapping. you were now her canvas— an artist starved for her creation, her light, her venus.
the dark haired woman lifted herself up, her body now situated between your spread legs as she took a good look at the figure that lay before her.
fear. want. dread. attraction. panic. admiration.
oh yes, this is she wanted, this is what she wanted to see. “my pretty girl, my stupid little bitch.” her voice playful like a drunken woman full of giggled joy. taking off her shirt, she exposed her top half, her hardened nipples poking from her small breasts. she started to take off both her jeans and boxers which then showed her full body. her wet slick dripping slowly from her, dribbling down her leg, as her clit twitched.
“are you ready for me, angel? do you want my pussy against you?” she asked. you nodded. “i want to make your pussy so sloppy… feel it squirt… or maybe even cream against my clit. i want to hear it baby, will you let me? hmm…? is this pussy mine? is this pretty cunt mine?”
you could see the hair sticking to her forehead and the sides of her neck, the tips of her fingers rubbing up in between your folds. you gasped, hands holding onto the sheets, lifting your head as you looked at the way the veins bulged prettily at her hand and forearm.
“my pussy is yours…”
“that’s a good girl..” her slapping your pussy, purposefully aiming for her clit, the sting rummaging through your body. “im going to fill you up and make you so full of cum it’ll make you go brain dead.”
the beat of her heart, pounding against her chest and her fingers twitched against your cunt, gathering spit and letting its liquid fall down on it. the amount of eagerness ellie had was considerably concerning. at any given moment, she would probably pass out from the adrenaline— like her insides were overworking themselves, and that was proof it wasn’t going to die out any time soon.
she slapped it again, her spit splattering. “oh baby… look at how cute your pussy is when i slap it… how it moves.” in awe at how it jiggled cutely, slapping again and again, watching your wet cunt shake. “my pretty pussy… look at it…fu…ck…” her voice staggering as he pulled up your clit head with her thumb and letting strings of spit fall down onto it, mixing itself with your juices.
her unoccupied fingertips pressed themselves in her thighs, sliding them down just enough for a little of his nail to scrape against the blood coated flesh. the hand placed at your cunt found it’s way into your opening, starting with one, then a second. her wrist tightened as she thrusted up into you, your back arching at the pace she went. your pussy squelched, it’s sound loud and disgusting. the sounds of your moans bounced against the bedroom walls, feeling her fingers being gripped each time she’d thrust them outwards.
“come on baby… feel me.” she grunted.
she didn’t stop, she couldn’t stop. her knuckles deep, her fingers curled, hungry in the bliss that she shared. the quickening of your orgasm greeted you with intensity, your toes curling as your stomach hallowed at every moan. “it feels so good… it feels so good… it feels so fucking good.”
the tips of her curling fingers rutting at your good spot, your body tensing at how she abused your pussy so good, a warm wash fell at the start of your insides then all over your body as you squeezed yourself against her fingers, a splash of your squirt pooling and falling every time her fingers fell outward, “squirt on my fucking fingers baby, that’s a good fucking girl.” it fell everywhere, staining the bed with a light white ring wrapping around her knuckles.
slipping her fingers out, she quickly placed them in her mouth, sucking the leftover cum you gifted her as your body shook from its orgasm.
she didn’t wait, she didn’t care to. her bottom half hovered yours, a leg wrapping above your thigh as she angled her cunt on top of your sloppy one. whirling her hips around, she felt the flowery skin of your labia and clit kiss hers, a loud guttural moan escaping her mouth.
her hips moved, grinding against your cunt with conviction as your body jerked with each movement. you loved this, how nasty you felt at all the liquids that had been mixed all over your skin.
she grabbed the knife that lay lonesome on the bed, grabbing your shirt as she let it pierce through, gripping it and tearing it apart just to see your breasts that she loved so much. the point of the blade cascading lightly over your nipples and stomach, loving it’s gleam that reflected off your skin. she angled it at your lips, brushing it as you moaned against it, “lick it.”
carefully, you ran your tongue along it’s side, sliding in your mouth and letting it reappear as you pulled back. ellie groaned, a monstrous one that made her feel like her insanity was one with yours. you did it without question. the danger of her hips fucking up into yours, taking her knife as if it had been her fingers, cleaning the small dried blood that rested at its point.
“goddamn.” ellie breathed, moving herself to now her face and body was angled just above you, your legs spread and her lower half squatting. her thrusts rippled, the flesh of your clit and the poke of your bud colliding with hers as the knife now aimed at the underside of your neck. “fuck im gonna cum, let me fill your pussy baby… feel it… take it… fuck... fuck!” she announced, the pit of her stomach fuzzed as she squeezed the pleasure from her lower half, a spray of her squirt gushing from where you both connected.
“oh fuck!” you cried, shaking at the overstimulation and the wetness of her squirt, the wet pounds of her cunt mixing in with the hungry moans you both let out.
it didn’t take long for another orgasm to form, her hand gripping your cheeks as she made you watch her speak in the form of her moans. your eyes rolled back, the sting of knife pressing slightly deeper as you lay limp, cumming once again. “good girl… good fucking girl, cum on my pussy… just like that.”
it last long, unable to grasp the fact that it felt so good. “i love cumming…” you cried pathetically, “i love how you make me cum…”
“good endure it…” her hips now slowing itself down. she set the knife beside you both, pressing her lips against your moaning one’s, “you’re mine. your body… it shows that now… look it all the marks ive given you..”
“im yours ellie… only yours.”
“good girl.”
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ddarker-dreams · 11 months
Text
Entanglement.
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Yan Kafka x F Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, unwanted kissing, mild not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.
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“You’re still refusing to wear the clothes I gifted you, dearest?” 
A dulcet voice smoother than the finest silk coos from behind. 
You don’t deviate from your original task. Just outside the window, the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space looms. A mere panel of specialized glass is the only barrier between you and infinite nothingness. The concept used to frighten you, to a paralyzing extent. It got to the point your oh-so-benevolent captor had to make adjustments. Using some technology you’re unacquainted with, the dark canvas morphed into a familiar, more palpable set piece: the scenery of your home planet. 
You’ve since overcome this hurdle and no longer require the mirage’s services. 
Space isn’t what you fear anymore. No, it’s the woman with the future in her eyes who holds that distinction. 
“It isn’t to my taste.” 
“I know,” she agrees. Her perfume is near stupefying when it invades your senses. “It's to mine.” 
Kafka is either aggravatingly unassuming or laser-sharp with her intentions. You’re never given time to adjust to her fickle ways, the second you think you might understand her, she reveals just enough that you’re right back where you started. 
Gloved fingers hover over your wrist, causing your hair to stand on end. As if she’s playing a glissando on the piano, her fingers slowly creep up, from your forearm to your bare shoulder. Presently, you’re wearing one of the few garments you were allowed to bring. It’s a plain, white dress that she longs to stain with her own palette. 
Her arms envelop your midsection from behind. She nuzzles her nose into your neck, swaying you back and forth while she hums a haunting ballad. Can she hear the skipping of your heart? Does she consider it just another instrument to compose her hedonistic harmonies? 
“Are the stars truly that interesting?” she murmurs against your skin. “Surely, they aren’t prettier than I am, hm?” 
“Maybe. At least they understand the concept of personal space.” 
“Oh, I do as well. I just choose to ignore it when it comes to you.” 
“I wish you wouldn’t.” 
You can feel her smile.
“You’d be lonely without me. Maddeningly so.” 
“Insanity is tempting if you’re the alternative.” 
She laughs, the sound low and husky, belying any offense taken, if you had the hubris to think anything you said could hurt her. Before you can register anything, she twirls you around. In this new, uncomfortable intimate position, you’re forced to look her in the eye. There’s no quality of hers that unsettles you more. They draw you in and devour you like a black hole, picking apart actions you haven’t even committed yet. 
It reminds you, similar to the path she walks, that nothing you do will ever amount to any meaningful change in your circumstances. 
Kafka settles her gloved pointer finger and thumb on your chin, tilting your head up. Whatever she’s thinking is as unknowable as the universe itself. Her fondness for you is an illness without a cure — even she must know how sick it is. Something tells you that if a remedy for it ever existed, she’d refuse to take it, and would instead crush the vial before your eyes. 
“What a beauty you are,” she praises through lidded eyes. “There is no greater joy than knowing you feel every second we’re apart, just as I do.” 
Irate, you try moving your head away, but this causes her grip to tighten. Never enough to hurt — it’s only meant to warn. 
“I take it you don’t like the cosmetics I brought back, either?” 
Kafka delights in asking questions she already knows the answers to. If she had anything resembling a hobby, you suppose that would be it. 
The skin beneath her eyes crinkled with amusement at your abrupt vow of silence. You fight off a shiver at the look. It’s all-consuming, dangerous in a way that rouses your primal instincts. She leans down close enough that you can feel her breath fan against your face. Her head tilts in a deliberate show of faux curiosity. 
“Is your tongue frozen? Should I think of a way to warm it up?” 
The hand that isn’t holding your head in place toys with the strap of your dress. 
Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. You know when to surrender in a losing game. 
“... No.” 
“No?” She repeats, mimicking the inflection of your voice. “Ah, well, that’s a shame.” 
You almost sigh in relief when her hand retreats. She reaches into a pocket on the inside of her coat and pulls out a tube of lipstick. She applies the roseate pigment, maintaining smoldering eye contact with you all the while.
After what feels like an eternity, she descends upon you, her lips seeking yours in a fit of scathing passion. You freeze up at the unexpected boldness. She takes advantage of your reverie, interlocking your lips in a languid motion. There’s no urgency to the kiss, she takes her time with you, just how she likes it. 
Her hand presses against your back, urging your chest to arch into hers. It isn’t until her hand starts venturing down that you return to your senses. In a fit of panic, you raise your hands to push her away. The defiance gets you nowhere — she catches your wrists with ease and holds them in place. 
Fortunately, she pulls back, although she doesn’t relinquish her grip. 
“I knew this color would look good on you,” Kafka sighs, almost wistful. Then, she raises your wrist and presses a lingering kiss against your pulse point. It leaves a smudged lipstick stain behind. “That leaves the issue of the outfit. Hm, what to do, what to do…” 
As if hit with an epiphany, her eyes light up in microscopic supernovas. “I know. If you need my help applying makeup, then why should getting dressed be any different? Why, you should’ve said so sooner.” 
Indignant, you seethe, “That isn’t…! Fine, I’ll put it on myself. Just— just turn around, okay?” 
“Of course. Anything for my sweet, shy girl.” 
Surprisingly, Kafka acquiesces. She pivots on her heel and covers her eyes with her hands. A teasing gesture, if you had to guess. 
Just when you believe you’re regained a semblance of control over the situation, she throws in a comment that snuffs out this fledgling hope. 
“I’ll give you to the count of a ten before I come and help you myself.” 
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graceofagodswrath · 11 months
Text
Menstrual Cycles and Aliens
“I apologize, but Williams is doing what?”
Kate sighed, brown eyes rolling at Ka’oolai’s stiff confusion. “Bleeding Niagara Falls out of her uterus. She’s gonna need a couple days.”
“Katy.” Jasmine hissed. “That is not how you explain this shit to people.”
Kate’s lips thinned in exasperation. “It makes them listen! God knows how many times I had to describe it so graphically to get all the men in my family to understand that you can’t just ‘suck it up!’”
The three sat in the dining lounge, a room on the transport ship meant for relaxation for workers on their breaks. Ka’looai, the ship’s second-in-command, had inquired about Pilot William’s ask for absence. Kate Blanche, the engineer and second roommate to De’maya, had answered in her usually blunt way. Luckily, The third roommate and Quartermaster of the ship, Jasmine Lativos, had been there to cushion Ka’looai’s immediate confusion.
Ka’looai held up their four hands to the two humans, insectoid limbs the notable deep, iridescent purple of their native race, Yamogai. They resembled a mix of a beetle and praying mantis, tall with hard, spiny exoskeletons. They displayed a variety of colors like humans (tho more vibrant), but the most common was purple.
“I apologize… I do not understand. Does Pilot Williams have an open wound? Do they need to go to the medibay?” Ka’looai’s voice sounded like the vibrating of beating wings, so they had to pronunciate other languages precisely in order to be understood. So they spoke slowly and with a deliberate concentration. This voice also gave way to an accent that made them pronounce certain letters like ‘v’s. There was a running joke with humans that Yamogai were related to Germans, as their accents were similar when speaking English.
Jasmine shook her head. “No. She’s experiencing a part of her menstrual cycle, the human female reproductive cycle.” Ka’looai cocked their head, so Jasmine continued. “Every month, we expel the inside lining of our uterus, the organ that develops a human fetus if the female is pregnant. If a female isn’t pregnant, our uterus removes the old lining of tissue and blood and gets rid of it from our body to create a new lining in case she does become pregnant. It’s the same muscle contractions as childbirth, though at a smaller fraction. This process can be extremely painful for some, if not most people, and De’maya is one of them. So she just needs some time off to deal with and recover from this experience.”
Ka’looai stared for a moment, mantis-like eyes seeming to stare through the humans souls. “I… see. I will inform the captain, then. Is there anything else we must know about this… event? I assume you two experience it as well as you said every human female does?”
Kate shrugged, long brown braid shifting in her shoulders. “Mine isn’t so bad usually. I’m one of the lucky ones. I get irritable and the occasional back pains, but I don’t need time off recuperate necessarily.”
“Irritable?”
Jasmine smiled, more of grimace for those experienced in reading human expressions. “Annoyed. Aggressive. The process increases the amount of estrogen and testosterone in our bodies, hormones that can heavily influence our emotional states. So we can be a bit…” Jasmine paused to think. “Intense.”
