#this woman is so hot she makes me wish I was still in the closet so she could be my gay awakening

[artificial-transmutations]

Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!

Confidence

Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.

When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".

No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.

He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.

Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.

The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.

Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.

Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.

Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.

He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.

"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.

"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"

Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."

The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"

Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.

"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."

"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".

"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."

Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.

"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"

Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.

"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."

Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".

Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"

Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.

A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.

"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."

A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."

Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"

With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.

Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?

A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.

Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?

He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.

When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.

The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?

Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?

Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.

An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.

When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.

"Hello, Nathan!"

"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.

"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.

"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.

"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"

"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.

"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."

"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"

Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.

After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"

Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"

The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.

Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

"Damn, it's that late already?"

"What is it?", asked Nathan.

"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"

Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.

"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."

Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"

Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.

"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.

"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"

"Sure!"

Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.

"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.

Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.

When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.

Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.

Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.

Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.

Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.

Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.

He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.

Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.

His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.

Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.

Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.

The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.

During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.

Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.

After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"

Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.

So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."

Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"

Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"

The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.

Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.

There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"

"I would love that!"

They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.

When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.

As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.

Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!

When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.

Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.

After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!

His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.

None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.

Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.

The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.

Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.

At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.

They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.

The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.

"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.

"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Na, I'm here on foot."

Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."

There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.

"Sounds great!"

A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.

"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."

"Oh. Thanks."

Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."

"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.

"Yeah. Fits better, you know."

"I guess so. I like it a lot!"

"I like your style, too."

"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.

"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."

"Why, thank you!"

The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.

Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.

They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.

"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."

When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.

"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."

While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.

"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."

Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.

"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"

"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"

Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"

"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"

Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."

Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.

Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.

Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."

Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.

"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.

Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.

With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.

The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.

"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.

When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.

"You really are a big boy, huh?"

"Damn right I am."

"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"

"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."

"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."

Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.

"You're ready?"

"Do it, big guy."

Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.

"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.

The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.

Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.

"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"

"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.

"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"

Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.

The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.

A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.

I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #hairy #mental transformation #sweat #musk #romance

[kristlewrites]

“Shoot! Take a Panorama”

CW: semi-public sex, degradation (slut, whore, bitch), oral (m!receiving), slut-shaming, nickname (mamas), dacryphilia, rough sex, but dw aftercare at the end!

PAIRING: TattooArtist!Law x Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.9k

🫧🗯️: Thank you so so much for all the support on my lastest fics, it means alot to me!🫶🏽 uh ive never gotten a tattoo yet, so if the tattoo experience isnt accurate... oh well! I had to watch a video to get as best as i could ijbol. Also way off topic but has anyone watched bottoms, like its probably one of my fave movie releases this year.

MINORS DNI

(Cheese!)

Hand in hand you and Perona skipped down the cold sidewalk. It was just a little past midnight and both you and Perona were all jittery with excitement. While you guys were at Peronas apartment, she had this insane idea that you guys should have matching tattoos. "It'll be so cute!” She squeals, holding up her phone showing some ideas. Searching through pinterest you guys had finally come to an agreement on the design, matching stars in hot pink ink right on your waist. You guys spend about thirty minutes looking for a parlor that's open this late.

“Ohh it's gonna be impossible” Perona sulks, throwing her phone across her bed. Laying down in defeat

“No, look! I found one and look they take walk-ins too!” You exclaimed you show her, her mood quickly changes while she springs up from the bed and starts jumping

“Well let's go!” She shrieks, opening for her closet revealing all different shades of pink and black clothing pieces. She put on a cute two piece outfit and you were ready to go!

You guys approach a small store, built with red brick decorated with neon lights flickering ‘Open 24/7’. Deserted parking lot, with only two cars assuming that they both belong to the employees.

“Is this the right place?” Perona questions. 

“Umm, It should be” you reply with a little uncertainty in your voice “It should be fine though”

In sync you guys make your way towards the glass doors, met with a cold breeze sending yall into a shiver.

“Hey what can I do for y'all?” A woman's voice vibrated through the room, capturing your attention. “My name is Bonney”

“We wanted to get matching tattoos.” answered Perona, her arms tangled around yours squeezing them.

“Awh, that's so cute. Give me a minute, I have to tidy up the studio.” Bonney existed the counter and headed into a room towards the left

“Ahhh! I'm so excited” Perona shrills, making her way towards some chairs lined up against the brick wall.

“I know right!” You respond admiring all the beautiful artworks lined up against the wall varying with color and realism. ‘The people here must be really good’ you thought to yourself, sitting next to perona.

Bonney comes out of the room waving to Perona letting her know it's time. “Wish me luck y/n” Perona whispers, clearly nervous but also excited at the same time.

“Law should be ready for you anytime soon” Bonney reassured you, closing the door behind her.

Now that you were alone, you finally realized the severity of the situation. You didn't think about the consequences till now, and how irresponsible it may seem that this was decided just on impulse. But not just that but what about the actual process? Your pain tolerance was below average.

“You can come in now.” you hear a rough voice from across the store. Reluctantly you grab your purse and get up from your seat making your way slowly into the room.

 Hesitantly Knocking on the door, “Hello” 

The door opens wide to reveal a tall melanated man littered with tattoos from head to toe.

“Show me your design” He asks, not even giving you attention. Pulling out your phone, you show him the design. He pats onto the chair gesturing for you to sit down. You lay down onto the chair facing towards the ceiling while he fishes for his tools. “Where do you want it?” He asks, still searching for his tools.

“Right here” You lower your shorts and point down towards your waist. 

He moves his chair towards his desk and quickly starts sketching out the design, “Is this alright?” he asks, displaying his outline, you nod at his impressive work. You flinch at the coolness of the alcohol. Which he wipes down the area of your stomach making sure that it is nice and prepped. He sets down his stencil sketch on the region where you want the tattoo to be, tearing it off gently leaving the ink on your skin.

A few seconds later you hear the intimidating buzzing noise of the machine coming closer. “Let me know when you're ready” Law asks, wiping down the tip of the needle. You nod nervously. ‘Its now or never’ you think to yourself. 

You squirm from the contact of the needle converging on your skin, you tense up a little from the pain but with time the pain becomes much more tolerable. It takes no time at all, you finish as quick as you started. He pats down the area of the tattoo with care then gets up “Don't make any sudden movements, I'm gonna grab a bandage real quick” he declares standing up leaving the room. 

You reach for your purse, digging for your wallet. But it wasn't there!!? ‘Ohmyfuckinggod; you thought to yourself immediately you sat up “Shit!” you whisper shout from the pain of the freshly inked tattoo. No way you left your wallet at personas apartment are you kidding how does that even happen. You were sure that it was in your purse when you left.

You hear Laws footsteps come closer and lay back down, you're so fucked.He comes in setting down the bandage and running through the aftercare steps. You are not even paying attention, worried about how you'll be able to even leave. “Did you get that?” he asks

“Um, yea.”

“So cash or card?”

“Well about that…I kinda sorta left my wallet at home.”you say  “Do you guys take apple pay?”

“No.” he says bluntly

“Well h-how about I cash app you?” 

“I'm not allowed to receive tips”

“Pleaseee” you were pleading for you life

He shakes his head no

“Well, how am I supposed to pay you?” you say whining a little bit.

A devilish smirk sneaks up across his face “I have an idea.”

Next thing you know, your knees are on the cold hard tile,tears streaming down your face, nose running, and your mouth is stuffed with laws long filthy dick. He viciously grabs your braids pulling you back, “Do it correctly whore” he seethes

“I-its t-too much” You say sniffling 

“I don't want to hear it bitch, you will take it all.” He says while slapping his slimy cock on your face then pushes you back onto his dick causing your eyes to roll back. You continue to suck on his dick, twirling your tongue around the tip. Using your hand to make up for the rest of his cock twisting it round and round. You look up to him with your big brown eyes pleading. And my oh my is he enjoying the view, your crystal teardrops flowing down your beautiful face, you breasts spilling out of your tank top, it's like a masterpiece to him.

He thrusts his dick more into your mouth causing you to choke, “You dirty lying bitch, saying you can't take it all, well look at you taking me in so well” he snickers. Seizing your head he pushes you back and forth, your mouth rocking against his cock, “you need to go faster, I'm getting bored up here” law says. Mindlessly you obey, rocking vigorously on his cock, gagging you go faster and faster taking him whole. He pulls your head once again and jerks your head in a smooth rhythm, your tongue rotating in a fluent pattern on his penis sending him into a state of unconsciousness. Without warning you feel his warm gooey cum shoot down your throat. You open your mouth, rejecting the feeling “Nuh uh don't even think about, swallow it all.” nodding eagerly you gulp it down, shivering from the weird sensation traveling down your esophagus. “Open wide” Law orders, obediently you do just that.

“Ah” You open your mouth wagging your tongue, he sticks his thumb inspecting your mouth.Your face was a wreck, saliva and drool smeared all across your face, nose running, stained trails of your tears.

“Good girl, now get on the chair and get on all fours for me”

Without a second to think, you remove your clothes leaving them on the floor, you jump onto the chair raising your plump ass in the air. (If yall are confused it like those chairs that can retract down like this)

“You filthy slut, your pussy is leaking like a goddamn faucet are you not ashamed?” Law whispers into your making you even wetter. Even when you had just met him, you were already so attracted to him. His deep rough voice, his tall figure, slim long fingers, and his tattoos crawling in every corner of his body. It was hard to keep your composure when he drew the tattoo on you, and now seeing him underneath his clothes was enough to send you over the edge. You have to admit this was definitely not how you imagined this night would go – poor Perona is probably already done with hers waiting for you in the lobby– but you can't say you're mad about it. 

Grazing his fingers across your already slimy clit pacing it back and forth teasing at your entrance. He slowly slips his lanky fingers into you, moving it slowly and steady taking in your warm embrace. Going in out into your melty cunt, preparing for his aching dick itching to enter you. Releasing his fingers a smooth ‘pop!’ sound pronouncing itself. Effortlessly he pulls on a condom, gears it straight towards your hole. Gradually, he inserts himself into you returning into that warm enclosure.

“Mmph” your eyes roll back at the fulfilling sensation of his cock into you, pulsing your cunt begging for more. You arch your back a little bit yearning for his whole dick.

“You're such a greedy bitch, arching your back like a greedy little slut. You want me so bad don't you?”

“Mhm” you mutter

“Nuh-uh use your words lil mama or else I won't be able to help you”

“I want it! Pleaseee”

“Good girl” law says in a rewarding tone then grabs your hips violently thrusting into you relentlessly showing no signs of slowing down. You reach the ends of the chair, trying to keep yourself supported from his endless stamina. “Im gonna fuck you so good, your pussy wont forget my dick.”Law grunts as he hits your g-spot repeatedly, it sends you over the edge, drooling spilling from your mouth, eyes rolled back beyond, brain turned to mush. You can't even speak, being an incoherent mess. 

“L-law, i-m gonna c-cumm” you mumble out disorderly a trail of spit spilling onto the chair.

“C'mon bitch, come on me like the dirty slut that you are” Law muttered. “Agh” ,without a second to waste your orgasm comes flowing through your body. You shudder at the sensation of it crashing down. Panting hard, Law continues until he himself releases into the condom.

You wake up with your whole body in shambles, ‘what the fuckkk’ you mutter to yourself. Trying to lift yourself up you feel a great surge of pain in your back. You look around the unfamiliar scenery to realize you're not in your bed, or not even Peronas?!?!? Panning your eyes down to the chair that you were sleeping in, the memories come back to you like a flood. “What the fuckkk” you say even louder, understanding the severity of the situation. Law enters the room with a towel. You stare at him in disbelief, you cannot believe what you have done.

“Don't worry about your friend, I sent her home already” Law winks

You raise your arm towards your forehead, hiding in shame of what you have done. You can hear Law chuckling in the background and you just wanna drown yourself.

#kristlewrites🫧🗯️ #blk!fem #black reader smut #one piece ff #trafalgar law smut #law x reader #law x black reader #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #law smut #Trafalgar smut #Law x black yn #law x yn #one piece law smut #one piece x reader #one piece x black!reader #trafalgar x blk reader #black reader #Trafalgar fanfiction #black writer #Trafalgar x black reader smut #one piece law #one piece black reader smut #one piece x yn #one piece x black yn #one piece x black yn smut #one piece law x black yn #one piece law x black yn smut #one piece law x yn

[corriganatheart]

His Maddest Desire Pt. II (He LOVES her, but she HATES him) Jude Bellingham x reader

Synopsis: She was the opposite of what he needed; the shadow that no one noticed but him. Since the beginning, Jude had always liked Y/N, and his feelings grew every time he saw her. His reputation as a womanizer only makes her question his intention and pushes him away, but that never stops him from chasing after what he wants.

Pairings: Jude Bellingham x fem! Reader

Genre: Forbidden romance x Enemies to Lovers x One-sided love x Dark Romance

Warnings ⚠️: Cursing, and mentions of sexual contents🔞

“That’s too short. Go change,” your brother immediately says as you step into his car. You look down at your skirt and realize it is much shorter than before, meaning you’ve either gained weight or your new shoes made you taller. “I can’t; this is my uniform,” you said. Rowan looks down at your legs and then your uniform jacket. “What is the point of making y’all wear jackets if your legs aren’t covered?”

You shake your head, “don’t ask me. Ask your parents,” Rowan rolls his eyes and puts on his seatbelt before leaving the gate. He was overprotective and a bit of a drama queen.

“You know, I remember the uniform being longer when I was still in high school,” he said, still not satisfied with the length of the skirt, despite you trying to pull it down a little. “It’s very dangerous for high schoolers to wear that.” You rolled your eyes, “Oh please; the security at our school is so strict even boys are scared to say hi to us.” Rowan laughs, “Well, they didn’t catch me when I was in the closets.” You groan and make a barfed face. “Too much information, bro!”

You sighed as your history teacher explained information you wouldn’t use in the future. High school was irrelevant; the whole school system was outside because people were getting all these degrees to learn more on the job. It makes no sense that people are required to get thousands of degrees to have to teach themselves or be trained once they get hired.

“Pssssh, Y/N,” your classmate behind you whispers. You ignore him and continue to look out of the window. If your parents didn’t run the school, maybe you’ll be more interested, but knowing that the teachers are too scared to give you a bad grade makes school irrelevant. “Are you going to invite us to your sister’s birthday?” He asked. You rolled your eyes and lay your head on the table; this was your life, a spoiled rich kid.

“Hey Y/N can we get tickets to BVB game?”

“Hey Y/N! How is Rowan?”

“Hit me up with your sister’s bday!”

You walk down the hallway with a book in your hand as you try to tune out the people around you. They all had a mission, and that was to attend your sister’s birthday. She had always been popular, especially with the male audience, and there was no way she would want a whole bunch of hormonal teenagers at their party. And besides, she barely noticed you, so there was no point in inviting someone.

“Isn’t she embarrassed to be wearing her skirt so short?”

“Her sister is way prettier than her”

“I heard she has been passed around by every football player”

“Ew, I hope she gets run over by a car”

You hear a group of girls laughing behind you as you quickly escape from the crowded hallway. You commonly hear people talking trash, mainly because you get a lot of attention. The girls in school barely liked you, let alone want to befriend you. If they did, it was because they wished for your brother or wanted to get close to your sister. There has never been someone that wanted to be your friend genuinely.

You slow down your pace when you finally reach the school gate. Patiently waiting for your brother, you look down at your shoes. They were platform heels that made you look taller and slimmer. Your mother started making you wear those in middle school when she realized you wouldn’t go past 5’6.

“Omg he’s so hot!

“Ahhhhhh!!!!”

“Omg it’s Jude Bellingham!”

Your heart immediately stops, and you look up from your shoes. Standing before you was Jude Bellingham in a black turtle neck and jeans. He looked lovely, leaning against his Jaguar car and staring at you intensely.

He smirked cockily when he saw your mouth gasp. The last thing you expected was for him to show up out of nowhere, let alone your school. “What are you doing here?” You asked while glancing at the crowd that started to gather. Jude shrugged, “Rowan got holdup.” You grit your teeth, wanting to strangle your brother immediately. He knew this would be on the news, and people would speculate about your relationship with Jude. Some obsessive fans would even go as far as tracking you down. “He couldn’t have set a driver?” You spat. Jude looks at you from head to toe, and he stops at your legs. “No,” he says. You sighed and decided it was best to get in the car before everyone started to go crazy.

Jude looked happy yet content as he drove. You see him constantly glancing at your thighs before he awkwardly shifts in his seat. He seemed uncomfortable, but If anything, you should be the one feeling uncomfortable, because this was your first time in a boy’s car.

“Isn’t that skirt a little too short?” He suddenly asked. You narrow your eyes and lay your backpack on your thighs. “Ok, Rowan, number 2. I have no control over the school’s uniform.”