“Ah.” Ka’looai’s antennae twitched emphatically. “That is why I sensed the rise in strange pheromones. So this increase of chemicals affects you physically, emotionally, and mentally. I see why Pilot Williams asked for an absence then. Will the two of you require the same?”
Jasmine made an expression that Ka’looai could not understands. She bared her teeth while narrowing here eyes and scrunching her nose, dark skin wrinkling. Her hands rolled synchronously back and forth, a gesture the Yamogai recognized as a sign for uncertainty. “My cycle is more chaotic. Many factors can influence the way it is, and I tend to be influenced heavily by those.” She gestured at the other human. “Whereas Kate’s average is light and less painful, and De’maya’s average is heavy and extreme pain, mine can be either depending on my situation. If I’m stressed and haven’t taken care of myself, it’s usually pretty painful. If the opposite, I can usually function pain free. It depends.”
“What do you mean by light and heavy?”
“That refers to the amount of blood and tissue we expel. Light is very little, medium is a bit more, heavy means a lot. Some people have more lining than others. The heavier the flow can also increase the amount of pain.”
“Is this process different for every human?”
Both women nodded.
“And you still work through such obstacles?”
“Pretty much.” Jasmine confirmed.
“Interesting.” Ka’looai hummed, the sound vibrating the air rhythmically. “So human females expel a large amount of their own blood and tissue every month simply for not reproducing. And it is incredibly painful, yet some of you still function through it. No wonder females are in higher demand than males. You are a hardy species.” Their laugh sounded like the erratic buzzing of fly multiplied by ten. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Oh, there’s a shit ton if you wanna properly educate yourself on human reproduction.” Kate waved a scarred, oil darkened hand. “But Jaz gave you the basics. Hah, you may know and understand it better than the average human male.” Kate chuckled dryly and Jasmine huffed. “But that’s a debate hole that can be saved for another time.”
“If you want to learn more, read some human biology books, and we can answer any questions you have.” Said Jasmine. “Make sure they’re recent ones tho, the outdated ones are full of a lot of misinformation.”
“I see. I will do so. Human biology continues to fascinate. I have always found learning about other races to be rather intriguing, and humans never disappoint.”
“Yeup.” Kate leaned back and threw her arms behind her head. “Just don’t start making jokes about us leaving puddles and shit everywhere, or not being trusted behind the wheel.” Her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth in a not-friendly-smile. “I will commit some “transgressions,” if so.”
Ka’looai’s antennae twitched. “Understood.”
~~~~~~
I’m currently going through this month’s rounds, and felt like distracting myself. Finally had the motivation to write and of course it was during a shitty time of my life. Needed me some alien feels that understand my woes better than my own family. I know this prompt has been done a lot, but I wanted to give my own take on it.
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blues824 · 5 months
Text
I Love You, Malleus... But You're Not Mine...
Word Count: 9862 Female Reader Genre: Angst
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The dragon fae was torn.
He knew that he would have to be wed to someone soon in order to inherit the crown. 
Also… his grandmother was nagging him to marry someone because she was growing older and she wanted to see her only grandson be married.
The only issue was that no one in Briar Valley really managed to capture his eye nor his heart. They all wanted to be married to him either for his money or power, or to escape their families. 
Actually, some of them did not wish to be married to him and were in love with someone else entirely, and he granted them liberty to marry who they wished.
Malleus was torn. 
So, he went to do what he always did whenever he was torn.
He walked over the bridge and through the woods.
In the woods, he would talk to himself and to the trees and animals. The wintertime meant that there was also snow and ice upon the ground. When that happened, the moonlight would reflect off of the glittery surface of the snow. It offered peace to Malleus to see the view.
Well, now was a better time than any to practice his vows.
He took out the ring that he had in his coat pocket, turning it over and over with his fingers, contemplating.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.”
He lifted his hand, palm up, as though he were actually marrying someone beside him. He stepped forward three times as he said the line.
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”
There was no real cup, so he just summoned a chalice with his magic and a bottle of wine. He was above the age limit for consuming alcohol in public, so it was alright. He poured the aged liquid into the cup, and then took a sip from the cup. Of course, his bride would then also sip from the cup right after. However, there is no bride as of right then.
“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness”.
He took a twig from a nearby tree and acted as though it were a candle. In the specific spot he was in, there was a tree stump that acted as the podium at an altar. On it was a small piece of bark that he used as the ‘flame’ with which he was to light the candle. 
Then, he set the twig down.
“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”
In retrospect, the prince was asking himself why he didn’t ponder the curiously skeletal shape of the branch he placed the ring upon. However, it didn't matter, as the wind started whirling around him. Leaves started making a small-scale tornado around the branch on which he placed the ring… until a woman stood in the center.
She was as radiant as she was dead.
Her skin, or rather, where it existed upon her body, was smooth. One of her hands had no skin on it at all and was all bone. In the bodice of her wedding dress, he could see her ribcage. She was wearing a veil over her head, attached to a crown of flowers arranged in a multitude of different shades of blue. Peaking out of the tulip-cut skirt of her wedding dress was her skeletal leg. She was wearing white heels. In her hands, she held a bouquet of blue flowers, similar to her crown.
Understandably, Malleus was entranced but kind of frightened by the corpse he was seeing before him. His flight or fight response had not kicked in yet, not until he heard her whisper two words:
“I do.”
She then reached out towards him and started walking to him. The dragon prince, who had gone even paler than he already was, stayed still.
As she got closer and closer, he saw how the moonlight enhanced your figures, and he felt his heart beating faster. The woman leaned in, to the point where her nose was grazing against his.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Then everything went black.
~~~~~~~~
It took him a while to wake back up, and when he did he was in for it.
“Oh, look! He must have fainted. Are you alright?,” he heard the woman ask as he started to open his eyes.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a breather!” A skeleton man said.
“He’s still soft!” A skeleton boy exclaimed while jabbing at the prince’s torso with a stick. Malleus backed up into the bar, unsettled by what was going on around him.
Two skeletons dressed as soldiers clinked their beer steins toasting to the “newlyweds”.
“Newlyweds?” Malleus was quite confused as to what they were talking about. He stood up, trying to take in his surroundings.
“In the woods, you said your vows so perfectly,” she had a dream-like tone in your voice as she showed him the ring he had placed on your bony hand.
“I did, didn’t I?” Further leaning against the bar, he rubs his temples as though he were trying to remember something. Then he heard little legs crawling on the bar itself. 
He turned to see a walking head along with a few cockroaches. His eyes widened in silence as he backed away from the bar.
“Hello, my name is Paul! I am the head waiter, hehehe,”... the head was speaking. “I will be creating your wedding feast!”
All of a sudden, Malleus felt something hit the shoulder she was standing next to. When he turned to see what it was, a maggot was peeking out of her eye…’s socket. Her eye was, in fact, now on the floor.
“Wedding feast?! I am salivating,” the maggot said.
She gasped as she covered your eye socket, clearly embarrassed that it happened. She tried laughing it off, but it was a bit too late.
Now, to be fair, he recognized that he must be in a land of the dead. After all, there were skeletons all around, and his supposed bride was a decaying corpse. However, that did not leave him at peace. He was actually more disturbed when he came to that realization.
He squeezed out from between her and another skeleton and started creeping back in the other direction. He eventually reached the soldier skeletons, and that’s when he saw that one of them was impaled with a sword. He unsheathed it and turned on everyone.
“I need some answers before we proceed with anything. What’s going on here? Where am I? Who are you?”
She stepped forward and started fidgeting with her hands before saying, “It’s kind of a long story.”
“What a story it is…” a voice from the shadows on the stage emerged. “A tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul.”
“This is gonna be good.” The skeleton who was formerly impaled by the sword Malleus was holding right now spoke, gently taking back the sword.
“Hit it, boys.”
~~~~~~~~
One catchy but macabre musical number later, Malleus understands where he is. A few of the people down here were people he recognized. Old fae folks and humans alike rejoiced with each other, and it was beautiful to see. There was no judgment between the two species, which means a lot of them died prior to the war.
Well, they were dead. There would be no point in harboring resentment towards each other if you’re stuck with each other forever anyway.
Anyways, her story made him angry. How dare that man turn her down?! She was beautiful and kind, and all she wished for was to be a bride. Even though it had only been a day, Malleus found himself drawn to her. In fact, right at this moment, they were walking arm-in-arm to the cliff to gaze over the town.
The sight was beautiful. The moonlight made its appearance again, and the dragon prince breathed in the night air.
“Isn’t it beautiful? It takes my breath away…” The woman let go of his arm and twirled, her veil trailing after her.
“...Well, it would if I had any,” She giggled before sitting down on a bench, patting the seat next to her. He, with gentle steps, made his way and sat down next to her. “Isn’t it romantic?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to have your name. After all, I do believe a groom should have the name of his bride,” Malleus stated after a moment of silence.
Well, that’s a great way to start a marriage.
“Shh… Shut up!” The woman hit her temples before smiling at him. “It’s Y/N.”
“My name is Malleus Draconia, prince and crowned heir of the Briar Valley.” Her eyes widened in shock at his response.
“Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you!” She pulled out a box and placed it in his lap with care, taking the required measures so as to not startle him. Not to worry, as he was quite excited about receiving a gift from his… wife? She then whispered something, “It’s a wedding present”.
He lifted the neatly wrapped box up to his ear and shook it gently, seemingly trying to find out what could be inside. The corpse beside him let out a small gasp of shock before recovering with a smile.
Once he unwrapped the bow and opened the box, he saw a bunch of bones… including a skull. Malleus immediately recognized it to be a stray dog that he found in his youth. Growing up isolated meant that he hadn’t many friends, so when a dog made its way to him in the forest, who was he to turn it down?
The lid clasped itself back onto the box out of nowhere and started rumbling in the prince’s lap before falling to the ground. Then it went still before the lid burst open and out jumped a skeletal dog, barking and everything.
“Samson?” Malleus asked, wondering if the dog could hear him. The cadaverous canine jumped into his friend’s lap, excited to be reunited. “Samson! My dog, Samson!”
“I knew you’d be happy to see him.” The woman beside him exclaimed. The prince had nearly forgotten about her presence.
“Who’s my good boy? Sit. Sit, Samson, sit!” At his owner’s command, the dog sat down. 
“Good boy, Samson. Roll over. Roll over!!!” Now, the way that the dog did it was quite unusual. His head remained upright as the rest of the body rolled over.
“Play dead.” The dog let out a whine when Malleus realized his mistake. Both recovered, and Samson jumped into his wife’s lap instead.
“Awww, what a cutie!” She exclaimed.
After a few seconds of quiet between the newlyweds, save for Samson’s panting, Malleus spoke.
“My grandmother did not approve of me keeping a stray. Nor did Lilia,” Malleus trailed off, remembering from his childhood that he hadn’t any friends apart from the staff who were forced to play with him.
“Would she have approved of me?” His bride asked.
“I would very much like to think so, but I wouldn’t know… What if we were to go meet her?” He proposed.
“That sounds wonderful! Where is she buried?” She asked with enthusiasm and excitement in her tone. It pained him to be the bearer of bad news.
“I am afraid that they are still with life, my dearest,” He lowered his head, a bit embarrassed and thus focusing on Samson.
“Hmm… that is a problem…” The corpse bride brought her hand to her chin in thought, wondering how they could get to the Land of the Living.
Then, Samson started barking at you. 
“No, we couldn’t possibly,” Luckily, Malleus was well-versed when it came to speaking with animals, but he did not know who ‘Elder Gutknecht’ was.
“Well, if you put it like that…” She was responding to the dog, as though she was having a full conversation with him.
“Who is ‘Elder Gutknecht’?”
“He is the person everyone goes to when they have matters concerning the living realm. Now come, dear husband,” the woman held her hand out, and the prince took it, and the pair made their way to the Elder’s room.
~~~~~~~~
“Elder Gutknecht? Are you there?”
If I’m being honest, Malleus has no idea who you both are looking for. Samson is trailing behind the two of you, the three of you moving with grace up the stairs. One thing he noticed was that there were books and candles everywhere. He made sure that he didn’t trip over anything nor make anything fall.
“Is anyone home? Hello?”
Unfortunately, Samson did not take those same precautions and made a pile of books fall over, startling what seemed to be a full murder of crows. The lantern that lit up the place started swaying from the force of wind from the birds’ wings. Then, a hand reached up to steady the lantern.
An old skeleton, coughing, a whisper of a beard on his chin, and half of the top of his skull lifting, made his appearance.
“There you are!” Y/N exclaimed.
Placing his glasses on, the presumed Elder Gutknecht spoke, “Huh? Oh, my dear. There you are.”
“I’ve brought my husband, Prince Malleus Draconia.”
“What’s that? Husband?” The Elder scratched his skull, making the lifting plate lift even more.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Malleus called out, not sure if the skeleton could hear him.
“I believe the pleasure would be mine, Your Highness. After all, it’s not everyday that you find yourself in the presence of living royalty… especially if you’re dead.”
“Anyways,” Y/N butted in, “We need to go up. Upstairs? To visit the Land of the Living.”
“Land of the Living? Oh, my dear,” The skeleton had a disappointed tone in his voice as he started making his way down the stairs that led up to his podium.
“Please, Elder Gutknecht.” The woman clasped her decaying hands together in hope.
“Now, why go up there, when people are dying to get down here?” The elder responded.
“Sir, I beg you to help. It would mean so much to my wife and I.’ A small gasp of shock made its way out of Y/N’s mouth. For so long… she wanted to hear herself be called a wife.
“I don’t know… It’s just not natural.”
“Please, Elder Gutknecht. Surely there must be something you can do?” Y/N took the old man’s hand in hers and looked into his eyes, pleading.
“Hmm… Let me see what I can do.” Elder Gutknecht patted the back of her hand. “Now, where did I put that book?” He then started looking everywhere; in the cabinet, in the drawer, and he started going through his piles and piles of books. That was, until he checked the bookshelf and found the book he was looking for. “There it is.”
On the way back up to his podium, he grabbed three bottles of things akin to potions as well as a chalice, as per Malleus’s guess. A crow was perched up there already, waiting for his master’s commands.
Elder Gutknecht started flipping through the pages of the book, muttering to himself, before he stopped at a certain page.
“I have it.” Y/N let out a gasp of excitement. “A haunting spell of sorts. Just the thing for these quick trips…”
Leaning to the side closer to her husband, Y/N whispered, “So glad you thought of this.”
“Me too, darling.”
The old man took two of the bottles and poured some of the liquid contents into the chalice before taking some ashes out of what the newly married couple realized was an urn and adding them into the concoction. Then, a feather from the crow was added in, and it dissolved immediately. A little cloud of red smoke popped out of the cup, making the skeletal man cough. He took the chalice in his hand, and it looked like he was going to splash it on the two below before he drank all of it.
“Now, then…” He let out a belch. “Where were we?”
“The haunting spell?”
“Ahhh…” He grasped the crow on his podium by the neck and squeezed its stomach, making an egg pop out. Malleus and Samson flinched while Y/N didn’t seem phased.
“Ah, here we have it. Ready? Just remember: When you want to come back, say ‘hopscotch’.”
Y/N giggled at the childishness of the word, asking, “Hopscotch?” with an amused tone.
“That’s it.” He cracked the egg on the podium, and out of the egg came a gas of some sort.
All of a sudden, the married couple found themselves under the moonlight once again.
~~~~~~~~
Back at the palace, everyone was worried. Some of the servants have been fainting from panic…
The prince had vanished.
Queen Maleficia is very close to sending out the entire military that Briar Valley has to go looking for her grandson. General Lilia is separating the soldiers into groups, and assigning those groups to different parts of the Valley. Sir Sebek and Sir Silver are paired together as leaders of two of those groups, going to make their way into the forest section.
It was very unlike Malleus to just vanish without a trace, so everyone figured that he was taken. It also must be someone stronger than him, as you wouldn’t be able to capture the 5th most powerful mage if you didn’t have magic.
The villagers have also joined the search efforts, but there were folktales spreading about the danse macabre. It was All Hallow’s Eve, and a tale passed down for generations was that Death would come up with the dead and dance. Maybe their prince had joined them?
That was what caused the frenzy to begin with. Everyone knew about that tale, and if Malleus had joined the celebration of the dead, then he wouldn’t be seen until the following year.
Lilia gave the order, and Sebek’s squad and Silver’s squad made their way over the bridge and into the woods to go find the dragon prince.
~~~~~~~~
Y/N took in the glow of the moonlight, tears coming to her eyes as she stared at the moon itself for a few moments.
“I spent so long in the darkness, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”
At that moment, a butterfly flew past her face, causing her to giggle at its purity and innocence. Malleus also had a grin as he followed the butterfly with his eyes. However, that is when he realized that the butterfly was just as blue as the flowers upon her crown.
Y/N inhaled deeply, before stepping forward and twirling about in the snow. The trail of her mother’s wedding dress as well as her veil almost floated so delicately and gracefully behind her.
“My lady, might you give me this first dance as my wife?” She stopped when she heard Malleus ask, and a tear fell down her cheek as she nodded. He held out his hand to her and she accepted it, being pulled into his chest.
The two of them would have to thank their dance instructors, Y/N from when she was alive, and Malleus from when he was a boy. Sure, the steps they were doing were rehearsed, but the connection that the two felt was real.
Suddenly, Y/N’s skeletal leg snapped, making her fall. Luckily, the bones were only disconnected at the joint, so she easily snapped it back into place.
“Are you alright?” The dragon prince was understandably alarmed, as his magic could do no good upon a dead person. After all, magic is alive itself.
“I am quite so. It happens quite often,” she giggled, a bit embarrassed. Malleus smiled before they continued their waltz in the snow for a few more moments. Then, they walked hand-in-hand over to where Malleus knew would be the road back.
That is when Malleus had an idea.
“What if you were to stay here and I could bring my grandmother to you? I believe everyone would erupt in a ruckus if they saw me walking with a mystery human woman.”
“Ah, that’s right. I was here before the conflict. That should be fine. I will wait right here.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
And so, with that being said, he set off into the forest, alone, on the path he had traversed many times before, to go bring his grandmother to meet his new wife.
~~~~~~~~
About 20 minutes into the journey, Malleus heard something close by.
“THE PRINCE IS HERE! WE FOUND HIM!” 
The said prince’s neck snapped toward the direction he heard the voice come from. He recognizes the lady’s voice. She was one of the people that his grandmother had set him up with for marriage, and she was one of the ladies who wanted him for his status.
He heard marching, and he saw his former retainers: Silver and Sebek. In seconds, he was face-to-face with them, the lady mentioned before clinging to his arm.
“Your highness, we have been searching for you for hours! Where have you been?” Silver asked, making sure that the surrounding forest was clear and that the lady was in no danger.
Sebek didn’t say anything. He was moved to tears upon the recovery of the prince, his personal hero, who he revered and worshiped.
“I was strolling through the woods, and I got lost.”
“Sire, with all due respect, I didn’t think it was possible you could get lost,” Silver found the prince’s response to be a bit suspicious, but didn’t think to question him further. After all, he had orders from Queen Maleficia herself to bring her grandson back.
“If you wouldn’t mind, Prince Malleus, we must be taking our leave now,” Sebek bowed down as he stated. He then told Silver that he could take him back while he escorted the lady back to her own manor.
However, as Silver began to lead the way, he noticed that he was not being followed. He looked back and saw that Malleus was looking in the direction from where he came. 
Perhaps he did dance with the macabre.
“Your highness?”
Malleus snapped out of his trance before going to follow the knight. This might be an easier way to speak with his grandmother, so he followed Silver. 
~~~~~~~~
This is the voice of your conscience… Listen to what I say:
I have a bad feeling about him. You know he is no…
An all too familiar voice made itself known to you, and you rolled your eyes. You reached up to your ear and hit the side of your head, making Maggot shoot out into the cold snow.
“Go chew someone else’s ear for a while. Malleus has gone to get his grandmother, just like he said,'' To say that you were annoyed would be a tiny bit of an understatement. However, you couldn’t help the feeling of loneliness once again drape an arm about your shoulder. You missed your husband already.
“If I hadn’t just been sitting in it, I would say that you had lost your mind!” 
“I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason… for taking so long.” You crossed your arms in your lap, letting the doubt get into your decaying mind. Maybe Maggot was right.
“Oh, I am sure that he does. Why don’t you go ask him?”
“Alright, I will.” With that, you stood up, and began to follow your husband’s footsteps, picking Maggot up as you went.
~~~~~~~~
Malleus should have expected this. 
His grandmother, Queen Maleficia, had overreacted upon being reunited with her grandson, and locked him away in his room, placing a magical barrier to prevent him from leaving. Not only that, but he had learned that if someone were to find him first, more specifically, the women that the Queen had lined up as his suitresses, they would get his hand in marriage.
One small issue with that: he was a taken man now, and he had no plans in betraying his wife. She was beautiful, a free-spirited person to boot. She knew music and understood the beauty of both human and fae-kind. He was starting to miss her, and while he tried to tell his grandmother, she was not hearing it.
“Oh, Malleus, darling~”
And there was that insufferable voice.
Lady Aerwynn, the lady who had ‘found’ him in the forest originally, was the one set to marry him. She came from a long line of fae nobility, a green flag in his grandmother’s eyes.
To be quite frank, Malleus found her insufferable. She was only looking to gain power and influence, not his love. That’s where he loved his undead bride. She loved him before she even knew his name or title.
“Yes, Lady Aerwynn?”
“Well, soon I am going to be Princess Draconia. But anyways, I was wondering which shade of white would look best with your suit? After all, I need to make a good impression on the people at our wedding!”
“Lady Aerwynn, I need to inform you of something. I already have a bride. I am happily married to someone. Our wedding would be unlawful. If you could go get my grandmother, I can explain everything and you could be free to marry anyone else.”
This seemed to make her upset. Tears started welling up in her eyes as she heard what her ‘fiance’ was saying to her. 
“It’s not true! You just don’t want to marry me! Well, I don’t care! We’re getting married, whether you like it or not!”
All of a sudden, the window burst open. A large draft of wind swept through the room, putting out the candles and the fire within the fireplace. Malleus turned to see his wife, his true wife, on the balcony, fixing her veil out of her face. He had never been so relieved to see her.
~~~~~~~~
“My darling, I just wanted to meet-” Once your veil was out of your face, you were able to see your husband with another woman in his arms. However, you quickly brushed it off as the wrong place at the wrong time.
However, the woman let out a gasp of shock at your appearance.
You reached over and grabbed Malleus’s arm to pull him towards you. You wrapped your arm in his, making sure that the strange living woman knew that he was yours.
“Darling? Who is this?” You asked.
“Who is she?” 
“I’m his wife.” You extended your hand with the wedding ring on it towards her, letting the moonlight reflect off of the glistening golden band.
“Malleus? What is the meaning of this? You’re not going to marry me because you’re married to a corpse?!” Lady Aerwynn was only getting angrier, as were you.
You felt betrayed. You snatched your arm from Malleus and stared menacingly at the woman.
“Hopscotch.” You snatched your husband’s arm before sinking back outside, a murder of crows flying in a circle around you two until you were back in Elder Gutknecht’s room.
~~~~~~~~
“You lied to me! Just to get back to that other woman!” You shoved Malleus away from you, again feeling betrayed. Emotions came punching you in the face, and you were first experiencing anger.
“You don’t understand, my love. She means nothing to me-”
“Oh, really? Am I preventing your marriage to her? Would you rather be married to her?” Tears were threatening to spill as you interrupted Malleus. “You’re married to me! She’s only the other woman!”
You turned around, not wanting to let him see you cry. 
Elder Gutknecht let out a cough before saying, “She’s got a point.”
Through sobs, you were lamenting the early and untimely death of your marriage. “And-And I thought… This was all going so well.” More tears fell. Your eye actually popped out of your skull from the pressure, rolling its way to the dragon prince’s boot.
He bent down and picked it up, giving it a brush against the lapel of his suit so as to clean it up a bit.
“Y/N, darling, you misunderstood everything. I-” He reached out his arm to give you your eye back, and you snatched it quickly.
“It’s my eye, isn’t it?” You popped it back into place.
“No! Your eyes are the most beautiful things I’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince Malleus Draconia.” “Don’t you see? My grandmother is attempting to wed me with Lady Aerwynn!”
“You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you.”
“Can’t you see it was a mistake? You were never supp-”
You drowned out the last of the sentence. He thought your marriage to be a mistake. Maybe it was. Maybe Maggot was right, and you were in the wrong. All you wanted was to be a bride, as that dream had been stolen from you before.
Oh, yes. You were to be married to a wealthy fae that you loved so dearly about a century ago. You were one of the human nobility families, but the Wikora family was of lower standing at the time compared to yours. Your parents had forbidden the union for that very reason. Lord Piersym Wikora, to be precise, was the one you were to be married to. He was a mysterious stranger to you, having traveled about to many locations outside of the Briar Valley.
He stole your heartbeat, both literally and figuratively.
You walked off, the memories flooding back as well as the tears. It was time to give up on having a happy marriage, as you figured that matrimony between a dead human and an alive fae could never be compatible.
If only you had heard what he had said.
You were never supposed to see us like that. She wants to ruin my happiness for her own gain.
~~~~~~~~
In a desolate corner in the Land of the Dead, you could be seen sulking. Your veil was hanging upon a random stick of metal sticking out of the ground. You were sitting upon a broken coffin, a bench, if you will. 
“Roses for eternal love.”
You reached into your bouquet and snatched a rose head out, letting it drop to the ground in a messy fashion.
“Lilies for sweetness.”
As with the rose, you grabbed a lily and let it drop to the ground.
Upon seeing the third type of flower, you breathed in shakily before whispering the name.
“Baby’s breath.”
You tossed the bouquet away from you, feeling lost on what you were going to do now that your marriage was in shambles. Samson was with you, whining that his two owners were separated.
“Why so blue?” You looked over to see the Widow, someone who you looked up to as a motherly figure. Her six hind legs were lifted up in the air while her other two legs were acting as arms.
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it was a mistake.”
Maybe he should have his head examined.
You reached into your ear and pulled out Maggot, holding his tail between your pointer finger and thumb.
“I could do it!” Maggot exclaimed.
“Or maybe he does belong with her, Little Miss Living, with her rosy cheeks and beating heart. Plus, she’s a fae. I’m human.”
A heart can break once it’s done beating, you guess.
~~~~~~~~
“It’s true, Your Majesty! Malleus is married to a dead woman!” Lady Aerwynn looked the worse for wear. Her blonde hair was out of place as well as her dress. She looked a mess, and quite like a delusional patient. “I saw her. A corpse! Standing right here with Malleus.”
“I beg your pardon? My grandson… married to a corpse? Are you sure you don’t have a fever, dear?” Queen Maleficia lifted her hand to the girl’s forehead, checking for any unusual warmth.
Yes, she knew of the danse macabre story. However, she did not believe in it. And she refused to believe that her grandson indulged in frivolous tales and thus ran away… especially since he was an adult in fae terms.
“Come here and let me fetch you a blanket. You seem to be a bit feverish, dear.” Maleficia had a servant fetch a wool blanket as she assigned another servant to make sure that Lady Aerwynn didn’t go outside and worry the citizens even more.