Jude glared at you and gripped the steering wheel. “The boys could see up your ass if they tilt their head.” Why was he getting upset over the school’s dress code? If anything, he can go to his precious mother-in-law and complain to her instead of me. “Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?” You asked. Jude looked at you and shook his head, “no one wants to see their girl getting hit on by guys.”

His girl. That is what he sees and refers to you whenever you guys are alone. And you knew he would do that in public if you allowed him.

“I am no one’s. I have told you before Jude. WE DON'T FIT.”

You see his knuckles turn pale as he grips on his steering wheel. And instead of turning towards your street, he decided to turn the opposite. “What are you doing?” You asked, panicking as you looked back at your road. “I want to take you somewhere,” he says. Your heart starts to race. If he was to get caught with you, your brother and family would go nuts, and god knows what your sister would do. “Have you ever thought how bad it would look for you to be seen with me?” You asked angrily. Jude shrugs, “I like being seen with you.”

You groaned; it was so hard to argue with this boy. “Your career, your life, your relationships are at risk. I am not the biological daughter of the L/N family!” Jude frowned and just stared ahead angrily. He doesn’t respond nor care to listen to your pleading. The last thing you needed was for your parents to ground you or send you away. You have less than a month till graduation, and you’ll be going off to a university; you didn’t need Jude’s shit. “Jude, we can’t keep going like this,” you mumbled. “I hate you, and you hate-“

“Will you look at the view,” he interrupts you.

You look ahead to see that he is parked close to a cliff, and the city view and the sunset are right before you. It was beautiful, and this was the first time you’d seen the city outside your brother’s and your parent’s car. “You see the view?” He asked. You look at him, and he smiles, “It could be ours if you just say yes.”

You gulped and looked away, scared to face him because you might have the temptation. “I know you want this to Y/N,” he said as he carefully took your hand. “You’ve nothing to worry about. I want this more than you think, and you want this more than you believe.” Your heart starts to race as he slowly caresses your face gently. “No one understands how this feels, and no one needs to. It’s just you and me, baby.” You hold the hand caressing your face, and he brings your forehead together. “I will do anything for you. I would hurt the world for you. I have loved-“

Jude pauses when you immediately cringe at the sound of your phone ringing. The ringtone was explicitly set for your brother, and your heart beats rapidly causing you to return to reality. “Hello, Rowan,” you answered, and Jude rolled his eyes. “No, we are coming,” you said and signaled Jude to start driving, which he frustratedly did. “No, I’m not doing anything weird; what do you take me as?” You asked. You hear the suspension in Rowan’s voice as he questions why the ride takes thousands of hours. “Whatever, your, not his type anyway,” your brother said casually before he hangs up. You look at Jude, who seems incredibly frustrated at the situation. You don’t know how long it’ll take him to realize that this was for the best, but a sickening part of you hopes that he never does.

It has been days, weeks, and almost a month since you have seen Jude. And yes you were counting because although you try not to be aware of him, every day you longed for him. You were terrible for him as he was bad for your heart, but still, the heart wants what it wants.

“The theme is Bridgerton,” your mother says as she passes your sister a photo. Your sister nods before she reviews the party scene. “You will be dressed as the Diamond of the season,” your mother said. You looked up from your book and stared at the color scheme. It was a bit dull for your sister’s taste, and she really didn’t want the theme to be historical.

“Rowan suggested Jude be your escort,” your mother exclaimed as she smile at the pictures on the table. Anastasia sighed and looked over the many pictures laid on the table. “But I wanted Marcus to be my escort,” she said.

You examine the way your sister nervously fidget with the pictures as she tries not to blow up. Although you never bonded with Anastasia, you knew she was going through something similar to what you were going through. She was Ms. Perfect, and she didn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially her parents. “No. You’re the season's diamond; you must be with someone in your league. Marcus is nowhere near that,” your mother harshly said.

You bite your lower lips, trying to hold back from inserting yourself into the conversation. “Mother, I think Jude would like to bring his own date,” Anastasia says. Your mother folds her arms and stares at your sister disappointedly. “Don’t tell me you have feelings for that Marcus Rashford!”

“Mother, please,” you begged as you stared at your sister’s frightening form. “Y/N, stay out of this!” Your mother warns.

You immediately shut down and stood up before walking out of the room. It was no use trying to argue with the lady of the house. If she had her mind set on Anastasia being with Jude, then that’s what she’ll get.

“That sounded fun,” Rowan pops out of his office and smirks. You roll your eyes at him and continue to walk down the hall as he follows. “Where are you going, little sis?” Rowan asked while trying to grab ahold of your arm. “None of your business, brother,” you said sternly and turned to the library. Rowan follows you into your family’s library and whistles at the numerous books on the table and floor. “You got a shit load of time,” he mumbled as he scanned the books you’ve read.

You ignored his comment and sat near the window with your current read. It was awfully quiet today due to the absence of your father and his workers. Rowan also stayed home more often than usual, and lately, he has been nosy about your life. “What do you think?” Rowan asked. You look up from your page to see him grab a couple of romance novels. “What about them?” You asked, annoyed that he was still here. “Do you prefer a one-sided crush or someone being obsessed with you?” He asked. You frown and look outside at the garden where you always watched Jude play. “I rather keep my feelings inside,” you said. “Less hurts.”

Your brother hums, and you shake yourself out of the image of Jude. He has been filling your mind since that day he dropped you off, and you wanted nothing but to see him. “Jude is taking mom’s request of having Anastasia’s hand,” Rowan says as he flips through pages. Your brain immediately stops, and your heart starts speeding like it was trying to catch its last breath. You knew this day would come, but you weren’t expecting this reaction. It was hard to think about it, and now it was happening.

Rowan also knew something was up, or else he wouldn’t have asked. Although he was an asshole, your brother was smart enough to know the dynamic between his best friend and his little sister. “And how do you feel about that?” You asked. Your brother drops the book on the table and smirks, “I like it.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror; amazed by how delicate, and elegant you looked.

Your mother picked out a beige dress for you and have you style your hair in an updo with flower decoration. She was pleased with the way you looked when she walked out of your bedroom, and you knew she had something up her sleeve, something that you’ll hate.

“We’ll don’t you look dashing little Y/N,” your brother says as he leans against your bedroom door with a glass of champagne in his hands. You rolled your eyes and look at him through the mirror, “I can assure you, it’s all thanks to mother.”

Rowan smirks and starts walking towards you, causing the hair dresser, stylist, and the other staff to giggle and whisper about how good he looks. Rowan stops a couple of inches behind you, and caress your shoulders, “tonight, you’ll be my date,” he whispers in your ear. A cold shiver immediately runs down your spine as you stare into his eyes. It looked dark, cold, and almost sinister. “Your mother would not like that Rowan,” you said sternly. He chuckles deeply, “I am mother’s dearest, she’ll like anything I like.”

You hid behind the concrete pole again as you peeked at your family, greeting the guest. Your mother looked incredibly gorgeous with her green dress and her brunette hair, which was also styled in a curled updo. Your father, who you haven’t seen in months, looked like he hadn’t aged a bit. His black locks were slick back, and his black suit fitted him perfectly. He looked intimidating, like he was ready to harm anyone who didn’t belong in this room.

Your eyes continue to scan the room, looking for a certain someone, but he is nowhere to be found. But you did spot Trent, Kylian, and Rowan, who were unapologetically checking out girls and gossiping in their circle.

“We have to stop bumping into each other like this, L/N,” a soft, husky voice said. You immediately recognize the voice and turn around to see Marcus Rashford. He was wearing a navy blue suit and looked incredibly handsome. Your heart softened, feeling relief that it was him and not someone else. “Indeed, we need to stop,” you chuckled. He smiles and glares over at the direction you were looking at, “I see your brother is still popular amongst footballers,” he says. You nod your head, “yes, he seems to attract them often.” Marcus chuckles and then looks over at your mom, who obviously did not like the woman she was talking to. “Your mother request that I don’t show up,” he mumbles, “but Anastasia would be pissed.” You glanced at the way he looked when he mentions your sister. It was a bit of sadness and loneliness and you aren’t sure what to think of his feelings towards her. “I think she would appreciate a dance with you,” you said. Marcus doesn’t respond but instead smiles down at you, like he was avoiding the subject. “I was going to ask you to save me the first dance,” he said and reaches for your hand. “If you would allow me.” You smile softly, appreciating his gentle touch, “of course Marcus.” He smiles and kisses your palm, before excusing himself.

Everyone was anticipating for your sister’s arrival as you go from one dessert plate to another. Although you really didn’t want to be here, at least you’ll get to eat food that made up for your lack of nutrition.

“What a surprise; I rarely get to see you anymore.”

You froze at the sound of the voice, and turned to see Jobe Bellingham smirking down at you with a plate full of desserts.

“Hey princess,” he says cheekily.

You smile, surprised by his presence, which is very rare.

Jobe became friends with you after his brother introduced the two of you. He also went to your school, but about a year ago, he got signed and had to switch to online schooling.

The two of you get along just fine; mainly because there was only a year age difference and because he stood up for you at school.

“Jobe, what the heck!” You exclaimed and immediately put your plate down and basically lunge yourself at him. “I miss you too Y/N,” he says and pulls you into a very tight hug.

At the corner of your eyes, you can see your brother and his friends whispering and glaring at the two of you. A couple of feet where their standing, Marcus was talking to people while also staring your way. “Your brother’s staring isn’t he?” Jobe whispered in your ears. You giggle and nodded your head, causing him let out a chuckle.

The two of you then broke the hug and stepped away from the dessert and the crowd.

"So, how is life treating you?" he asked while guiding you down the hallway where the two of you used to chase one another. "Same old same old," you shrugged. Jobe smiles and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, "what about my brother?" he asks. You tensed up, looked down at the floor, and then glanced at the wallpaper. "He's going to be my sister's fiance," you mumbled. Jobe chuckles and shakes his head, "You know, I always wondered why you never give him a chance," he says, "but after growing up and experiencing fame, I can only imagine how challenging it must be."

You smile and stop in the middle of the hallway. You turned to Jobe, who was already smiling down at you. "I'm so happy you are back," you said, brushing your palm against his cheek. Jobe grins cheekily, and you realize how much of a difference his height was, compared to yours. He was no longer the middle schooler from years ago. "For now," he winks. You laughed, flushing from the warm and familiar feeling of childhood happiness. "I hate your stupid ass," you said and playfully hit his chest. "Nah, you love me," he shrugged.

Smiling, you were about to make a cheesy comment until the both of you heard someone clearing their throat. You turned to your right to see your sister wearing the most beautiful pink gown you have ever seen. She looked beautiful in her curled updo and light makeup. She was the definition of beauty and brain and the most elegant face the world had ever seen. "What are you two laughing about?" she asked curiously, looking between you and Jobe. "Just catching up," Jobe responded. Your sister looks at you sternly and then smiles at Jobe.

As she converses with Jobe, your eyes stare at the arms she is holding. Without even looking, you already knew who it was. You can feel his eyes on you already, examining, judging, and questioning your motives. Your heart races as you go from his arms to his eyes. The moment your eyes meet his black ones, your heart skips, jumps, aches, and all the emotions held inside explode.

It has been so long since you last saw him that you wanted to take him in. And you aren't the only one affected by this because Jude was doing the same thing. He was taking you in from head to toe, ensuring he got all the details. Although he was still, his eyes were moving everywhere, from your dress to your hair, to your exposed neck, then your lips, then your eyes, and then your lips again. He roamed everywhere, forgetting that his date was the most beautiful woman alive.

"Are you two partners?" your sister asked while eyeing you. Jude immediately looks at his brother, whose eyes widened like he was guilty. "Nope! I got my own date!"

You rolled your eyes at Jobe's cowardness and returned to your sister's judging eyes. "We were just catching up," you shrugged. And immediately, you saw satisfaction in her eyes before she tightened her hold on Jude's arms. "Well, the guest is expecting me, so we all should go back to the ballroom and do the first dance," your sister smiled. Jude looks down at her and smiles; he then brushes the strand of her on her face and tucks it behind her ears. You knew he only did that to cause a reaction out of you, but you weren't going to show any signs of jealousy. "Of course, I am looking forward to our first dance," he says.

You glance away from the scene, feeling two pairs of eyes on you. Jude can get into your brain and heart, but he doesn't know. He thinks you are playing hard to get and that you might actually hate him. But if only he knew how much he affected you and how he means to you. But he can never know because the two of you just don't fit. "I heard our brother volunteered to be your date sister," Anastasia said. Jude stares down at you and then glances over at his brother, who is quite entertained by the scene. "Actually, yes, Rowan is my date, but as you can see, he is nowhere to be found," you said frustratedly. Anastasia chuckles and lays her head on Jude's arm, "Well, I guess you just have to watch us dance."

Jude smirks down at her, and your heart drops from how he looks at her; it is almost like he enjoys her presence. "Y/N, maybe we should just go," Jobe steps in and grabs your elbow. "I apologize, Mr. Bellingham, but I believe Ms. L/N promised me her first dance."

Your sister's eyes widened after realizing who just spoked. Jude's jaw tenses as he stares at the person. You turned around to see Marcus walking towards you, not looking at anyone else but you. "I was looking for you," he smiles and holds out his elbow. You immediately elope your hands around his arms and smile, internally thanking him for saving the day. "Sorry, Jobe, but I asked her first," Marcus says. Jobe grins, enjoying the upcoming drama that was about to take place. "Nope, she's all yours," he said cheekily.

Without another word or glance, Marcus Rashford guided you back to the ballroom while two angry pairs of eyes were staring at your back.

@meadowpond @btamms @laylaynaynay130 @lanussysworld @o0sportbike0o @gimmefood @yongboksfreckles @lalunaenamoradasworld @xjval @berriesarenice @soup1752862 @forjudebellingham @chacomieiteecafe @fayypooh1 @urmotheris

@footballbroadcast @aryy-23 @noodle81937 @lestappenbaee @tzuyuzzs @his-girlllll

#soccer #footballer imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham one shot #england nt imagine #bellingham

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

It was one hot day in California, June 13th, 2023. I was packing my stuff while he slept peacefully, as if nothing was happening around him. I had to wake him up, if not then he’d resent me for the rest of his life. I opened the blind right beside our bed, letting the sunlight enter aggressively and making him slowly open his eyes and speak groggily.

“Baby— what’re you doing?” He spoke as he was still lying in bed, I sat besides him and started putting some small stuff from my nightstand inside my velvet box.

I dreaded to say this for a long time, I wasn’t an insensitive or cruel woman, if I could I would like to take pain away from the world but we had reached my breaking point and not any kind of reconciliation would work now. I took a deep breath and turned my head harshly towards him and said the words that would torture me forever.

“I’m leaving.”

——————————————————

All my life I’ve been going back and forth between México and L.A, it’s been my two homes since I can remember. I was born to a new formed family, my mother met my dad when she already had a baby which was my sister, and since then my parents had two more kids.

I’ve always dreamt of being an actress, ever since my father forced me to watch ‘Viva Las Vegas!’ and ‘King Creole’ with him. For two years, my innocent little me actually believed Elvis was still alive and somehow young, so my dream was to act besides him. I cried hours when my older sister told me Elvis had died decades ago.

My parents always told me that acting was a waste of time and that I wouldn’t make it, not because I wasn’t talented but because out there, there were people that were the same or even more talented than me.

But somehow, I was making it, I had my debut when I was 14 years old and since then I was constantly booked— I adored doing any sort of horror movies, I was a scream queen if you know what I mean.

Once I turned 18 years old, my career was stable, I wasn’t no A-Lister but people at least recognized me, that’s when I was invited to a party, which obviously— my parents didn’t want me to go, they were very strict when it came to permissions, specially when those permissions involved other actors.

“You want us to let you go to a party with other actors?” My mom asked rhetorically as we were setting the table for dinner.

“Absolutely not.” My father interrupted firmly, he was quite strict.

“It’s the weekend, why can’t I go? I’ll be with Elle and her sister.” Hollywood was separated from my family life, my parents didn’t like hearing about actors or nothing, just me and my movies.

“Who are those people, we don’t know them. So no.” My mother was harsh whenever she wanted to, and I get now their distress of being adamant to not let me go to that party, I wish I had listened to them.

I was a girl that was sheltered all her life, so with a sigh and pout I walked to my room, mumbling some cuss words as I knew it would be difficult to convince them.

Surprisingly, Elle and Dakota convinced them, Dakota was older, she had been an adult for quite some time and she knew how Hollywood worked. Freaking out I waited for the day and picked up something from my closet, which now seemed to be all wrong in the eyes of an excited me.

Vintage clothing, go-go boots, Mary Jane heels. I chose something I could work with. I chose a 60s baby blue dress, it only reached mid my thighs so I knew it was good, I grabbed some blue heels too and for my hair I went all out as always, I liked the 60s, my fashion icons were women from that era so I teased my hair to the high heavens, creating a bouffant, my makeup was also heavy around the eyes, black eyeliner and two pairs of falsies, I liked it. I smiled once I saw myself in the mirror, this was me.

The party was surprisingly chill, nothing like the parties I heard about so I was comfortable but I stuck out like a sore thumb, I started to regret going all in on my own style until I saw him. Long blond hair, tall, blue eyes, perfect nose and he was wearing black pants and a white tee. I recognized him immediately, not only was he Hudgens’ ex but he was also the guy that was on one of my favorite movies: Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure.

We stared at each other for some long minutes, until he finally got closer to me.

“Hey— I know ya. You’re the girl from that movie about the psychotic grandparents.” He said playfully, he pushed his hair back.

“I am. Cynthia.” I extended my hand shyly and he accepted it, shaking it and squeezing it a little bit. I was not a fan of the long hair but he looked handsome enough.

Austin knew my age but there’s no problem on asking, once he knew I was legal enough, he hit it off right away. Austin couldn’t help but eye my whole look which made me think he was judging me.

“I like your dress.” Austin laughed. Feeling embarrassed, I snapped at him.

“I don’t even even know why I decided to wear this stupid dress and stupid hair today!” I snapped harshly, which only made him laugh.

“Little girl has some spunk.” He joked which made me feel even more embarrassed after snapping at him.

“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes playfully. He was 7 years older, for some reason he acted as if he was 20 years my senior.

Since that night, we both started seeing each other. He was my first real boyfriend— I think he liked that, he liked the idea of teaching me what love was, he felt that responsibility.

My parents weren’t at all okay with my relationship, for some reason they said that no relationship with an actor could ever turn right. Once again I wish I had listened to them. He trusted me enough to talk about his late mom with me, when we were in his room after an hour of being intimate or whatever we were doing.

“I wish my mom could’ve met you. She would’ve really liked you.” Austin whispered to me in full confidence, he felt like I was the kind of gal his mother always wanted for him, not someone like Vanessa.

“I wish I could’ve met her too.” I whispered back to him softly, I hated seeing him with tears in his eyes while he talked about his mom because I didn’t know how to comfort him.

“She was my whole world… my mama.” Austin rubbed his eyes and sniffed some tears, I tried cuddling closer to him.

Take my advice here: never date a mama’s boy.

“Why you? Why can’t he go back to dating women older than him? You’re only 18.” My mom nagged me, sometimes I felt bad because not only did she have to worry about me but also for my younger sibling, who were barely even teenagers.

“He’s not like you imagine, mami.” I tried excuses for my relationship, they didn’t even know him that well to judge him.

“Oh really? He’s just another damn white actor. Tu crees que tu papá va a dejar que te cases con alguien cómo Austin? (Do you think your father will allow you to marry someone like Austin?)”

I stayed silent, marriage had not been discussed by Austin and I, we were still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. I was happy— we were happy. Out first Valentine Day’s was amazing and it made things finally official to everyone. Austin gave me this beautiful locket with his picture inside, great gift.

I think he also liked that things were pretty much private between us, I barely posted him on my Instagram since he barely posted me on his, he liked that I wasn’t loud, bitching and moaning about our relationship.

“Should I marry her?” Austin asked his older sister, Ashley, who was engaged herself.

“I don’t know, Aus. She’s not your type.” Ashley never really liked me, she was weirdly a Trump supporter and well— it’s not like Trump was the most inclusive person.

“She’s exactly my type, she’s not bossy or loud. She’s a brunette— well I would rather her being more natural and drop the jet black hair. But she’s exactly what I want.” Austin said.

“You do whatever you want, just remember that marriage ties you down. Don’t let her cut your wings.”

I was 19 years old— marriage was the last thing on my mind. I was happy with my career and surely acting in more stuff gave me more fame and people started to recognize me more. But every action has its consequences and not wrapping it before tapping it caught up to us.

Have you guys heard of shotgun weddings? Well us was in some way. But the wedding should be another part of this.

So, this is the beginning. Austin will be kind of an asshole just cause his behavior is kinda inspired by Elvis.

#Spotify #austin butler imagine #austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #elvis presley #priscilla presley #elvis and me

[intheorangebedroom]

Hey orange besties 🧡

Here's the one thing none of you asked for but I'm giving you anyway!! Listen, Halloween is my favourite holiday and I'd do just about anything rather than start working on my WIP because it terrifies me.

So here's the most indulgent headcanon EVER, please feel free to scroll past this nonsense of a post, but not before I could wish you all a very spooky Halloween 🧡

Yes, I have no shame.

Explicit HC below the cut 🔞

This Halloween, you've convinced Frankie to host a party at your place. He was really the first surprise, you're not exactly the party type, yet here you are.

You’ve been on Pinterest looking up aesthetics and recipes since August, basically, you've spent an inordinate amount of money on fancy decorations, stocked up enough candy to give all the kids in the tristate area a stomach ache of biblical proportions, and it's finally happening, today is the day, this is your version of the American dream.

But what will you and your friends dress up as???

Rosie

For years, the two of you have had an ongoing argument about what constitutes a proper Halloween costume. To you, it’s either crafty and creative, or spooky if not disgusting. To her… Let’s say she’s explored all the slutty options out there.

This year, the debate resumes as early as September. Only this time, you outsmart her, challenging her to look sexy despite a plain horror get up.

Never one to retreat, always one to excel, Rosie chooses to dress up as Candyman. With the fur and the hook and the scarf, down to the fake bees painted on the left side of her face. And yes, she still is smouldering hot as all hell.

Will

Will? Dressing up? Fucking hell, why are you doing this to him? He’s a grown ass man. He was a warrior, for fuck’s sake. He’s not gonna go around and spend money on a fucking costume!

But. He’ll be damned if he’s the only one who doesn’t play along. He can probably whip up something with whatever he’s got in his closet, anyway. Like…. Motorcycle gang leader, for example.

(at this point, orange besties, I’m cackling in French).

Yovanna

Yovanna. Understood. The assignment. Obviously because she’s hands up the smartest one of all the TF bunch.

She dresses up as the Corpse Bride. Your jaw drops to the floor when you open the door. She's stealing the show and it is fine. You’ve no idea how she can look this at ease with all that heavy makeup covering her skin, but she looks like she's having a hell of a good time, oh and also SHE'S FUCKING STUNNING.

Pope

Pope could have made an effort and go as Victor, right? He should have. Did he, though? No. No he didn't.

Pope dresses up as Miguel O'Hara from Across The Spider-Verse, so he can slither into this tight af costume and strut his butt like a Spidey slut.

Tom

Kidding. Tom's not invited. But if he were...

Benny

Sweet, sweet Benny, our sunshine boy, our precious blond gem of a baby man…

Benny considered not coming at all. Not that he's not over you yet, come on, let's be serious, it's been over two years. He's totally over you. He’s slept with at least a dozen different women since you broke up and his friendship with Frankie is on the mend, so yeah, over you and beyond, thank you very much. Ok, he'll go, then. Besides... he wants to see you. Just to make sure he’s really over you. What could possibly go wrong?

A horror classic connoisseur, his first idea is to dress up as something overly sublte. Say… Tom Conway in the 1942 Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People, for instance. Only because it would be obscure enough for people to ask him about it, which would give him a good opportunity to show off his impressive... cinematic knowledge. Not at all because you and the director share the same last name. Of course not. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’d probably be the only one in the room able to identify the costume. Argh fuck, he can’t go as Tom Conway in the 1942 Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People, can he? 

Fine. He’ll play it safe. Mainstream. Mike Meyers. But Mike Meyers with a twist: the kid version. 

What he does not anticipate, is how many times he gets asked if he’s that stupid Pennyclown from It. Doesn’t anyone have any fucking classic culture?? It’s winding him up real bad and he’s starting to think he’ll leave early, until you walk up to him with a shy smile and a tall glass of beer. 

“You make a real good baby Meyers, Benjamin,” you whisper, and it's the first words you've spoken to him all night. Of course you knew, of course you’re the only one who guessed, and he wants to say something smart but he can’t, he’s riveted to the floor, melting under your soft gaze. You lift your arm, as if reaching for him and for a split second, he thinks you’re gonna run your fingers through his hair like you used to, and his heart does this lurching thing, like it simultaneously shrinks and explodes in his chest, and fuck him. He’s not over you yet.

(maybe I’m not over him either 👀)

Meanwhile… Meanwhile, Frankie's watching the whole scene from the kitchen. Ticking jaw, sucking on his teeth, vein popping in his neck. 

But what did Frankie dress up as, you ask. If you're still reading this, that is.

Frankie

Well, Frankie’s not exactly big on Halloween. For one, he grew up in a household full of ghosts. The candy sure was a perk, as a kid, but he’s always enjoyed savoury food more than sweets. Later, Izzy would let him tag along to the parties she went to (not that her mother left her much choice, anyway), and those were fun, admitedly. There was always alcohol, but most importantly, ✨girls✨ Girls who would never fail to find Izzy’s baby brother oh so cute with his soft curls and his golden skin and his lovely dimples and he’d spend the entire evening passing from one set of arms to another set of hands, which suited him juuuuust fine.

However, the man now has an actual body count, so he’s not too keen on the notion of the dead coming back to haunt the living for one night…

But thewhole thing makes you so damn happy. In the end, it doesn’t matter if he has to fend off an entire army of undead.

Unlike Pope, whatever your choice of outfit may be, he’ll get behind you. You wanna be Lydia Deetz? He’ll be your Beetlejuice. He’ll be the Gomez to your Morticia, the John Bartlett to your Patricia Bradley. 

This year, you announce most enthusiastically, you want to be Frankenstein’s Bride. 

Alright, baby!

And let's just say this: he makes it very, very difficult for you to be a good host to your guests. How on god’s wretched earth can he be this incredibly sexy as Frankenstein's creature??

Not only is he good with the kids, patient and gentle and cracking dad jokes with each group of little monsters and Elsas and cowboys eagerly standing on your doorstep, but that jacket… That damn jacket he got himself, three sizes too small, fuck, that poor jacket is working hard ALL NIGHT trying to contain his breadth, the seams just as strained around his shoulders as your poor clenching cu– 

Oh and you’ve no idea where he found that headband with the bolts on each side, but you don’t really care because he’s slicked black his hair and it's curling thick and luscious on his nape and you can’t wait for every one to get the hell out of your place. 

You’re gonna go down on him the minute the last guest leaves your house, take him down your throat and show him just how grateful to him you are for playing along so well. Watch that handsome, pretty, pretty face, that the green makeup and fake scars can't even spoil, go slack when you suck on his balls and swallow his spend. 

And you almost get to do it. If it wasn’t for that tiny little misstep. The sultry teasing words you pour into his neck, halfway through the party. When you tell him that what you truly wanted to dress up as was Margarita at the Midnight Ball. And Francisco’s eyes grow dangerously dark and wide and wild, pupils shot open with lust, because he knows what this means. And what this means is stark naked. 

And sure enough, he has barely closed the door behind the last guest that Frankie turns around and orders you to "Take off those fucking clothes. Now."

His tone brooks exactly zero argument. You comply at the speed of light before he shoves you onto the couch and kneels on the floor between your spread thighs, and it's very obvious, very fast, that you are his Halloween candy.

He keeps your ass balanced on the edge of the sofa and your back pressed into the soft cushions, thick fingers digging into the dips of your hips to hold you still with a welcome, bruising hold. 

His mouth feels like lava, liquid and hot as he licks into you like a starved man, broad sloppy stripes through your dripping folds, tongue dipping to feast on your slick like his sole purpose down there is to drink you dry. 

And when he wants more, because it’s never enough, he fastens his plush lips around your pulsating clit and plays it with the curled up tip of his tongue, two fingers hooked inside your cunt and pulling on that fucking spot with the same deftness with which he used to pull the trigger, and you give him more, give him everything he wants, you leak straight into his mouth, you’ve lost track of time somewhere after your third orgasm. 

There’s green makeup smeared all over your inner thighs, rivulets of black tears streaking your once ghostly pale cheeks. Sweat’s pooling in the small of your back and damp locks of hair are glued to your temples and forehead. 

You're a writhing mess, nearly slipping out of consciousness when he grabs your waist and flips you around, rough and urgent. 

With that easy strength that makes you light-headed, he pulls you downward, kneeling you down between his folded legs, your back flush to his chest, you’re moulded into him, and by the time you register the change in position, he’s already lining himself up. 

It’s no longer than a split second before he all but impales you on his length. It’s too sudden and the stretch downright painful, and you cry a strangled cry of his name but it's soundless, there’s no more air in your lungs, he’s fucked all the oxygen out of there. 

“How are you so fucking tight,” he says, his voice sounds strained, and he starts fucking up into you, absolute, merciless, the pace is punishing and you’ve gone blind with the stretch. 

It’s too fast, too deep, too fucking thick. Your spine goes stiff as a metal rod as you try to get away from it but you can’t, one hand is clutching your throat and his other arm’s banded around your waist. You’re helpless, nails digging into his flesh, crushed against his sweaty torso and he keeps sliding your rigid body down onto his impossibly thick cock at this impossibly fast pace, hips hammering your ass, lewd and loud, slap slap slap. 

And he knows, he feels you trying to recoil. The flat of his tongue licks up the column of your throat and it’s a sharp bite on your earlobe, and a low grunt in your ear, “I'm not gonna last long,” and you relent, you slump down into his hold and let him give you what he needs you to take. 

“Good girl”, he pants, and what do you know? You feel another one coming. 

Oh but this one’s deep and violent, it’s building tense and heavy into your core like a burning fist gripping your insides right behind your navel, and if it wasn’t for his own grunts, you’d hear the pathetic mewl you let out when it explodes in your breasts. 

The frantic clench and clutch of your cunt around his length is more than enough to tip him over. He rams his pulsating cock into you one last time before he starts to grind, so forceful his hipbones are biting into your ass, pushing further inside you to bury his come as far up your body as possible, up to your fucking cervix, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his rumbling growl. 

When he stills, finally, he doesn’t unwrap his arms. Doesn’t loosen his embrace. Instead, he draws your body with his when he slouches backward, his broad shoulders hitting the coffee table.

Limp, spent, blissfully used, you lay on top of him, his length sheathed inside your warmth, your chest heaving along with his chest. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. 

He nuzzles the crown of your hair, gentle again. 

“Happy Halloween, baby.”

****

HAPPY HALLOWEEN ORANGE BESTIES!!! HAVE FUN WITH THE DEAD AND STAY SAFE 🎃💀🧡

#the pilot™️ #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #pleased to meet you #HAPPY HALLOWEEN #pleased to meet you headcanon #yovanna #benny miller #ben miller #will miller #william ironhead miller #santiago pope garcia #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x ofc #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal #triple frontier fanfiction #adria arjona #rosario dawson #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #oscar isaac

[sketchfanda]

Kirishima’s Mystique:Price to Pay

Being a pro hero was never an easy line of work certainly and that wasn’t just taking into account the risks involved dealing with super crooks, nevermind homicidal villains and freakish genetic abominations. One of the biggest non-hazard issues had to the matter regarding collateral damage, many didn’t want to risk a repeat of the near fiasco that occurred for American pro hero Mr.Incredible after all. In his defence that guy he saved from committing suicide was being a petty ingrate but at least it was avoided, but all the same, it was an unspoken rule that you cause the wrong kind of damage! You’d better be ready to set it right.

For our resident hard headed redhead of course, he was seriously wishing he could turn back time and get out of such a situation he found himself in. Really who could blame the poor guy as he was currently bowing and kneeling low as one could before one very pissed off, swimsuit clad orange haired bombshell, apologising best he could but knowing it’d be in vain. After all you don’t go and trash an entire yacht belong to the one and only Ms.Nami, former international pirate and cat burglar, renowned cartographer and navigator and glamour model. No sir, Kirishima knew his goose was cooked and she was going to get her compensation one way or another.

it’d been a routine enough type of mission, pursuing a crook who was using their quirk for unlawful purposes with the chase having been taken right into a harbour. It’d been expected that there would be collateral, so of course a few old rusty tubs or a warehouse getting wrecked was fine but then the guy brought them right to where a high class quality luxury yacht had been docked. That was when it all went to hell when the owner herself returned to find her little ocean based home away from home severely damaged and messed up after he’d finished securing the renegade for capture. The moment Eijiro recognised her on sight and the livid beyond belief expression on her face, he knew he was fucked.