Her Royal Majesty tried using her magic to see if she could locate Malleus through sensory magic, but she came up with nothing. He was not even in Briar Valley, but he couldn’t have made it to another land in that short amount of time, especially since she put that spell on his room. So, she started considering the possibility of the danse macabre.
~~~~~~~~
Malleus had been wandering about for a while in search of Y/N. He wished to hear her voice once again, as he felt his heart aching for her.
Sure, it was only during the night that he had gotten to know her, but his draconic instincts were telling him that she was his beloved, the person he was destined to be with for all of eternity, and not even death could part them.
He turned the corner to a street he had walked on before, following Samson who had your bouquet in his mouth. It was the bar where this entire journey started. Where he got to know what had happened to you.
Upon opening the door, he heard the piano playing. It was finely tuned despite being so old. You were sitting at the bench, both your decaying and skeletal hands dancing on the keys. Malleus walked up quietly, placing the bouquet that Samson had given him onto the top of the coffin-style piano.
“I’m sorry, my love. I just wanted you to know that I have no wish to be with her. I am happy with you, not with her. She wants to ruin our happiness to gain power for herself.”
You said nothing, and you continued playing. You were at the lower end of the piano, playing the deeper notes. Malleus joined you on the bench, turning his body towards the higher notes.
His years of learning the piano would come in handy.
To compliment the melody you were playing, he decided to add a more lighthearted spirit by playing a few notes.
That backfired, as you glanced at him with a look of disdain. You turned back to continue playing, but Malleus responded with the higher-pitched notes again.
You watched with an annoyed look on your face, before finishing off the melody.
However, Malleus started another one. He looked at you as he paused for a few seconds, inviting you to join him. And so you did.
Much like the dance you both shared in the moonlight, you were also in-sync with your piano playing. It turned into an expression of the both of you, lighter notes symbolizing life and deeper notes symbolizing death. The song was a motif for the joining of both life and death.
But, you got carried away, and your skeletal hand broke off and continued playing despite the rest of you as well as the entirety of Malleus stopping. You let out a gasp of shock as your hand started dancing about on the keys by itself, running up Malleus’s arm.
Giggles emitted from the both of you, much like children. The dragon fae took your detached hand in his before handing it over.
“Pardon my enthusiasm.”
“I like your enthusiasm.”
You both leaned in a bit as he reattached your hand to your arm. You looked up and into each other’s eyes before-
“NEW ARRIVAL” The bell started sounding, startling you both.
“Lights up!” 
Everyone started flooding into the bar. Paul and his cockroaches started pouring drinks.
“Hurry up, boys. Vite, Vite! Bonjour! Bienvenue! Drinks for everyone! Another pint, sir?”
“Oh no, just a half.” The man who ordered completely split in half.
Paul whistled at his roaches, having them bring the beer stein over, which ended up knocking him over.
“It is impossible to get good help anymore!”
Ms. Plum started making her way through the crowd of people.
“Welcoming committee, coming through! Coming through! My name’s Plum. Miss Plum.”
Malleus turned to see who had exactly died, and he recognized the man. He was one of the servants tasked with caring for him when he was a youngling. He had always been on the weaker side, having a horrible cough. He was one of the few human servants still remaining in the castle.
His name was Mr. Nimbus, or Nimbus Redrose. He just grew up calling him Mr. Nimbus because of the stories he would tell.
“Mr. Nimbus? Is that you? It’s wonderful to see you again!”
“Your Highness? Why, everyone’s been worried sick! Well, not me anymore!” The man let out a loud laugh before patting the prince on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry about me, though. It was about time I passed.”
“Hurry up, boys! Can you not see the gentleman is parched?!” Paul addressed his cockroaches, exasperated at the slow rate of his staff.
“How is Lady Aerwynn?”
“She was purely hysterical from what I could tell. Her Royal Majesty is concerned for her, but she’s more worried about you.”
“Yes, I do feel horrible that I had taken leave without informing anyone of my whereabouts, but my night has gone better than it ever could have. She was truly insufferable.”
A random drunkard of a skeleton threw his arm around Nimbus, stumbling and slurring about, and he said, “Women; you can’t live with them… You can’t live with-” Then he fell down.
“Well, I guess it’s time for you to pick up the pieces and help them to move on.”
“Speaking of picking up the pieces…” The skeleton from before was on the floor in just a heap of bones, making Malleus amused. He would use his magic, but it didn’t work on the dead. So the poor, drunk skeleton was just left there to sober up.
However, your husband had more concerning matters on his mind. He needed to somehow inform his grandmother that he wished to stay in the Land of the Dead with you. With that, he walked off to start contemplating methods.
“Malleus? Where are you going?”
~~~~~~~~
Queen Maleficia rested her forehead in her hand as she sat upon her throne. This whole day had not gone according to plan. 
She was feeling horrible for trying to force her grandson into a marriage that he did not want. However, she wanted to at least give him a push to marry his true love before Lady Aerwynn.
The Wikora family was indeed powerful, as their family came from sprites and faeries directly. Aerwynn Wikora, the daughter’s name, was a faerie herself. She had a way with music that Maleficia found light and airy… much different to the Draconias. However, despite that being her style, her entire family was corrupt. They wanted more power, and they were second only to the Draconia family.
It had frustrated the Wikoras that it had become a trend for the Draconias to pick up human lovers and marry them despite them being taken by death so early. However, as we all know, a dragon must be with their true love in order to truly be happy.
Every so often, a maid would come into the throneroom and update her on Lady Aerwynn’s state. She seemed to be getting a tad better, which was a relief. However, her ramblings set an ounce of doubt in Maleficia’s mind. What if the story of the danse macabre was real? It could be the only explanation.
However, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have turned up in the forest in the first place.
~~~~~~~~
Malleus was walking around once again, as he tended to do when he was in deep thought.
You see, he knew that there was no way he could go back to the living world or else he would be barred from his beloved. But, the Briar Valley would need a king once his grandmother passed the crown onto him. He doesn’t know how well his subjects would take it upon hearing that their Queen is technically dead.
Then, he came across a door that he knew led to the kitchen. He peaked in to see you talking to the head chef, Ms. Plum.
“Oh, Ms. Plum. What am I to do? He just walked off without saying a word. Are all men like this?” You lamented. 
“Well, I’m afraid none of them are very bright. They get something stuck in their heads…” Mrs. Plum began her response before pulling a knife out of the head of her colleague and wiping it clean. Then she continued, “...and you can’t do a thing with them.”
Elder Gutknecht burst into the kitchen with a rather heavy book. It actually seemed to be more than his skeletal weight, and it made Malleus briefly concerned. It was flipped to a certain page, and Maggot resided on top of the page.
“My dear, we have to talk.” The Elder seemed burdened by something, which made the dragon prince worried.
“Let me tell her, please. Let me tell her!” Maggot seemed quite the opposite. Whatever misfortune had happened, he seemed to be fairly excited about it.
“What?” You seemed to have the same fear that was now residing in your husband.
“There is a complication with your marriage.” A gasp made its way out of you, and Malleus was pretty close, but he knew that this was not his moment to pop in yet.
“I don’t understand.”
“The vows are binding only until death do you part”
“What are you saying?” “Death… has already parted you.” Another sound of surprise emitted from you, and your hand flew to your mouth. You started to bite your nails in quick contemplation.
“I don’t think he would leave, but is there something you could do to make the vows binding?”
“There is one thing…”
“Oh, please, please, let me tell her!” Maggot interrupted. The suspense was drawing you and Malleus (who was still outside) towards the elderly man.
“...It requires the greatest sacrifice…”
“Go on, get to the good part~”
“What is it?”
“We have to kill him!”
A moment of silence fell on everyone. It was overwhelming for even the dragon prince to comprehend. 
Is he really willing to give up his life?
“What?”
“Prince Malleus would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the Land of the Living…
…and drink from the Wine of Ages.”
Elder Gutknecht pointed at the page his book was opened to, and it pictured a vial or bottle of something. Your hands clasped themselves over your mouth as you turned away. Your face held a look of disbelief and remorse.
“Poison…”
“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”
Dropping to the floor, you bowed your head.
“I could never ask him…” A lone tear traveled down your decayed cheek.
“You don’t have to, dearest.” Malleus made his presence known, entering the kitchen finally. He extended his hands to you as he said, “I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant spending eternity with you, Y/N.”
You looked up in surprise, originally hinted with a bit of mortification. However, upon hearing what he said, the mortification wiped itself away.
“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?” Elder Gutknecht looked at the prince, waiting for his response.
Continuing to look into your eyes as he helped you up, he said, “I do.”
~~~~~~~~
“Gather round. Gather round, everybody! My soon-to-be-official bride and I have decided to wed each other properly, so grab what you can and follow us. We’re moving upstairs for a proper celebration.” Malleus shouted as he held your hand atop the foundation of a statue.
“Upstairs? I didn’t know we had an upstairs!” A lady in the audience exclaimed. Everyone was now buzzing with excitement for the wedding. They rushed off to prepare both the bride and groom.
“Ms. Widow? I was wondering if you could touch up my suit. I want to be looking the best I can for Y/N.” Malleus explained, also beaming with excitement.
“Why, of course!” She let out a loud whistle, and a few different spiders appeared. The feeling of them walking all over was a bit ticklish, but the dragon prince remained as still as he could.
Then, a hush fell over everyone.
The women started singing in a rather calming tone, announcing that the bride was there.
You walked down the stairs, bouquet in hand and your dress trailing behind you. Once again, Malleus had his breath taken away at your beauty. Some of the widows dropped down with your veil, placing it lightly upon your head.
The men joined in the singing as you twirled about.
Maggot was in tears, blowing his nose in a smaller-scale handkerchief. He just couldn’t believe that his dear friend was finally getting married. He was so proud.
Everyone made their way upstairs. There was a large cake following everyone as well that the chefs whipped up. It was extravagant to say the least, but so were the wedding festivities of Briar Valley.
~~~~~~~~
Queen Maleficia was torn.
She sat at the dinner table, accompanied by Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and the Wikora family. A simple soup was served for dinner, as no one could really stomach an extravagant meal. However, the Wikoras were not really appreciative of the dismal dinner.
Lady Aerwynn looked a tad better, some color having returned to her skin. She was not as feverish, but she was not touching her food. Her hair was brushed neatly, courtesy of the servants who were attending her.
That aside, the Queen was wondering how she was going to break the news to the Wikora family that Lady Aerwynn’s engagement to her grandson was invalid as per her orders. 
The entire room was silent, save for the flickering of the fire behind her in the fireplace and the scraping of spoons against the ceramic bowls. 
“Has there been any news about His Royal Highness?” Lord Piersym inquired. He was Lady Aerywynn’s older brother, and even more insufferable.
“I am afraid not. There are a few parties out in the woods searching for him.” Maleficia responded.
Then, the fire turned green. It cast an ominous emerald glow in the room, surprising everyone. They all stayed frozen still, only moving their eyes.
Creeping up behind the Wikoras were what Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Maleficia recognized as dead bodies and skeletons. The one behind Lord Piersym, their eye accidentally fell out of its socket and landed in his soup.
“There seems to be an eye in my soup,” he stated rather calmly.
That is when poor Lady Aerwynn ran to her wit’s end and started screaming. The knights were also considerably spooked at the happenings, but they came to the realization that their weapons were taken by the walking dead. They were left defenseless, basically.
Her Royal Majesty didn’t seem scared but rather on the defensive. This was living (?) proof that the danse macabre was real. That means her grandson would be back. All the living dead were headed a certain direction, she noticed, after spooking her guests and the knights. 
Lilia also seemed to notice that pattern and started leading her out of the castle and down the roads. A bunch of skeletons were climbing over the palace walls and into the village outside, so the two faes started making their way to a meadow, as that was where everyone was going.
All around them, couples who had lost each other because of death reunited, and it was beautiful. Typically, in Briar Valley, no one remarries once death has parted them from their first partner. Hence why Queen Maleficia has no king consort. So, to see that loved ones were able to see deceased loved ones again was truly magnificent.
After the reunions, they started heading towards the meadow where a wedding seemed to be set up. An altar of both dead and alive flowers (that symbolized death), as well as the typical wedding flowers (like roses, lilies, and baby’s breath, as mentioned before). The feeling of excitement was in the air, and Maleficia had never seen the village bustling with life like this before… pun intended.
Whispers made their way through the crowds of people, both dead and undead. From what Her Royal Majesty and Her Right-Hand Man gathered, His Royal Highness was repeating his wedding vows in the ‘Land of the Living’ to be with his true love.
…Lady Aerwynn was right. Malleus had, in fact, danced with the dead. Now he was going to join them alongside a dead woman he had only just met that night.
The severity of the situation was donning on both faes as they took their seats in front. More whispers of amazement at seeing the Queen as well as the (at their time of life) General as they sat down. 
The two let out a gasp as they saw Malleus teleport to the altar. His suit was a black coat with a green vest. A black button-up resided underneath along with a green tie about his neck. Black dress pants and shoes accompanied the rest of the outfit.
Gasps resounded from the rear of the venue and everyone turned to look. There you stood, your veil hiding your face. Because of its transparency, everyone could still see your face, albeit it was still slightly shrouded from view. You walked slowly down the aisle, as per tradition. There was no question about it: you were beautiful.
Maleficia could tell that you were once a gorgeous human woman. Actually, you seemed very familiar. That dress was one that she had seen before. 
You reached the altar and stood beside your about-to-be husband. At the podium stood a rather old skeleton with a rather large book and a bottle of what was presumed to be wine and an empty chalice. The officiant, the Queen guessed.
“Evening. Dearly beloved… and departed… we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage.”