Kirishima:”Please miss, I know I said I’m sorry enough and I definitely can’t afford the repairs, but I promise you on my honour as a hero and a man to make it up to you!!”*The chivalrous himbo declared, swearing he’d do whatever it took to set things right with Nami, least enough she wouldn’t sue for everything he, UA and HPSCA was worth. She was a very influential woman with some potent connections snd economic influence that matched her quite boner inducing. Seriously she was sexy as hell even when angry, not that he’d say that out loud to her. He wasn’t Mineta after all and he was in deep hot water enough as is.*

Nami:*Her chestnut coloured eyes glaring at Kirishima with enough intensity to match a laser, she processed his words and thought them over. As pissed off as she was, she still had enough sense to see a good opportunity presenting itself when she saw it.*”So you’d be willing to do anything then? Alright musclehead, I think I have a way you can work off your debt…follow me…”*Snapping her fingers as she had the sturdy hero trailer after her inside to the inner decks of her yacht that hadn’t been wrecked. A mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a sly grin as she could feel the himbo try not to stare at her glorious backside and fail.*

Nami was sexy and she knew it, so nothing she enjoyed as much as money was having the attention of a man on her she had to say Kirishima was more than easy on the eyes. Feeling his own crimson red peepers glued to her swimsuit clad rear as she added a little sway and sashay, tempted to twerk and make those thing devouring booty cheeks clap. A bounce in her playful rep as her boobs jiggled before they soon came to the servants quarters, entering inside as she opened a closet and fished out a butler’s outfit and handed it to him. Making it clear she wanted him to strip and change into it as she decided he would work off his debt by catering to her on hand and foot for as long as need be until they were square and even.

When Eijiro began to do just that of course, Nami couldn’t help but feel herself getting tingly in all the right places as inches and acres of sculpted, training honed and carved muscle was revealed to her. Sensually licking her lips as he carefully laid out the uniform and stood clad in a pair of tight spat boxers which highlighted quite a well toned ass and felt her thighs become warm and sticky from the flow of arousal pouring forth from her snatch. He was certainly dashing in his hero outfit but seeing him near naked like this was reminding Nami how bad a dry spell she had been having recently, now she was staring to have a different idea in mind for how he could work off his debt to her. One that would scratch her itch and prove to be much more fun for the both of them as she walked up behind him, hugging his waist as her arms wrapped around it and she pressed her here,r against his back in a way she knew he would feel the weight of her soft, plump titties.

Nami:*Purring as she whispered into his ear sensually and seductively, her hot breath on his skin making him tingly as she caressed the crotch of his boxer shorts. Erotically biting her lip as she felt the raw size contained within.*”Mmm, you know on second thoughts, I think I have a better idea for how you can work and lay off your debts to me. One that I think is going to be much more fun for the both of us…..”*Emphasising her point as she slid her hand down the waistband of his spats, her palm and fingers now directly groping snd grasping his length and girth. Panting and gasping as she felt her arousal skyrocket at the idea of tastin snd feeling this slab of meat.*

Kirishima:”W-well, when you put it that way, can’t see a reason to say no….”*Hell given the choice between go knows how many days and weeks being a butler to cover the yacht’s repair costs vs indulging in Nami’s sudden sexual thirst? It was clear which was the better option as he turned his head to allow Nami to press her lips to his, their tongues dancing together with sloppy desire as the glamour model moaned wantonly. The sturdy stud moving to sit on the edge of the bed, their liplock breaking with a strand of saliva between them as Nami knelt on the floor and pulled down his boxers. Gasping with delight as his cock sprang forth, smacking and resting on her face as she breathed in his manly scent.*

Nami couldn’t help but drool as lust flowed within her eyes, an erotic blush in her smiling face as she relished the sight and feel of such a slab of meat before her. Grasping it in her hands as she began to stroke and jerk him off, feeling it’s pulse as it grew erect with desire and proceeded to plant licks and kisses from top to base. Sucking, kissing and licking his balls before commencing with fellatio as she outright suffocated herself on his shaft as her chestnut eyes looked up at her newfound sex friend with devotion and delight. His groans and gasps of pleasure music to her ears before she popped her mouth off of his length and girth, giggling at the adorable pout he made finding his drool soaked cock deprived of her oral pleasure.

Only for her to proceed to ambush him with her personal patented “Happiness Punch” as she unclamped her swimsuit top snd undid the binding strings of her thong, letting them fall off as she took delight in his reaction. A gobsmacked reaction that contrasted with his twitching, pulsing lubed up cock as the tangerine haired hottie gave a sultry moan and licked her lips while cupping snd jiggling her magnificent titties in her hands. Which she followed through with sandwiching his shaft between those twin mounds as she began to trope and jerk him off with a marshmallow massage as she gave him a titfuck. Licking, kissing and sucking what was exposed from the valley of her glorious cleavage as he pumped and thrusted his hips out of instinct and reflect as her tongue’s tastebuds were dazzled by the taste of his flowing pre.

Nami had thought things were going well so far but the next thing she knew, it was getting even better as she suddenly found herself on the bed, head and shoulders on the mattress as she clutched the bedsheets for dear life. Her deepthroated moans echoing through the room as Kirishima her torso at a 90 degree angle, her legs spread as Kirishima had returned the favour for her blowjob titfuck combo by eating her out as his tongue plunged snd probed the moist folds of her snatch. Drinking up the flow of her nectar as he showed he was as good at giving back what he got, setting Nami’s nerves ablaze with spine tingling, mind numbing pleasure and ecstasy before he suddenly ambushed by penetrating her with his length and girth. Her vision flashing white as she was hit with an intense orgasm from the sudden invasion, inches of womb hammering, pussy stretching meat sinking in until he has bottomed out balls deep.

It was then and then Nami found her world being rocked as Kirishima proceeded to fuck her in a piledriver position, working her like some erotic butter churn as he aimed to work off his debts to her. Howling and crying with sexual abandon and delight at how good this this modern day caveman was fucking her as he soon shifted her body into a mating press, pushing her legs until her ankles were in either side of her head while her arms draping around his powerful shoulders as her tits pressed snd rubbed against his firm pecs as their tongues dancing together in a sloppy open air dance. Hearts flowing in her eyes as orgasms rocked her body one after another, her stomach bulging from his length and girth as her womb pulsed with the growing need to receive his seed and have him knock her up with his babies. Her brain’s inner voice chanting to get pregnant, toes curling at the idea of this himbo making her go on maternity leave as those heavy balls smacked and slapped her jiggling asscheeks like thunder.

How she loved every second of it, the raw, primal mind numbing spine tingling pleasure as this absolute unit of an alpha male lived out the sexual fantasies and wet dreams of most when it came to Nami. Pink glowing hearts in her her eyes as she currently found herself pinned up against the wall, arms and kegs draped around Kirishima’s muscular tank of a body. His cock jackhammering away into her snatch’s inviting warmth as a growing puddle of juices rained down on the floor, deepthroated moans pouring forth from her luscious dicksucking lips as she felt him blow his load finally. Hot, white baby batter flowing into her womb as her brain registered with delight at the fact that Kirishima hasn’t started going soft and limp, his cock as stiff and erect as it was when they started meaning their fun wasn’t anywhere close to finishing.

Nami:”Aaahn! So good, harder!! Don’t stop fucking me you sexy himbo!”*The tangerine haired hottie hollered and cheered on as she currently rode Kirishima cowgirl style, her face wearing an expression of what could only be called a bitch in heat as she relished his gaze in her bouncing tits. His hands shifting between groping them, squeezing her juicy ass or just showering her body with sensual affection.*”Aaahn, you’ve cum 3 times already and haven’t pulled out once!! Keep it up!! Make me have to go on maternity leave with your hero baby!!”*Such lewd remarks came forth from her mouth as the sturdy stud not only worked off his debts but wound up winning Nami’s heart and body. Which only made her want him to fuck her all the more.*

The bombshell and her newfound sex friend couldn’t help but lose track of time, minutes passing into hours as Nami experienced first had the depth and level of Kirishima’s sexual skills and experience. Every variety of position snd relentless orgasm strengthening the growing bind of intimacy between them as the tangerine maned minx found herself developing a few favourite positions. From the raw primal bliss of getting plowed doggy style to the closeness of a seated lotus as their bodies glistened with the sheen perspiration. The sheets stained with their juices, the bed trashed which Nami just added to her sex machine’s tab as they kept fucking until the need to rest and sleep finally took them.

There Nami laid atop Kirishima’s sculpted form, purring as she nuzzled him while feeling safe in his strong arms. Basking in the afterglow as his semi-sated cock rested between her thighs, his excess seed flowing from her creampied pussy, dreaming sweet, erotic dreams of further rutting with this man. After such a bout of passion like that, Kirishima hadn’t just made strides in working off his debts. Oh no, Nami felt this fine fellow had earned himself a very special reward, one she was going to offer soon as the chance presented itself…..after another couple of rounds of course.

A few days to weeks after this newfound snd forged erotic friendship, Nami surprised a few select premium fans of hers with a sudden stream. Showing off her newly repaired, renovated and refurbished yacht as a chink of its price ahd come out of the pockets of the crook Kirishima had caught, all the while she performed this tour in another sexy swimsuit. A mischievous catlike grin on her face as she came to her hot tub, showing that she wasn’t alone as the camera showed Kirishima in the hot, steamy bubbling water with none other than Mina and Maya, the bubblegum coloured duo rocking sexy swimwear of their own as they were making out with their boyfriend. Yes indeed, Nami had come to learn about Kirishima’s unique little relationship with the acid maker and the shapeshifter, who were more than eager and happy to bring her into their personal circle of intimacy.

Just when Nami thought her newly made bond with Kirishima couldn’t get any better, the fact that he was such a beast in bed that he couldn’t be just a one woman man sweetened the pot. So of course where she was celebrating her one month anniversary in her new relationship by showing off her shared stud to her fans as she shot a wink and blew a kiss at the camera. Placing her phone close by so it could get a good view of the show as she graced the hot tub with her thicc, sexy self, straddling Kirishima’s lap as she added her own lips and tongue to mark the three way kiss a foursome. Upping the intimacy as the 3 bombshells removed their bikini tops, flashing their big juicy tits to their alpha male as Nami’s stream began making record number views and donation tips, especially from her simps…including s certain grape-head who yet again cursed the chivalrous himbo for his luck with women, the lucky bastard!!

#sketchfan #sketchfanda #sketchfan85 #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #one piece #one piece anime #one piece manga #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #op nami #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijiro #kiriashi #eijiro kirishima #kirimina #kirishima #kirishima smut #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #ashido #darkereve #darwin núñez #darwin nunez #maya diva #maya divato #jagua tales #Naruho #utility pole spirit

[spookyshipperfics]

Different

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Explicit

Tagging: @today-in-fic

What is it About? “She didn’t want him to see her like this. Soft. Fragile. Broken. Their partnership was still so fresh.”

What if Ethan had stuck around and cheated on Scully? Here’s a little angsty one shot of the aftermath. (MSR-focused. This is NOT a Scully/other fic)

Read it: Ethan had cheated.

The confession was a slap, the blame colliding with her like a punch. The betrayal would surely leave her bruised.

You’re never around. You work too much. You’re always with… him.

Denial was pointless. The truth was there, but infidelity was inexcusable. It didn’t warrant picking up some woman in some bar in some nearby town. So, Scully had thrown him out, watching as he gathered his scattered items and tried not to flinch when the door slammed.

Her cheeks were sticky with tears. Acidic wine stung her lips. Angry bites of vanilla ice cream soothed them. A knock echoed through the apartment. When she didn’t answer, Mulder’s concerned voice called out. Guilt had her pulling open the door. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Soft. Fragile. Broken. Their partnership was still so fresh.

Sadness and fear corrupted Mulder’s glittery green eyes. He’d looked at her similarly only a few weeks ago. Snowflakes whipped. Wind howled. In the confinement of a storage closet, they decided to choose trust. She wondered if they could do the same now.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, ignoring the file in his hand to follow her to the couch and sit too close.

Curled in a blanket, legs crisscrossed, she told him. Mulder’s gentle “sorry” made her realize she wasn’t. Her relationship with Ethan had fractured a long time ago. He was always the victim, never the offender, even after burying his dick in another woman. She had planned to end things sooner. It’s a shame he beat her to it.

“I’m not. I don’t want to settle.” Mulder’s hand was in her lap. She moved closer, stealing his warmth, stealing his strength. “I just wish he didn’t make me feel so… worthless.”

Mulder tilted her chin until their gazes locked. “Worthless is what you should be calling him.”

“I’m ready for something different,” she choked, eyes blurring with tears.

That something different was the twisted new world she’d found herself in. The challenge had intrigued her; the mystery had seduced her. Mulder’s good looks didn’t hurt. The truth was, she hadn’t seen a future with Ethan. But she did in the X-Files. Somehow, a musty basement office and towering stacks of files had started to feel like home.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against Mulder’s before she could think better of it. The kiss lingered, almost crackled with electricity. What came next should’ve been an apology. Instead, Mulder greedily sucked her tongue into his mouth, taking her barely spoken “sorry” with it. The tenderness complimented the ferocity.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she uttered against his mouth.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Mulder agreed but eased her backward onto the couch anyway.

Danger sparkled in the corners of her mind. White hot embers warned of turning a good thing rotten. But the throbbing between her legs felt even more dangerous. The wetness there was a welcome change from tears. She trusted Mulder with her life. Of course, she could trust him with her body.

She reached for his belt, but he caught her wrist. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I want you to make me feel good,” she whispered, lips still sliding against his.

Mulder studied her with profiler eyes. “Scully, are you su—”

“Please.” The plea cracked with desperation. “I need something different.”

Mulder growled, pinning the wrists still in his grasp above her head. He didn’t need to ask if she liked it. Her whimper betrayed her. Curious hands dove beneath her pants. He bit her neck when he found her soaked. He told her how tight she felt when he pushed a finger inside.

They took turns peeling off clothes. First her pants, then Mulder’s. At some point, her shirt joined the growing pile on the floor. Mulder kneeled before her, his head diving between her thighs. The ice cream had melted long ago. Syrupy rivers of vanilla dripped down the carton and dirtied her coffee table as his tongue danced across her clit. By the time he slipped two fingers inside, she begged for it to be his cock.

Mulder twisted for his pants, wrestling a condom from his wallet. There probably should have been a conversation, but her brain was too soft with lust to care. The edges were fuzzy, her body a live wire, sparking and so fucking hot.

She rushed to move, to rise from the couch and spin around. Mulder stopped her, pressing her back into the cushions as he climbed on top of her. “Stay just like that,” he growled. “I want your pretty mouth on mine when I push into you.”

She gushed at the words, making it easier for him to do the very thing he promised. His lips molded with hers, swallowing desperate whimpers as he filled her.

He pulled back to ask, “Is this different?”

It was. Where Ethan had been fast and careless, Mulder was purposeful and attentive. She felt every inch. Every ridge. Every velvet contour. Each snap of his hips brushed that delicate little spot inside of her that screamed for attention.

“Is this different?” he repeated.

She nodded.

“Tell me.”

“Yes,” she cried. “Oh God, yes.”

He grabbed the back of her head, yanking her forward and demanding her attention. “I want to fuck you like no one ever has before.”

Their foreheads touched, then their lips. The delicacy of the kiss didn’t match his chaotic thrusts or vulgar words. This was the man who sat on the floor instead of the bed on their first case. He’d told her secrets. Whispered truths. Maintained a boundary he could easily have crossed after she disrobed in front of him. Now, he was going to make her come.

“Oh, my God, Mulder.” Pressure built in her stomach. Warmth leaked into her extremities. She tried to draw him closer, but he leaned back to graze nimble fingertips across her clit. One touch, one measly brush, and she was gone. He didn’t slow down as she pulsed and writhed around him. If anything, he dove deeper, pushed harder.

“Fuck,” he grunted, but she barely heard him. She was overwhelmed by the sensation, still consumed by her fading orgasm. “So good, Scully. So fucking good.”

His mutterings were interrupted by a metallic click. The tilt of her head revealed the front door opening. A moment later, Ethan stepped through. Her surprised squeal was overpowered by Ethan’s dramatic grunt. “I knew it.”

Mulder pulled out, tossing her the blanket balled in the corner of the couch as if both men hadn’t already witnessed her in this primal state. She wasn’t sure if Mulder had finished. Frenzied limbs yanked off the condom and struggled with his pants. In the commotion, he stumbled, knocking the ice cream carton to the ground. The splattering of sticky vanilla across her rug matched the mess unfolding before her.

“I forgot my jacket. The good one,” Ethan announced, rummaging through the coat hook by the door.

Scully made no attempt to move. Just stared at Ethan, cold and icy, as his fingers finally closed around the garment. “Leave your key,” she demanded.