Silence washed over the people attending the ceremony. It was like magic the way that everyone wanted to speak but no one dared utter a word. Malleus gently lifted your veil to reveal your face to everyone, and he swears that he is gazing into your eyes for the first time. The pure amount of love in his eyes could have made your heart begin to beat again.
“Living first.” The old skeleton pointed to Malleus, who turned towards you.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like he rehearsed, he raised his hand up and you accepted it, and he led you three steps forward. 
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He took the empty chalice and lifted it up.
“Now you.” The officiant pointed at you. You realized that you would finally be able to say these vows in however many years since you were set to marry.
“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like you had rehearsed many times before, you took a step towards Malleus.
“Your cup will never empty, for I will be…” You opened the bottle and took it into your hand and started pouring the liquid into the chalice that Malleus was holding. But, you paused.
Malleus looked at you expectantly, wanting you to finish the vow so that he may drink the Wine of Ages, wanting to join you eternally in death.
“...I will be…” You came to the realization upon stealing a glance at the crowd. They needed a king once Queen Maleficia gave away the crown. Not just that, but Malleus still had his entire life ahead of him. He was signing it away just for a woman he had only met that night.
“Go on, my dear.” The elderly skeleton prompted. You focused your gaze back on Malleus, who had a hopeful but fearful look in his eyes. However, you did not have that hopeful look in your eyes to match. Malleus realized that.
You take a deep breath in as you go again, “Your cup… will never empty… for I will be…” It’s as though something is prohibiting you from saying the vows in their entirety.
“...I will be your wine.” Malleus finished, going to drink from the chalice. However, before it reached his lips, you put your skeletal hand over it and brought it back down. The dragon prince looked at you in shock, but you looked down to avert his gaze.
“I can’t,” You looked back up at him, tears in your eyes. You were whispering so that no one else could hear you.
“What’s wrong? Speak to me, my love,” He whispered back.
“This is wrong… I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. And now… I’m taking someone else’s life for my own selfish dreams.” Malleus was about to say something, but you stopped him.
“I love you, Malleus. But you’re not mine to have.”
You both were fragile in this moment as everyone was staring in suspense as to what would happen next. However, someone started clapping in a very slow manner.
“Oh, how touching. I always cry at weddings.” The two of you could recognize that voice from anywhere, and that man started walking down the aisle towards you both.
It was Lord Piersym.
“Our young lovers… together at last. Surely now they can live happily ever after?” The antagonizing tone in his voice did not go unnoticed, and your was-to-be husband put his hand on the other side of your waist and pulled you into him, so as to not leave you vulnerable.
“But you forget… HE IS STILL MY SISTER’S HUSBAND BY ORDER OF THE QUEEN!!! THE WIKORA FAMILY WILL NOT LEAVE EMPTY-HANDED!!!” He screamed. Malleus was about to put an end to this by using his magic, but you stepped out of his grasp.
“You?” You asked. The dragon fae as well as the crowd watched as you walked to the edge of the plateau upon which the altar stood.
“Y/N?” Looks of recognition flashed on both Lord Piersym’s and your faces. 
“You.” Your face turned into one of disgust and hatred.
“But… But I left you!” The man turned as white as a ghost.
“...For dead.” Gasps emitted from everyone in the meadow. It seemed that even the animals that were still active went absolutely silent.
“This woman is obviously delusional! It would do you good to hold your tongue, you filthy human!” He pointed a sword at you, and while you were aware that you could not die twice, Malleus seemed to have forgotten about it. All he processed in his mind was that his mate was in danger. 
“You were set to marry me. You have no right to call me that,” you stated, diction quite clear and distinct.
“Touche, my dear.”
“Now, go away.”
“Oh, I’m leaving. But first! A toast!” He grabbed the chalice out of Malleus’s hand, lifting it in the air and turning towards the audience, who all had either surprised or angry faces, depending on if they were alive or dead.
“To Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” 
Malleus was about to shout and lose his mind over what he had just said to you, but you took a step closer to him and kept a vigilant eye on Lord Piersym. 
“Tell me, my dear…
Can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?” Venom laced within his voice, he, too, kept a vigilant eye on his surroundings. His words were enough to bring you to the verge of tears.
“Let me at him! Let me at him!” Maggot was furious. He wanted the death of the puny lord to be by his own ‘hands’ with how angry he was at that moment. However, Elder Gutknecht held him back with his finger, along with the rest of the crowd with his other arm.
“Wait! We are amongst the living! We must abide by their rules!” The Elder warned.
“Well said,” Lord Piersym said in response. He then lifted the chalice to his lips, as though to ‘cheers’ what he said. Then, he proceeded to drink all of the wine that was in the cup. He gave it back to Malleus and started making his way to the side and out of the venue.
“...Not anymore~” Maggot said. Well, he wasn’t wrong, as all of a sudden, Piersym Wikora doubled over, gasping for air. He could feel his magic drain from his body and be replaced with something else.
As I have mentioned before, dear reader… magic is alive. At least, the kind of magic that faes, trolls, and others have in the Land of the Living. The kind of magic that was being replaced in Piersym’s body was something unexplainable. It was like a dead magic. No, not dormant, and certainly not like a volcano. But a dead magic.
The lord looked up, and his skin was pale with a blue undertone to match. His heart had stopped. He was now a walking corpse.
“Yep. You’re right. He’s all yours,” With those words, Elder Gutknecht put his arms down and the dead in the crowd started making their way to the, now dead, lord. They dragged him back through the village, back to the Land of the Dead via the fountain in the center.
That left the living as well as you at the altar. The Moon was close to giving way to the Sun. You turned back to Malleus.
“Y/N, I made a promise to you when I proposed to you. I intend to fulfill that promise if you will have me.”
“No, Malleus. You have kept your promise. I loved dancing with you under the moonlight. You’ve set me free. Now I can do the same.”
Right then and there, butterflies started cutting their way out of the bottom of your dress and legs. It was as though you yourself were an image. You began to disappear as the butterflies flew away. 
However, Malleus was not ready to let you go without giving you a farewell gift. He gently pulled your… upper body… closer to him and placed a kiss on your cold lips. A tear escaped from his right eye. Then, you were gone.
~~~~~~~~
Maleficia didn’t know how to feel. However, there was one prominent emotion that made its way to the front of the line, and it was sympathy for her grandson. She stood up from her seat and made her way to Malleus, going to wipe away a tear and say something in encouragement.
“Grandmother, why does it hurt so much?”
“I am afraid, Malleus, that it is the one thing no potion or spell will be able to fix. You will have to recover on your own.”
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This took forever, and I was supposed to have it out on Halloween but that clearly did not happen lol.
Thank you for reading! Like, comment, reblog, share, whatever lol.
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darqx · 6 months
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Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..
Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0
Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)
(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)
--------------
❓What do you know about them?
First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:
What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?
Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??
📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.
---EXAMPLE---
Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.
---/EXAMPLE---
🤔 Make informed choices
Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)
*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.
📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.
---EXAMPLE---
In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:
Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.
Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.
Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.
Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.
Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️
Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.
*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.
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---/EXAMPLE---
🔐 Don't lock yourself in
Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.
---EXAMPLE--
I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.
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---/EXAMPLE---
🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.
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Text
Memories I
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, mention of injury, amnesia
Summary: You had your memory wiped after a messed-up mission. All that you remember is your childhood and fragmented glimpses of your teenage and adult years. Poor Simon, your would-be hubby, is left to pick up the pieces when you can't even recall his existence.
Words: 1.7k
A/N: I've had this story in the works for some time now, but only recently got around to finishing and publishing it. In that timeframe, I've seen some wonderful stories from other authors that share some similarities with mine. If you're one of those authors, please know I'm not trying to steal your ideas🤍 I hope you guys enjoy this piece and that it provides a unique perspective despite the possible similarities!
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
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The room was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves blowing through the windows to a slow rhythm, a song of the wind. It was not melodious or gentle. It was a dirge heralding the beginning of the storm. 
 The hospital room was clean but bare. There was no furniture, books, or colourful pillows, nothing to ease the quiet. All that was in here was a narrowed hospital bed, a small table beside it, and a chair.
The air was dried and sterile; it smelled of chemicals and a hint of decay that a hospital was always haunted by. 
Simon leaned against the doorframe, his powerful frame illuminated by a shaft of light from the hallway. He wore a tight black hoodie, dark blue jeans that hugged his thighs like a second skin, and black shoes. 
 Simon’s voice was low, velvet-like, and he looked directly into your eyes as he spoke, “Hey, sweetheart.”
You sat up in bed, wearing a hospital gown, no makeup, no jewellery. The only thing that popped out on you was the PICC on your left arm, a tape holding it in place with a trickle of blood that had soaked through. 
Your face was washed in the hospital’s flickering fluorescent light, and your eyes were cold and calculating, like an owl on the hunt. You didn’t say anything — you just watched Simon. 
 “How are you feeling?” his voice was a low rumble; his words were slow and measured.  
The chair cracked as he sat, the wood groaning in protest to hold his weight. 
 “Your wounds? Any pain?”
You blinked slowly but didn’t answer. Instead, you gazed at the ceiling, letting your eyes wander around the room. Your face was passive, your thoughts hidden.
Simon sighed. “I know you don’t want to talk.”
He waited for a reply, his breath holding as he stared into your eyes. The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly until he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “But...can you remember anything yet?”
He held his breath once more, almost afraid of the answer.
His tone was quiet, but his eyes were like deep pools of emotion, begging for understanding even as he kept his expression neutral. The slight twitch of his cheek indicated a level of tension as if he was holding back an outpouring of feelings that had been brewing inside him for days.
It was something that he asked every day, with the same inflexion and the same intonation. As the two-week mark approached, you grow accustomed to the sound of Simon’s voice, the feel of his presence. For those brief moments each day he spends with you, it is just the two of you. But despite his daily visits, you didn’t recall a single thing beyond your name and childhood.
Your eyes trailed over his face, trying to make sense of it, wondering if it should ring any bells — but there was nothing... No memory, no feeling, no recognition, no nothing. It was as if a faceless, empty void was talking to you.
He watched your lips press together, forming a thin line and heard the resigned sigh that escaped you.
“I've told you: I’ll tell you if I remember something.”
The corners of his mouth twitched with a weak attempt at a smile.
“Right. Okay.”
Simon stayed still for what felt like an eternity, his weariness apparent as he stared at your face. He had been doing this for two weeks – visiting every day – and yet nothing changed.
A long quiet stretched between the two of you. He slouched in his seat, exhausted and angry. Days had passed since you emerged from the coma—and yet, you still couldn’t remember a thing.
“This must get dull,” he said after a moment. “Me coming here like this every day, asking the same questions over and over.”
You looked at him sadly, your hands fidgeting in your lap. His gaze was intense as he spoke, his words soft and full of longing.
“We met in Moscow on a cold winter evening. I remember it like it was yesterday. You had just come out of the Bolshoi Theatre; you were undercover as a baroness.”
Simon took your hand; the touch was warm and reassuring against your own, no matter how cold and distant you were towards him. He peeled back your sleeve to reveal the scar running down the length of your arm. “You got this wound that night, right here. You were caught in a crossfire.”
He waited for an answer, but all you could do was shake your head in sorrow.
With a disappointed sigh, you murmured, “No...I don’t remember.”
He spoke softly but sternly like he was disciplining a child. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly. His voice held just the right amount of disappointment and hint of authority — something you had become accustomed to over the past few weeks.
His words made your face instantly stern; your eyebrows knit together in a frown, and your nostrils flared.
“I told you, I don’t remember!” you barked at him. A strange combination of rage and grief welled up in your chest and spilt over into your voice as you shouted out the following words, “What am I supposed to do? I’m trying here!”
Your skin was flushed with emotion.
He exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. The more he tried to explain himself, the angrier you became.
“I’m sorry...” he murmured. “I just want you to remember what we had,” he spoke softly, “all those moments we shared. I know you’re doing your best...but it’s hard for both of us. Please, let me help.”
There was a faint look of hurt but also resignation in Simon’s eyes.
“You come here every day, asking me to remember, and it doesn’t help!” you said, your voice full of frustration and anger. “Do you think I like this? Do you think I like having forgotten years of my life?”
Your whole body was rigid with stress and tension. You were tired of the constant questioning as if you could simply choose to remember by the snap of a finger.
Simon flinched, the sharp rebuke a painful reminder that he can’t control the situation, and he can’t fix what he can’t understand.
You glared at each other, icy daggers slicing through the air. Your fury was palpable, and his sorrow so heavy it weighed on his shoulders like an invisible cloak. The air between you sizzled with tension, and both were waiting for the inevitable explosion that was about to come.
But then Simon took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
You were a stranger to yourself. A stranger to your fiancé, your life, everything you once knew.
You used to look at him the way he would look at you, with pure and limitless love. But in that moment, you saw only fear and confusion in yourself. You looked at him and saw a stranger, a man you once loved but could not recognize.
He uttered your name in a whisper, almost afraid of what you would say. He reached out his hand, but as soon as his fingers grazed your arm, he felt you tense and recoil away. You had the same eyes as before, but it was like looking through a window into someone else’s life. Your eyes were wide with fear, your expression blank and unreadable—the only emotion present was anxiety. You grasped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white as you held onto them for dear life. He could sense that you were about to yell at him in frustration again.
The door opened, and a petite nurse in her forties stepped inside, alarmed by all the fuss. Her gaze was stern and commanding as she surveyed the room and all its medical equipment. As she drew near the bedside, her gaze softened. She placed one hand on your forehead in a soothing gesture. “Calm down, dear. You mustn’t upset yourself now,” she murmured. Then she turned to Simon, her gaze hardening once more. “Visiting time is over for you. It’s time to go now.”
” Just-,” he protested, trying to think of something to say that might convince the nurse to let him stay for a little while longer.
The nurse’s face was a mask of stern disapproval as she glared at him. Carefully consulting the chart, she stated in a tone that indicated this would not be questioned: “It is imperative for her health that she remain at rest and undisturbed.”
He reluctantly stood up, feeling as though he had been dismissed like an unwanted schoolboy sent home for misbehaving. He wanted to stay, to be there for you in whatever capacity he could, but he knew he had no choice but to obey the nurse’s command.
You looked away, your cheeks burning with shame. You felt the weight of your mistake as you tried to make sense of the situation.
He stayed still and silent for a moment before his lips brushed your forehead. “It’s okay,” he whispered, the warmth from his breath sending a chill down your spine. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He walks out slowly, his head down and his shoulders heavy. His thoughts were consumed with apologies he could never voice. 
As Simon’s footsteps faded away, you were surrounded by an oppressive silence. The beeping of the heart monitor seemed to get louder and louder. You wondered what time it was, how long until you could run from the room and the nurse, the needles and artificial lights and their cold. Your eyes darted around the cold, sterile room, taking in the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting and the unyielding machines with their wires and tubes that seemed to take up most of the space.
The muscles in your neck and shoulders tightened with anger as you realized how quickly your temper had gotten away from you, pushing away the one person who wanted to help you regain your memories. But it soon subsided, leaving you with nothing but a profound feeling of emptiness and helplessness. You let out a shaky breath, hating how small and powerless you felt.
“I wish I remembered,” you whispered.
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emsgoodthinkin · 6 months
Text
~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au
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This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]
• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com
• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors
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Eddie’s Pov
Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.
There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..
I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.
Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.
It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.
White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…
Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—
“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”
Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over
“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout
Lie.
“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies
Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—
“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile
You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”
——
She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.
We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.
We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.
Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first
It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.
She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.
All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.
Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.
Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.
“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck
“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat
-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”
“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.
I wonder how many guys she’s done this with
“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—
Biggest fucking ego boot ever.
“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”
“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me
“You know you are”
Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.
She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.
After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.
Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.
Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man
I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..
Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.
I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now
——
“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance
“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.
You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters
You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡
fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man
Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)
I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back
Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡
Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not
I’m already there babe ;)
I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic
Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡
No way she’s a virgin talking like that
She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink
Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.
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“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—
“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—
I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch
“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room
Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out
“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me
“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”
“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”
“Same thing” he glared
“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-
-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly
“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—
“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”
He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen
“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke
“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly
Cocky bastard.
Shit.
How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?
——
Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.
That was a fail, got carpet burn.
Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes
Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.
Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.
Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp
This shits hard. My back hurts.
Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off
FaceTime from Crush🖤
“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”
“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind
“Just took a hot shower is all”
“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”
“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen
“Well, that sounds like a party to me”
“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*
She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen
Fuck I’m hard again
“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge
Welp, gotta jerk off again
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Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.
I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.
Should I shave?
Would she care?
A little trim wouldn’t hurt
May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.
Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror
Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket
My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.
Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor
“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.
What the hell is she wearing
A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater
is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes
“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”
and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed
those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor
fuck I’m wet already
“Come on, already got it all set up for us”
“Lead the way princess” following behind you
I need to bite those fuckin legs.
——
We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.
“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”
I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”
She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”
My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up
Something else is about to be up—
“Huh?”
“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross
“Something on your mind Ed’s?”
Gulp
“No no just— “ sigh
“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”
She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side
“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins
“You have no idea. ”
My breath hitches when you straddle me
Fuck me
“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang
Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her
“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”
Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”
Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”
Who the fuck are you she thinks
“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…
You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it
“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”
“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest
—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”
You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,
I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.
Eddie, score
“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater
The goddamn groan I let out
Jesus Christ
You lie back down bashfully covering yourself
A whore being shy huh?
“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,
“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly
Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -
“What??”
I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down
You don’t answer
“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”
“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers
Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies
I try it..
“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks
I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”
I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap
I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands
Cute little hair she has
“Can I um..”
She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —
“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite
“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling
You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”
WHAT WHAT WHAT
“You’re packing Eddie”
“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her
“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock
-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend
She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding
Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face
Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble
Suck a pretty cock you think
You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick
“Y/n, y-you done this before?”
“Yeah—“
Damnit.
-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls
Hot.
Okay Eddie do what feels right
so that’s the clit? how cute
Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”
“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth
“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-
the only pussy I’ve ever tasted
I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted
Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me
“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere
“What?”
“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out
“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,
so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about
“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —
“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—
“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—
Holy shit who am I—
“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—
“Wait really?”
“Yes!”
“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—
Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours
“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”
Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”
The only head I’ve ever got
She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”
Lie.
Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—
Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it
Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core
You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in
“Wait! Wait!”-
“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—
“Eddie I need to tell you something..”
“Yeah?”
“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”
never done this before, never done this before
I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—
“Virgin too?”
“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”
“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”
“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking
“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”
“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—
“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”
“No..do you wanna stop?”
“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”
“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—
- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly
My heart is erect
I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”
Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—
“Holy fuck you’re so-
“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”
“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync
“Oh god”-
“What?”
“Holy god”—
“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—
“I told you, it’s okay”
“I know but that’s so embarrassing”
You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you
Silence.
“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”
“But you squeezed me?”
“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”
Fucking Steve
-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—
“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”
Well shit
He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think
“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”
“Really?”
“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours
You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—
Was that a car door??
“Is someone here?”
“Honey we’re home!”
FUCK, not now!!
(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)
reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️
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imaslutforwritingshit · 7 months
Text
Edward Cullen Imagine (F!Reader)
Y’all this took 2 hours 😨
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WARNING- smut, biting, oral (m receiving)
PART ONE
Fem. Reader-
Name: Calypso Sawyer (Callie)
Origin- From New Mexico, came to Forks with her father. Had just been introduced as Edward’s girlfriend to the Cullen family<3 A human girl, similar dynamic with Edward, and personality as Bella (but not as y/n tropey as Bella acted💀)
EDWARD CAN READ CALLIE’S MIND*
He just fell in love with her cuz she’s hot af
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Setting- The Cullen Mansion
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“I think I have to go now.”
Edward furrowed his perfect eyebrows, a tug of smile reaching his lips. “That’s not really necessary, Calypso.”
God, the way my name sounded on his lips made me wild.
I forced myself to think straight. “But Alice and Jasper already left. Emmett says he’s about to, too.”
Edward chuckled, a sweet, soft sound. “Jasper’s only leaving because you smell so mouthwatering. He wouldn’t want you to leave on his behalf. Stay.” The last words felt urgent on his tongue, and a sudden jolt of electricity ran through my veins.
Staying, at Edward’s house.
Alone with him.
Maybe I should be scared that I’m going to be alone with a vampire. A cold blooded killer.
But I’m more terrified of what I’ll do around him. The way he makes my senses heighten, and the rest of the world disappear. How he makes my heart feel close to bursting with a brush of his fingers.
I’m scared of myself.
“I don’t know, Edward.” The lie felt far-away in my mouth.
Edward’s smile faded, and he repositioned his body on the large bookshelf. “Because of me?” The look in his eyes told me he had read the words in my mind, the fear I felt, even if it wasn’t directed to him.
“No!” I rushed the words out, and stood off the sofa to touch his face, leaning my body to his shoulders. “No, anything but you. I just don’t want to mess this up.”
Edward laughed, a heavenly vibration on my neck. The small gesture warmed my insides. “You can’t mess this up, Callie. Nothing you could do would pull me away from you.”
I looked up at him. The strong line of his jaw, those predatory, bewildering amber eyes. My gaze wandered to the soft curves of his lips, and I couldn’t help myself when I leaned in.
He gripped my lower back in response, pulling me closer as we kissed. He was delicate, careful with his movement as always, but the intoxicating tease of his tongue on mine was different. He explored my mouth with a new passion, trailing his fingers on my waist. I shivered at the cold, yet exhilarating touch. Edward immediately coiled back, his chest rising and falling quickly from the touch.
“Are you okay?” I knew he already understood I was okay, the light in his eyes proving he already read my mind.
I almost laughed. “Yes, God. I’m okay, Edward.” A playful smile reached my lips, and I grabbed the collars of his shirt, letting my warm fingertips slide over his neck.
The feeling of my skin caused Edward to tilt his head back roughly, the clench of his jaw stronger. His tussled hair spread on old books rearranged on his shelf, and he closed his eyes, like my fingers were blades.
The room was blanketed in a heavy softness, so comfortable I pushed even more, letting my fingers fall to the smooth lines of his collarbones.
“Fuck, Callie!” Edward pushed away from me, and rushed his body to the balcony with supernatural speed, grabbing the railings with brutal strength. I stared with shock as his his body heaved with breath, the thin fabric of his grey shirt untucked from his dark blue slacks.
I covered my mouth and backed up. “Shit, is it my blood?” I hadn’t stopped to consider what my scent could have done to him. I even wore an extra layer of perfume to try to offset it, but it might’ve made it worse.
Edward turned around, walking to me in quick strides, and I fell back on the sofa. He kneeled in front of me, balancing his body on his palms on the cushion.
“That’s not what’s driving me crazy right now.”
I leaned closer, letting my lips part slightly. “Then what is it?”
Edward dropped his head from my eyesight, and curled his fingers near my own. “Vampires, especially males,” Edward lowered his voice, struggling to get the words out. “We go through potent episodes of…lust.”
My mouth fell open, and I manually forced my jaw to shut. “What?” My voice was an octave higher. “Like… in heat?”
Edward laughed a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.” His eyes met mine, the predatory color returning, like the way he had looked at me the first day we met.
I unconsciously almost moved back, but decided against it. Curiosity dared me to ask the next words. “So…um-how do you… take care of it?”
Edward’s hands snaked to my fingers, casually tracing circles on my knuckles. “How any guy would. Calypso, I’m still 17 in body.”
My face burned. The thought of Edward touching his body, pleasuring his self- it was too much to bear. Edward saw the blush on my face, and his nails dug into my fingers. His jaw was clenched so strongly I thought it would break, and his eyes had a dark coat of desire. He looked so desperate, a biological need for my body on his. So desperate for me. I could practically feel my mind, naked for him, all the images of his body spilling out of my thoughts.
I spoke before I could stop myself, the husky pitch of my voice unrecognizable.
“I suppose I could help you, then. It’s only fair.”
Those words alone flipped Edward over the edge. His fangs bared white, and he grabbed the small of my back, pulling me to the floor. My thighs landed, kneeled up, hitting the planes of his shoulders. He growled, running his hands over my body in animal-like movements.
“You don’t understand,” he groaned lowly, “what I want to do to you. It would sicken you. Everything I’ve thought about.”
I moaned at his touch, the embarrassment from the sound reaching the burn of my face. But it seemed to affect Edward more than me, because his breath changed into a rapid pace on my shoulder blades.
“I’d do anything for you, Edward.”
It was true.
He let out a breathy sound, and snaked his hands under my shirt, each point of my skin electrified into flame at the smooth pressure of his palm.
“You know what I want to do with you, Callie?” He brought his hand higher under my shirt, just above my ribs.
Desire clouded my vision.
“Show me.”
He exhaled in my ear, and roughly dropped his lips to mine, a strange sensation of cold skin meeting my warm one, causing fire to pop in my mouth.
“I won’t be able to control myself, Calypso.” His voice was so raw, stripped bare. He needed me, now. The very sound set me over the edge.
“I already can’t control myself when I’m around you.” I trailed my fingers from the muscles of his back, all the way to the seam of his pants. I traced the lines holding me back from his body, and he shuddered in the crook of my neck.
And he pushed a sharp sting of pressure on my neck- a bite. Edward breathed heavily, licking the area he drew his fangs in my body.
This was a dangerous, dangerous game. He was biting me so hard, the layers of my skin ripped, but not hard enough to draw blood.
This was a reckless mistake, a taste of his full desire for me.
And fuck, it was attractive. I could feel the area between my thighs throbbing, and I tried to clench my legs together, but his body was practically spreading mine out now.
Edward tenderly kissed the area, then dragged his teeth up my neck, biting just under my jaw. It stung even more this time, and his wet tongue drew circles, making my fingers tremble.
A loud whimper slipped from my mouth, and I dropped my head on his broad shoulder. I could feel the vibrations of his chuckle, and he pulled the fabric of my shirt over my head, a strange confidence washing over him.
“You’re so beautiful, Callie.” His voice had softened, but the low desire still edged on his words, and he let his fingertips meet the clasp of my bra. I gasped, and pushed my palms on his chest. “Please-“
Edward tugged on the lace, a sign to shut me up. “Let me enjoy this. I want you to feel good.”
I was practically leaking out of my panties now, and I prayed to God it didn’t show from my shorts.
He undid the bra, carefully letting the lace fall off my body. The cold air met my already hard nipples, and I fought the urge to cover my body.
I felt so vulnerable. But I liked it. Feeling vulnerable for him.
Edward didn’t hide the breathy moan in his throat, and he kissed my breasts, starting from the low curve to the area near my collarbone. “You’re so perfect, it’s driving me insane. Insane.”
But his hands were grasped tighter around me, nails practically poking through my skin. I knew he was getting impatient.
I pushed him off, gentle enough to be kind, but strong enough to send a message. He wiped his mouth, the swell of his pink lips shining in the light of the open room.
“Get on the bed.” I paused, and added a sweet plead to my tone. “Please.”
Edward slowly rose to his feet, holding the tips of my fingers, but his eyes didn’t rise off my bare body. I could feel the blood rushing to my face.
He sat on the edge of the bed, spreading his legs effortlessly. I watched the strong muscles of his thighs, then trailed my eyes higher, to the bulge in his pants.
Shit.