He tossed it toward the coffee table, where it landed with a sharp clattering. “Glad to see you’ve already moved on.” Sarcasm flooded his voice, overflowing as he added, “Have a nice night, Dana.”

Ethan left for the second time that evening. Again, the door slammed, and tears pricked her eyes. The blanket wrapped around her still offered comfort, only this time she was naked underneath, with Mulder standing anxiously before her.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder said, gesturing toward the overturned ice cream carton. “I’m sorry about everything.”

“It’s okay.” The small laugh she offered felt like it broke her. Surely, jagged cracks would appear on her porcelain skin at any moment. “I wanted chocolate anyway.”

“Chocolate?”

“I always get vanilla. Chocolate is different” There was that word again.

Mulder nodded. “Do you have an old towel or something? I’ll clean this up.”

It was tempting. She knew he’d stay. That he’d end up back on the couch and in her arms. “You know, Mulder. What Ethan said… I haven’t… this isn’t me moving on,” she began. “This can’t… this was a—”

“Mistake,” Mulder finished. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

It wasn’t a mistake. It was fantastic. Too good, really. But it had to be a one-time thing. Scully didn’t want to complicate his life’s work with messy feelings and delicate beginnings. It was for his own good.

When she just nodded, Mulder frowned. “Goodnight, Scully,” he said before kissing the corner of her mouth and the top of her head.

He left her then. Unlike Ethan, the door didn’t slam shut. It closed softly. She cried anyway.

A half-drunk glass of wine later, another knock reverberated through her empty apartment. Heart heavy, eyes blurry, she whipped open the door only to find a single pint of chocolate ice cream.

For the first time that night, she smiled.

Come show some love on a03 here.

#the x files fanfic #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #msr

[dunefeather]

The Pact (18+)

Lady Jessica x F!maid!Reader

Content : smut, oral sex (F to F), Jessica in couple with Leto but he knows and authorizes it, mention of murder attempt.

Disbelief grows obvious on your friends' face as you stop between them and a confused Lady Jessica. You heard them plotting earlier and you won't let them get their revenge on someone who is innocent to your eyes.

"Miss ?" The potential future Duchess of Arrakis asks you. "What are you doing ?"

The other Fremens amongst the group of maids keep their eyes locked on yours, warning clear as you feel now trapped between the unsuspecting Lady and them. Several guards are hostile to the House Atreides and no matter what happens if you don't deflect the danger, that won't be pretty. Which one has the poison ? And what kind ?

"I am sorry my Lady." You say quietly as you take the risk to turn your back to the small group. "I wanted to volunteer to pour your tea. It would mean a lot to me."

She raises an eyebrow as she remains as stoic as usual. This woman is gifted to make you feel stupid despite the seriousness of this situation. Her face is sharp, and suddenly you recall some statues carved in stone from the desert. Her features are noble, her eyes giving away her intelligence. You hope she is as good to your people as the Duke sounds like. But after this could be purely political. Maybe you should let them kill her as they planned.

"I don't see any reason not to let you accomplish your tasks." She replies slowly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I heard that hot beverages are especially useful in such hot environments."

"It would be the case outside but as we make sure the temperature remains bearable inside the effects are going to be limited." You explain as you feel like about to choke on your heart beating like a war drum. "But it is still an important part of our culinary culture."

"Then please show me. I am curious to see how you prepare this tea. I heard it is delicious."

She sounds nicer like this, and for a second you think you just got her lowering her guard. But that was before she follows you, her gaze not leaving you once you are alone in the kitchen.

"Are you scared ?" She asks as you open a closet.

You stop, pondering which choice you get from this question. Do you tell her the whole truth right now ? You think so as you turn your head to the counter where the tea bags rest in a cristal plate. Dozens of bags full of herbs and leaves freshly arrived from the latest delivery. The other women all got potentially access to it.

"Your family is not welcome in this desert despite what the Harkonnens did to us all. You are weak despite the weight of your name in the rest of the galaxy. Your influence is substantial. Some Fremens maids are plotting to assassinate you. Some hate what your House represents as our new masters, others follow the most hateful ones blindly."

Her silence to your words makes your heart sound unbelievably noisy and annoying. You wish you could just rip it off to have the opportunity to hear anything else happening around you. The only way to know is to turn around.

"Is there any attack planned ?" She asks softly.

"The Fremen girls talked about poisoning you my Lady." You admit as you lower your head to the ground.

"Are you a Fremen ?"

"I am, my Lady."

She comes closer, and you risk a shy look at her face. Her head is tilted to the side as she stares at you in a commanding way.

"Why do you want to defend us ?"

"I think the Duke is genuinely good to us . Nothing can be worse than having to serve the Harkonnens." You say as you shudder. "Maybe I'm wrong but that is my feeling after your arrival."

"What tells me this is not a trap from you ?"

"Nothing I guess." You say sadly. "I only want to protect you as much as I can. It's good to have someone like you."

"Would it be a reason good enough for you to betray your own people ?"

You take in her features and the grace beaming off of them. Lady Jessica is a sharp woman that you have seen loving to her son and concubine. This loving side lacking so cruelly in the Harkonnens. You know where she comes from yet you can't believe she is a bad person. For once, maybe beauty isn't used as a lethal weapon in this world.

Her gaze changes subtly but her surprise is obvious enough for you to lower your head again as you rub your hands together.

"I am sorry my Lady. I know how rude it is to stare."

"Answer please." She whispers.

It's a beautiful sound, you absolutely love it as you repress the goosebumps threaten to run down your spine.

"I don't consider..."

Her hand pushes your chin up gently, making eye contact possible between you. For a few seconds you forget what is going on in your mind and the world around you.

"Look at me when you talk little one."

"Yes... yes my Lady. I'm sorry." You clear your throat as she retrieves her hand slowly, her lips forming a thin line. "I don't consider my actions as a betrayal to my people. I do think you can help us."

"Are the Fremen maids a threat to me and my family ?"

"Most of them. And some guards in the palace too."

Composure fails her at this. She blinks a few times before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"He was right." She whispers before resuming her stare. "Thank you for letting me know. Your help and dedication are greatly appreciated."

"You're welcome my Lady." You say in a bow.

"So... You told me that this tea might be poisoned ?"

"It might be. They had access to it, not me."

"Please come to my quarters." She demands gently with an insisting gaze.

The walk to her room is... tense. Between her keeping her eyes everywhere and you following her anxiously. Any person could be a danger, a guard, a maid, anyone.

"Come in."

"Thank you my Lady." You squeal as you hold her intense gaze.

It's been a while since you had any physical contact with anyone and the simple thought of being invited there by such a charismatic woman, a Lady even, makes you all flustered. It's stupid as she certainly invites you to talk safely about your knowledge of those...

"Already back from your encounter with the maids ?" The Duke asks as he stands up from his chair.

You are so startled by his sole presence that you don't pay attention to his concubine's words. You only notice her stress being more obvious despite her mostly stoic demeanor. They whisper to each other, the Duke frowning more than ever before a series of words from her turn his surprised gaze to you. You swallow hard as he eyes you up and down briefly, the slightest grin making an appearance on his lips behind his thick beard. He nods, kisses her forehead then leaves with a last glare at you.

"Leto is aware of this predicament." The Lady starts as she gets closer to you. "He thanks you for your help and is going to take some measures."

Her eyes are half-closed, her pupils dancing between them as she examines your face. There is some kind of... sensuality erupting from her features as her soft hands now run your cheeks before doing the same with your neck. Can she feel your heart pounding ?

"My Lady," you whisper as your core heats up rapidly as she strokes your bottom lip with her thumb, "what are you doing ?"

"I noticed your desire for me, I am no fool." She explains as you clench around nothing at the mere power of her glare. "I find you pretty attractive as well. And if you want to prove me your loyalty to us, I want you to kneel before me."

"But... but the Duke my Lady." You say in a trembling voice.

"He knows everything about it and he gave me his permission." She smiles fondly at you. "No punishment for you. Do you want to serve me fully ?"

Never anyone has ever looked at you this way. Her charm is magnetic, her dilated eyes awesomely beautiful.

"Yes, I do." You whisper with a faint hope to kiss her.

"Kneel."

As requested, you kneel. Gently not to hurt your knees as your eyes examine eagerly the fabrics of her grey and thin dress. You wonder what she is wearing underneath, if this was worth all this throbbing between your legs.

"Lift my dress up and kiss my legs."

"My Lady." You breathe out as your shaking hands hesitate as you touch the softest fabrics you had ever touched.

"Did I stutter ?" She says in a commanding tone.

You do as demanded, swallowing hard at how beautiful her legs are as you reveal more and more of her skin.

"Slowly." She intimated you as you already reach her knees. "Take your time. If your people might think you are betraying them by doing this, then you might as well enjoy it."

"Absolutely my Lady." You squeal as you arrive at her thighs. "You are magnificent."

"Kiss." She moans suddenly with a slight jolt.

You notice the way she rubs her shivering legs and you obey, leaving a few awkward kisses her and there above her knees.

"Make me feel your lips on me. Your tongue too." She whispers loudly with a shaky breath.

Once again, you do as demanded, this time licking from her ankle up to her knee, then up to mid-thigh as her hand finds the back of your head. You lift her dress to the top of her thighs, hiding her crotch as you kiss the area where her thighs rib each other.

She is even more aroused than you are and it excites you to no end. You have so much power over this lady for some reason, apparently only because she found you attractive.

"Nibble me down there." She moans.

You obey, grinning as your lips close around the white fabrics soiled by her desire as she spreads her legs a little. You taunt her with the tip of your tongue, poking her here and there before nibbling clumsily at the front to try to find her clit. And when you find it through her panties, her breathing stops.

"Remove it." She commands as she holds her dress to let your hand free.

"Yes my Lady."

It is a wonderful sight to see her entrance clenching so easily as her panties reach her ankles.

"You are magnificent my Lady." You say before starting to suck on her clit.

She was already so close that she lets her loud pleased moan out, so arousing that you rub your thighs against each other. You are sure you made her get her orgasm just like this, making her fall apart shamelessly.

"Keep going." She whispers before swallow her saliva loudly. "Keep going by the Gods."

A quick gaze to the side startles you. There is a mirror against the wall, one fixed to the ground. From there you see yourself of course, but also how beautiful her legs are now uncovered by her lifted dress, her cheeks made pinkish by pleasure highlighting her red lips half open. Feeling unbelievably powerful you keep looking at this reflection as you start to suck on her clit again, watching her as she bite her lip, her head falling backwards. You intensify your ministrations with your tongue, and listen to her as you observe her opening her mouth to let such lewd moans that you wonder if you could even produce anything similar to those.

"Come here pretty girl." She whispers as she makes you sit on the ground, your eyes closing as soon as your mouth find her dripping entrance. "Make me...," she breathes out, "make me hear everything".

You may not have access to the mirror anymore but your arms and hands explore her body underneath her burning body. You feel her belly swelling at each deep breath she takes and how shaky she is as you keep penetrating her with your tongue. Each time you suck on her wetness you make sure she hears it as demanded as the dedicated maid you are. She struggles a bit with her dress at some point to take one of your wandering hands in his, redirecting in on her buttocks you then grasp with the both of your palms.

"Yes." She encourages you in a whisper. "Yes... yes please..." She says a bit louder.

The more her pleasure increases the more you feel blessed to be in this position. If only you could do it all day long, feel her pulsating entrance around your tongue all day, then having to hold her as she screams out of pleasure, her free hand grabbing your hair to maintain you greedily against her as you keep licking, taste her delightful juices.

She is beautiful and for this you start licking the spots now soiled with her wetness. It's heartwarming to hear her chuckle as you poke her lower lips with the tip of you tongue, taunting her hips jolting away from you under overstimulation. Then she lets a long and sensual moan out as you lock all the way across her pussy with the flat of your tongue, her back arching under your touch.

"Thank you little one." She whispers as she steps back from you, your disappointmemt immeasurable. "I needed this."

"It's my pleasure my Lady." You say as you stand up, wipe your lips as you watch her putting her panties back outside her dress like nothing just happened.

"It was all mine." She says before you start to fall for her at the mere sight of how beautiful she is blushing of pleasure and slightly disheveled.

Before you can react you close your eyes, her lips finding yours. She soon moans against you, causing you to be as lightheaded as it is humanely possible.

"Tell me any suspicions you may have on the other Fremens in this palace." She tells you with a serious gaze. "If you hear anything tell us. Do you hear me ?"

"Yes I will my Lady." You say absentmindedly.

"Perfect."

You don't get any additional kiss but you do think that this hand on the small of your back is worth it as well as the kiss on the crook of your neck.

- - - -

Thank you for reading please comment and reblog of you liked it ! 😊

#lady jessica x reader #lady jessica x you

[lokiwhitewolf]

Red Hot Winter Chapter 3

Trigger warning: Blood sharing

Chapter 3: "I’ve got reasons"

Elijah and Elena got to the Original's house. He went to her side of the car and opened the door for her, escorting her out. After closing the door, he held her face in between his hands and said:

"I want to pursue a relationship with you, Elena, if that’s what you wish. I know you might have some unfinished business in Mystic Falls and..."

She interrupted him by pecking his lips.

"All I know is that you make me feel like I’ve never felt before. As if you were worshiping me, like I was the most important person in your life. Nobody has ever treated me like that before. I want this, but I want to take it slow." She said this, caressing his face. He kissed her palm.

"We’ll go as slow or as fast as you want, my lovely Elena."

They got into the house, holding hands. Klaus was still not back, and Rebekah was in Hayley’s room. The wolf was sound asleep, her body getting the rest it needed after what had happened throughout the day.

Elena took the direction to her room.

"Where are you going?" Asked Elijah.

"Well, you said we’d share your room. I was just grabbing my stuff." She replied, smiling. "Rebekah didn’t grab all of my things from Mystic Falls, so I don’t have much inside my bag anyway."

"It doesn’t matter; we can go out in the city, and I’ll get you anything you need," Elijah said.

Elena grabbed her bag, took it to Elijah’s room, and started to unpack. At the same time, he started to make space for her in the closet. Elena couldn’t help but notice how domestic that scene felt, as if it was always supposed to be like this. After making enough space and promising her once again that they would go out to buy more clothes for her because, according to Elijah, he would love to watch her model just for him, he went to check on Hayley.

Elena took this opportunity to call Caroline. Even though they were best friends, she did remember the things she told her when her humanity was off, and she also remembered how she told her to just sleep with Klaus since she was clearly into him. Elena was now biting her tongue because she was with one of the originals.

The phone didn’t even ring twice before Caroline picked it up.

"Elena!" Said Caroline.

"Hey, Care."

"Please tell me you’re okay."

"I’m more than okay."

"Where are you? All I remember is Rebekah breaking my neck. She did that to Damon and Stefan as well."

"She broke me out; I’m with her and her brothers."

"Wait what? What are you doing with the originals?"

"I can’t say Caroline, but all you need to know is that I’m okay and my humanity is back."

"How? Stefan and Damon couldn’t bring it back; who did it?"

Elena was about to answer when Elijah got into the room and said:

"Elena, I’m going to get us some food; I’ll be right back." He walked to her and kissed her briefly. "I’ll see you later."

"Bye," Elena said, smiling.

Elijah walked out, but Caroline was still in the line.

"Elena?"

"Elijah."

"Elijah? As in Klaus’s brother? The one that betrayed us when we tried to kill his brother? The one that had his sister torturing you all day?"

"I know what he did, but he was just protecting his family. He’d do anything for them. I understand that. And he apologized for that. I did dagger him once anyway."

"Wait, don’t tell me you are with him!"

"What’s the matter if I am Caroline?"

"You do know he was with Katherine, right?"

"He already told me about her and assured me she was in the past. Also, Stefan and Damon were both with her."

"Yeah, but they are not part of the Mikaelsons!"

"Caroline I called you to apologize for being so rude towards you when my humanity was off. Not to be criticized for being with someone who’s with me because he fell for me for being me, not because I’m Katherine’s doppelganger, someone who finally treats me like a woman should be treated. Maybe one day you’ll see that when you decide to give Klaus a chance."

Elena hung up. She didn’t know exactly how to take her relationship with Elijah, but all she knew right now was that giving him a chance was the right thing to do.

Elijah came back shortly after, calling her to the dining room. The table was set for both of them, sitting next to each other. He had gotten her favorite food and poured wine for both of them. While they dined, he wanted to know everything about her. Her favorite movies, books, and TV shows He promised to take her to see the world. As soon as this whole situation was over, he’d take her on a vacation. But he did notice that something was bothering her.

"What’s wrong, my love?" He asked, caressing her cheek.

"I called Caroline to apologize for the mean things I did when my humanity was off, and she made it clear she didn’t like the fact we were together."

"I know you love your friends, and you’d do anything for them. That’s how you became a vampire." He said smiling "But sometimes, you have to do things for yourself. Things that make you happy"

"You make me happy."

He smiled, taking a sip of his wine, but a droplet fell from his mouth.

Elena, with all the liquid courage she had, stood up and sat on top of his lap. Taking the initiative this time, she kissed his chin, where the droplet had fallen. Elijah put both of his hands on her hips to hold her firm against him. Both of them closed their eyes.

"I want to do something," Said Elena.

"What?" Asked Elijah.

"I want to taste your blood. May I?" She said, whispering in his ear and kissing just under that region, moving her hips against his, despite him holding her.

He had almost lost his voice. Breathing out, he said.

"You may, my lovely Elena. But I want to see you." Elena stopped kissing his neck and grabbed his right arm. Making sure he was looking, she let her eyes turn black and the veins pop up under them, and she felt her fangs coming down. Her hair was now back to normal. It was Elena. His lovely Elena

She bit down on the inside of his wrist and started to drink his blood. It was the best and sweetest drink she’d ever drunk. And she had drunk vampire blood before, but nothing compared to his. Elijah was mesmerized by the sight. It was the most intense, and probably the hottest, vision he had ever seen. Drinking another vampire's blood was the most intimate thing in the vampire world. If the blood belonged to their partner, it means that the drinker has chosen to change their life. They chose to be with them, and it made their bond so much stronger that not even a witch was able to break it. It meant that Elena was choosing Elijah as hers.

Elijah smiled and brought her right hand to his mouth, letting her watch his eyes turn black, his veins pop out, and his fangs come down, then biting the inside of her wrist. Her blood was the most exquisite he had ever tasted. Elijah had drunk vampire blood before, but never had he felt like this. Elena chose him, and Elijah chose her.

Elena finished drinking and kissed his wrist. He drank until the vein was empty and kissed her wrist when he was done.

They looked at each other intensely. Elijah was the one who made the first move. He attacked her mouth with everything he had, tasting his blood in her mouth just like she could taste her blood on his. Elena’s hip was moving on its own accord against Elijah’s. He trailed kisses down her neck to her shoulder, lowering one of the straps of her shirt to continue to worship her body. Elena started to run her nails down his neck, which made his body start to move in sync with hers.

He went back to kiss her mouth and put his hands under her shirt. He was about to touch her body when they were interrupted.

"Elena! Elijah! Somebody took Hayley!" Rebekah screamed from the stairs.

They stopped kissing, immediately worried now. Elijah gave Elena his suit jacket to at least hide the marks he left on her body. She smiled at him and got up from his lap, putting on the jacket.

"What do you mean, Rebekah? Weren’t you watching over her?" Asked Elena.

"No, I was out in town with Marcel."

Elijah and Elena looked at each other. Someone took Hayley right under their noses.

 Needless to say, Klaus was more than angry at his brother and the doppelganger.

"You two had one job!" He shouted at the two in the living room the next morning. "But instead of watching over Hayley, you two were shagging like two teenagers!"

"Niklaus, if you speak to Elena like this again, I assure you, brother, it will be the last thing you do," Said Elijah in a threatening tone, looking at his brother.

"Hayley didn’t make this baby on her own; where were you, Klaus?" Asked Elena.

"What I was doing or not is none of your concern, doppelganger."

"I’m here," Said Sophie. After Rebekah politely asked, Marcel allowed the Mikaelsons to bring in Sophie to do a locator spell. Rebekah had gone to town to get her. "I’m going to need something to locate her."

"She is caring my baby; use my blood." Said Klaus. That impressed Elena. She knew Klaus had a bad relationship with his father. Perhaps he didn't want history to repeat itself.

Sophie grabbed a map of New Orleans and opened it up on the kitchen table. Klaus cut his hand with a kitchen knife. After reciting the incantation, the blood drops started to move and ended up on the bayou.

"Who would take her there?" Asked Sophie. "That’s where the wolves used to live before Marcel had them cursed."

"I know someone desperate enough to do this. Elijah, Katerina, come with me."

 Elijah, Elena, and Klaus went to the Bayou. That's where Hayley’s family used to live before they died. She had come to New Orleans because Klaus had tipped her off about her family. It was also here that the witches caught her first.

"You two stay here and look for her. I’ll look for Tyler Lockwood."

"Wait, Tyler?" Said Elena.

"I allowed him to live because Caroline asked me. But if he does anything to my heir, I will kill him, Elena, even if he is your friend."

"Niklaus," Said Elijah.

"I don’t care what you say, Elijah; if harm comes to my child, he will die." Klaus said, following Tyler’s scent into the woods.

Elijah takes Elena’s hand, and they start to look for Hayley. The curse Marcel had put on the wolves made them stay in their animal form until the full moon, but their bite was still lethal, and Elijah wanted to protect her if a wolf came their way.

The vampires were near a small cabin in the woods when they saw a disheveled Hayley running to them.

"Elena, Elijah!" She said this, breathing out in relief and hugging both of them.

"What did Tyler do to you, Hayley?" Asked Elena after they stepped back.

"He kidnapped me with another wolf last night. He had heard something from other packs about my baby, and he wanted to see if it was true."

"What? We know everyone is afraid that your baby is going to be really powerful; that’s what Agnes said." Said Elena.

"He heard from other packs that Klaus could use my baby’s blood to make more hybrids, but I’m not going to let him!" Said Hayley.

Elena and Elijah looked at each other. Even though Elena suspected as much, she didn’t believe Klaus would do this. As it is, Elena thought Klaus wanted to be better than Mikael.

They got inside the small cabin. There was the body of another wolf that Tyler had successfully turned into a hybrid with Hayley's blood but that Tyler had killed.

A few moments later, Klaus arrived at the location, having dealt with Tyler.

“Come on, little wolf, let's get you home," Klaus said.

"Did you know?" Hayley said. "Did you know that our daughters' blood could make more hybrids?"

Klaus looked down and at Hayley again.

"I’d suspected as much, but I don’t want to know."

"Why not Niklaus? You always loved your hybrids." Said Elijah.

"Did it ever cross your mind that I want to do right by my child?" Said Klaus, turning to Elijah, "You always assume the worst of me, but the one time I want to do the right thing, you think I’d dry my child to make more hybrids? You think I am anything like Mikael?" And with that, Klaus bit Elijah’s neck.

"Elijah!" Elena shouted, carrying the original vampire.

"You’re coming with me, little wolf; it won’t take long until Marcel discovers your pregnancy."

Hayley looked at Elena, who was holding Elijah. Elena nodded her head, and Hayley went with Klaus. It was not Elena’s first experience with this type of situation, but this time, the bite wouldn’t kill Elijah; it only incapacitated him for a while.

Elena laid Elijah on the old bed of the cabin.

She sat on the floor and waited for the symptoms to start.

It didn't take long, really. His fever started to spike, and Elena did what she could to keep his temperature down. She was applying a cold rag to his forehead when he started to hallucinate. He started to hallucinate about his life with his siblings in New Orleans in the past, including the time when Klaus killed one of Rebekah’s boyfriends at a party.

Elena thought it made sense since they were in the town where he was one of the founders. But she was not prepared for the hallucination that came after.

It appeared to still be the same period, but they were not in the Original's mansion; it was someone else's house.

A beautiful black woman was taking a bath in a bathtub when Elijah showed up.

"Your brother is up to no good again," The woman said.

"Surely you could cast a spell and put him in his place," He said.

"It would take a hundred witches to put him in his place. Besides, he only ever listens to you."

"Yes, he certainly needs a little discipline." He kissed her foot. "Perhaps a spanking of some sort is in order. I think I will need some rehearsal. Come"

Elijah blacked out after that.

Elena went outside. Of course, she knew he had had other women before—countless. He was an original, after all. Elena didn’t like her. It appeared there was something familiar about her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

At least it wasn't a vision involving Katherine. It would be worse. Elijah had assured her that he wanted her, and what happened in the hallucination had happened a long time ago. She shouldn’t worry, right?

After a few hours, as the sun was setting, Elijah finally woke up. He knew Elena had seen his hallucinations. Their bond was stronger than ever after sharing blood.

"Elena," He said, after getting out of the cabin and sitting down next to her on the floor, "I’m sorry you had to see that."

"She was beautiful."

"She is in the past. I assure you, my lovely Elena, that being with you is the most remarkable thing that has ever happened to me. I love you, and only you."

"I know." She said it smiling. She pecked his lips, and they stood up.

They got back to Elijah’s car, and Elena drove back to the Originals Mansion. They walked into the house and saw Klaus with a dagger on Rebekah's throat.

"Niklaus stop!" interjects Elijah, slapping the dagger from Klaus's hand.

Rebecca was crying.

"While you two were out, you know what Rebekah did? She conspired with Marcel to have me killed! My sister!" Shouted Klaus.

“Brother, out of respect to the mother of your child, I don’t think this has anything to do with what Tyler Lockwood found out." Said, Elijah

"Marcel and his lackeys tried to have me killed, with the help of Rebekah. How would my child grow up without her father? All of you assume me to be the bastard child, the big bad hybrid, but the one time that I need my family, you presume me to use my child to make more hybrids? I’m not Mikael." Klaus said, with tears on his face. "Now you can stay here or come with me to the compound. I’m going to protect my daughter, whatever it takes, always and forever. Little wolf, come." He said this, calling out Hayley. Hayley stopped in the hallway, looking at Elijah and Elena, then followed Klaus to his car.

As soon as they heard Klaus’s car leaving, Rebekah said:

"Don’t go, Elijah; he doesn’t deserve any of us. He is too blinded by power."

"I have to, Bekah," Elijah said softly. "Hayley is carrying one of us; I can’t leave her behind."

"Then you go." Said Rebekah. "I’ll see you when Hayley gives birth." Elijah smiled and hugged his sister, kissing her cheek. "You take care of Elena, okay?"

"I will, sister."

After they separated, Rebekah went to Elena.

"Thank you for helping us, Elena," She said, touching the brunette's shoulder.

"Thank you for saving me, Rebekah."

Rebekah said her goodbyes, and Elena went packing. Now she’d have to pretend to be Katherine 24/7.

#elejah #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson #original vampire #originals #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu fanfiction #tvdu x reader #tvdu imagines #tvdu edit #rebekah mikaelson #the mikaelsons #tvdu rp #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #caroline forbes #vampire diaries #vampire #vampirism #kol mikaelson #hayley marshall #rebekah mikealson x reader #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvdedit #redhotwinter

[dominikmysteriofan]

Moonlight Dreams

Mandy looked up at the moon and she wished that she would meet the man of her dreams but she never could have thought that it would be tonight and all of the sudden the most gorgeous man that she had ever seen appeared at her window he was wearing a black silk shirt and tight black jeans he said "hi there beautiful my name is dominik and i am a spanish god" she said hello dominik it is wonderful to meet you and my name is mandy but you may call me beautiful" dominik asked will you please come outside so i can see you face to face? she said yes i will be out in a few minutes he said okay babe" she looked through her closet to find a dress to wear she chose a black silk dress which fit her perfectly and black high heels. she slipped her dress on over her black lace lingerie which she knew that dominik would love and then she got her shoes on and she did her hair and make up. then she went outside to meet dominik he smiled when he saw her he said "you are the most beautiful woman in the world she said thank you baby" and she wrapped her arms around dominiks neck and she kissed him passionately. the kiss ended and domink asked "would you dance with me here under the moonlight? she said yes" dominik came up behind her and he wrapped his arms around her waist and they began to dance his arms were very strong and she felt very safe with him. she leaned her head back she placed it on dominks shoulder and she pressed against him he moaned softly as she as she pressed against his cock which was very hard dominik asked "mami can we go to your bedroom? she asked are you sure that you want to do this since we just met he said yes mami i want to make love to you she said okay" she sweetly took dominks hand and they walked through the house to her bedroom she quickly locked the door because she needed him right now she said sit down on the bed dominik did what she asked him to do she took off her shoes and she slowly stripped off her dress revealing her black lace lingerie. dominik said "fuck mami you are so hot and i can not wait to make love to you" then he removed his shoes the stood up then he quickly removed his shirt revealing his beautiful chest and his tattoos which made her want him even more he proceeded to to remove his jeans until he was in left wearing nothing but his tight black boxer shorts which pressed against his rock-hard cock. she laid on the bed dominik slowly removed her lingerie revealing her beautiful body she was truly perfect she said "dominik please make love to me now" he immediately removed his boxers to reveal his hard cock which was absolutely perfect he climbed on the bed she spread her legs so dominik could see her pussy which he thought was very beautiful she looked sweetly at dominik because she knew that was falling in love with him he slowly pushed his cock inside of her as he began to move slowly she kissed him gently as he made love to her as he started to move faster she moaned sweetly because his cock felt so good inside of her he continued to make very passionate love to her until she had an orgasm which felt so good that he almost came she placed her hands on his chest as he helped her ride out her orgasm until they both came he slowly pulled out of her pussy and he laid down beside her he held her closely as they cuddled he sweetly said "i love you mi amor as he gently kissed her neck she said i love you too dominik" and they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms. a few hours later she woke up still wrapped in dominks arms she gently kissed him on the top of his head and she knew she had finally found her true love.

here is my story @pandorasfavorite

[pinkpastels113]

not because (s)he owns me

pairing: bechloe

rating: t

word count: 1k

summary:

In which Beca is dragged to the thrift store because she needs Bella to be her flower girl.

For bechloe week 2022 day two- “chloe would never allow that.”

author’s note: 

i stayed up until two am and woke up at seven to finish this, i hope it is on time for bechloe week and not a total mess lmao. hope and pray that i finish the starbucks one as well.

also on ao3

“Okay so in favor of me agreeing to let Bella be the flower girl for you and Chloe’s wedding, you have to come with me to the thrift store.”

Beca is still amazed that the only thing that her fiancé really wanted her to do for the entire ordeal is going off without a hitch. She didn’t even really register the words coming out of Stacie’s mouth. “Yeah, sure. Whatever it takes.”

Normally she would never be caught dead in the middle of walking to Goodwill. Beca had always believed that clothes were made to be worn for a long time, and that the people who have donated their clothes to the place have already had their history with them before letting it go. She does not ask where other people get their clothes, or particularly judge when they offhandedly reply that it is from a thrift store when others do; it is just that she herself does not want to get any of her stuff from the pile.

And seeing as how Stacie usually finds something for anyone who accompanies her on a shopping trip, Beca is pretty certain that she will not be leaving the place without at least one bag on her arm.

Whatever, it is for a good cause. More specifically, her future. A little rule breaking wouldn’t hurt.

Ten minutes following that thought Beca is already regretting her decision.

“No, no. Absolutely not. What the fuck, Stace? I already have things to wear at home, I don’t need… that to look sexy at the bacherlotte party! And besides,” Beca says, shuddering at the huge gap at the back of the camisole, “You can actually like put your hand through that thing. It’s more of a napkin than an actual top.”

Stacie shrugs, inspecting the garment in the cheap hospital-like lighting over their heads, “And what is so wrong with that? Like I said, you are on a budget to save for your honeymoon, Mitchell, and all the so-called things that you have to wear in your closet are sorry excuses for you to even call yourself a non-virgin, let alone a woman who is about to get hitched to her wife. Seriously, you need to find something new for Chloe to not take her eyes off of you at the party, and I am going to help you get it.”

“Yeah well. Thanks, but no thanks. This thing will literally have my boobs falling out, and I need them intact to look decent at the wedding.”

“Your boobs can survive four hours in a dark bar. Nobody else will notice them! They’ll be too focused on the booze.”

“There will be at least twenty people attending, dude! Do you want me to look like I have resorted to stripping to save some money in front of our friends and family? I know I don’t. Nor Chloe. Chloe would never allow that.”

Stacie gives her a look. “I don’t think Chloe would give a shit what you wore as long as both of you are happy, Bec.”

Beca pauses. Stacie is right. Chloe has only ever given a shit whenever Beca is uncomfortable, or pliable, or ever made to adorn anything that she does not wish to just because it would impact her career, her popularity, or feminine attractiveness. Chloe has always respected Beca’s tendency to stick to whatever makes her feel good and feel like herself, no matter what they were doing or where they are heading, whether that is flannels on sunny hot days or t-shirts on nights when rain would soak their skin.

Chloe is always there for her, always had been, promised to always will be. She kisses Beca’s wounds whenever she is overwhelmed with everything that is going around her, sits her down and wraps them both in Chloe’s special blanket whenever Beca needs a talking to.