He leaned back on his arms, a cocky expression smoothing over his features. He was watching me, seeing what I was going to do.
But the urgency in his eyes didn’t fade, and I knew one thing, and one thing only.
I wanted to please him.
I dropped to my knees, and Edward immediately raised his body, closing his knees a little. I pushed the top of his thigh open, and he relaxed tentatively.
“Callie, you don’t have to-“
I rose my eyes to his, hoping the innocent expression would get him to stop talking. It did. His words caught when he stared back down at my breasts, and he shifted his legs uncomfortably to try to hide the reaction of his body.
A smile danced on my lips, and I pulled down the zipper of his pants. He was so big, and I hadn’t even seen his boxers yet.
I wondered if this ever happened before, if he had ever gotten hard to the thought of me.
“Yes. It did. And I have.” Edward smiled, savoring the embarrassment on my face.
The fact he read my mind, heard those thoughts,
I didn’t hesitate when I pulled down his pants.
He was wearing dark grey boxers, clean and neat around his lean frame. His cock was pressing against the fabric, the shape almost being explicit against his underwear.
His voice was thick with mockery. “Do you need me to help you, pretty girl? You seem a little nervous.”
I ripped those off, too.
His cock sprang up, and wo-ow, his body is probably entirely perfect. A pink head, delicately sculpted on his thick shaft, the entire shape veiny, like some work of art, smooth, pale skin twitching with anticipation.
He laughed, the admiration of his dick apparently seeping through my thoughts. I slowly let my fingers wrap around it, and Edward’s breath hitched. I brought my body closer, the points of my nipples grazing over his knees, and I let my mouth touch the tip of his cock. He immediately arched his neck, throwing his head back as if every small touch was causing him overwhelming pleasure. I could see the way his hands were gripping the sheets, and I suddenly wished he was grabbing my hair, instead.
As if he was reading my mind, (he was), Edward let his hand drag on my scalp, urging my mouth to go farther.
I dropped my lips, pushing his dick to the back of my throat, but the length of his shaft was too much for me to fit all the way. Edward didn’t make any complaints, though, because he was too busy trying to control the raspy moans slipping from his tongue.
“That’s it. Yeah, good-“ he broke into a low groan, bucking his hips forward. “Good girl.”
The pet name had me bobbing my head even more, warming his entire dick with the saliva of my mouth. I could feel Edward’s eyes on me, taking in the skin of my back, the feeling of my lips. He clenched the scalp of my hair, and began pushing my head on his body, working my mouth the way he wanted.
He forced my head down, dropping it all the way on his dick, and I made myself take it all instead of gagging. He jerked my head up, over and over, each thrust of his hips in my mouth messier and shorter, as if he was close already. His dick warmed the back of my throat, but he pulled my lips all the way up, saliva coating my tongue. Edward’s eyes were pools of black now, so dark it slightly terrified me.
Whatever episodes of lust he was talking about, he must’ve hit his peak now. It seemed like he was on the brink of destroying me.
“Get up.” His voice was hoarse, and his mouth twitched with the words.
As soon as I did, Edward used his strength to slam me to the couch, letting my stomach hit the cushion. I repositioned my head, trying to meet his eye, but he crawled on top of me, and whispered low in my ear,
“The way I’m about to make you scream, my love, is gonna hurt way more than my cock in your pretty throat.”
Part TWO here
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poetslastdeath · 25 days
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SAFE
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gn!reader x john price, slightly unhinged and very obsessed reader, they are down BADDDD
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the air is cold and heavy, whipping around you and biting at your skin sharply as rain pours from the dark sky above.
the only light that shines down on you two is a ray of moonlight and brushes over his cheek, wet and shiny with rain, and your gloved half bloody hands cupping his cheek.
paying no mind to the dead hostiles littering the ground, treating them casually like they are merrily pebbles to kick out of your way. you move forward, prices back presses harder against the stone brick wall, harshly pressing into his gear until he can feel it but pays it no mind.
lips against his, warm and slightly capped, his beard brushing against your face. you bite his lip, almost hoping it draws blood, you would get on your knees and savor every drop of his blood like it was salvation, like you were a broken devotee.
he lets out a noise, small and almost drowned out by the heavy sounds of rain, but you’re close enough to hear it, to savor it desperately. gripping him like he could die any moment.
he almost had. it was a close call, a simple almost harmless misstep, cornered with an empty barrel.
he would have died, he could have died, he could have died, you repeat over and over again maddeningly.
he could’ve if it wasn’t for the shattering of a window and a bullet finding its place right in the head of the hostile before it had even stepped into the room price was in.
you pull back, when he squeezes your waist so tight you think he might break his finger.
“price.” you mumble, grabbing his chin and forcing his head up to look at the dark moon sky only sparkled with stars that looks like flickering flames.
the warm press of a kiss against the skin of his jaw, then his neck. and to the astonishment of anyone else but you, he melts like hot wax in your hands.
he murmurs your name back, it echoes in your ears and you grip him tighter. his hand goes around to grip the back of your head, fingers tangled in wet hair.
your other hand travels down to press against the small of his back, under his soaked shirt and touching clammy skin with leather.
you mumble, “i would have killed them all. ripped out all of their throats for looking at you, thinking about you.” unworthy and yet granted privilege, you are.
his grip tightens, he leans his head down slightly to press and firm kiss to your head, a similar desperation that claws at your ribcage form your chest echoes in his own. he lets out a breathless chuckle, low and deep and half hysterical.
“mad, you are.” he breathes, there’s a certain affection weaved through his words, it sits warm around you. “fuckin hell.” he huffs, almost like he’s talking to himself.
there’s a pause, a moment only filled by the echoes of the night and the haunting sound of gunshots ringing through the empty bloody city even after all that’s left is two desperate bodies pressing against each other over the dead bodies that tried to take them from each other.
“yours.” you mumble, dropping your hand down to trail down his neck to his chest, over his heart. beating, echoing through your own body. “yours.”
if you could, you would drop down to your knees until they are bloodied and bruised, worship dripping off of your lips like honey, a promise. to follow him, forever, to the ends of the earth. you think the earth should thank him, that he wants to keep it clean, to save it. because if he even thought about it, you would burn the world. if only to see the flames reflected in his eyes.
“mine.” he echoes. and with the squeeze of his grip, you melt and all thoughts that aren’t him, the smell of cigar and ashes, the feel of his skin against yours, melt away with you.
yeah, his.
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sytoran · 1 year
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𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 ⌇ natasha romanoff
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summary: you need some stress-relief, and the continuance of natasha's willingness is there to solve it all.
☰ PAIRING: sub!secretary!natasha x dom!ceo!reader
☰ REQUEST: hellooo can i req a secretary/assistant natasha x boss/ceo reader with any exhibitionism? maybe r has had a stressful day and is using nat to let off steam n they frgt to lock the office door, a bit similar to ur prev nat ficc. the other details can be up to uu. tyy :D
☰ NOTE: i decided to turn it into a sequel to my previous fic, office hours. it has alot of similarities, and i don’t want my works to feel repetitive. hope that’s fine with yall. enjoy this one! 
☰ TAGS: office!au, smut, exhibitionism, dirty talk, stress-relief sex, risky sex, rough fingering, marking, slightly possesive behaviour, horniness, a lot of it
part 1 / masterlist / requests are open
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needless to say, that wasn't the last time you and natasha got caught up in similar shenanigans.
on some days, flaming red hair was the last thing you saw before you got forcefully dragged into a cramped storage room by your tie, then pulled into a kiss so passionate it made your head spin.
on other days, you just couldn't help but slip wandering fingers under plaid skirts during office meetings, the room dark enough to hide steady thrusts, but quiet enough to make your secretary squirm.
and on your favorite days, natasha basically pounced onto you before you closed the door to your office, panting and whining and pulling down her panties to reveal a soaked cunt, one that you devoured with heated fervour.
yes, it was a risky game you played, considering natasha was getting bolder and bolder, and you were craving her more and more.
but maybe the breaking point was something you dared to test the boundaries of, on one particular wednesday evening.
"oh, please! fuck," natasha cried, whines spilling from divine lips, as you plunged two fingers up inside her. 
it was just another regular tuesday, of work left undone and lust unbound. 
you grunted in response, recklessly hiking up her skirt. today had been a shit day, and it was probably wrong to use your secretary as an outlet to relieve stress, but if natasha wasn't complaining, neither would you.
“you’re mine,” you panted, littering kisses all over her collarbone. natasha was sitting on your lap, facing you, desperately grinding on the coarseness of your jeans. “you’re all mine.”
before your secretary could utter another word of easy compliance, footsteps could be heard along the corridor. 
natasha’s breath constricted in her throat, freezing in your arms. you stilled your movements for a moment, letting out a slow puff of warm air that raised goosebumps along natasha’s neck.
the voices didnt seem to stop, almost as if they were chattering right outside your office door. dimly illuminated by a streak of light that sneaked in, your subordinates would be able to catch sight of your doings with just a simple push of the door that was minimally ajar.
amidst the tensed silence, your tongue found the delectably bare skin of natasha's neck. slowly trailing it up the narrow column of the back of her neck, her needy gasp hardly stifled.
"w-wait," natasha breathed, core clenching when you left a wet kiss at that soft spot, under her earlobe and above the jaw.
natasha bit her lip fervently to prevent moans from spilling out. feeling wetness pool in her drenched panties, she tried to grind against your thigh.
natasha could still hear the voices from outside very well, only heightening her alert senses, making it all the more arousing when your hands found solace up her skirt, roaming over the expanse of milky thighs.
"so needy, hmm? can't even wait for a second," you rasped softly into her ear, nipping at her earlobe.
your secretary squirmed under touches so soft yet so inviting. god, she was dripping down her thighs, clit throbbing with need. it was so hot, you teasing her to no end even though there were people just right outside.
you could still hear the voices outside very well, the conversation becoming more casual, a cacophony of loud laughs.
seizing the opportunity, you slid two fingers into natasha's pretty cunt, her cry of pleasure overrun by the hearty laughter.
you shifted her to face the slightly open door, thighs spread wide to expose her dripping cunt. you smirked at her flushed features, natasha evidently incredibly turned on.
you began rocking your fingers at a steady pace, not the most brutal but enough to make natasha bite into the flesh of her palm to stop from letting out a string of russian curses.
"you'd let me fuck you stupid right here, hmm? when anyone could just walk in?"
thumb brushing against her swollen clit with every thrust, natasha felt the fire building up all too quickly, nodding dumbly.
your fingers felt so good, scissoring all the spots inside her that made natasha go wild, flexible enough to reach spots she didn't even know existed within her.
it took a sheer lot of willpower to stay quiet, eyes wide with alertness as she stared at the ray of light sneaking past the open door, just waiting for someone to catch you two in the act.
but knowing you, you probably wouldn't stop fucking her, let whoever watch you fuck your dumb little secretary stupid, let everyone know she was yours and yours only.
and you'd make her cum, over and over and over again, then forcing her to suck your fingers, and maybe if she was good you'd let her take the strap.
"doll, my pants are ruined. look at you," your low whisper jolted natasha out of her wild fantasies, the redhead now very aware of how soaked she was.
her panties were haphazardly pushed to the side, bare cunt facing the slightly open door, two of your fingers were buried in her, your other hand clamped over her mouth as she panted and drooled.
"gonna cum again? need me to help you to be quiet?" you asked lowly, a low thrum barely noticeable amidst the louder noises outside.
natasha nodded, eyes glassy and unfocused. you bit back a groan at her state of duress, only urging you to make you hers.
maybe it was your frustrations from the job of stark industries' CEO, or maybe it was the voices outside, or maybe it was just your wonderful secretary, but you decided to curl up your fingers harshly right as natasha was about to cum, shattering every last fragment of secrecy there ever was.
the near scream natasha let out, despite your hand shoved up against her pliant mouth, made you bite into her shoulder, leaving a bruise.
she was yours, she was yours, she was-
and then the door swung open, and standing there with his jaw dropped, was tony stark.
well, if you ever lost your job, it would've been for a good cause.
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taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats
if u wanna join the taglist, feel free to drop an ask or a comment <3
i spent so long on this PLEASE TUMBLR DON'T DO THE NAUGHTY
masterlist
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delicateflowerss · 8 months
Text
You Were Never Mine
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You couldn't have Conrad Fisher in the fall, but maybe you can have him in the summer.
Warnings: 18+, smut, underage drinking, mention of loss of virginity, mention of drugs, angst, friends with benefits, unrequited love
Word Count: 2.1k
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You never expected to see him here.
Now you hide behind strangers, hoping he doesn’t see you too.
You watch him run his hand through his hair, almost nervously, maybe absentmindedly. He cradles a beer in his other hand, his attention on the friends that surround him.
It’s those tiny details that make your heart clench, wincing at the things that could have been, the things you could have had.
You met Conrad last fall. It was a party similar to this one. It was full of firsts, loud and messy. A college party through and through.
You had gotten into some drunken debate with some friends, and you hadn’t noticed that Conrad had joined in until it was just the two of you, arguing over something stupid that most people wouldn’t care about.
Then before you knew it, his lips were on yours and clothes were being thrown to every corner of some small bedroom.
It was your first time, but Conrad didn’t know that. You cursed at yourself when you were sober enough to realize what happened. You never intended to lose your virginity while you were drunk, let alone to a guy you just met.
You knew nothing about him so you worried he would be stuck as some one-night stand, your first one-night stand.
Until you ran into him when you were leaving the library one night. You were there late, studying for an exam the next day. He was the one who called out to you, even remembering your name.
You don’t know why you expected anything less from him.
It was cold and dark, so he offered to walk you to your dorm. You thought it was sweet, that he cared enough to do something like that.
After that, you saw him more and more. It wasn’t too long before you were spending the night in each other’s beds.
It became a habit, a dangerous one.
Sometimes, he would accidentally leave his plaid shirts in your room, leaving them draped over your desk chair.
Normally, you would give them back. Except, one you kept. You hoped he would forget he ever left it, and you would get to keep it for yourself.
And he did, never asking about it.
Now it’s summer vacation and your family decided to spend it in Cousins this year. You thought Conrad had mentioned to you once or twice that he spends his summers here too, but you hoped your memory was false.
All you can think about now is when you’ll be able to leave.
Your hiding game doesn’t last long before he notices you, your gaze meeting his. You don’t miss the surprise that paints his face, but you don’t see it for long as you’re turning away, leaving the smell of weed and booze behind you.
Summer is cruel for playing this sick joke on you. The town must be small because you’ve had to dodge Conrad a few times since you saw him at that party, including hiding behind a produce stand at the market.
You hope to find a reprieve at the beach, salt air hanging heavily around you as you lay sprawled out on a towel.
But all you have to do is turn your head and you see him again. You want to roll your eyes at your luck and it’s like he can sense you’re looking at him because he catches your eye.
You hope that he’ll go the other way, pretending he doesn’t see you.
He doesn’t do that.
Your name falls easily from his lips as he walks up to you.
“What’re you doing in Cousins?” he asks, and you wonder if the slight smile on his face is covering his annoyance that you’re here in the first place.
You clear your throat, standing up so he’s not looming over you.
He has a surfboard under his arm and his chestnut hair is wet, droplets of water falling from the strands onto his skin.
You swallow, wanting nothing more but to trace your fingertips on his damp skin.
“My parents decided to vacation here this summer,” you say, shrugging your shoulders, making it clear you had no choice in the matter.
All he does is nod, his blue gaze still on you and it makes you nervous as you don’t know what’s going through his head.
“How have you been liking it?” he finally asks, ending the awkward silence.
“I like it a lot. It’s really nice here.”
You avoid talking about how you dread leaving your vacation house just in case you run into him.
Your stare finds the sand beneath your feet, and you don’t notice him starting to say your name, his brow furrowing like he’s about to say something serious.
“I should get going,” you interrupt. “It was good seeing you, Conrad,” you hurriedly say before grabbing your things and leaving.
He watches you, a heaviness passing through his eyes.
You and Conrad were like a lit match, burning bright for a short time before being snuffed out, leaving nothing but a lingering smoke.
You could’ve lived forever in those few months when the air was crisper and fall leaves littered the ground.
It was an unspoken agreement that the two of you wouldn’t talk about what you exactly were. It was just kisses on collarbones and hands on thighs. It was whispered late-night conversations where you could say anything that was on your mind, except if it had to do with you and Conrad.
Then you slipped up.
You could hear his even breathing next to you, but he wasn’t asleep.
“Conrad?” you whispered.
He hummed in response.
“I need to ask you something.”
You don’t know why you broke the rule, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t know why he didn’t want to be yours.
You could feel his gaze on you but in the darkness, you couldn’t see the intensity of it or the slight worry.
“I need to know…what this is,” you said so quietly that you almost hoped he didn’t hear you.
You could feel him shift, turning onto his back so he stares at the ceiling instead of you.
“Does it need to be something?” His voice is even.
“Isn’t it, already?”
A moment passed and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“It’s just sex, Y/N,” he said casually, shrugging his shoulders.
You swallowed, not wanting the tears to well up any further.
It wasn’t a second later before he got out of bed, putting his clothes back on. He said something about seeing you later, but you knew it was a lie.
And it was. For the rest of the school year, you would sometimes see him at a party or somewhere on campus. But he would just act like he didn’t know you, and you did the same.
For some reason, you kept his shirt, maybe because it still smelled like him.
That’s why it was so confusing that he would talk to you now, just because you happen to be in the same town as him for the summer.
The music is so loud it’s hard to think. But maybe you don’t want to, choosing to drown your sorrows in whatever is at the bottom of the red solo cup in your hand.
You’re not sure why you let yourself go to another party, knowing it’s likely you’d see Conrad again.
But as you walk through the swarms of people and you don’t see his face, you almost wish he was there.
It’s not until you find the backyard that you find the face you could recognize anywhere.
He sits by the pool, the blue reflecting onto his face. Locks of his hair fall over his eyes as he takes a swig of his beer.
He’s alone, a sullenness overtaking his features.
Your feet move on their own accord, your mind not having caught up with them. Why should you talk to him?
It doesn’t matter that you can’t think of an answer, you’re already stepping outside.
He finally moves to see you walking up to him. He doesn’t fake a smile, his gaze finding the water.
“What’re you doing out here?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sure you prefer it. So, you don’t have to see me,” he says, looking at you.
Now it’s your turn to look away, also finding the pool more interesting.
“I came out here, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, slightly nodding. “But what about all those other times you avoided me?”
You can feel your cheeks getting warmer.
“You can’t hide from me, you know,” he adds, his tone teasing.
“I don’t want to,” you say, staring at the ground.
Something thick settles between the two of you.
“And I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” he replies.
“Really?” you scoff.
“I never meant to make you feel differently.”
You assume that’s his version of an apology.
“Well, you did, Conrad. It really seemed like you never wanted to see me again.”
You cross your arms as you wait for his response.
He swallows, setting his beer down on the concrete.
“But that’s not true,” he says, standing up, finally looking you in the eyes. “I never said I didn’t want to see you again.”
“No, you just lied about it.”
His fingers are back in his hair, nervously pushing back the strands in his face.
“I didn’t know it meant so much to you.”
You furrow your brow, wondering if he’s oblivious to his rudeness or if he knows he’s an asshole.
“You didn’t think I liked you? At all?”
Anger seeps out of your voice as you step closer to him.
A moment passes, only the distant sound of waves crashing, and the muffled sounds of the party can be heard.
“I liked you, Conrad. A lot,” you explain. “And you just left, without saying another word to me. You know how shitty that is?”
“You shouldn’t have just sprung that on me,” he argues back. “Especially at that moment. I mean, who does that?”
“There was no other time you talked to me,” you say, and it almost sounds pathetic.
He just stares at you, and you realize it is pathetic. You’re pathetic.
You don’t think you can take it anymore, so you turn around quickly, wanting to get far away from him. But your foot catches on something, forcing you to lose your balance.
You try to grab onto Conrad’s arm, hoping he would pull you back from the water’s edge. Instead, you fall into the pool, Conrad right after you, both of you submerged in the deep, deep blue.
You swim to the top as he does the same, finding him blinking the water out of his eyes as you both take a breath.
“Why did you pull me in?” he asks with feigned irritation, splashing you a little.
“You pulled yourself in. You were supposed to catch me.” Your tone matches his as you splash him more than he splashed you.
“I’m sorry,” he says, too genuine for letting you fall into the pool.
“It’s fine. I mean, you’re in here too.”
“No. About…what I did,” he says with a shaky breath, sincerity written on his face. “It was shitty, and you didn’t deserve that.”
Now that you’ve heard the words you’ve been longing to hear, your mind is blank.
“You have no idea how many times I thought about trying to talk to you again. And when I saw that you were in Cousins…I took my chance,” he continues.
“Why did you wait so long?”
“I thought you hated me. And I was right.”
“I don’t hate you, Conrad,” you interrupt. “I could never hate you.”
“You should. I hope you burned that shirt I left in your dorm.”
“What? You knew I had that?”
His lips curve into a smirk before you splash him again.
“Why didn’t you say anything if you knew I had it?” you ask.
“Because I wanted you to have it. Have something that was mine,” he adds, his voice gentle.
Your eyes soften as you feel yourself inching closer to him.
It’s not long before he presses his lips to yours, a hand holding the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.
Your legs curl around his hips as his other hand hooks under your thigh. He softly bites your bottom lip before pushing his tongue inside your mouth.
While his other hand moves from your neck to your chest, his lips drag down the wet skin of your neck.
His fingers go down farther, finding the inside of your shorts. You can’t help the soft moan that falls out of you as he rubs the front of your underwear.
Your hips move, grinding yourself on the palm of his hand.
“Should we move this inside?” he whispers against your cheek.
And you can’t help but wonder if this means things will change.
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sunoosets · 8 months
Note
angry, jealous sex with jungwon<3 + breeding kink
i tried to combine these two asks as they were pretty similar, i hope you don't mind :)
"pls write on how jw would be rough or hard on you when he gets upset and jealous?? he’d be looking down on you condescendingly when fucking you aaa 😭💓"
this includes a breeding kink, sub!reader, cock slapping, a lot of cum.., mad, jealous won
not rlly read over, kinda messy near the end(oops)..enjoy nonetheless!
Jungwon would have you on your back, spine pressed into the mattress as he handles your thighs with no mercy. Fingers curling, palm marking the flesh red while he tugged you toward his hips. You could whine, you could whimper. His eyes would reply, with flaming, fiery anger. Far from remorseful. A condescending look stretching along his unamused features. His brows would be tightly furrowed and would cramp harsher whenever you groaned impatiently. Rolling yourself forward, against the tip of his leaking cock. He would twitch, but glare, and take hold of his pre-cum stained base with a palm. Slapping the pink, wet tip against your yearning pussy. Throbbing for him and his length. You would cry, muffle your moan through your pressed lips. Toss your head until your hair was a tousled mess that weaved itself along the sheets. Your lashes would flutter. “Look at me.” He would demand. Fingers still settled on his cock, while his tip was trailed between your folds, and over your glistening clit. “Jungwon…” You’d sigh, and his cock would meet your cunt a second time. The slap creating a crude wet sound, which set your jaw to hang low, and your eyes to linger further in the back of your mind. “Don’t whine.” He’d scoff. “You’re getting fucked. That’s what you want right? By talking to Heeseung like that, I’d assume so.” Jungwon grunts, and your empty, needy hole was quickly filled. Stretched out by his length, as he pushes himself in so desperately. Fingers grasping at your thighs, to hold you, spread, either side of him. “Shit!” You curse. “It wasn’t like that, Won.”
“Hm?” He hums, fingers digging into your skin. His cock twitches, and your breath hitches. He bulges against your stomach. His cock so deep, dragging through you. Fucking your insides. His skin was warm and soft. Contrasting greatly to the stern, condescending look he wore as he peered down on you. You felt so small. “You’re so tight.” He bites his lip. Eyes slipping to land on your drooling pussy. So wet around him. Clenching like a desperate, pathetic slut. Needing all of him. Every last bit of him. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, okay?” He speaks, eyes flashing upwards. You swallow, lips parted to create a clear breathing path. With his tip stroking your stomach it was difficult to remain both literate and coherent.
“Okay?” Jungwon repeats. “You’re mine.” He says deeply, gaze turning cold, and dark. He licks over his lips and thrusts back into you. Shaking your body. “I’ll have to fill you up, huh?” He continues, rutting like an animal. Hair teased, tips damp and clinging to his shining skin. His neck was wet, and his adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow. His chest heaved, seemingly harsher when he mentioned filling you. You whined, head melting backward into an array of pillows. Your head became nestled, chin tilting upward. “Do you want my cum?”
Your stomach flips. An almost drowning feeling, as everything dips downward. Like your falling or slipping down on a rollercoaster ride. That feeling where your organs tumble, and your brain releases this warmth that spreads like the sea. Devouring everything.
“Please, oh, please!” You begged as you balled the sheets into your palms. Holding tightly until your knuckles wash white, like your gripping for life on a theme park ride. “Jungwon, please cum in me.” You mumble, holding back the string of moans building larger, deep within your narrow throat. He doesn’t smile, chewing back his lip. He fucks into you, panting almost. “I’ll cum so hard you’ll be swollen with my baby.” He growls, dipping his head down while he bucks harder. Letting his cock slide in, and then out. Letting your warmth suck him in, and then hold him deep inside. Your walls clenching tighter. He let slip a moan, hips snapping once, and then twice. His cum dripped inside of you, staining your pulsing walls. You were so full of his cum. Watching him as he threw his head back. Snapping his hips each time another string shot from his swollen tip. He was milking himself dry, held tightly between your thighs.
“All mine…” He panted. Dropping from his high. His warm skin was decorated with a sheen of sweat. His grip on your hips loosened while his head fell forward. He had sincere features, dusted in pink, and then he sighed. Pushing back his teased hair with a palm. “Only I can fill you up with my cum.”
You lowered your head. Arms and legs shaky against the white, stained duvet. Your thighs had begun to close, nearing each other, to rub and clench. Jungwon smirked, fingers lingering over your knees. His palms settled down, where he pulled apart your thighs, gently dropping himself down your calves and toward your ankles. Your eyes grew, and a sense of puzzlement ran by your tainted cheeks. His fingers hooked through the fabric of your underwear, and his eyes softened. Raising to meet your own, larger ones. He lifted the material, dragging it carefully until the soft cotton pressed your messy clit. Your lips fell open. “You’re gonna have my cum all day.” He smiled, pridefully. Dimples popping from between his skin. His sweet, dark eyes were corrupted with a lust, that you swallowed to. You were desperate to push back the deep feeling within your stomach, especially when you felt the warmth of his cum build between your legs. Filling your pants and dripping down the inner sides of your thighs.
“If anyone would try fuck you, they’d have a surprise...” He held back a laugh, smile growing as a mischief burst throughout his pupils. His palm lay between your legs, where he pressed gently. You gasped. Feeling his pleasure rub up against your desperate clit. It pulsed against the white mixture, wanting more, but the boy was long gone. Raising up from the bed and leaning toward your side. His thumb and forefinger met beneath your chin and tilted you in his direction. There, he pressed a kiss to your parted lips. A short, sweet, gentle kiss.
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