She even largely took over for the wedding planning, because Beca had admitted that she is kind of terrified of screwing things up for their big day, in addition of everybody’s expectations. Chloe simply threaded her fingers through hers and smiled at the ring Beca had presented earlier that morning and said, quite plainly, “I believe that you are incapable of doing anything to change my mind about marrying you, Bec, but if you think that I should take over for the little details of the wedding so that you can be more comfortable with the bigger parts- the parts that we have to decide on together- I can do that.”

And Chloe did. Miraculously. Incredibly. Beautifully. The only reason Chloe had wanted Beca to be the one to ask Stacie for Bella to be the flower girl is because she had wanted Beca to be the one to tell her best friend that she would be honored to have her “niece” bless them, instead of her fiancé.

In the five years that they were together, Chloe was always the person to step outside her comfort zone to give her partner what she needed. It is time that Beca does the same.

Beca squares her shoulders. “You’re right. She wouldn’t care. And I do want you to help find something new for me. I want you to help me find something that will make her want to rip it right off as soon as she sees it because I am done being the girl who is always moping, the girl who is too scared to show her soon to be wife that she truly loves her a fuck ton. Chloe is it for me and has been for a while and it’s about time that I show her that.”

Stacie nods along to her impromptu speech, her eyebrows high. It is then that Beca realizes that she is in between two racks in the hell of Goodwill, with hands on her hips and strangers on either side stopping in their rifling of dresses to stare in shock at Beca’s frame. Heat rises to Beca’s cheeks, and her hands quickly drop to fiddle with her jacket, like she is a teenager confessing that she’s crushing on the most popular boy in class.

“So, um.” Stacie holds the camisole in front of her chest. “Not this though?”

“No. Not that.”

---

#w writes #bechloe #bechloe week #bechloe week 2022 #bechloe week 2022 day two #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect

[straightfromthetorturedpoetsdept]

The more I think about it, the more I think midnights is 1989 grown up and out of the closet.

Welcome to new York to Lavender Haze (she moved to New York to be queer and came out of it more closeted than ever)

Blank Space to Maroon (you can tell me if the high was worth the pain vibes of maroon)

Style to Anti-Hero (style is rumored to be queer in some way, I think this represents her desire to date Harry Styles because he was the IT boy of the moment in order to be the "good girl" the normal heterosexual girl who dates the heartthrobs whereas anti hero is an honest admission of how much she hates her compulsion to be heteronormative and all the other parts of herself that she hates)

Out of the Woods to Snow on the Beach (out of the Woods can be interpreted to be about queer anxiety of not knowing if your girlfriend loves you as much as her boyfriend and then snow on the beach is about the first time you fall in love with a woman and you're both realizing that it's love at the time and how unique and special it feels vs how common it actually is. Also like the glow up of the start of the relationship being anxiety fueled vs it being easy and mutual and you know exactly where the other person is standing).

All You Had to do was Stay to You're On Your Own Kid (I think this is about her transition from needing a prince charming to save her to being alright with not ending up with a man at all and saving herself)

Shake it off to Midnight Rain (this is her mentality during the 1989 era, like shake off the bad feelings don't let it catch up to you and midnight rain is an admission that those feelings never go away and you need to work them out in order to move on in life. Like she's looking back and being like this still affects me, I still feel a certain way about this relationship that I fucked up when I was 19 and that's okay. This is how I process things, making music of feelings I don't need to shake it off. I need to change like midnight through my music).

I Wish You Would to Question...? (This is her taking a look inward at all the things she didn't do in a relationship and seeing how she may have been the problem and why relationships didn't work out. She wrote songs about what she wanted the other person to do without telling them and they took it as her abandoning them. Question is about both Harry and Karlie and how she abandoned them in some way. For Harry, she felt like she was waiting for him to show up without ever telling him and she can see now how he could have perceived that as her not caring enough to show up for HIM. Also, for Karlie, she regrets making them stay in the closet for the sake of her career because she never made her a priority and that cost her the love of her life at the time).

Bad Blood to Vigilante Shit (hello, bad blood is about a surface level betrayal that she was able to forgive and vigilante shit is making fun of the fact that 25 year old had no idea what bad blood would actually look like. The hot cold reaction lol pun not intended to vigilante shit resembles the hatred people have for bad blood for being juvenile and the use of cringey tumblr quotes in vigilante shit is such a self aware poke at the perception of bad blood. Like she is admitting that bad blood aged poorly and being like here's what really matters to me while also admitting that she'll never be perfect and she'll always want justice to be served.)

Wildest Dreams to Bejeweled (WOW. when I wrote this, i blew my own fucking mind. If you've read my bejeweled analysis, you know exactly where I'm going to go with this but wildest dreams is sick taylor wishing to be impactful enough to haunt her ex lover in their dreams forever. Bejeweled is a self aware stab at what that actually looks like in reality. Karlie and Calvin dream about her and the dreams are wild but not in the way she wishes and it's her being so fucking vulnerable with the fact that she regrets how she treated those two people deeply because they were collateral damage in her sick need to be the best at everything. But that bridge in bejeweled is so beautiful because she admits that she is still worthy of love, even in all the fucked up ways she's hurt other people and all the ways she's been hurt by other people, because there will be someone who sees her as moonstone even in her worst light. God I love dress. Anyways. Like wow, bejeweled is so deep and compared with wildest dreams I'm screaming at the depth and the growth).

How You Get the Girl to Labyrinth (this is a second WOW. Taylor is letting us know how Joe got the girl with labyrinth by accepting all of her obsessions and hang ups and anxieties and flaws because he thinks her good outweighs the bad. Like, she values her as a person who is dynamic and flawed and human and also I like the perspective change on how taylor is turning the finger inward, saying things like "im the one who gets hung up on things" instead of "you left me all alone and fucked us up." Like, idk, I like that she is speaking to her partner using I statements to express her anxiety about falling in love with them and not placing blame on her partner.)

This Love to Karma (this one stumped me for a little bit. I think this about the change on perspective of Taylor being like waiting around for love to come to you isn't going to bring about anything good. Like the idea of karma in america is like you get what you put out into the world and that works with love too. Like karma is my boyfriend because she realized that being self destructive caused bad love to find her because she didn't want good love at the time. They'd notice her self destruction and want to help her heal and she wasn't ready to heal at the time she wrote this love? Idk maybe I'm being too stoned and this analysis sucks actually sorry I fucked it up the first time).

I Know Places to Sweet Nothing (the contrast between I know places we can hide to you're in the kitchen humming. Like she doesn't have to beg her partner to hide away with her anymore. She found a person who gets it).

Clean to Mastermind (god, God, this entire analysis has hurt the fuck out of me but this one. Wow, I've touched on the blank space vs mastermind but clean vs mastermind is so. Clean, while it's about the desire to not need the love of someone else and being okay with being on your own, mastermind is about admitting to your partner one of the worst parts of yourself that you're the most ashamed of the desire to need the love of another person in your life. I think mastermind is a quiet fuck you to the culture that makes young women feel shame for wanting to find a relationship and wanting romantic love. It's asking why society and men make women feel crazy and clingy for wanting to be shown affection and love and romance. It's telling your partner that you've been playing the long game this entire time and them responding samsies and there is no judgment there. They felt it too, that momentum pull to each other the first time you meet someone and you see a future with them because the chemistry is that incredible).

#it works too well #1989 is when she was born but midnights is who she is #1989 uses her birth year because its impersonal and closeted and midnights uses a defining aspect of who she is because its honest #midnights #1989 #i dont feel bad about midnights being #the best taylor pop album anymore #taylor swift #personal #gaylor

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

45. Deal prompt

It's cold and that makes me cranky.

Also I miss Kate and Simon.

“I can’t believe you actually want to go swimming. Here.”

What Deena means to say is anywhere because water and actually swimming around in it? Not her thing. But a disparaging comment about the Shadyside Public Pool basically encompasses all of those things, so Deena feels like she’s covered all her bases.

Not that Simon seems to notice or care. He just drops a towel -a bathroom towel, not even a ratty old beach towel like the one Deena had dug out of the hallway linen cabinet- onto a plastic lounge chair and kicks off his shoes. “What? It’s not so bad.”

Deena glances toward the pool, which is full of half a dozen children and one middle-aged woman determinedly swimming laps and maybe it doesn’t look so bad. Now. But. Give it time.

“I mean,” Simon continues, tugging off a shirt that says Ohio is for lovers that was probably Timothy’s, and adding it to the pile on his chair. “Kate works here.”

This, Deena thinks, is probably the only reason the pool looks as passable as it does now. Because with Kate Schmidt in charge, nothing is going to be half-assed. The pool water is clear. The concrete is free of trash and half-chewed gum and god only knows what else. The American Top 40 is playing on a stereo from somewhere by the life guard chair and it might be the nicest place in Shadyside right now.

Still doesn’t mean Deena is getting in the water.

Kate, who has been trying to coax them into agreeing to spend a summer afternoon at the pool to keep her company rather than languishing in Simon’s room talking about how bored they were, is currently talking to someone who looks like he imagines himself to be her boss, when really anyone who knows Kate knows who is actually in charge of this -and any- operation. She’s nodding, wearing an oversized hoodie over her swimsuit -likely because even Deena doesn’t miss the way the guy’s eyes keep drifting downward- and a pair of flipflops and one of those Baywatch whistles around her neck and Deena can’t wait to give her shit about all of it. But she resists the urge for now, since Kate is trying to be all professional, and instead she takes her old beach towel and spreads it across her own chair before taking a seat. The towel is from the trip her parents had taken her and Josh on to Coney Island Park in Cincinnati when she had been eight and Josh seven and their mom was still around and she’s pretty sure it’s been stuffed into the back of the closet ever since then.

Simon pulls a bottle of sunscreen from somewhere and begins slathering it across his arms in a way that makes Deena both love him and want to tease him mercilessly and before she gets the chance, Kate is walking over in their direction, the obnoxious slap of her flipflops announcing her arrival. She looks at Deena, quirking an eyebrow above her sunglasses. “You didn’t bring your suit?”

Deena gestures to herself, offended. “I’m wearing shorts.”

Shorts and a Stryper shirt that had once been her dad’s and sure it’s to cover up the swimsuit she’d reluctantly put on, but she has no intention of letting anyone prove that.

“As lifeguard, I’m obligated to tell you that shorts are not allowed in the pool,” Kate says in a way that manages to be both teasing and completely serious at the same time. “Sorry.”

Deena smirks. “You gonna blow your whistle at me?”

“You wish.” Kate smirks and then her attention is shifting, a smile sliding across her face that Deena most definitely does not like. “Oh, look. Sam is here.”

It’s embarrassing, how Deena’s cheeks immediately get hot. But even more embarrassing is the way her head immediately whips in the direction of the entrance, so fast she’s actually sure she can hear the bones cracking. Kate laughs but Deena ignores her, watching, instead, as Sam Fraser walks in with a bag slung over her shoulder and two other girls from the cheerleading squad beside her.

Simon snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “Exactly. Why do you think Deena’s here?”

“That’s not…” Deena hisses, glaring at her friends and their stupid smirks.

“Then why did you suddenly decide you wanted to go to the pool today after I’ve been asking you all summer?”

Simon looks way too smug for someone who hasn’t rubbed in the sunscreen on his cheeks. Deena rolls her eyes at him and her efforts to sputter out a comeback are immediately foiled by Kate, who waves a hand over her head and calls, “Jennifer! Over here!” in a way that makes Deena want to shove her directly into the pool.

Jennifer, Ashley, and yes, Sam, immediately head for the empty chairs beside the ones Deena and Simon are currently occupying and Deena’s eyes meet Sam’s and immediately set off a flurry of emotions swirling around inside her chest. Being around Sam hasn’t gotten any easier recently but it’s gotten a hell of a lot harder to convince herself that not being around Sam is an option. Because now that she’s spent more than a few summer afternoons sitting in her bedroom listening to music and kissing Sam Fraser, that’s kinda all she ever wants to be doing.

And Deena is pretty sure it shows all over her face every time Sam is within ten feet of her.

The tradeoff is, of course, that Sam is within ten feet of her. And that’s hard to hate.

And yeah, the idea to come to the pool had been Sam’s, forcing Deena to swallow her pride and tell Simon, mostly apropos of nothing, that sure, she’d go with him to see Kate at the stupid pool, or whatever.  

Her friends might see right through her, but the decision is already paying off.

Jennifer and Ashley say hello to Kate and regard Deena and Simon with the polite uncertainty that only teenagers are truly capable of, and with all the reluctance that comes from the forcible combining of two very different types of people that would never happen if not for people like Kate Schmidt. But Sam manages to set her bag into the chair next to Deena’s casually enough, even though it means having to step around Ashley to get there first and Deena bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Hi,” Sam says, and she’s got that shy smile on her face that Deena loves and not just because it comes with the shocking realization that she put it there. It also provides a great view of Sam’s dimple, which Deena is fond of pressing her lips to when they’re alone. Which she very much wishes they were right now.

Deena smiles like she’s just stuck a fork into an electrical outlet and zapped the common sense out of her brain.

“Where’s your suit?” Sam asks, and Deena really thinks she should get credit just for being here, thank you very much. “I thought you were going to swim.”

“I never said that,” Deena says, pleased to be able to use this same logic on Sam that she’d used on Simon when he’d said the same thing after he’d gotten into her car. “I said I was going to go to the pool.” She gestures as if to say ta da, please hold the applause.

Sam does not look impressed. “The whole point of coming to the pool is to go swimming.”

This, Deena figures, they will have to agree to disagree on.

Because the whole point of this outing is most definitely getting to see Sam take off her tank top and stuff it into her bag and holy hell actually maybe this was a bad idea because there’s so much more of Sam to see all of the sudden. They’ve been keeping it mostly PG so far in the privacy of Deena’s bedroom and it seems like every bad thought Deena has ever had is suddenly flying into brain right now and probably outing her in front of the entire Shadyside Public Pool population.

Maybe she will get into the pool after all. Clearly, she needs to cool off.

“So you aren’t swimming,” Sam says and Deena wonders what else has been said around her that she just hasn’t been privy to. Kate is talking to Ashley and Jennifer and swinging her whistle around on her finger while Simon continues applying sunscreen with the studious focus of an overbearing mother and no one seems to have noticed that Deena is a pile of ash in the shape of a girl.

“No, Deena doesn’t swim,” Simon says before Deena can remember how words work. “She just likes to sit there and look pretty,” he teases, nudging her thigh with his bare foot.

Deena reaches over to give him a shove, almost toppling him off his chair, but she doesn’t miss the way Sam blushes and presses her teeth to her bottom lip and okay there are worse things than having Samantha Fraser think that she’s pretty.

Sam arches an eyebrow, looking at Deena for a beat before she says, “I bet I could get Deena in the pool.”

Deena rolls her eyes, but Simon sits up straighter, intrigued. “Oh yeah?”

Sam nods, reaching up to put her hair into a messy knot and Deena finds herself fixated on the movement of her wrists, the deft motions of her fingers. Those are good wrists. Pretty good fingers, too. “Yup.”

“Hmm, no way,” Simon says firmly. “I don’t think you’ve got what it takes.”

“Hello? I’m literally sitting right here,” Deena points out, looking between the two of them.

Predictably, they both ignore her. “Wanna bet?” Sam says and she tilts her head and really Deena feels like she can’t be held responsible for the way her pulses races at that flex of Sam’s neck.

Simon doesn’t even ask for clarification on the perimeters of this particular bet. He just nods, leaning across Deena’s chair and holding out his hand. “Deal.”

Sam leans closer to shake Simon’s hand and Deena looks between the both of them trying to figure out what she missed when she was too busy studying the freckles on Sam’s shoulder. There’s no way she’s going to be able to avoid pressing her lips to that spot the next time they’re in her bedroom. Being with Sam is starting to make her greedy. Selfish.

Sam leans back and when she looks at Deena, Deena just smirks, lifting an eyebrow. “Good luck.”

“Oh, come on,” Sam says with a laugh and when she shakes her head, some twists of hair fall loose from her ponytail. She glances over her shoulder and when she’s satisfied that Ashley and Jennifer are still involved in their conversation with Kate, she leans forward, peering at Deena through her lashes. “You won’t even do it for me?”

And. Well. Something goes all fizzy in her brain when Sam looks at her like that, something that makes her feel all giddy and stupid and like she might do all kinds of things that Deena had been certain she never would. Like stop hiding all those parts of herself, if only around this person. Like make dumb, sickly romantic mix-tapes and doodle messy, crooked hearts on the liner notes.

Like, apparently, get into the Shadyside Public Pool.

There are certainly worse things than having Sam owe her a favor, after all. Her motives are purely selfish.

So Deena stands and reluctantly steps out of her shorts and pulls her shirt over her head, avoiding meeting both Sam and Simon’s gazes as she does so, spending far too much time folding up the clothes and sticking them beneath her towel to protect them from any annoying kids trying to cannonball into the deep end.

But when she chances a look back in Sam’s direction, there’s this look on Sam’s face that immediately ignites a fire low in Deena’s belly and she’s certain that if anyone were to look at them now, every one of their secrets would be on full display and for that moment, the beat of time where everything seems to slow down and her eyes are on Sam’s, she doesn’t even care. All of Shadyside could burn down around her and she wouldn’t care about that either. Because all she does care about is the way Sam is looking at her, lips slightly parted and with dots of color on her cheeks, and Deena gets a glimpse of how she must look to Sam every time they’re alone together, like she can’t believe she’s somehow managed to get lucky enough to be in this moment. She’d just never thought anyone would ever have cause to look at her that way.

And there are definitely worse things than having Sam Fraser think that she’s pretty.

It kinda makes the whole having to get into the pool thing actually worth it.

Even though she has her regrets as she actually gets into the water, because it’s cold, and she doesn’t want to doubt Kate’s prowess as a lifeguard or anything, but she suddenly has her doubts about the whole cleanliness thing but well there’s no turning back now.

And when Deena surfaces, pushing back her wet curls, Sam is giving Simon a smug look and Simon is scowling, though it seems to be mostly for show. Especially when Simon mutters, “I feel like something about what happened counts a cheating.”

But Sam shrugs and Deena glares at the both of them. “Okay. Does this make you happy, weirdos? I got in the pool. Best summer ever.” She rolls her eyes for good measure.

Simon nods solemnly. “A momentous day.”

“Great,” Deena says flatly. She looks at Sam, reaching out a hand. “Can you please help me out now?”

Really, it’s totally Sam’s fault. Because who would ever fall for something like that. So, really, she only has herself to blame for actually getting up and offering her hand to Deena’s and for being completely unprepared and defenseless when Deena yanks her forwarrd and into the pool.

Deena is still laughing when Sam surfaces, spitting out Shadyside Public Pool water -which, you know, Deena does feel a little bad about because she’s not a monster- and looking at Deena with her eyes wide with betrayal. “Deena!”

“What? I thought the point of coming to the pool was to go swimming?”

And, sure, she probably deserves the way that Sam splashes her and now she’s spitting out Shadyside Public Pool water so they’re obviously even. Deena splashes her back and Sam reaches for her wrists, forcing them underwater and protecting herself from further splashing and it suddenly clicks that no one is going to be able to see what they’re doing underwater, not unless they’re really paying attention. And it must occur to Sam, too, because she lets go of Deena’s wrists and takes her hands instead, letting their fingers twine together.

Deena brushes her finger across the inside of Sam’s wrist, earning a soft smile in response, and her world becomes just this girl in front of her and maybe the pool isn’t so terrible after all because it lets her do this, to hold Sam as close as she can and still have it feel like a secret.

And then Simon jumps in behind Sam, spraying the both of them with water and Deena rolls her eyes, making a face. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m out.”

Sam laughs, and she hooks her fingers around Deena’s for one final moment before letting Deena pull away and hoist herself out of the pool. Simon surfaces, grinning, and Deena kicks water at him. “You’re the worst. You know that right?”

“Am I?” Simon responds, like he knows something she doesn’t, and Deena splashes more water in his direction for good measure.

Deena walks back to her chair, leaving Sam and Simon to hash out the details of Sam winning their ridiculous deal, and she grabs her towel, wrapping it around her shoulders and stretching out across the sun-warmed plastic. And sure, maybe Kate was right about hanging out at the pool being better than laying around on Simon’s floor and bemoaning life in Shadyside, but it’s not like Deena is going to tell her that.

#sameena #one word prompts #here's me wishing it was summer again #sam/deena #sam fraser #deena johnson #I totally have a whole timeline building in my head for the start of their relationship now #summer 1993 because I said so #okay I love them sorry about always being in my feels

[burnt-scone]

Let me explain my gender: I'm ftm, but also nonbinary. The good ol' He/They

I'm a man, but not completely man, but I don't connect with womanhood. The struggles and such yeah ofc. I live them. I was still born with a body meant for a woman, but my soul isn't a woman's. It's an almost man.

Not in a incomplete way.

I feel like I understand my gender, the way I represent myself clothing wise is like someones grandfather who was maybe a clown. I feel comfortable that way. And y'know, I feel okay in fem clothing, but in a costume sorta way.

Like I'm going to a wedding and it's with family I'm, atleast, not out to yet. I'm wearing a dress, and I'm going for an old school Hollywood glamor look. I see it as fun dress up opportunity. But like if I was forced to wear a different dress then I've chosen I'd feel gross. Like my grandmother had shown me ideas that would make me reject myself, fake padding and stuff and it's a no. I don't want to look like a woman, I want to look like I'm dressed up. When I showed my aunt just the dress and some Jewelry ideas she said what I thought "Old Hollywood Glamor" and yes, that's what I want. If I have to wear a dress and put on a show, it's gonna me like dressing up as a kid.

I've always liked costumes. I would dress up as cowboys, faeries, princes, princesses, my different grandparents, etc... I like costumes. I've never connected gender with them in my head. I've only come out, family wise, to siblings, my mother, and three cousins, only one being on my dad's side. My cousins were like "yeah, I kinda gotta vibe but wondered if you would tell me", which translates to, "No shit, but I don't want you to think the closet is glass."

And why I think about costumes now and representing myself is because when I told my mom she was like "but you loved princess costumes" but that's only one type of costume I liked, that's not a argument.

Sometimes I wonder if I just feel masculine and I'm just nonbinary but like in the no gender way. Like the idea of what's considered masculine is what I connect with, not being a man. But I feel like a man, but again, not completely, but not in a broken or incomplete way. Like I'm 75% man and 25% personified being (of idfk) written by Neil Gaiman. I literally don't know but like I'm okay with it?

I want to dress like either a librarian in what my sibling told me is a 80-90s dark academia setting or like it's the 1500-1700s, but in a gothic clowny way. But that's expensive so I dress either like a waiter, a dad, a 13 year old boy in 2003, that could also be described as Adam Sandler, Junie B Jones, someone's grandfather, in a "liberal arts professor" ( as my mom and sibling say and my liberal arts major friend confirmed) way, my nerdself of 2014, and in a very clowny way. Sometimes all at once, and I call it "brain happy" clothing, my sibling calls it "a hot mess."

This is becoming a weirdly long post.

Basically: I'm not a woman, if you see me dressed in any way in my head it's all a costume, I don't see my body as any gender really. I know what my ♀️sex♂️ is, but to me it's just apart of things I need to only care about health wise. I think it'd be more convenient if I had XY stuffs instead, but like my body shape and face shape stays, I'm used to it y'know, and I wouldn't get painful ovarian cysts all the time. I wish I could still dress up as a cowboy, and a faery. My wings broke tho but I still have my old cowboy vest, it's so tiny to me now, at one point it was too big, I don't really get how. Like y'know, I know how realistically but my brain refuses to believe it. There was something else I described that way. Something you know the facts of, you've seen how it works, but your brains like, okay but no.

Anyway yeah basically my gender is Yes but No. Kinda clowny but not a clown I'm just queer and Autistic.

#gender for me #I type how i talk and its probably annoying af #im going to bed #gender #trans masc #life is a costume

[apparitionsxanonymous]

Regret [Part One]

Apparition Anonymous is a collection of fictional stories told from the POV of the Grim Reaper as they guide newly departed souls to the Afterlife. Enjoy, and thank you for reading.

“But I didn’t finish everything I wanted to.”

I nodded, taking a sip of tea. I chose tea this time since this new soul was extremely frazzled. She had already finished her drink, and when I offered her a new cup, she began crying.

“I was going to try cross-stitching. I bought all the material for it. It’s in my closet. And what about my crochet projects? I was in the middle of making something for my niece and nephew. I wanted to try candle making, too… that seemed like fun.”

I brought the teacup to my lips but didn’t drink. Instead, I cast a quick glance at the clock holding us in this room. It was still green. I suppressed a groan, placing my teacup back down on the table.

“Am I able to do any of that stuff here?” she asked, looking at me with desperation in her eyes.

“We have everything you need here,” I replied.

She leaned back in her chair, a smile forming across her lips with relief.

“I should emphasize that we have everything you need here, not want.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Once you cross over into the Spirit World, there isn’t much you need from the Living World unless it's your loved ones. If you really do have unfinished businesses, then it’ll be here, or there will be a way for you to complete that business if you wish,” I explained.

She blinked at me, and I wasn’t quite sure if what I said had sunk in. But she leaned over the table, her curious gaze burning into me.

“My business being my crochet projects?”

I sighed. “Most likely not.”

She frowned.

“But if it’s something that will help you rest peacefully, then it’ll be here.”

The spirit pressed her lips together, staring at the black ground. She was thinking, and I was preparing myself for the worst. Was she going to attempt to bargain with me to get back to the Living World? Or was she trying to think of other crafting projects she could do in the Spirit World?

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she would soon lose her senses. Over time, her soul would become so transparent that her sense of touch would diminish. Souls were able to touch, taste, and smell when needed. Otherwise, those senses were numb.

It was why I offered a warm beverage to new souls during these sessions. Warm beverages were a universal comfort for everyone. Not to mention, new souls have their body temperatures dropping rapidly. So, having coffee, tea, or hot chocolate was a win-win all around. The souls didn’t understand the meaning behind it, though.

“If I really need to finish my crochet project, though, and I’m able to do it here,” she continued, “how am I supposed to get it to my niece and nephew?”

I shook my head. “You don’t, really. The only thing you can do to interact with the Living World is to give subtle hints and notes.”

“Like a crochet doll?”

“No, you can’t make things like that appear.”

She huffed.

“But you can whisper in their ear. You can move small objects slightly or put them in a different spot. You can create scents that’ll make them think of you. Anything that’s subtle enough to let them know you’re still there, you can do.”

She nodded, but the narrowed eyes told me she still wasn’t satisfied with the answer. “But what if I do something like that, and they don’t listen?”

“Sometimes they won’t,” I stated. “It may take some time, or they may never notice. Or maybe they’ll be looking; you won’t know unless you try.

“But not everyone will see or understand every sign, and that’s okay. Being in the Living World is a huge responsibility and can be stressful. Most living beings don’t begin to look for a sign until they’re in desperate need of comfort.”

The woman chuckled. “I only prayed when I needed something.”

I nodded. That was all too common. However, depending on what they believed in, they went to some sort of religious gathering once a week. That was their fill, and they didn’t think they needed to pray any more than that until they needed a favor from their God.

“God only answered sometimes, though,” she said.

I shook my head. “The God you believe in doesn’t exist. This is it.”

“Then how…?”

“Rumors.”

She frowned, her posture crumbling in her chair. “But sometimes my prayers really did get answered.”

“Those were responses from your passed loved ones. You only assumed it was from a God,” I answered. No one ever gave the departed souls enough credit for anything.

She gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. “You mean… my mother…?”

“Most likely,” I replied. Though, I really didn’t know. I had no idea which souls were related to this lady. If she wanted to believe her mother was around here somewhere, and she probably was, then she’d have to go and find her mother on her own after the session.

I looked at the clock again, and it was still green. How much more time did this woman need?

“You know why I’m so concerned about all my unfinished projects?” she asked softly.

Oh, I get it now. Her craft projects were part of her denial.

“I never finished anything I started. Once I got too far into a project, job, or relationship, I had to shut it down right away,” she explained. “Now I’m here and I’ve never been married, never got the chance to make my own family. My sisters and brother got married and had children, though I never saw them. I think I was afraid or embarrassed. I was always the single aunt who tagged along at holiday gatherings because she had no family. My parents died a long time ago, and my siblings moved far away when they met their partners. So, I was left alone."

© Rachel Poli, All Rights Reserved

Thanks for reading. Apparitions Anonymous is updated every Monday and Friday. If you enjoy my work and would like to stay updated with my writing journey, please consider visiting my Ko-fi page.

#creative writing #paranormal fiction #short story #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[ghostgardn]

His Tutor

synopsis: Reader is Graham Lansing's AP Psychology tutor, when she meets him at his house he cracks a deal.

a/n: FINALLY WROTE SMTHN. This has taken me like a MONTH to finish, so Prom Pact fandom pls rise from the dead n appreciate istg 😤

You knock on a thick white door, the address matching Graham's text. A beautiful redheaded woman opens the door with a distracted look, when she finally focuses on you a bright smile spreads on her face.

"You must be Y/N, it's so great to finally meet you." She firmly shakes your hand and calls for Graham. You glance around the foyet before hearing thudding footsteps from the staircase.

Graham, shirtless, presses his stomach to the railing as he looks at you two. His mother quickly scolds him for his appearance and urges him to put a shirt on.

"One thing I've learned about being in a house full of boys is they think this is a glorified locker room." She gestured around herself before her head turned towards a double swinging door, where a phone rang loudly. "Make yourself at home." She said before excusing herself to answer it.

You slowly made your way around the clean white room, eyes sweeping over the many picture frames. Again there was some thudding on the staircase so you turned around to face the noise.

"Hey. Ready to get studying?" You asked, tilting your head slightly. A big smile grew on Graham's face.

"Yeah, follow me." He said, waiting for you to meet him at the staircase. You trailed up the steps behind him and turned the corner twice before making it to his room. Toeing your shoes off, you slipped comfortably onto his desk chair. Meanwhile he dropped into his beanbag chair, grabbing a basketball and throwing it up.

"Okay, today is Piaget's Theory. How much of that do you remember from last week?" You asked, looking over your notes and then meeting his eyes.

"The theory is that children's intelligence undergoes changes while they grow, right?" You smiled and nodded before flipping the page.

"Yes! There are how many stages?" You asked throwing him a paper to crush and throw in his trash can.

"Four." He stated, throwing the paper away. You tossed him another. "Sensorimotor, pre operational, concrete operational, formal operational." And he tossed another.

"Yep! Sensorimotor is-"

"Ages 0-2 and is how kids experience the world. Through sensory experiences and motor actions." He interrupted. Tossing another piece of paper into his trashcan with a large dopey smile. You nodded and started again.

"Pre Operational is..." You prompted, eyes glued to your notebook.

"I have an idea." Graham said, noticing your lack of attention on him.

"Hmm?" You asked, half listening.

"If I get this entire theory right, I get to kiss you." He suggested, eyes tracing your face.

"Yeah sure." You said, eyes still glued to the page. Not hearing what he said.

"So that's a deal?" He asked, eyebrows shot up.

"Mmhmm." You agreed, muttering his name while you wrote something down.

"Okay! Pre operational starts at two, they can play pretend, talk about past memories, and can speak about people not in the room with them.” He says, watching you check a box and look back up at him. He throws a mini basketball into a small hoop attached to his closet door.

“The concrete operational stage begins at seven. Kids can solve problems better, because they can consider multiple options and endings. They can read maps, perform math better, and understand two different glasses can hold the same amount of water even if they look different.” You nodded and checked another box, looking back up to see the sun beaming on his face. He shook his long hair out of his face like he was a puppy, pulling the desk chair closer to his bed.

“The formal operational stage is the fourth and final stage.” Graham focuses an eyelash resting on your cheek, he leans forward and gently lifts it off and holds it in front of you. “Make a wish.” He whispers, hot (vaguely minty) breath fanned over your face. You quickly blew the eyelash off his thumb.

“It starts at age eleven, they can think of hypotheticals, abstract thoughts, and can use reasoning skills to solve a problem. Done.” He finished, still close enough that you wouldn’t have to reach far to get to him. You checked the final box, and when you looked back up he was even closer.

“That means I get to kiss you, y’know.” Graham muttered quietly, eyes grazing over your face.

“What?” You asked breathlessly. His large hands raised to meet your waist.

“We made a deal. If I got the whole theory right, I could kiss you.” He said, pulling you closer.

“I- uh. I guess I don’t remember that.” You replied. Your knees touching his, wheels squeaking against the hardwood floor. The chair half raised from a soft rug underneath her.

“Well can I kiss you anyway?” Graham asked, puppy dog eyes engaged, and a sweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, that’d be alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please kiss me.” You responded, soon feeling his hand glide up from your waist and settle on your cheek. Your breath mixes with his as you lean close. His nose nudges yours.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” You nod briefly, he leans into you and places his lips on yours. The kiss is gentle and sweet, his lips are soft and he tastes of mint. He pulls back with a smile.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Graham whispers, forehead resting against yours. You smile at him, eyes boring into his.

"Me too." You responded lips grazing his in another kiss. Love overflowing in your heart.

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